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renhaswritersblock · 2 years ago

Note

hello!! could you do w, i, and o for abner on the nsfw alphabet? i am so desperate for content abt him lmao 😭😭 thank u for still writing him

Abner Krill (Polka-dot-man) - NSFW Request (I, O, W)

Me: Oh boy, Abner! I’ve always been wanting to write something about this colorful dancing king queen since I watched TSS. This is going to be fun!

[Two/half months later.]

Me: *Staring intently at a bulletin board covered in pictures and notes with red string connecting to them, not knowing what time or day it is.*

Life [Walks in.]: Hey, uhh– friendly reminder that you still have that Government paper due tomorrow.

Me: MUTHERFU–

[Weeks later.]

Me [On the floor, defeated by the heavy mass of writer's block, reaching towards laptop to press enter.]: Finished– *Get’s crushed by an anvil of more writing tasks.*

—

A/N: I had made a Venn Diagram of Abs, Bob, and Lonny to differ the boys since they all fall under the meow meow category. So, thank you for the wait.

Ima say this takes place after the TSS movie – don’t care if he died, as James A. Janisse would maybe say, “No body, no count.” (Same with Flag. *kicks book of Necromancy For Dummies under bed*)

Warning: Usual NSFW stuff, nothing too extreme. Made some parts long (cause I do what I want). Some head cannons that totally didn’t come up to me randomly while I was halfway through finishing. No proofreading, I go down in style. Is there anything smutty in the first half? No, not really. Did I get carried away again and build a oneshot sort of story? Perhaps. Will I ever make a long smutty moment in any of the alphabet requests? Idk. Hotel? Trivago.

Leans toward female reader pov, but mostly towards gender neutral.

Anyhoo, happy readings!

===

I: Intimacy (*looks over at the letter C* Perhaps, I misjudged you.)

Abner lacks physical and emotional intimacy – and you can’t really blame him for it. Being locked up in Belle Reve and made fun of by the other inmates for so long – and to top it all off, his condition and past – he doesn’t have good social skills nor the confidence to approach someone for friendly/flirtatious banter. Even when he and his Task Force X friends go out to celebrate their new freedom at a local club, he still remains reserved and hidden. So he thought.

Throughout the night, Abner watched everyone have fun while sitting in a booth next to a large – totally not a man-eating shark – distinguish gentleman with a mustache, staring intently at a fish tank behind them. Cleo was out dancing wildly on the dance floor with a group of people, Harley sat across the room drinking with three intimidating women, and both Flag and Dubois went somewhere private to chat and drink alone. He consistently looks around the large room, scanning the neon interior and dancing occupant exotically swaying side to side, sipping his drink until his eyes land on a certain someone sitting by the bar. You.

You idly sat on one of the empty stools, swirling your drink in apathy and wearing the most eccentric, colorful outfit that made you stick out of the crowd. Abner nearly choked, spitting his drink through his nose, and erupted into a coughing fit. He didn’t notice Cleo returning to the booth, rushing to sit beside him, gently hitting his back. You were alone – in fact – you looked like you were waiting for someone, glancing at your surroundings and at your phone every minute.

Supposedly, your date should’ve been here an hour ago. They texted you the address to this place to meet you at a time that was way past your curfew. Without a second thought, you agreed. You spend your whole evening prepping yourself to look nice. The only attire suitable for your first night out was the one that made it look like a clown puked on you. Looking around once more, you scan the room in hopes of seeing your date, not spotting Abner a few feet away staring gawkily at you, swiftly ducking his head to avoid glances.

Abner could feel his face burn red hot, he couldn’t hear Cleo’s muffled words over the sound of his heart pounding in his ear. He finally drew his attention towards Cleo when he heard her say, your glowing. Instantly, he slaps his face out of instinct to check if his glowing rash started popping up – knowing already he expelled the dots before they left. This is a first… Cleo gaped as his face began to flare up into dim hues of blue and red to green and yellow. His eyes move back to you, staring at your phone with a bleak expression.

Honestly, you weren’t surprised when the screen showed they left you on read. You figured they would bail at the last minute, wasting half of your night to embarrass yourself. Thoughts began running through your head as you felt your chest grow heavy. I think that’s enough for one night. Holding back your tears, you took a shot of your drink and tapped the glass on the counter, going to spin your chair towards the exit when a tall man wearing what seems to be also a colorful button-up blouse blocks your way, startling you. Abner stood stiff as a board, nervously smiling at you. There was a moment of silence between you two. You watched as he glanced over and back at you, sending you mixed signals. Curious at what he was looking at, you turned and spotted two girls looking directly at you, one waving shyly, the other giving a thumbs up, and a– Wait is that a shark in disguise and a rat also waving at us?

You snap your attention back to the man in front of you, hearing him clear his throat out of discomfort before introducing himself as Abner, reaching his hand out towards you. To your dismay, you mindlessly took his hand, shaking it while telling him your name. Abner’s heart flutters at the sight of you smiling softly at him. You catch a glimpse of his cheeks glowing strangely, thinking it could be the lighting in the room. He takes a seat next to you, mumbling if he can buy you a drink, his smile widening when you accept the offer.

Shortly after your second drink, you hit it off pretty quickly, talking about certain things the two of you like, such as movies, and him introducing you to the group – keeping a very close eye on Nana– Bob doesn’t do anything to you.

Soon you two were on the dance floor, swaying and bobbing your heads to the music, and before you knew it, you were face-to-face. Abner remembered sharing a long gaze with you, feeling as if time suddenly froze. He felt his cheeks boil achingly, noticing your expression contort into a bewildered look. Random patches of colorful glowing dots appeared and disappeared on his face. His eyes seemed to change color, following the primitive colors.

Although you admired the way he looked, Abner on the other hand took it as a sign of being repulsed, causing something to trigger in his mind. But before he could let the imagery into his head, he hears you call out his name, slowly approaching him. You ask if you could hold his hand, reaching out for it when he accepts. You both stood in the middle for a while, only listening to the music playing on the speakers. Once he felt himself subside, he pulls towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist. You did the same, putting your arms around his neck, whispering reassuring words. He burrows his face into your shoulder, embracing the unknown feeling in his chest as his face emits a dim glow once again.

O: Oral

*Abner: Clitoris?! Labia Majora?! Damn girl, how many pussies you got?!*

Abs is ok with giving oral to his partner. He’s a lil’ confuse at first, but he got spirit. He isn’t on the top 3, but somewhere around maybe 4-5. Krill prefers to use his hands to stimulate you than his mouth – since he can be flamboyant. It’s also a way for him to be slightly dominant and in control, edging you as soon as you near climaxing.

When receiving oral from you, he melts into a whimpering puddle – he’s squirmish and restless at times, but only because you keep teasing his tip and shaft for revenge. To him, the sensation never gets old.

W: Wild Card (*cracks knuckles*)

*inhales*

Liiiiisten.

There’s a hc I have for this guy, but I prefer not to say what it is since it’s quite…vulgar. That and it also goes with a letter that rhymes with see. So here’s two headcannons that are pretty tame. Also, I hc Abner to be a vers.

Anyways.

Whenever Abner is having sexual intercourse with his partner, showing his emotions can be rather complex than his platonic relationship with you. Thus when he’s trying to gaze into your eyes, all you receive is a wide-eyed stare as he thrusts into you. Another aspect of his is uncontrollable giggling. At any moment, when you're riding him, something in his head switches and causes him to be a laughing mess. You remembered briefly stopping to ask him why he keeps laughing every single time you ask that question his response is the same, it feels good.

===

A/N: Hope ya'll enjoyed reading, and thank you for liking/reblogging. I find it hard to express my emotions sometimes and overthink it. When I see that I'm getting positive remarks on a couple of stuff I wrote, I acknowledge and appreciate the kindness, but never respond to it. So again, thank you so much for the support. Next one's gonna be a Johnson request, and then whatevers on the to-do list.

#david dastmalchian #abner krill x reader #abner krill smut #polka dot man x reader #polka dot man

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vinny-sea · 9 days ago

Text

Friend of mine in a rp server gave me a few for a short fic. Dream x Killer x Cross.

I plan on posting it in ao3

But I thought I’d put it here too.

Dream’s soul was pounding in his rib-cage, oh, he had fucked up, stars below—sometimes he wondered if the multiverse just wanted him dead. It sure seemed like it, as he could never catch a break, could he-?

No. He couldn’t say that. He didn’t deserve a break. He didn’t deserve shit. No wonder he was in this situation—hiding behind a tree, in a half destroyed version of horror-tale—trapped with barely enough energy to be alive, not to say two of his brothers of Nightmare’s soldiers were there with him—no wonder he was suffering, this was his punishment. He was no more of a guardian than he was a failure. A failure the multiverse was trying to make repent, was trying to make atone for such shortcomings.

Not that it mattered right now.

No.

Right now what mattered was getting the hell out of this universe before he got caught. As much as he viewed himself as an unfit guardian, he still had a job to do, and he couldn’t exactly spread positivity while dead.

So he collected his wits. As far as he could tell, Cross was on the other side of the forest. That soldier's emotions were always strong—damaged with guilt, but strengthened with his own determination. Dream had to admit that man was powerful—hell, he was proud of him for holding himself up against all odds, even if Dream was one of those said odds. He just wished he could convince Cross to go to therapy or something of such. (He didn’t care what side he was on, Dream didn;t exactly believe in sides—they were just ways fate used to divide everyone—but he did care enough to want them to all be okay.) Cross wasn’t too close. That was good. Hopefully it stayed that way. He could keep a tab on his emotions to make sure he never ran into him—but he wasn’t sure he had enough energy to do so, and locate Killer at the same time.

Killer was…troublesome. Since his soul was damaged, stage two or three, his emotions were harder to detect—flickering in and out so rapidly and randomly that Dream would have better luck trying to teach a duck to juggle knives than he would be to figure out where Killer was.

Swoosh

Speaking of knives, one just flew by him.

Oh fucking damnit—

Dream blinked, tensing up, as he turned, to find the knife logged into a tree, but not Killer—?

Oh.

He had teleported behind him, hadn’t he-?

…

Today was not Dream’s day.

Not in the slightest.

He could feel a flicker of amusement, not enough positivity to power him, but enough to confirm his thoughts. Slowly he turned, face to face with none other than Killer—who was texting something on his phone—Dream blinked, confused for a second before there was a bright flash—

Oh.

Right, phones did that when someone took a picture. Dream really needed to take a class on technology. If he got out of this situation, he’d ask Swap where he could get a phone. They seemed like they were very useful items.

Killer chucked, smiling uncannily at him.

”Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to run, Sunshine-?” He spoke, his words reminiscent of cat purring. The way he spoke never failed to catch him off guard—so soft, you wouldn’t be able to know this man had thousands of blood on his hands.

Dream did take a step back, but he shook his head. “Would I even be able to run-?” He countered, already knowing the answer before he heard a strong “No.” from behind him.

A sword was put to his neck, from behind.

It seemed Cross had joined the party.

Dream’s exhaustion must’ve been evident as he leaned his head back to look at Cross, since the soldier just stared at him—seemingly dazed.

Did he really look that bad today-?

Geez, talk about embarrassment.

He stared silently into Cross’s darker eyes, his eye lights flickering all over Dream’s face. Again, did Dream look wrong-? This wasn’t the first time he had caught Cross staring at him—no he had seen it so many times on the battlefield that he wasn’t even disturbed by it anymore, but it was the first time he had done such, so closely to him.

Dream squinted, and decided to read his emotions, finding a high amount of conflict in him, pity here and there—unsureness, and something warmer, admiration, possibly-?

It seemed Cross wasn’t too happy about the idea of capturing Dream, though Dream knew while his resolve wouldn’t break—maybe he could bend it-? He’d like to do one more good deed before he had to face the music. Cross was more likely to allow it than Killer. Though to be fair, Killer was so unpredictable, he truly had no idea what his reaction to his request would be.

Letting out an internal sigh, Dream made himself smile, as he would, had he been out with his friends. His aura was quite weak, but he let it filter into the air. Cross almost instantly started to relax, and he could feel Killer's amusement spike. Almost like a heart monitor in a human hospital…

“I understand that you have a job, and I will not ask you to go against…your employer—however, I will ask if I may just finish the task I came here to complete before you take me as a prisoner-?” He asked, holding his basket of food and other non-perishable-goods up for them to view. Cross blinked a few times. Looking as confused as his aura felt. He didn’t exactly understand what Dream was asking, did he-? Dream wondered what reply he would get from the loyal soldier—but surprisingly enough Killer was the one who spoke up first.

“You..wanted to leave food out for one of Horror’s universes—..?” He mumbled, his voice softer than usual, less arrogant or artificial, staring at Dream as if he had requested to binge a show with them or something else that would make no utter sense. What else would Dream be doing in Horrortale, building a snowman-?

He nodded. “Yes. That is why I have a basket of food“ He replied. Killer’s eyes flickered between the basket, and Dream, and then Cross who he was sure was sharing the same bewildered expression on his face. Why they were confused escaped Dream, but hey, that was something he could think about later.

Killer chucked once more, shrugging. “Eh, what the fuck Dreamboat—might as well.” He said, as he grinned, grabbing Dreams’s hands. Cross removed the knife from his throat, but kept it pointed at him as they walked towards the entrance of Horrortale. Dream assumed both were a bit happy about this action, since Horror was one of their comrades. It was a nice thing to know, that their team loved each of their companions—or at the minimum cared enough to allow such choices from outsiders.

Cross stayed silent for most of the walk, only to speak up when he noted Dream’s limp. “..Are you..alright-? He asked slowly, tilting his skull to analyze his walk. That was not something Dream had been expecting to hear, honestly, he hadn’t even noticed he was limping until Cross had pointed it out.

Dream just shrugged in response. “Yes-? I guess it had blended in with the other injuries.” He commented casually, stumbling as both of the skeletons froze. Killer seemed confused. Cross seemed concerned.

Huh.

Injuries were normal for Dream, and for the rest of the Stars. They didn’t exactly have time to heal with all of their responsibilities—so Dream had learned to just ignore the pain. Was that not what the Bad Sanses did as well-?

“What ‘other injuries’ are you talking about Dreamy-? You seem..fine-“ Killer asked, turning around and giving him a once over. Dream reacted with another shrug. It probably wouldn’t be smart to tell the enemy about his current weak spots—but it wasn’t like he’d be able to escape anyway. He could be a bit more of a conversationalist, couldn’t he-?

“I mean, I was stabbed a minor amount of times this morning, and I also walked into a bear trap—that’s why my legs aren’t properly steady—and I believe I may have cracked a couple of ribs last week—but that's really it for all the major inconveniences.” He explained, as he tried to remember where he was hurt, and how he had become injured.

Luckily for him, he was pretty stable compared to last month, though he was quite tired—not being able to sleep due to his job within the dream world—people were in need within their dreams more and more, so it had been a good while since he had last slept. It was probably a good thing that he was immortal to a degree—he wouldn’t be able to get anything done otherwise.

Cross and Killer shared a look. The kind that left Dream feeling embarrassed for some reason. He wasn’t exactly sure why he suddenly felt so…seen—but he decided to ignore it. Cross looked back at him, and spoke up, seemingly choosing his words with slow care—as if Dream was a child.

“…So—you refer to injuries as inconveniences—“ He started

”And you’re just walking around after being stabbed a ‘minor amount of times’ from this morning. It—it’s barely noon—how many times is a minor amount-?” Killer added, looking and sounding extremely perplexed. It seemed he and Cross were sharing their brain cells. Good for them.

Dream wished he could share that cell as well, though he’d probably end up in a different kind of cell regardless—he was simply too drained to constantly read their emotions. Seriously, why were they suddenly so curious about something so uninspiringly conventional-?

“I mean, I suppose everyone has differentiating opinions on the minor amount of stab wounds you can take, but I’d say anything under 20 for the same area. If it’s different areas of the body then it’s hard to tell.” He tried to explain, looking at his own feet, trying to catch the limp Cross had pointed out, as he had started to walk again—only to feel strong hands yank him up. Said hands supported his body, and held him against their chest—leaving him looking up at Cross, and holding the basket of food wordlessly.

Killer paused, and just smiled. It was more a teasing grin—one Dream had used to share with his brother Nightmare before d o n t f u c k i n g t h i n k a b o u t i t things had gone sourly. Cross glared at the other in reply, so Killer resorted to smiling at Dream, wolfishly.

“You’re not walking.” Cross muttered, annoyance evident in his tone. Which was true, as Dream was not currently walking, but instead the other two were—with Cross carrying him.

“My, my Dreamboat—look at you, being held like a little prince. Do you enjoy being a little prince-?” The way those words tumbled out of his mouth made Dream halt his thought process. Was there a certain way he wanted him to reply-? If so, Dream did not know what it was meant to be. So he instead replied with. “I’m not a prince.” As he was not one.

He was a guardian.

There was an obvious difference between a monarch and a martyr.

Killer’s smile grew. Cross’s breath came out in a huff. “Well you could be my prince, or maybe Criss-Cross over here wants to take that honor instead-?” He purred.

Cross just started walking faster, and then were quickly at the entrance to the town of Horrortale. No more words were exchanged, as they set Dream down to quickly put the basket where the residents would easily find it.

Killer walked over to Cross, swinging his knife around. “You know Crossy, you’d make a wonderful knight in shining armor—I mean look at you, all dolled up and ready to serve your leader—and since Dreamy over there doesn’t want to be a prince—maybe you could be my knight in shining armor.” He teased.

Cross went silent again. Killer did not stay silent, and went on and on. While it was funny, it was also an opportunity—one Dream seized quickly. He silently summoned a portal and ran through—unnoticed. All that was left was Cross, Killer, a basket of food—and and air of awareness that would be around during their next battle..

#dream sans #killer sans #cross sans #dream sans x killer sans #dream sans x cross sans #killer sans x cross sans #killer x dream x cross #fanfic #poly #flirting

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satashiiwrites · 1 year ago

Note

For the WIP game Cop! Reyes Firefighter! Scott or Royalty/Fantasy AU? Thank you.

Ah yes. The Undercover Cop/Firefighter document is a very rough outline of a plot whose whole point is to get to a certain scene. Notice I haven’t gotten even a title yet? I swore to myself I would not write this fic until I got some of the other, further along, fics finished.

Anyways, for your amusement, the outline (which is as much as I ever outline). I also haven’t done any title card for it or mood board yet.

Title: Untitled

Fandom: Mass Effect Andromeda AU

Pairing: MReyder.

Reyes is in deep cover—like it’s very much unknown that he’s law enforcement. He and Scott meet when Scott (firefighter!Scott👩🏻‍🚒) and his house get called to an emergency at a hotel that *ahem* charges by the hour. Reyes is there waiting to meet his handler (keema) so he’s dressed casually in a hoodie with a leather jacket over it, just reclining against the headboard as Scott slams through the door—because this place of course doesn’t have functional alarms/they randomly go off anyway so Reyes’ has been ignoring them.

It’s love at first sight for both of them. Reyes hangs around as Scott and his team clear the hotel and maybe hits on him as they’re cleaning up. Scott blushes and maybe snarks back a bit quickly but Reyes is smitten. Reyes has to melt away into the night before he gets anyone else’s attention but he makes note of Scott’s house number.

Scott goes home and stares at the number. It takes him another two days to finally text Reyes.

Reyes replies immediately and Scott is caught—hook line and sinker.

They don’t meet up immediately. They banter back and forth over the course of several weeks, learning things about each other. Family. Preferences on media consumption. Food choices. Humor.

Scott sends the first thirst trap—a selfie taken post workout with his pants just above where you’d see if the carpet match the drapes and bunched up to show off his legs, V line prominent with briefs just peaking out, shirt off, headphones in and baseball cap on backwards. He asks Reyes about his preferred workout.

Reyes is at work when he receives the picture and almost swallows his tongue. He takes a quick duck into the bathroom to shoot his own thirst trap, making sure Scott can see his hands are cupping himself and telling Scott, “what you do to me”.

Things escalate. They’re texting often and sending each other short videos—some more innocent than others. Scott’s friends/coworkers are very curious who he’s seeing when he hasn’t actually seen Reyes in person since the glimpse he got of him at the diner. Reyes is closing in on the evidence he needs to shut down the Outcasts but Sloane has smelled a leak and things are getting dangerous. Texting with Scott has become his stress relief—the little bit of himself that is actually normal and not fake.

Because he only tells Scott things that are true. It’s also becoming harder and harder to avoid Scott’s questions about his job since Scott is very open about the rescues he gets called to and what it’s like being a firefighter.

Reyes can’t wait for this case to be over. To return to normal life. He wants to tell Scott everything but he can’t. He tells Scott he’s working all the time and it’s true because things are escalating. Sloane is cleaning house—the slightest suspicion and you’re dead and if they find your body it’s obvious that you were tortured first. She’s getting frustrated and has let Kaetus off his leash which is making Reyes nervous.

Scott is beginning to get frustrated about why they can’t meet. When Reyes tells him to give him two weeks he asks why he should. Reyes honestly tells him that he has a work thing that is almost done. After it he should have more time.

He asks for Scott to wait but understands if he wont.

Scott takes an hour to reply. I’ll wait for you.

Reyes is questioned for hours by the DA and his statement is taken, Keema and Alec are in the room the entire time. A warrant is issued for Sloane’s arrest but they need to grab her when she’s unsuspecting. Plan is made for a raid tonight at Sloane’s club—appropriately called Outcast Headquarters because she’s classy like that.

The club is busy. Reyes is keeping an eye on the door and he has a mini panic attack when Scott and Gil walk in. Gil wanted to try this club, to “slum it” as he called it and pressed Scott into accompanying him as he’s much better in a fight than Gil. Scott came because he couldn’t get out of it and his heart seizes in his chest when he sees Reyes across the room sitting in the corner by the bar with his back to the wall.

Scott makes a beeline for Reyes and makes it to him just in time for Reyes to pull him close and whisper in his ear “play along” before Sloane Kelly swoops down to interrogate Reyes.

“Reyes—who’s your friend?” She asks, her perfectly manicured nails digging into his arm.

Reyes plays coy, hitching Scott closer and purposefully letting her see his hand sliding down to cup Scott’s ass and squeeze enough to make Scott yelp just a bit. This has the effect of letting him transfer Scott to be on his far side from Sloane and put himself between them and push her back just a bit. They trade snarky barbs and eventually she’s amused enough that her curiosity has waned and then there’s something that needs her attention on the other side of the club.

Scott tries to ask wtf but Reyes pushes his finger against his mouth and hisses, “not here” and pulls him towards the bar storage room

As soon as they are alone in the storage room, Reyes double checks to make sure they’re alone, pulling out his gun and checking it before reholstering it. Scott is staring at him wide eyed. “Who are you?”

Checking the door again, Reyes inclines his head towards the back and Scott lets himself be led deeper into the storage area. “I’m a cop—Organized Crime Unit. You need to leave Scott.”

Scott goggles at him. Reyes works with his Dad? Scott knows how scary Sloane Kelly is—his dad has been practically tearing his hair out over the string of unsolved homicides. Scott’s seen the files (that he maybe wasn’t supposed to know his Dad kept locked in a safe at home) and knows his Dad had someone in deep cover code name Shena who reports to a woman named Navoa. He’s seen Reyes’ reports and suddenly he’s terrified for Reyes.

“You’re Shena!”

Reyes is spooked and shushes Scott. There is noise from outside the room. “You need to leave—now.”

Scott refuses. “No—I’m not leaving you here. You need to—“

“You need to leave. Now mi vida!” Reyes is on the verge of panicking and more noise is coming from outside.

Now, for the only scene I’ve first drafted—going beneath a cut because it’s porny.

There was noise out in the hall and Reyes began swearing a blue streak under his breath saying some not nice things about how shitty Scott’s timing had been. He’d discarded the suit jacket and the crisp white shirtsleeves had been rolled up to reveal a large expensive watch encircling the left wrist which Scott recognized as one of Kandros’ spy devices. Reyes had been working and Scott had disrupted him.

Why had he decided to follow Reyes now into the back office of the absolute worst place for someone to discover just whose son Scott was? It wasn’t like the Outcasts wouldn’t know who he was on sight. Scott was the son of one of the most decorated police officers in the history of the city and he definitely should not be found in what was probably Outcast headquarters. You know the same organized crime gang that his father had spent many years trying to dismantle?

He’d just wanted to talk to Reyes and Gil had said he’d been seen going into the club.

Scott should maybe have asked what Gil was doing there as well in retrospect but that was a problem for later.

“You cannot be here—you will blow my cover,” Reyes hissed at Scott, eyes narrowed as he pulled a gun from the small of his back and slid the safety off. He made a motion for Scott to get behind him, eyes darting towards the door where the approaching noise was coming from.

“Do they know that you’re…” Scott gestured, pointing at Reyes.

“That I’m undercover? No! But finding me with you is going to—“

Scott had a terrible, terrible idea. “Do you trust me?” He interrupted.

Reyes mouth open and closed, whiskey brown eyes boring into Scott for a moment looking for something in him and there was a slight softening of the muscles around the eyes before he spoke. “I do,” he whispered. “God help me but I do.”

Scott shoved him backwards towards the leather armchair that Reyes hesitantly sat back into, hands grabbing at the armrests. “Trust me then,” he muttered as he dropped to his knees, his own hands spreading Reyes’ knees apart to allow him space to get closer. The fine weave of the fabric under his suddenly sweaty palms pulled taught emphasizing the powerful thighs underneath. “Hide the gun.”

“Scott, what are you—“ Reyes’ eyes were wide and fastened on him as Scott fumbled for his zipper.

“Try to look like you’re enjoying this,” Scott whispered as he pulled Reyes’ pants open and tugged at the navy silk boxer briefs. Reyes’ body was already reacting even as there was a strangled noise that escaped Reyes’ throat as Scott began confidently massaging the cock that was already showing interest.

Spitting in his hand to gain a bit of moisture, he encircled his index finger and thumb around the generous girth and gave a good tug, encouraging Reyes’ body to react. The idle thought that they hadn’t even kissed crossed Scott’s mind as he focused on getting Reyes hard, trying not to listen as voices contributed to get louder, It would only be a matter of time before someone came in here.

The cock in his hands was thickening and lengthening. He’d imagined what Reyes’ cock might be like before this but now he had it in front of him and had confirmation that Reyes was well hung and a grower.

Whenever they finally got around to having that date Scott was going to make sure they ended up at either his place or Reyes afterwards. He wanted to feel just how good it felt to be full of Reyes.

He shouldn’t be salivating over this given their current situation but he was.

Bending over, he blew out a deep breath onto the skin of the head before taking a delicate lick at the slit that made Reyes’ hips jerk as his tongue found the opening and he pressed on it before sealing his lips over the crown, hands trying to hold Reyes still. A hand threaded into his hair and Scott pressed into it.

“Scott, Scott, Scott,” Reyes was babbling his name under his breath and Scott had hardy started. If he was going to die he was going to suck Reyes cock first like he’d wanted to since he’d first laid eyes on the man during that call at the hotel during the sting operation.

Smirking, Scott began working his was down the shaft adding suction and spit as he went. The hand in his hair shifted to cradle his neck as Reyes’ fingers stroked down the side of his throat to feel how open it was as he swallowed Reyes cock down, the slight chill of the metal of the watchband a contrast to the warm skin of the inner wrist.

Up and down Scott bobbed, enjoying the stretch and weight of Reyes along with the taste of his precome that he lapped up when he pulled back to breathe.

When they were interrupted just a minute or so later, Scott was almost bursting in his own pants, underwear wet. He knew what they looked like and whoever it was they were getting an eye-full. Reyes sprawled out in the leather of the chair, white dress shirt with a few buttons popped with his knees spread and Scott’s head buried between his legs sucking like his life depended on it with one of Reyes’ hands buried in his hair urging him to take his cock as deep as possible.

#wip ask game #scoobybuddie #mreyder #firefighter!Scott Ryder #Undercovercop!Reyes Vidal

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seacottons · 4 years ago

Text

—ateez as boyfriends [ domestic au ]

notes: swearing. suggestive dialogue. fluff. i blame a certain someone for this, not gonna say who. @kireiwoo

— hongjoong

very caring and attentive towards you

so much so, that even his friends have complained how it isn't fair he doesn't scold you like the way he does to them

he enjoys many activities with you, such as

helping him dye his hair an ungodly color every other month

he'll insist you try experimenting with your own tresses

but you only have the courage to dye the very ends of your strands

"i don't think i can pull off that color as well as you do," you'd say.

"that's a load of bull. you'll suit every hair color."

you'll just roll your eyes playfully at his biased behavior.

other activities include getting tiny matching tattoos together.

the tiny flower and butterfly on your wrists was most likely your favorite due to its simplicity in design and the meaning behind it as well.

spontaneous dates are his favorite.

behind closed doors, he loves to constantly shower you with pecks and smooches.

often gets teased by his friends from how whipped he is for you.

randomly books vacations for you two to relax and unwind every so often.

although he enjoys it, he is a big, tired baby when it comes to traveling

always wanting to lean his head against your shoulder

or cuddling you close for warmth due to the airport's air conditioners blasting frigid air.

has written many songs about you

and when he's finally ready, he'll not only ask you to listen to them, but to also spend the rest of your life with him and share his last name as well.

— seonghwa

constant pet names

"darling."

"the sun to my stars."

"the moon to my sun."

"love of my life."

you like to call him mars, mostly.

but he revels when you call him 'twinkle eyes' for some reason.

has a habit of pulling you into his lap.

you'll subconsciously play with the strands of his hair as he does so, him being too distracted bickering with his friends to realize sometimes.

will always give you pleading looks whenever wooyoung or san tease him.

sometimes, you walk in to find wooyoung settling onto your boyfriend's back while he greedily devours the bowl of popcorn entirely by himself.

or other times when both wooyoung and san constrict his limbs with their arms whenever you're near.

"y/n can't save you now, so cut the whining."

you'll only sigh and shake your head in amusement.

"what are you guys doing to my poor boyfriend?"

"he changed the movie we were watching without our permission!"

"because i have no damn clue what's going on, and harry potter is too confusing!"

coffee dates.

loves to sleep with you tucked against his chest.

always has an arm draped around your frame.

butterfly kisses on your neck.

soft touches against the small of your back and waist.

his favorite pastime with you would be stargazing.

"baby, look. it's me, mars-io," he'd say whilst pointing up to the large, bright star in the night sky.

when it's too cloudy outside, or when the weather isn't forgiving, he'll turn on the indoor star projector he bought so the two of you can stargaze in the comfort of your own bed.

— yunho

is the epitome of romantic.

is constantly smothering you in love and affection.

always has heart eyes and admiration in his eyes at whatever small task you do or say.

rant about an ancient dynasty?

heart eyes.

bombard him with useless information about a certain abandoned island.

heart eyes.

gush about the new cute bakery that recently opened up?

heart eyes.

if you had a money jar for every time he says 'i love you', you'd have enough money to buy a plane ticket or two.

always willing to drop everything to help you with whatever it is you need.

will wake up in the middle of the night when you text him to ask if he's awake or not.

willingly stays up to keep you company.

but sometimes, when he's too tired, he'll knock out accidentally and profusely apologize to you in the morning.

very supportive of your life choices.

hates seeing you cry because it makes him want to bawl his eyes out as well.

his hugs are bone-crushing.

but he is a gentle giant nonetheless.

likes to attempt to bake pastries with you.

half of the time, the goods either turn out undercooked or burnt.

"they have love in them, that's all that matters."

will always insist that you can rant to him about anything and everything.

you've never felt so valued in your life before meeting him.

is the most understanding human being you've ever gotten the pleasure of knowing.

"i wish we were vampires," he says one day.

you give him an amused look, lips outstretched into a smile, "why, silly?"

"so we can spend an eternity together."

— yeosang

his heart flutters when you notice the smallest things he does.

it makes him feel appreciated and acknowledged.

like when he changes up his hairstyle or earrings.

or when he wears a new sweater.

a big, big softie when it comes to you.

can and will want to spend all day in your arms on his days off.

quick witted and has a knack for noticing the tiniest detail.

very shy and awkward at first.

but when he gets more comfortable as time passes on, you won't be safe from his snarky little comments anymore.

will constantly bring up the thing you said or did months ago to prove a point.

"oh, you like this flavor? three months ago you told me it tasted like vomit."

"remember that time you woke up in a rush to get to work thinking you were late, only for me to drag you back inside because it was three in the fucking morning?"

you stop mid-chew and peer up from your plate of rice.

"your point, yeosang?"

"oh, nothing this time. i just wanted to tease you."

is the type to have a mid-life crisis when you can't decide on a restaurant.

"but i don't want to eat at the chicken place again," you'll whine.

"it's been thirty minutes, and you still haven't decided what you want!"

"you're rushing me!"

"y/n! just pick!"

loves to cuddle with you, especially in the colder months.

wraps a blanket around your frame and tugs you in closer against his chest.

pretends not to understand your jokes just to spite and tease you.

loves when you cling onto him.

his favorite pastime with you would be just walking around together at night and trying out different types of street food.

or even visiting any of the local beaches for a relaxing walk together.

— san

persistently keen about whenever you feel upset or down.

he reads you better than any open book.

sometimes, it scares you, but you appreciate how he's always so eagle-eyed about your behavior.

loves to hug your head.

you allow wooyoung to crash some of your dates with san sometimes.

other times, san will whine and tell him to go find his own date.

"if y/n accepted you as a boyfriend, then you should've disclosed that i'm part of the deal as well. buy one get one free."

"as what exactly?"

"the hot, clingy best friend."

will take numerous duck-faced selfies of himself because you think they're cute.

often times, he'll ask you to mirror his expression, only for him to press his lips against yours a second before his phone snaps the picture.

likes when you kiss his dimple.

"y/n! it looks like a crater from the amount of times you've kissed it."

he likes to tease you.

a lot.

touchy.

very touchy.

always has an arm around you.

rests his chin against your shoulders.

playfully smacks your rear when you're sassy with him.

or leans in to hold your jaw whilst whispering teasing words into your ear that has you becoming docile and bothered in mere seconds.

has you wrapped around his finger as much as you have him wrapped around your own.

likes to have weekly picnics with you at the park and admires all the dogs running about.

"i should bring byeol next week. maybe she'll like to play fetch too."

"i don't think that's a good idea.."

you often find him fast asleep holding onto a plushie for dear life whenever you're away.

you'll pull it away from his arms, causing him to stir awake groggily.

he'll stare in confusion as you throw the plushie aside, before pulling you in tighter as you wriggle into his arms.

"you're softer than shiber," he'll mumble sleepily against the crown of your head.

— mingi

mingi is sometimes self-conscious around the public eye and others, but when it comes to you, those layers of fear and insecurity get stripped away instantly.

doesn't mind being vulnerable with you.

he craves affection, adores it even, but is insecure about not being able to return it well enough for his liking.

likes when you give him attention.

easily gets jealous when someone else grabs your interest.

reassuring him 24/7.

"yes, mingi. you're the love of my life."

kissing his pouting lips for good measure.

the smallest of gestures has him a blushing mess.

even holding hands in public.

when he's not being a sentimental sap, he'll like teasing you lovingly.

"wow, you have this many photos of me in your phone?"

you'll scrutinize him in confusion.

"are you that obsessed with me, y/n?"

"mingi! you told me to take half of those photos of you!"

"oh, right. i forgot."

a silence weighs down onto the two of you.

"but would you have taken them if i never asked you to?"

constantly laughs about the things you say, although you don't think you're that funny.

always seeks your approval subconsciously.

will always shield you from the rain, playfully yelling at the droplets sometimes.

"you can't make y/n wet! only i can!"

"mingi! we are in public!"

wanted to go strawberry picking because he saw a celebrity try it out on instagram live.

accidentally steps on many berries though.

"it's okay, they'll just make another plant. i did them a favor."

brags about you like no tomorrow.

even for the tiniest, minuscule thing.

"oh, i've already tried the brand of ice cream. y/n always buys that for me."

"i don't need to pay all this money for a measly slice of cake. y/n's cakes are much better."

"no, wooyoung. i'm not jealous of your new shoes." he'll lightly pinch the boy's side, "y/n and i have already bought ourselves matching pairs."

"you two are so fucking cheesy, it hurts."

when he's not bragging about you, he's boasting about himself.

but if that's what helps him raise his confidence levels up, you'll gladly sit down hours on end listening to how he has more 'swag' and 'charisma' than all of his older friends combined.

— wooyoung

teases you like his life depends on it.

says you can't get enough of him, when in reality it's the other way around.

but you let him believe whatever he wants.

but deep down he just really gets satisfied with himself if he raises your mood and makes you smile.

especially when you're not having a great day.

uses way too many emojis when texting you.

"wooyoung, why am i saved as as 'clingy bug' on your contacts?"

he'll squawk indignantly and laugh awkwardly for a second.

"who told you this lie!?"

"seonghwa?"

always wants to show off your love in front of his friends.

"no, i don't want my early birthday gift now. wait until the others show up, and do it front of them."

"but why?"

"so everyone can see how much you love me. can you also cry for good measure?"

"absolutely not."

he enjoys the dates you have in his apartment the most.

the ones where he cooks for you and asks for your help, only for him to pester you about over-seasoning or undersalting something.

"okay, fine! we'll just order take out if it tastes that bad," you pout, flinging a small piece of onion on his face.

his head instantly snaps back to eye you judgingly, fist gripping the poor spatula.

"over my dead body."

"so, y/n. how does my plating look?"

"it's beautiful, wooyoung. you've outdone y-"

"what else is beautiful?" he demands, face leaning over the table to give you a knowing grin.

you shove a piece of meat and rice into his mouth, shrugging nonchalantly.

"me."

he deflates at your answer, spluttering pieces of rice onto your face.

"jung wooyoung, you slob!"

— jongho

is the type of boyfriend to stop you in the middle of the road to tie your shoe for you.

very charming and goofy in his own way.

takes pride in himself and his abilities to cater to your every whim and need.

even when you don't ask for his help.

aggressively opens jars for you when you struggle to pry them open.

"no one messes with my y/n."

"you're fussing at a jar of pickled radish, baby."

the type to cling close to you in public in fear of any of the bicyclists or pedestrians bumping into you and harming you in any way.

sometimes acts like you're made of glass.

while it's endearing occasionally, it is a bit suffocating at other times.

doesn't believe you when you say you're tough and don't need protection.

very selfless and willing to help you with anything you need.

never one to shy away from social gatherings with his friends, always pulling you along with him despite you being shy and clingy most of the night.

also a big tease.

when you help him hold down his legs for sit ups, he asks for a smooch.

pulls away from you when you try to kiss him.

and will laugh at your pouting face as he urges you to try once more.

"stop moving, i just want to kiss you!"

after numerous tries, he finally allows you ( you truly think you over-powered him though ) to kiss his cheeks or lips.

he then proceeds to squawk loudly in retaliation and playful disgust.

although he loves teasing you, when the game is flipped the other way, he'll be a shy mess of embarrassment.

"i don't mumble your name in my sleep."

"you always do, silly."

tucked underneath his macho exterior, you know he's prone to criticism and takes it to heart much more than he likes to show and admit.

so, whenever you get the chance, you always fulfill his need to be appreciated, loved, and taken care of.

is utterly and extremely protective of you.

"who just whistled at you?" he grumbles, "i'll break their jaw like an apple, you know i will."

#ateez headcanons #ateez x reader #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #choi san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader

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honklore · 4 years ago

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hello! i just found ur blog and omfg i’m in love with your writing style! may i pls have some soulmate au hc’s for a reader who’s an artist? (i’m indecisive so you can choose who the hcs are with!) so like (insert cc u write for here) has got paint stains on his hands and like assorted sketches and stuff on his skin all the time from his soulmate. ty so much!! :]

masterpiece | quackity

(gn reader, quackity is the loml, reader is so talented but v messy, chat teases q to no end, quackity is the biggest softie in the world but refuses to acknowledge it, plantain slander)

listen to: rainbow connection (cover) by sleeping at last

sweet quackity :((

it starts when he’s eighteen, and it happens like almost immediately

he got these splotches of purple on his hands and his mom was like ?? are u getting into fights ?? are you okay???

and q rlly doesn’t mind aside from the weird questions when the colors are a little too close to red or purple

but!! nowadays mostly you just sketch w a pen

it’s during your classes usually,,, ur an art history major and you need something to occupy your hands (which is actually why you started drawing in the first place)

so during the day quackity will acquire lil sketches of famous paintings,,, or sometimes originals,,, but they’re always washed off before the day is done

sometimes random art facts/theories/studies but he has no idea why someone would write him about van gogh’s use of color

*cue u aggressively scrubbing your skin in the shower bc you always forget how permanent the ink is*

quackity is sort of... hesitant when it comes to writing on his skin. esp with streaming, he’s scared that fans will react badly ,, that negative thought keeps him at bay most days

but sometimes he writes lil notes on his legs,,, where chat won’t see anything ,,,, and they’re always either rlly sweet or rlly weird

(hope ur having a good day)

(hey bestie :P )

(soulmate my beloved)

(will u be the howie mandel to my dr. phil)

that last one made you genuinely worried for your future

badly drawn picture of a duck holding a briefcase (this is me)

which confuses you but as he draws more, you begin to associate him with ducks, and sometimes the duck wears a tie, and sometimes a beanie, and one time he had a giant blue axe which kind of concerned you

but you digress

when you get stressed u finger paint

and it’s just a way to create chaos and feel the cold paint on your skin like idk it’s relaxing yknow :)

quackity is streaming

and he doesn’t realize what’s happening. he’s reacting to attaway general,, and he’s kind of invested

it’s only when he pauses it to make a point that he notices

and he tries to hide it but chat notices right away

panicked!quackity

it’s not that he doesn’t trust chat he just knows things can get negative quickly and he wants his space to be free of that

but someone donates “artist q?”

and quackity lets the joke run

he stands up and pulls the mic super close to his mouth

“i’m in my artist arc chat! nihachu watch out >.>”

“CHAT WE’RE POPPIN OFF I AM A PAINTER NOW I PAINT”

it’s literally so silly bc q knows that chat knows but they’re letting him do his bit

and later that night he checks twitter and artist q is trending, but quackity’s soulmate is also trending

it’s all mostly supportive, and there’s already some rlly endearing fan art of quackity with paint all over his hands

quackity private tweet: ❤️❤️❤️

and he gets a lil confidence boost after that

answers questions abt u on his alt

tells the story of his mom thinking he was getting into fights

“guys paula is still my number one and my soulmate will just have to understand that”

“we already agreed we would both reject each other for taylor swift chat it’s fine”

answers donos and doodles on his hand

which he can do now bc chat knows!!!!

(you’re so talented your honor)

(have you ever seen attaway general?)

(charli d’amelio is in it)

(charli d’amelio is in it shit dixie sorry)

and you’re like !!! it’s on my hand !!!! it’s not hidden at all !!!

this image is so endearing to me like you’ve got paint stains all over your hands and quackity’s scrawl is filling in the empty spaces like he didn’t want to interrupt your work

duck with a beret, a mustache, and a paintbrush (this is me now)

ik he is going to share the most mundane things in a way of showing his love

(i listened to this song the other day)

(i bought a literal plantain today those things are big as shit)

(update: not good :/)

(i’m writing lore)

(i have an exam tomorrow)

just :(( sweet quackity wants u to know every little detail abt his life bc he wants u to know him

and you reply when u can

(added to my playlist!)

(i like plantain chips but i’ve never had the fruit alone)

(rip buddy :/)

(lore? like fnaf?)

quackity finds out you know extensive fnaf lore and the two of you stay up arguing about which is worse: the bite of ‘87 or the bite of ‘83

both of your legs look like newspapers that night and it takes a lot of scrubbing to get all of those off

one day you’re painting smth and quackity randomly gives you his discord

(add me and we can watch game theory together and see who is right)

the two of you end up watching it and getting in call with each other

when you hear his voice it’s like everything falls into place

he fills in all the empty spaces,,, answers all the questions you didn’t realize you had,,,, and he’s so wonderful that you find yourself missing him dearly whenever he’s not on call with you

you join him in calls on his streams sometimes like for jackbox or when he’s cooking

“CHAT MY SOULMATE IS A CHICA KINNIE”

you stop joining him on calls on his stream /s

but chat loves you and always takes ur side over q’s

you get tons of followers on your art account and you even get to sell some of your paintings!!

ur new favorite colors to use are blue and yellow i don’t make the rules

but everyone starts to catch on and they find it really sweet

you catch up on quackity lore solely for him and declare yourself a c!quackity apologist

you’ve definitely retweeted the meme that’s like “if villain bad why hot”

when u guys meet quackity kisses your forehead :((((

when you

a drawing of two ducks holding hands (this is us)

thank you for the kind words and for requesting !!!

#quackity au #quackity fluff #quackity x reader #dsmp fluff #dsmp au #dsmp x reader #mcyt au #mcyt fluff #mcyt x reader

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shepherds-of-haven · 3 years ago

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;;; so like if clubs were Hypothetically a Thing in the SHOH universe, would the gang ever go to one for a night out??? What would that look like???

Oh ABSOLUTELY!!! They'd be hitting up the club a lot, I feel like, given their penchants for madness and chaos! I feel like they'd go as one big group semi-frequently, and the girls would probably go out more regularly (once or twice a month), and the boys would either catch wind of it and show up too or coincidentally bump into them on the street and get roped into it!

Blade: he would probably despise a club and all of its loud lights and sounds, but he would tolerate being there for the sake of being with his friends and would sullenly nurse a drink in the corner while Trouble and Chase yelled in his ears about how lame he is for just sitting there and refusing to dance

Trouble: he'd be LIT and would be one of the lives of the party! For some reason I think he'd be all enthusiasm and elbows while dancing, kind of like Mac from It's Always Sunny...

Tallys: she'd probably not be too lively at first, nursing a couple drinks herself and just enjoying the conversation and everyone else having a good time, before she suddenly hit a threshold of being well and drunk and would get up and dance to everyone's wild catcalls, and she'd be very sensual and in-tune with herself and kind of hypnotizing to watch!

Shery: she'd be a bit too shy to dance at first and would preoccupy herself with getting people drinks or something to sort of duck out of people pleading with her to dance, but once she got a few drinks in her, she'd try hopping around in a little dance circle with everybody! I kind of picture her dancing like Pam from the Office does!

I think it'd be rare for her to get all-out blasted with alcohol; she'd have enough to loosen up and have fun, but not enough to get totally wasted and would mostly keep her wits and faculties about her!

Riel: he will stay for like a half hour before the music, sweat, and drunk people interacting with him gets to be too much. He's usually the first to tap out, but it always means a lot for everyone to see him and for him to be there, so he makes the effort to show his face and then immediately leave lol. He does participate in a betting pool with Red about how the night is going to unfold based on the varying levels of sobriety at the point that he arrives and exits, though, lol!

Chase: he's never like sloppy drunk, but he is letting loose and having a great time! He might be dancing, but a lot of his interactions at the club are talking to people (his friends or random strangers), buying people drinks, and either trying to incite chaos ("here Shery drink this REALLLLLY strong drink and then tell us who you hate most in this circle!!") or just looking out for his friends as they have a good time; he's more chill than you might expect, and is hanging out with Blade in the corner or getting drinks with Red or Trouble at the bar more than he is on the dance floor! He is absolutely doing his best to annoy stick-in-the-muds like Blade or Riel, though! He nudges people to have fun and do the whole "you only live once" thing, but he also respects their limits and never pressures them: it's his goal to make sure everyone is at ease and comfortable!

Red: he might dance a little bit and drink some, but mostly he's just there to have a fun time and blow off some steam, not want to die from the hangover in the morning! He's more vigilant at clubs and tends to be the one randomly put in charge of watching the purses or keeping an eye on coats, and in big group dance circles, he's always on the edge of the circle using his arms to politely but firmly prevent creeps or overly-aggressive strangers from grinding up on his girl friends when they're just trying to have a good time! (If you don't have a guy friend who does that, get one: everyone is quietly a little bit more in love with him in a drunken way by the end of the night!) He's almost always the one on scene trying to diffuse a fight first, along with Blade (who has to make it all the way over from his corner table) and Chase!

Ayla: if both Briony and Ayla are in the club and they are both really drunk, there is a 50% chance that one or both of them will start a fight with the first creep who gets a little too handsy or disrespectful, even if it's not directly with them and it's directed at a stranger. The other one will instantly jump in, the friends of the creep will jump in, and it will almost always turn into an all-out brawl. Strangely, this doesn't usually happen if it's JUST Ayla or JUST Briony; something about the two of them being there together empowers each to just grab a guy by the collar, lift him into the air with one hand, and start drunkenly yelling, "listen, you son of a bitch, you lay a hand on her again and i'll tear it off and feed it to you!!" and the other one will just take that as a signal to start throwing punches. It usually takes the guys to either haul them off or break up the fight, but there have been times where they just beat the crap out of everybody who came near and got thrown out of the club, lol...

If that doesn't happen, Ayla is just spectacularly wasted and dancing her ass off! She doesn't have, like, amazing dance skills, but she's got a good sense of rhythm and isn't afraid to let loose! She's not super sloppy, just fight-y in the right mood!

Briony: see above: she is either strangling a man with one hand and punching a hole in the wall close enough to his face to make him pee, or she is dancing the night away and having the time of her life! She's actually a pretty bad dancer, basically just contorting wildly and with no sense of rhythm, but she has energy and bounce, so it's always a fun time with her! She has a bad habit of getting very affectionate (physically) with her friends and then dropping absolute bombs in them in the middle of the club, like, "Redddd, you're so mean!! Why'd you accept chocolate from that recruit when everyone knows that other recruit is in love with you!! you're playing with their feelings!!" Red: "wait, who??" She's almost among the most chaotic of drunks in that she'll just start sprinting down the street while everyone is waiting for the taxi/Uber (AKA Blade, Red, Tallys, and Chase are pouring people into their proper rides), decide it's a good idea to take off her shoes because her feet hurt, and then jump into a fountain so that Trouble or something has to go fish her out, only he's drunk too, so he falls in and thinks he's drowning while she laughs thinking he's playing around before panicking and screaming that he's going to die

Lavinet: she is a DRAMA QUEEN at the club, especially while drunk! She says she just wants to dance, but she's always noticing people checking her or her friends out and pointing them out slyly, or nudging people towards attractive prospects, or she's INTERROGATING her victim of choice for the night! She is perfectly capable of dancing (flawlessly) for like an hour, then suddenly parking herself in a chair next to Trouble or someone and absolutely G R I L L I N G them about their deepest, darkest secrets without even batting an eye. It's very unnerving! Just picture her dancing on the dance floor, making her way back to the group table and gulping down cold water, fanning herself and swaying a little bit on her heels, and then just turning smartly to Trouble and being like, "So when are you going to tell MC you're in love with them?" Cue Trouble spitting out his drink! She's also the one in the club bathroom encouraging completely random strangers on how beautiful they look, consoling them if they're having the drunken meltdown common to club bathrooms, and screaming at them to not text their exes and taking their phones away if they try. Camaraderie!!!

#Shepherds of Haven #club #clubs #nightclub #modern AU #AU #um #disco #what's another word for club #drinking #alcohol #tw: drinking #tw: alcohol #drunk #group dynamic

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years ago

Text

Stalker X Stalker, Part 7

First

Perma tag: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever

No I didn't get carried away with writing domestic fluff and forget to do the one thing I was supposed to with this chapter I'm a professional and would never do that

It took a long time for Tim and Cass to convince Marinette that, no, it wasn’t a trap, it was just a normal Halloween Party. It took even longer to explain what a Halloween Party really was, because apparently it wasn’t a huge deal in France.

But, eventually, she got it:

“Okay, so every Rogue and vigilante has to go to his Halloween Party in stupid costumes… or else?”

Tim nodded. “Rogues have to go because he’ll be insufferable, we have to go because otherwise we’re leaving a bunch of Rogues alone together without supervision.”

“And it really is just a Halloween Party?”

Cass flashed two thumbs up.

Marinette still looked a little confused. “And we… we want to babysit the Rogues?”

“They mostly behave themselves. Again, Crane can be insufferable when he wants to be and they have to spend a lot of time with him in Arkham.”

“I guess that’s cool then…” Then, a thought seemed to occur to her because she brightened up. “Is Nightwing coming?”

Tim nodded, suddenly a lot more wary. “Yeah, both he and Flamebird drop by for most holidays, anyway, so they might as well… why?”

She blushed a little. “I kind of wanted to see if I could get him to train me. I think his fighting style is pretty cool.”

Tim was not jealous or annoyed that Marinette might like two of his brothers more than him. He was fine if she liked Cass more, because Cass was, well, Cass. But Dick? Damian? Come on!

At least he had a month before the party to prepare himself.

For now, he glared at Cass, because she was laughing at him behind her hand.

Then he remembered that Marinette was still there and was watching the two of them interact with a vaguely confused expression and he pulled himself together: “I don’t know if he can teach you much since he’s usually in Bludhaven, but I used to be obsessed with the guy and I know all his moves by heart.”

She tipped her head to the side, considering, then smiled at him. “Sure. Thanks, Red, I owe you one.”

He tried to hide his relief behind a smile. She smiled and blushed, so he was pretty sure it worked.

Marinette smiled as she scrolled through the Batinternet on her phone (they’d finally given her the password! She no longer had to waste data!). The batkids were all working on the computer, trying to hack into their father’s files to see their Christmas presents.

She didn’t get why they were doing it then, it wasn’t even Halloween yet. Still, they insisted that Batman was always prepared well before the holidays hit. She was curious about what they’d find, if anything, so she waited as Red Robin hacked their dad’s files.

Loud cheers erupted from the others, which meant they must have found something.

“... right, Ladybug, yours is easiest to get into… he probably didn’t expect you to try… he’s getting you an Xbox and a bunch of games to go with it.”

Her gaze shot up and she surged to the front of the group to see. “Really?”

Red Robin pointed at the screen and she blinked a few times. Yep, that was a customized Xbox. Wild.

Then her shoulders slumped. “Damn, I was only kidding. If I knew he was actually going to get it I would’ve asked for a Playstation.”

She continued looking at all the ‘random’ games Batman had bought her (he was suspiciously good at guessing what she liked), completely oblivious to the fact that she had accidentally started World War III right behind herself at the casual mention of a thing she wanted.

She glanced back at them once during their fight and they straightened instantly, innocent smiles in place. The hand Red Robin had in Robin’s hair turned into a hair ruffle. Black Bat had turned the way she gripped the collar of Spoiler’s shirt into pulling her down for a hug. Signal’s eyes stopped glowing under his domino. She smiled a little and turned back to the screen to look at the rest of the games. Fighting resumed.

Or, at least, it did until Marinette saw the file name.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“I knew you fuckers took my blood,” she hissed irritably.

She wasn’t exactly scared, the bats seemed generally well-intentioned, just paranoid, but that didn’t mean she liked it. They stole her blood to figure out her identity without asking.

They all tensed up behind her and looked at each other awkwardly.

Robin was first to snap out of it. He swatted Red Robin over the back of the head. “Look what you’ve done, Drake.”

Marinette blinked and then pulled her gaze back to Red Robin. “Drake?”

The batkids looked at each other awkwardly. Except for Red Robin, who was glaring at his youngest brother.

Spoiler was the first one to come up with an excuse: “It’s an older codename. We told him to come up with something original since everything else he’s used has belonged to someone else first… and that’s what he came up with.”

She considered whether Drake really confirmed that Red Robin was Tim Drake-Wayne. On one hand, yeah… but, on the other hand, was he really that stupid? Would he really use his own last name for a codename?

She supposed that, in all her time knowing Tim and Red Robin, he had never shown himself to be original. Smart, sure, but a little unoriginal.

So, yeah, Tim was almost definitely Red Robin.

But she was prepared to ignore it for now. Every bat seemed tense at the idea of her learning their identities, so she played dumb:

“It’s not that bad of a codename. Dragons are pretty cool.”

She could feel Black Bat still staring at her, but everyone else relaxed almost imperceptibly.

“He didn’t base himself off of dragons, he chose male ducks,” Robin informed her.

She blinked. “Why the hell would he choose ducks?”

Signal snapped his fingers and started pulling out his phone. “Oh, Mari -- can I call you Mari? -- you should see his outfit.”

Red Robin realized he was about to get murdered for his younger self’s outfit choices and tried to snatch the phone away.

Unfortunately for him, while he was concentrating on Signal, Black Bat had sidled over to Marinette. She tugged her arm to pull her attention from the two fighting boys and then showed her the picture.

Marinette stared at the ugly cockroach outfit for a long time before taking a deep breath: “Alright, first of all...”

Tim… he was fine.

Okay, no, he wasn’t.

The tracker was better, he would admit. She had even started wearing more red and black so she could wear the necklace more (something that made him feel all fuzzy inside), but she wasn’t wearing it every day and he couldn’t exactly tell if the necklace was there because she was home or if it was there because she’d worn a different outfit.

So, he only had one solution: randomly dropping by to do chores with her.

It started off with the ‘might as well’ principle. They were already out for photography and getting ideas for outfits, why not pick up some groceries while they were on their way back? She could even carry more since there were two of them.

He quickly dropped pretenses, though. The one time every few days that they hung out wasn’t enough to keep her in the house, and even if it was she clearly wasn’t fond of staying inside for long periods of time. He started dropping by every day to just go out with her.

He could tell his family was getting a little suspicious about what he was doing, Steph and Cass both narrowed their eyes at him whenever they saw him leaving the office at a normal time and once he had caught Duke following him to see where he was going… but it was fine. They weren’t going to complain about him actually getting some sort of down time.

And, he had to admit, it was nice. Not only did resting his brain for an hour or two a day do wonders for his mental health, he just… enjoyed doing chores with her? He didn’t think he would. He’d expected to like it the first few times, the novelty of going on his first grocery shopping trip or figuring out how a laundromat was always going to make it interesting and new for a bit, but it didn’t seem to be wearing off.

He was pretty sure that was because of the person he was doing it with, though.

He smiled as he watched Marinette half-climb the supermarket shelves for a bag of Takis.

“Need help?” He called.

“Nope!”

He watched her jump a few times on the lowest shelf before, eventually, climbing up another shelf.

Tim winced and surged forward to support her weight a little.

She huffed and grabbed the Takis. He set her down.

She crossed her arms. “I said I could get it.”

“I trust you. The shelves? Not so much. Do you want to die crushed under a bunch of chips?”

Her halfhearted glare morphed into a grin. “If I die any other way you have to promise to resurrect me so I can do it again.”

He rolled his eyes. “How about I resurrect you and you try not to die again for a while?”

“Hm… I guess that’d be alright.”

Then, at the laundromat, Tim saw a bunch of Two Face’s henchmen. How did he know that they were henchmen? The black and white suits kind of gave them away.

He was just wondering whether it was worth it to try and call Duke over so they didn’t risk something happening when he realized that Marinette had slipped over to them.

But she wasn’t concerned as she offered some of her detergent. “Hey, if you need to wash lights and darks together like that… you’re going to need a different detergent. I know those are cheap but there’s a reason for that.”

“Isn’t that just an old detergent problem?”

“No, separating every single color into a different load is. But, if you want to do pure black and white like that… you don’t want to risk it.”

Then she turned and glared at another goon, who was pulling their luckily still okay clothes out of the washer.

“You’d better not be putting that in the dryer.”

The sheepish look on the henchman’s face was answer enough.

She huffed. “That is airdry only why would you do that --?!”

And that’s how they ended up friends with -- and possibly under the protection of? -- a bunch of henchmen. Tim had to admit, they were really nice when he and Marinette weren’t trying to get them thrown in jail. He almost found himself slipping and hoping that Frank managed to achieve his mob boss dreams. He actually did offer to babysit Sam’s kids while she had a shift because she seemed very stressed.

“Tim, darling, do you even know how to take care of kids?”

Tim didn’t know whether to blush because she had called him darling oh my god or due to embarrassment at that massive oversight.

“Uh… would you be willing to help?”

Marinette gave him an exhausted look. “I’ve only ever babysat one kid at a time without their older sibling being there to help.”

He quickly changed the offer to paying for a babysitter. Sam was thankful regardless.

When everyone had finished laundering their clothes to Marinette’s satisfaction, the two of them headed back towards her apartment.

Tim changed the position of the laundry basket on his hip so it didn’t dig into him as much. “You know, you didn’t have to help them.”

She snickered. “First of all, you’re absolutely wrong. I couldn’t just sit by and watch them ruin their clothes right in front of me!”

He rolled his eyes, trying to hide the fond smile on his face. “And second of all?”

“Secondly…” She let him into the house and closed the door behind him. A cheeky smile formed on her face. “Well, they’re henchmen. Don’t you think it would be a good idea to have them on our side in case things go wrong rather than indifferent to what happens to us?”

It was here, with her smiling in front of him, intelligence sparkling in her eyes and the necklace he gave her hanging from her neck, that he realized that he was going to fall in love. He might not be there yet but, if they continued doing things like this, he was sure he would.

He wouldn’t mind that, he thought, as she leaned forward to take the basket from him, pressing a kiss to his cheek on the way over. He watched her disappear to her room, no doubt to fix whatever damage he had done while carrying it that would be invisible to anyone but her. He shoved his hands in his pockets and went to start up the coffee machine.

There are no botanical gardens more beautiful than the ones in Gotham. Whether that was because Poison Ivy herself tended to them or because they were kept in tip-top shape to appease her, Marinette didn’t know. Whatever the reason, it was gorgeous and Marinette had gotten quite a few different ideas. She pretty much had an entire spring collection planned out…

It was unfortunate that she’d gotten ideas for a spring collection in the middle of autumn, but she was ignoring that.

Now, they were sitting on her couch. They needed to relax after all that walking around on top of a rather exhausting night the night before (Scarecrow had broken out of Arkham to start preparing for his Halloween Party). She was completely in his space in an attempt to mess with him. It, unfortunately, didn’t seem to annoy him as he lazily rested his head on top of hers.

She huffed a little but allowed it.

He fiddled with the settings on his camera, biting his lip.

She looked down at the camera and asked: “How’d you get into photography?”

“... it’s a kind of personal story,” he said carefully. “A little sad, too, I guess.”

She tried to pull back, an apology on her lips, but he just rested an arm around her shoulders and held her close.

“It’s fine.”

She nodded as much as she could with the head resting on top of hers.

They were silent for a long time. She tried to relax herself. There were no akumas in Gotham, it was okay to accidentally upset someone and it was okay to ask them if they wanted to elaborate. They were people, people are supposed to feel sad sometimes. It’s healthy.

She took a deep breath before curling more into his side. “Would you like to talk about it?”

The arm around her tightened almost imperceptibly. “I… I guess I can, sure.”

“You don’t have to,” she said quickly. In fact, she might be a little more comfortable with that. Emotional conversations weren’t a Parisian’s forte.

But he sighed and shook his head. “It’s fine. Our relationship can’t progress all that healthily if we never tell each other anything.”

Yikes. Way to accidentally call her out on the fact that she hadn’t formed a healthy relationship in years, Tim.

“Not that I’m all that great at healthy relationships,” he said after a minute.

At least she wasn’t alone, she supposed.

“No easy way to say this, I guess… my parents weren’t the best. They’d go on trips -- they were archaeologists -- and I’d be left home alone, usually for months at a time.”

She cringed internally and took his hand in hers, rubbing comforting circles into his palm.

He sighed lightly. “So… I was lonely, obviously. I started by taking pictures of my parents. Sometimes it was all I’d have of them for months. They could leave, but the pictures weren’t able to.”

She felt him bury his face in her hair.

“I started following the bats after a while. I don’t know if it was because I wasn’t sated by pictures of just the two of them and decided to expand, if it was because they had a happy family despite a distant father and I wanted that for myself, or if it was because I wanted my parents to find out and be worried about me, or a mix of all of that… but…”

She slowly moved the camera off of his lap and pulled him into a hug. “But?”

He was silent for a bit, thinking over his answer. He shrugged and wrapped his arms around her. “It was an old coping mechanism. A way of feeling connected to people when I couldn’t actually be.”

“‘Was?’ What changed?”

He laid back on the couch and she allowed him to pull her down beside him. “People around me… started ‘leaving permanently’.”

She winced. Oh.

“It hurt a lot more to look at the pictures after that. It just felt like a reminder that I was alone.”

She frowned. “But… you’re taking pictures of me, now.” Her eyes widened. “Shit, did I accidentally trigger --.”

He shook his head quickly. “No, no. Well, kind of, but it’s okay! Every time they’ve died, it was because of some sort of shortcoming on my part. I think I’ve learned from all my mistakes. You… I won’t let you get hurt, okay?”

Marinette didn’t know how to respond. On one hand, she was pretty sure that she should be assuring him that, even if she did end up dying, that he shouldn’t blame himself… on the other hand, she had no intentions of dying and she was pretty sure it was nearly impossible for her, so maybe it was a good thing that he had chosen to protect her of all people? Maybe the problem would solve itself?

She didn’t know.

She carefully took his face in her hands, pulling him to look her in the eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay, darling?”

He gave her a tentative smile. “I sure hope you’re right.”

He had been asked to stay the night. Her excuse was that she was almost done with an outfit for him and she wanted to give it to him the second it was done and, by the time it would be, it would be too dark to go out safely.

Tim kind of felt bad that he had worried her but he wasn’t going to turn down the offer of staying over and watching her finish the outfit.

But, first, food. They dropped a million takeout menus on the desk. A long silence stretched between them as they looked at all the options.

“... what do you want?” Asked Marinette.

“I’m not in the mood for anything in particular, you?”

She sighed. “I don’t know, do you want anything?”

“I don’t want anything, what about you --?”

This continued on for about three minutes before Tim got a brilliant idea. He dialled Damian’s number and put it on speaker.

“Drake. Why are you calling? Have you been hurt?”

“No, Dami, I’m getting takeout and I was just wondering if you had any ideas.”

Marinette gave him an affronted look, but he clapped his hand over her mouth before she could warn Damian that, no, he wasn’t buying food for him he was just going to be an asshole.

“... I suppose I wouldn’t be averse to Chinese.”

“Thanks, Dami! Hope you can get Alfie to make that for you.”

“What do -- ?”

Tim hung up on his very confused younger brother.

Marinette frowned as he removed his hand from her mouth. “That wasn’t nice of you, that’s a kid.”

Tim was not about to get beaten by his brother in both identities, thank you very much.

“Alfred can cook better than anyone in the world, he’s not going to suffer.”

She snorted. “I doubt he can make food better than…” She picked through the takeout papers for a few moments before holding up a menu. “... this place!”

He squinted at the menu. “... I really hope you can speak Mandarin.”

“You’d be hard pressed to find a language I can’t speak, Timmy,” she said, absently dialling the number.

Well, he supposed that explained how a person from France knew ASL and could speak English like a native. Damn. Now he kinda wanted magical god-earrings so he could speak every language in existence.

She spoke cheerfully to the person on the other side of the line for a moment before turning to Tim. “What do you want?”

“Uh… shrimp fried rice?”

She rolled her eyes and flicked his nose. “Alright, fine, white boy.”

“It’s a safe option okay --!”

She wasn’t listening to him explain why fried rice was the best choice for him because she was relaying the order to the person on the other side of the line. She hung up with a smile.

“Food will be here in about three minutes. Do you rich people have small bills or do you just use them for tissues or something?”

He raised his eyebrows. “They go down to a hundred, right?”

She pressed her lips together thinly, clearly unsure whether or not he was joking.

He snickered and shook his head. “Nah, I think I have twenties and fifties…”

“Yeah, that won’t do. We’re going to get robbed,” she said, reaching into her purse.

“We? Didn’t know I lived here, too,” he joked.

She barely even glanced up from where she was counting money. “Honestly, with how often you’re here, you might as well move in.”

He choked. He wanted to say something smart or funny or smooth, instead all that came out was: “You --? I --? Uh --!”

She snickered behind her hand. “Love, relax, I’m just kidding. You don’t have to leave your fancy mansion with all your siblings --.”

“Wait, don’t make living here sound even better. I will do it purely to get away from them, don’t test me.”

She rolled her eyes with a grin. “Maybe that's the plan, you’ll never know.”

Tim had exactly zero idea whether they were joking or not anymore. The tone and reactions made him pretty sure they were kidding, but… what if they weren’t?

He was just gathering the courage to ask when the doorbell rang, pulling their attention to the food. She continued counting for a second before running to the door and swinging it open.

He walked up beside her awkwardly as she chatted politely to the guy to take the food inside. He knew, logically, that Marinette was actually way stronger than he was… but his stupid brain saw a thin, short woman in need of someone to help her carry things. So, he took it from the guy with a smile.

The delivery guy glanced Tim up and down before asking Marinette something. She laughed and gave a shrug. Tim did not know what was going on but he felt vaguely insulted.

He was definitely learning Mandarin after this.

The moment the door closed he whined about being insulted. She looked amused.

“You know what he said?”

“... no,” he admitted.

Her lips twitched.

“... you’re not going to tell me, are you?”

She snickered and leaned over the two bags of food in his hands. “So, you got the fried rice, right?”

“Mariiiiiiii.”

“Your food is going to get cold.”

“Beeeaaaan,” he complained.

She raised an eyebrow at him, a blush spreading across her face. “Bean?”

He grinned, feeling heat creep to his own cheeks. “I don’t know, I couldn’t think of anything for a nickname. First thing I thought of was coffee beans, so: Bean.”

“Wow, you’re such an addict,” she teased.

He continued pouting at her until she gave in.

She leaned forward to press a kiss to his nose. “He asked if you could use chopsticks or not so he could get you a fork if you couldn’t.”

He felt the blush on his face deepen. “Oh… I can’t.”

“That’s fine.” She grabbed a tote bag from the floor of her pantry and pulled out a set of plasticware.

He blinked. “... you keep plastic forks?”

She shrugged and tossed the bag back in her pantry. “Plastic forks, grocery bags, napkins, a few sets of chopsticks…”

“... why?”

“Some of us are minorities, darling.”

“What --?”

She hummed tunelessly as she worked.

Tim had fallen asleep on her shoulder. Had most of this been an elaborate plot to make him finally get some sleep? Possibly.

She didn’t feel all that bad, though. With how much he overworked himself both as Red Robin and as Tim Drake-Wayne… honestly, she was beginning to doubt that he slept at all. And, really, if a vigilante coffee addict with a magically enhanced physique is worried about your sleep schedule, you’ve got problems. Intervention was needed.

Don’t get her wrong, though, she was going to make up for lying to him. She’d move him to her bed and leave a cup of coffee for him on the bedside table. Maybe she’d even make him breakfast, it depended on how tired she was in the morning.

But that was for when she was done. For now, she was working on the last part of the outfit: she needed to lace up the corset. His posture needed a little work and she didn’t have the heart to tell him that to his face.

… besides, corset vests are cute. She wished more guys would wear them.

She smiled to herself as she pulled the last bit of lace through and tied a loose knot. Done.

She looked down at Tim. Loose strands fell in his face as he slept. The tiny wrinkles in his forehead disappeared, making him look much younger. His lips curled into a slight smile at whatever he was dreaming about.

He looked so genuinely at peace. She hated that that was abnormal for him.

She couldn’t help but worry a little about what he’d said earlier. He’d claimed that the reason he had gone up to the top of that building the day they’d met (as Tim and Marinette) was to scout out a location for photography, but now that was seeming like a lie because he apparently preferred taking pictures of people over locations… so, why was he up so high? He’d known it was illegal to be there, so she doubted he thought anyone else would be…

She swallowed thickly.

She didn’t think his mental state was that bad… but, just in case it was, she waved Tikki over for a bug and sewed it into one of his sleeves.

Tikki was looking at her disapprovingly. Marinette ignored her.

It was Ladybug’s job to make sure everyone was doing okay mentally, and she wasn’t going to fail a person she cared about of all people.

His head slipped from her shoulder onto her stomach and she sighed, trying to lightly push him off without disturbing his sleep. It didn’t work. He made a quiet sound in the back of his throat and buried his face in her stomach, his arms wrapping around her tightly.

Well, this is her life now.

… she supposed it wasn’t so bad, though.

#stalker x stalker #shutterbug #timari #maribat #timmari #timinette #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin #tim drake #yes it's all just maladaptive coping strategies #it's ME what'd you guys expect

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sinner-as-saint · 5 years ago

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WHY AM I THINKING ABOUT HOW GREAT QUARANTINING WITH BEEFY!BUCKY WOULD BE AND HOW SOFT HE WOULD BE

Oh, since my little island is on lock down as well, why not...

I bet there would not be a minute where you'd feel bored around this man

Beefy!bucky is just so warm and perfect that you could cuddle him for hours

And he'd even braid your hair while you were in his arms

Or he'd just randomly decide to tell you about stories from the past

You'd be folding the laundry and he'd walk into the room and ask;

"Did I tell you about the time I almost broke both of Steve's legs?"

And you'd just get ready for the story about pre-serum captain America.

I bet beefy!bucky likes to bake

So while the two of you are at home with nothing else to do, he'd bake you stuff he finds online.

"Hey baby, look! I made a triple layered biscoff cake with buttercream icing."

"A what?!"

Or he'd be the type of quarantine partner who would get really quiet for sometime and then you'd ask him what's on his mind and instantly regret it;

"Hey handsome, what are you thinking about?" you'd ask, walking over to him and making yourself comfortable on his lap.

"Why do they always ask what came first, the chicken or the egg? What if it's a duck egg? And the answer is neither because it's not a chicken that's involved to begin with, it's a duck."

"Get out"

"Sorry."

Oh but beefy!bucky would get cocky and very horny as well

"Who knew staying indoors could be so boring?" you'd complain, throwing yourself on the bed.

He'd immediately climb on top of you and kiss you deeply

"I have a few things in mind to keep us busy." he'd tease, already beginning to undress you.

You'd immediately give in and oh lord...

Bucky could go on for hours without needing a break because super soldier

And he'd have you whining and begging and moaning for a long while

Until you'd tremble in his arms and he'd finally decide to give you a rest and cuddle you to sleep

Or he'd run you a bath after sex and he'd end up fucking you again in the bathroom because he can never keep his hands to himself

Or he'd wash your hair in the bath and hold you against his chest and tell you about how much he loves you and how he knew he wanted to spend his life with you since the first time he saw you

Okay, but imagine braiding his hair?

Because he'd get all grumpy when you'd ask him if you could take a picture

But he'd let you take the picture anyways because really, he'd do anything for you.

I bet beefy!bucky would also pick up hobbies while he's confined at home

Maybe painting

And he's not really good at it but he'd work hard on it all morning and he'd show it to you proudly

He'd try to be all romantic at times;

"Baby, I could spend my whole life like this with you. Just you and I, locked up in our home. Right?"

But you'd always ruin the moment.

"Yeah, until we run out of food."

Maybe you and Bucky would try and complete a 2000 piece puzzle but then give up within the first 15 minutes

Omg but imagine lazily laying on the couch and watching vine compilations all day while Bucky wraps his big arms around you and stares at your phone screen like he can't understand English anymore.

But then he gets it and a few days later, you two would quote vines all day and everything just gets funnier

I bet you and Bucky would just be lazy and do nothing and walk around all day half naked

Always making out or fucking

Or watching your favorite movies on repeat until you're sick of them

You two would finish all the tubs of ice cream you bought within the first few days itself.

"Babe, what did we do all day?"

"Nothing. Literally nothing."

Okay but he'd be so into conspiracy videos.

And you two would just watch those all day and get mind blown and then talk it out and come up with your own conspiracy theories.

Making unhealthy food and eating all day; you two could survive on grilled cheese and cereal only.

But imagine stargazing with Bucky; both of you sat on the balcony and drinking wine and eating all your quarantine snacks

And he'd start saying some other romantic stuff like "I would name each and every star after you if I could."

And you'd always ruin the moment

"For all we know," you'd point randomly at a star, "that could be a asteroid on its way to kill us all."

"Why are you like this?" he'd sound defeated.

You'd giggle. "Oh shut up, you love me."

He'd lean in to kiss you, "Hmm, i do."

In conclusion, everyone deserves a beefy!bucky as a quarantine partner.

a/n: stay inside. Take care of yourselves and your pets. I love you.

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melatovnik · 4 years ago

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ok ur top faves wangxian fics go

hey yati! 🥰️

alright, so first things first, here’s a big wangxian fic rec list i made a while ago, if you wanna check that one out too! consider the list below part 2. these are all my faves so far since my last rec list (as you'll quickly see, i have a LOT of faves).

and just a fyi/psa/disclaimer for anyone reading this: some of these fics have disturbing themes and/or kinky/freaky sex! make sure to check the authors’ tags and notes before reading. also, much like my first rec list, there’s going to be a mix of mdzs and cql canon, characterizations, dynamics, etc., so bear that in mind.

....ok GO

live from new york by varnes | rated E | 87K words | THE snl au fic!!!! yes, by snl i mean saturday night live. this is perhaps the best and funniest story i've ever read, period. varnes is a fucking genius. read this fic.

Wei Ying lets out a long, ugly groan. “I am fine, Lan Zhan. Everybody is overreacting, it’s so embarrassing for all of you.”

“You had undiagnosed pneumonia, which you walked around with for weeks until you passed out during dress,” Lan Wangji corrects him. “It got a big laugh, until everyone thought you were dead.”

He keeps his voice even and does not tell Wei Ying that it had been Lan Wangji who caught him, who called the ambulance, and who rode with him to the hospital, where he was yelled at by nurses who wanted to know why he hadn’t noticed that Wei Ying couldn’t stop shivering or string proper sentences together.

“Rumors of my demise have been vastly overstated,” Wei Ying says. “Anyway, I’m already feeling much better. Basically fine. Really almost completely back to normal, so stop babying me and tell me why the fuck you let your stupid brother hire the worst man in the world to host our show.”

OR: the one where they all work at SNL, Yanli's ex-boyfriend is hosting, and that's just the beginning of everybody's problems.

swiss cheese theory by varnes | rated M | 19K words | sequel to snl au fic!!!!!! another must-read.

The Swiss Cheese model of accident causation likens human system defences to a series of slices of randomly-holed Swiss Cheese arranged vertically and parallel to each other with gaps in-between each slice. Defences against failure are modelled as a series of barriers, represented as slices of the cheese. The holes in the cheese slices represent individual weaknesses in individual parts of the system. The system as a whole produces failures when holes in all of the slices momentarily align, permitting "a trajectory of accident opportunity," so that a hazard passes through holes in all of the defences, leading to an accident.

OR: Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian go to the courthouse.

OR: “Sweethearts,” the city clerk had said, very gently, “you’re already married.”

best friends forever by varnes | rated T | 17K words | alright, so like, strictly speaking, wangxian isn't the focus of this fic, BUT. this fic is so good!! it is seriously so good, and it made me fall in love with jin ling/lan jingyi. also, it's varnes, so read it!

It happened like this: Jin Ling was a sect leader now, which was, and Jingyi really meant this, fucking hilarious. There were few things funnier, in his honest opinion.

Because he was young, and inexperienced, and also — it had to be said — a real shithead, there was apparently some belief amongst his advisors that the best way forward, to promote the picture of a stable, mature sect leader who absolutely did not cry at the drop of a hat, was for Jin Ling to get married.

OR: Jin Ling and Jingyi get engaged.

Things spiral from there.

For a Good Time, Call by ScarlettStorm | rated E | 171K words

The picture is of Wei Ying, that much is clear. It’s of a lot more of Wei Ying than Lan Zhan is used to seeing. He supposes that, technically, Wei Ying is dressed. It’s a bare technicality, since one of Wei Ying’s hands has rucked up his black tank top practically to his collarbone, showing a long expanse of abdomen and one nipple. Sweat beads on his sternum, catching the light like jewels. His other hand is--Lan Zhan feels his eyes widen, as though unable to look away from a train wreck--on his hip, one thumb tugging down the waistband of a pair of red briefs. Wei Ying is biting his lower lip and looking directly into the camera, sultry, his eyes dark and inviting. His erection is obvious, outlined against the red of the briefs and framed carefully with the hand on his hip. Lan Zhan’s brain goes wildly, screamingly blank.

Or: Lan Zhan accidentally finds his best friend's OnlyFans account and has an ongoing emotional crisis.

love, in fire and blood by cicer | rated E | 360K words | i actually haven't finished this one since i was reading it when it was a WIP, i need to reread it and catch up fjdskl;fjsd, but i love it very much!!!!!! oh my god he wanted to look nice for his husband..... 🙃 [screams with mouth closed]

"You want Wen Ruohan dead," the Patriarch continued idly. "You want his corpse puppets eliminated. You want his halls burned to the ground and his soldiers disemboweled and begging for mercy. Have I about covered it?"

He gave another knife-edged smile.

"But what will you give me in return?"

"We would be willing to offer quite a bit in return for Wen Ruohan's defeat," Lan Xichen admitted. "But I'm afraid we don't know what an immortal such as yourself desires. Please advise us."

The Patriarch waved at hand at the front of the tent. "I want Second Young Master Lan."

(In which the Sunshot Campaign ends through an arranged marriage to the Yiling Patriarch, and Lan Wangji suffers the mortifying ordeal of falling in love with his own husband.)

how to fall in love with a catfish: a guide by wei wuxian (disaster rat) by bwyn & Yuisaki | rated T | 55K words

A new plan hatches in Wei Wuxian’s head. If this nocturnal, bottom-feeding, slimy, invasive mudcat posing as a beautiful actor thinks he can sway Wei Wuxian with animal pictures and a sob story and an unbelievably stilted way of texting with still no dick pictures in the first five minutes of conversation, he has another thing coming. Wei Wuxian’s got it, alright, he has this in the fucking bag.

Wei Wuxian plots to expose a catfish using strategic memes and turtle pictures while wiggling his way out of family dinner. Lan Wangji just wants companions.

there’s no promised goodbye here by Yuisaki | rated T | 54K words

Jiang Cheng stares at him. “Didn’t you say you broke up five months ago?”

“Yeah.”

“So why do you have a picture of you two kissing taped to your fridge?”

“Because we’re too broke for magnets,” Wei Wuxian explains, then considers that statement. “Well, I’m too broke for magnets. Lan Zhan probably refuses to buy them because he’s trying to have lofty ideas about the moral failings of materialism.”

Wei Wuxian navigates the trials of living with his ex-boyfriend in apartment 1301.

paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3 | rated E | 54K words

To say that he runs to his car would be incorrect, as he is a Lan, and running is both undignified and unnecessary unless in immediate danger. Nor does he slam his key into the ignition, or aggressively swerve around the cars on the freeway, or have a mild panic attack at the fact he is picking A-Yuan up late from school for the first time ever.

He comes close, though.

By the time he arrives, it’s 4:35PM, and he has imagined about fifty different worse-case scenarios. The door is partly open when he gets to it, a messy label of 104B—Art Room scrawled with chalk on a placard next to the faded wood. As he opens it fully, he expects to see a wailing, terrified child, or perhaps a scene of utter misery and betrayal.

What he finds is his son, hands covered in paint, being sung to by a beautiful, dark-haired stranger.

“Ducks live in the pond, yellow ducks, happy ducks!”

Lan Wangji stops in his tracks.

(Or: Falling in love with your son’s art teacher, in five parts)

a paper friend by sunzu | rated G | 5K words

Lan Wangji finds a paperman far from its body and helps get it home.

-Or-

Lan Wangji unknowingly meets Wei Wuxian for the first time.

All Caught Up by brooklinegirl | rated E | 37K words

"Betrothed," Wei Ying says indignantly.

Lan Wangji can't stop his gaze from darting up to him. Wei Ying understands. Wei Ying is looking at him, wide-eyed and upset on his behalf.

"And you don't even like her," Wei Ying says.

"I don't even know her," Lan Wangji says quietly.

"But even if you did—" Wei Ying starts.

"I wouldn't want this," Lan Wangji finishes.

Lead Me On Through by mrsronweasley | rated E | 55K words | oh look another canon-era practice kissing fic fjdskfl;ds

"Who do you think your betrothed is?" Wei Wuxian asks, sprawling out in front of Lan Zhan and enjoying the prim thinning of his lips at the question. He shouldn't be sprawling—they're in the library, for one, and Lan Zhan is studying, for another—but he can't help himself. Wei Wuxian is a sprawler.

"I do not believe this to be of importance," Lan Zhan responds, without turning his gaze away from his book.

"What!" Wei Wuxian sits up. "How can you say that? Of course it's important! This is the person you'll be with for the rest of your life, Lan Zhan."

I Started From the Bottom/And Now I'm Rich by x_los | rated E | 58K words | ok so i know that in my spiel above i said to mind the tags, etc., but actually pay no mind to the first two relationship tags for this fic. i PROMISE that this isn't that sort of dead dove fic fjdksl;fjs;lifkj. i. it. it's wangxian. don't sweat it. don't even trip. just—this fic fucking rules. it's completely insane and it slaps. wei ying is a girlboss and a bitch and i like her So Much

“First, you get the money. Then you get the power, respect - hos come last.”

Wen Qing traps Wei Wuxian in the Demon Slaughtering Cave, but Wei Wuxian isn’t interested in being the beneficiary of the Wen Remnants’ noble sacrifice. His efforts to free himself accidentally send him back to the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign. Coreless but armed with demonic cultivation, knowledge of the future and his wits, Wei Wuxian takes advantage of this opportunity to come out on top of both the war and its aftermath—before either has a chance to happen—by marrying and swiftly burying the cultivation world’s worst men.

Lan Wangji is confused, hurt, and uncomfortably aroused by Wei Wuxian’s improbably elaborate series of Sect-themed bridal negligees.

rather cruelly used and rather reserved by x_los | rated M | 14K words

In the month between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian leaving Yi City and their attending the cultivation conference in Lanling, Wei Wuxian discovers a locked room in the Jingshi. It is a mystery that clever and curious Wei Wuxian is doing everything in his power to avoid solving.

But the rose was awake all night for your sake/Knowing your promise to me by x_los | rated E | 8K words | resentment tenties~

The resentful energy occupying Wei Wuxian's body like an enemy army is very interested in giving him Lan Wangji, tied up with a bow.

Wei Wuxian is hoping that Lan Wangji (who is far too noble and very keen to save Wei Wuxian's misguided soul) doesn't find out about any aspect of that.

Mo Money, Mo Problems by x_los | rated M | 3K words

After the Mo family perishes in distressing and mysterious circumstances, Wei Wuxian, still reeling from his reincarnation, tries to dip back into their manor for a little travelling money. (Forward planning! What a concept!) Lan Wangji catches him immediately, and is highly unimpressed (read: furious) with Wei Wuxian’s decision to run away from him in the first place.

Standing Engagement by x_los | rated M | 18K words

Lan Wangji believes he and Wei Wuxian are essentially engaged. While they search for his missing betrothed, he accidentally reveals as much to Jiang Wanyin. Now everyone in the cultivation world knows about the imminent marriage, except for Wei Wuxian himself.

Coming Back to Yourself by acernor | rated E | 22K words | genital swapping for fun and nonprofit!

Lan Wangji gets cursed with a ~woman's body~ and has to orgasm to go back. Since he's 1) a virgin 2) super repressed and 3) SUPER gay, he has no idea what to do.

If only he had a super nosy friend who's read lots of erotic novels who could help him figure out what to do... hm...

Save a Sword by etymologyplayground | rated E | 5K words | a fic inspired by the above fic!

Lan WangJi presses a kiss into his throat, which draws a shivering whine from him. "Like this," he agrees, his voice so low. Then he slides one warm elegant hand down Wei WuXian's chest to his belly, and then to his — to his —

fan ending for acernor's fabulous masterpiece "coming back to yourself" because i'm a huge goofball and that fic fucks

Our Eyes on the Road by etymologyplayground | rated E | 23K words | brought to you by lore (the author) and Orville Peck's hit song Drive Me, Crazy

Lan Zhan is silent for a long moment, and the van's speakers quietly pipe the second song on the album into the empty space between them. Then Lan Zhan shifts his hand a little on Wei Ying's leg, presses his fingers once into the meat of his thigh. "Alright," he says.

"Alright," Wei Ying echoes in a wheeze.

"Is that better?" Lan Zhan checks, because he is a good boy. Then he spreads his fingers out a little wider, because he is evil and must be stopped.

Lan Zhan is driving to Chicago. Wei Ying tags along.

Worship you till morning comes by feyburner | rated E | 7K words

A meet-cute, a first date, a sleepover.

Let's take a ride round the curves of desire by feyburner | rated E | 6K words | yeah........... uhh, yeah.

Wei Ying was sprawled on the floor in front of the oscillating fan when Lan Zhan got home from work.

The Roots Grow Riotous by hansbekhart | rated E | 105K words | a beautifully crafted, emotionally harrowing fic. i should warn you (since it's not quite tagged as such) that while wangxian is endgame, the overall story doesn't have the sort of happily-ever-after ending you might expect. i’ve seen it described as open-ended but hopeful and cathartic, which i find to be a pretty accurate assessment

Sometimes Lan Zhan doesn’t work through lunch. Sometimes he makes conversation with coworkers in the halls. Sometimes he goes home instead of spending the last hour trawling through Grindr. But mostly, that’s exactly what he does. The sameness is comforting. His life spools out in easily measured increments: capsule collections, yards of hand dyed textiles, ninety day lead times, sell through figures, cost of goods sold.

Every date in manufacturing can be calculated backwards and forward from a single horizon point: the date that the goods must arrive into the country where they'll be sold. Other than that, nothing else really matters.

总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near) by yiqie | rated E | 76K words | i can't recall a fic ever affecting me as much as this one did. one of the best stories i've ever read. so, so, so crushingly beautiful. it's viscerally distressing/upsetting at times, especially at the start, so please heed the tags and author's note (they provide a way to skip the beginning scene if needed)!

That’s just the thing, isn’t it? Wei Ying feels nothing. He doesn’t feel anything, and this emptiness should scare him. He knows he should be scared. He wants to be scared. He isn’t. Fear itself is never scary; fear is just a response. It means that your body wants you alive. It’s the absence of terror that scares him.

请兔子吃晚饭; treating a bunny to dinner by yiqie | rated T | 3K words | read this one to recover from the above fic

It’s not really about the food. Being able to share it in the same space is its own kind of magic.

爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie | rated E | 69K words | and then read this one to feel harrowed again, this time in canon-verse!

Wei Wuxian has certainly hoped so ardently in his two lifetimes, for so many different things, in so many different ways, that he could have summoned the demon to his front door with his bare hands. His eyes wander to Lan Zhan, settle on the back of his head, the blue-black curtain of his hair. Oh, how he has hoped.

在此恭迎夷陵老祖; to yiling laozu, the great and venerable by yiqie | rated M | 7K words | read this one to recover from the above fic (this time in canon-verse)

“You don’t know? In Yiling, there’s a tree at the edge of town, one that stands at the fringes of where the city ends and the Burial Mounds begin, called the Lover’s Tree. They say if you write a letter and nail it to its branches, Yiling Laozu will receive it, and he’ll reply.”

你的阳光下; wanna hide in your light by yiqie | rated T | 2K words | :')

Lan Zhan shuts off the water before it can start getting cold, because Wei Ying still needs to take one. Any other day, Wei Ying would have slunk in, pretending to be annoyed that Lan Zhan started without him, and neither of them would have want for hot water, but Wei Ying is still asleep.

From my heart's ground. by orange_crushed | rated E | 38K words | get (orange) CRUSHED!!!!!!!

After a while he can feel a palm against his face, gentle fingers soft and soothing. It’s not real, not exactly: he can tell the difference between a ghost’s touch and a living person’s, between a spirit-vision and an overactive imagination. His education has been thorough. But the beating has also been thorough, so for now he forgets what he knows and leans into it, into the hand cupping his cheek. It’s soft and dry as those forgotten petals, as the touch of a pillow. He can smell wildflowers, can taste blood and dirt. My baby, his mother says, and he closes his eyes. My treasure. He barely remembers the sound of her voice, but the feeling of it is just the same. Just the same as ever.

[In which Lan Wangji loses almost everything, plants a garden, and grows a second chance.]

Pentimento. by orange_crushed | rated E | 73K words | this fic briefly gave me a serious case of career envy :/ ......but seriously, this is an absolute must-read!!!

When Wangji was eighteen he’d walked into the first class of his fall semester painting module and there’d been a boy in a hilariously ugly floppy knit hat sitting cross-legged on the floor at the front of the room. He’d had a sheet of canvas paper taped to his board and his board clamped between his legs and a tackle box of brushes and tubes—a real fishing tackle box, with a fish-shaped logo on it that said BASS, not one of the nice art supply storage boxes they sold in the campus bookstore, like the one Wangji was carrying—open beside him. Everyone else had settled into the rows of stools and easels, but that boy had stayed on the floor for the whole two hour and thirty minute studio. Wangji had looked at him and thought, that idiot’s back is going to hurt.

[Former best friends Lan Wangji, paintings conservator, and Wei Wuxian, art handler, meet again and realize... neither of them were actually in unrequited love.]

Many happy returns. by orange_crushed | rated E | 25K words

His fingers are still clasped between Wangji's. In the mirror Wangji watches him tuck his coat between his thighs so that he can fuss with the tucked-in hem of his shirt, tousle up the side of his hair, all one-handed. "I hope what I'm wearing is okay."

"It's good," Wangji says. "You look good."

"I guess I must," Wei Ying says, and then he smiles and bites his teeth into his bottom lip for a second, devastatingly, and before Wangji can drop dead the doors to the elevator slide open, and the hostess station appears.

[In which lonely businessman Lan Wangji meets the right wrong person and changes the course of his life.]

The dreamers. by orange_crushed | rated E | 17K words

“Stop mothering me,” Wei Ying protests. “Why don’t you ever listen?” He scowls at Wangji, but then the lure of the clean water is too much; he sits grumbling and strips off his vambraces and loosens the collar of his robes and wipes himself down in the steam. Wangji sits on a stool and watches him, and after a while Wei Ying slaps the rag into the bowl and glares back. “Are you going to sit and stare the whole time?” he demands. “You want to see me strip naked and give my filthy evil self a good scrubbing, huh?”

Yes, Wangji thinks.

[This is a story about a horrible war and a beautiful dream; about grabbing happiness where you can find it, and not letting go.]

mercy, tear it down. by orange_crushed | rated E | 31K words

“You want me to call you good?” Wangji says. “To make you feel good?” Wei Ying makes a wretched, soft, surprised sound in the back of his throat. “Then will you be good?”

“Uh,” Wei Ying says. His lashes flick down again, nervously. “Good how?”

Wangji hasn’t quite thought that far ahead.

Kingfisher Feathers by Anonymous | rated E | 83K words | WIP (7/10 chapters, last updated 4/13/21) | omg omegaverse!!!! @/ this anon author... keep up the great work! also i have feelings for u

With an almost trance-like detachment, Wei Wuxian touched his own neck, his fingers skimming over the fresh mark. The bite wound had stopped bleeding, although he had no doubts it would open again if agitated.

Bonded.

He was bonded for life.

"Shit," he whispered. He looked over at the sleeping form of Lan Wangji—the Second Prince of Gusu and, until his brother was found, the sole heir to the throne. "Oh, shit. Lan Qiren is going to kill me."

----------

Lan Wangji goes into a fevered rut and accidentally bonds with Wei Wuxian. When they next meet, he remembers none of it, and Wei Wuxian is determined to keep the bond a secret—even when he's sent to the Cloud Recesses to be a consort in Lan Wangji's harem.

(tl;dr concubine!wwx is already married to emperor!lwj, who has no idea. drama ensues.)

Pull out game weak by 74243 | rated E | 23K words | featuring the hottest meanest dom top lesbian lwj of your wildest dreams. i hope ao3 user 74243 is having an amazing day

Wei Ying swipes right.

Extra Time by Anonymous | rated E | 28K words | fic inspired by the above fic! seriously good

How Wei Ying learned to stop worrying and love the strap (an AU of 74243's Pull out game weak)

Superfan by 74243 | rated E | 19K words | ao3 user 74243 writing banger after banger as per usual

“I’m not going to apologize for my job,” Wei Ying said, “so if you want to give me some kind of lecture--”

“No,” Lan Zhan said. “You misunderstood. I am...” she paused, as if considering the best way to put it. “I’m a fan.”

Spit in my mouth, look in my eyes by 74243 | rated E | 7K works | i'm just going to list all of ao3 user 74243's fics, ok? that's what's gonna happen here

Wei Wuxian was a little surprised herself, although she felt bad for being surprised. Of course it didn’t really mean anything about you, how you presented, Wei Wuxian knew that better than anyone, but all the same it was hard to reconcile Lan Zhan as an omega.

(wwx makes an error of judgment)

If the shoe fits by 74243 | rated E | 8K words

Wei Ying loses a bet.

the And they were roommates series by 74243 | rated E | 19K words total

That was the other thing, when Wei Ying had moved in. She’d scented Lan Zhan immediately, the sandalwood and smoke rising off her, almost before she’d taken in Lan Zhan’s straight posture, her narrowed eyes. She’d known that Lan Zhan could tell, too. At the end, when they’d talked about the rent and Lan Zhan’s nearly finished PhD and Wei Ying’s working hours, Wei Ying had said, casual and effortless, “And you don’t mind that I’m an omega.”

“No,” Lan Zhan said.

Chef's kiss by 74243 | rated E | 7K words

Wei Ying said, “You know, in some ways I’m kind of depressed. I took your biggest dick on my first try. Now I don’t have anything to build up to.”

“There are bigger ones available,�� Lan Zhan said lazily. “I can pay for express shipping.”

(Lan Zhan works the late shift.)

Gold-palmed Warrior Quest! by 74243 | rated E | 13K words

When Lan Wangji suggested that they camp along the way to the Unclean Realm, rather than staying at inns, Wei Wuxian had been sceptical.

Dway! by 74243 | rated E | 6K words

“Hm,” Wei Ying said. “You like it rough, though, right? You seem like that kind of alpha.” When she saw Lan Zhan’s expression she raised an eyebrow. “What? Was I wrong? Are you tender and sweet? Do you cry?”

“You were not wrong,” Lan Zhan said. “I do not cry. Do you?”

tgif by 74243 | rated E | 17K words

Today Lan Zhan says that if Wei Ying cannot control her mouth then she will have to tape it shut.

On the ground by 74243 | rated E | 5K words

“I think you will like it,” Lan Zhan said.

Does your mother know by 74243 | rated E | 5K words | editing this rec list on a monday morning to add this brand new fic fresh off the presses. thank u ao3 user 74243 for feeding us so well 🙏

“Lan Zhan is such a well-behaved girl,” Madam Yu said.

all that and more by Euphorion | rated E | 20K words

Wei Wuxian locks his phone and puts it down, blinks at his ceiling, and picks it up again. The pictures are still there.

His first thought is that Lan Zhan meant them for someone else. That he just woke up at—he checks the timestamp—6:30 am on a Sunday and decided to go absolute full nuclear seduction option on some poor boy he met on Grindr, who would now be missing out on the best thing to ever happen to him because Wei Wuxian had a bad habit of distracting—of—oh.

Pieces of last night start to resurface and paste themselves together in his head. He winces.

The Golden Cutsleeve by syrus_jones | rated E | 77K words | of my faves, this is one of my favorite... faves. top faves. incredibly fun and silly and hot. just... oh my GOD, wei YING!

“I know! Why don’t you try it? Let me go and I’ll lend it to you!” Wei Wuxian bribed hysterically, desperate to escape from this encounter by any means necessary. And then, his eyes blew wide, realizing what he just said. ‘Wait— just what am I offering Lan Zhan?!’ he thought. How was he so stupid, how did he just offer that without thinking—

“You want me...to use it… after you?” Lan Zhan asked, his voice unusually faint.

~*~

Wei Wuxian's test of mysterious, literally magical sex toy goes awry when Lan Wangji finds him in the woods 'experimenting' with it and it ends up in Lan Wangji's possession.

Unfortunately, neither of them is aware that the toy is anchored to Wei Wuxian's body. Too bad Wei Wuxian invited him to try it.

Boy Trouble, We've Got Double by saltyfeathers | rated E | 60K words | !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is a really good fic

Lan Zhan stands there in his immaculate, cloud-patterned Lan robes, watching him calmly, one fist tucked up against his back. “I am betrothed.”

Wei Wuxian blinks. “Are you…” He tries to laugh. Again, it sounds inhuman. “Is this about last night? Are you mad at me? I only remember some of it, Lan Zhan. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’m sure whatever I did I was just—” He gestures uselessly. He remembers being warm in Lan Zhan’s lap. He remembers fitting snugly in Lan Zhan’s lap. Wrapping his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck. Nosing at his jaw. “…playing around.”

“This has nothing to do with you, Wei Wuxian.”

none in the forest so bright as these by saltyfeathers | rated E | 6K words

Wei Wuxian puts a hand to his head, brain lost in fog. “Lan Zhan,” he pants. “Why are we here? Are we on a hunt?”

As Lan Zhan tries to remember, his brow furrows. He shakes his head slightly. “I don’t know.”

“This is bad,” Wei Wuxian says. When Lan Zhan cups his cheek again, sparks burst behind Wei Wuxian’s eyes. “Or maybe it’s not,” he says unthinkingly. Sighs, almost. Lan Zhan looks at his own arm like it's betrayed him. Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and presses his face into Lan Zhan’s palm. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” he murmurs. “What’s happening to us?”

out in the garden, there’s things you hid away by saltyfeathers | rated E | 121K words | oww oww oww 😣😣😣💘

There is a man with empty eye sockets and tears of fire in Wei Wuxian’s dreams. Tendrils of smoke curl around him in sleep, pressing at his most vulnerable spots, seeking entrance, slipping between his ribs.

When he ignores Lan Zhan's offers of help, he declines rapidly. He will die. Or, he should. Anyone else would.

Instead, he flees. And transforms.

crawling through your door by saltyfeathers | rated E | 12K words

Lan Wangji kisses him. When he pulls away, he speaks into the silence between them, because when he is with Wei Ying, he so rarely considers. “Why don’t you touch me anymore?”

Lan Zhan Works for the Historical Society by saltyfeathers | rated E | 7K words | some real real good lesbian action up in here

Pretty Lan Zhan. Beautiful Lan Zhan. Ice queen Lan Zhan. So intimidating and femme and coldly polite in public, yet meaner than a man in the bedroom. Wei Ying has slept with men before and none of them were mean-nice to her like Lan Zhan.

threadfic by saltyfeathers | not rated (each chapter rated/tagged individually) | 34K+ words | WIP (11/? chapters, last updated 3/15/21), but it’s a collection of stand-alone oneshots

semi cleaned-up wangxian twitter threadfic.

【已經打動我的心】So Sing To Me All Night by aroceu | rated T | 10K words | arrow writes wei ying so exquisitely well. i was weepy the whole time read this fic. for the best experience, i recommend following along with the accompanying spotify playlist.

No one listens to the radio in this day and age, but somehow from a bunch of left clicking and right clicking, through Facebook and Twitter and Youtube, Wei Ying finds himself on the WQHS homepage—the UPenn student radio station, promising eclectic tastes from a variety of hosts. Wei Ying can't remember giving a shit about his old college's student radio before he dropped out, but it's eleven at night and he has nothing else better to do. He clicks on the button that says Listen Here! and waits to be impressed.

get wild by aroceu | rated E | 24K words | 🔥🏀🔥 BASKETBALL FIC 🔥🏀🔥

He was looking for a specific reaction—to get Lan Zhan to lash out. All hard edges and demanding, the same way during the first scrim, Lan Zhan's dark voice had made him loose and obedient, itching to both rebel and obey at the same time.

It's them, whatever it is, but it doesn't belong on the basketball court.

Wei Ying didn't expect to enter a weird... something-with-benefits-plus-power-play with the captain of the Gusu basketball team. He's not sure if it's worth it.

without a warning by aroceu | rated T | 10K words | 🥺️🥺️🥺️

“Blegh,” Wei Ying says. “I hate being sick, Lan Zhan… my throat is so sore… why do I talk so much?”

“Stop talking then,” Lan Zhan says.

“You don’t mean that,” Wei Ying says, in his half-asleep daze. “I know you’ll never admit it, Lan Zhan, but you like it when I talk.”

your honor i’m a freak bitch by aroceu | rated E | 6K words

Wei Ying gestures to his outfit. His hands are buried deep within the hoodie; he’s mostly gesturing with the sleeves. “Well, it works with the whole get up, you see?”

“The…” Lan Zhan looks down at where his fingers are toying with the top of Wei Ying’s thigh highs. Wei Ying pretends he is not shivering. “…skirt. And these stockings.”

“Thigh highs, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying says, batting at him with the end of a sleeve.

Play It By Ear by aroceu | rated T | 7K words | MY HEART !!!

In the virtual airplane flying over the island, appropriately called Yiling, Lan Zhan watches as bits and pieces of the island load in. There are many Statues of David, a gothic teacup ride, and, from what Lan Zhan can see, an entire field of spoiled turnips.

hanguang-jun @/hanguangjun Do you need turnips to sell?

timmy and tommy in a trenchcoat @/yilinglaozu oh! no haha! 😅 those are from a while ago but my brother insists i keep them there

for the ~aesthetic~

the key that our souls were singing by aroceu | rated M | 5K words

“I haven’t seen you since—Gusu, was it?” Wei Ying says. “Oh my god, it’s been so long. I didn’t even know you were LGBT! Unless you’re here as an ally, which is also totally cool—”

“No, I.” Lan Zhan coughs. Her throat feels dry. “I am a lesbian.”

abort retry fail by aroceu | rated E | 21K words

Lan Wangji must miss his husband over this amnesiac of a man Wei Wuxian has turned into. Well, Wei Wuxian will show him! He'll be even better—or at least, try to be just as good of a husband as he would be, without his memory loss.

Blackout If You Were Mine by aroceu | rated E | 9K words

Wei Ying likes to wear chokers a lot. So Lan Zhan buys some for him. Then, testing their limits, collars.

Wei Ying wears those, too.

Or, the one where Wei Ying and Lan Zhan accidentally stumble into a BDSM relationship.

eleven thousand meters & airborne by aroceu | rated E | 5K words | 😎✈️😎

Lan Zhan and Wei Ying join the mile high club.

many fox given by defractum | rated E | 24K words | can't go wrong with foxxian and dragonji content 🦊🐉

Lan Zhan is glaring at him. That's probably fair.

The last time they'd seen each other, Wei Ying had been digging through Lan Zhan's garbage. They'd made eye contact over the shredded bags, the week's trash scattered around him like stinky, oversized Lego.

Lan Zhan's eyes had been wide with horror, and Wei Ying's had been equally wide with feigned innocence. He'd reached out slowly, maintaining the eye contact, and then flipped over the food waste bin full of onion peel and carrot skin as a distraction and slunk off into the night. Probably not his finest moment.

Modern AU dragon!LWJ meets fox!WWX.

the tamed by defractum | rated E | 12K words

If the Second Jade of Lan insists on bringing the Yiling Patriarch as his guest to the next Cultivation Conference, he must first demonstrate a control over the Yiling Patriarch and his unnatural abilities.

The letter lies on their desk for days.

Post-canon, Wei Ying is invited, sort of, to a Discussion Conference.

us in a king-size, keep it a secret (say i'm your queen, i don't wanna leave this) by matcha_ado | rated E | 3K words

People always said Wei Ying was a royal pain in the ass. They were absolutely right, of course, just not in the way they thought.

it is wednesday my dudes by jelenedra | rated M | 4K words

Wednesday nights at Cloud Recesses strip club are always a little weird, but usually they're not this horny. Whatever Wei Ying and Lan Zhan get up to, Mianmian is not going to be the one to clean it up.

i'm the one for your fire by occultings | rated E | 43K words | cherry magic au! love it

Wei Ying, virgin and noted heterosexual, gets hit with a curse of an unusual nature on his 30th birthday — through physical contact, he can read the minds of others around him.

Enter Lan Zhan, hot former rival and current coworker, whose true thoughts about Wei Ying are nothing like he expects. (A loose Cherry Magic AU)

a thousand teeth, yours among them by darkredloveknot | rated E | 11K words

A one night stand in the time of zombies.

hoe to housewife pipeline by lanzhancore | rated E | 5K words

“You type fast,” Wei Ying murmurs, making a futile attempt at conversation while he waits for him to be done with… whatever. “Not to be pushy, but do you plan on fucking my ass anytime soon?”

or: wei ying has been thirsting after lan zhan for three slutty slutty years

can you feel it by lanzhancore | rated E | an instant classic

“What’s wrong?” Wei Ying asks finally, eyebrows drawn together. “Is everything okay?”

Thumbs stroking circles into his skin as if to comfort him, Lan Zhan says, “Don’t panic.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, sitting up on his elbows. “What did you do to my ass?”

“Nothing,” Lan Zhan says, convincing nobody. “But we need to go to the hospital.”

or: wei ying really should have sprung for the model with the flared base. he learns this lesson the hard way.

because you're mine (i walk the line) by lanzhancore | rated E | 8K words

Wei Ying is freshly cream-pied and still trying to remember where his legs are when Lan Zhan outlaws masturbation.

or: wei ying fucks around and finds out

payload by lanzhancore | rated M | 3K words | babysitter wwx + dilfji, what more could you need

Wei Ying has a whole five hours and thirty-six minutes to calm down but when he hears Lan Zhan’s key turning in the front door lock later that evening he has to cling to the couch cushions to keep from marching into the laundry room to retrieve the briefs so he can wave them in Lan Zhan’s face and demand to know who owns them.

or: lan zhan's self-restraint is not limitless

the to the brim series by verseau | rated E | 14K words total

Wei Ying wants to rob him, but it wouldn’t even be satisfying, since this guy is just—giving away money. With his nice fingers. Maybe Wei Ying will just bite his fingers, and that will give the same endorphin rush as robbing him. / a day told across five parts.

get that message home by verseau | rated G | 2K words | ohhhhhhhhh myyyyy godddddd 😭

Sizhui's father cannot haggle. It is a shame on Sizhui’s honor to have such an honest father.

Author's note [i'm including it here because it's golden]:

there is a scene in arrested development where lucille, who is on the opposite spectrum of humanity as lan zhan, asks, "it's a banana, michael. how much could one cost? ten dollars?" there are no bananas in this story.

dreaming and getting a glimmer by verseau | rated E | 27K words | a particular favorite of mine 🔥🍆💦🕳🔥

Wei Ying discovers himself.

trust your fingertips by plonk | not rated (but really rated E) | 15K word | 🥵️🥵️🥵️🥵️🥵️ plonk you’ve done it again!

Lan Wangji must suppress a shiver at every brush and press of Wei Wuxian’s fingers.

Under different circumstances - less public ones - he would welcome touch, given that his body is in such an aroused state.

Alas, his circumstances are these: sitting quietly while Wei Wuxian, the famous (infamous) Doctor of Yunmeng, digs his fingertips into Lan Wangji’s shoulders and chest and sides and hums thoughtfully.

Doctor, Doctor by YunmengLotus | rated E | 4K words | mmmmhmm!

Wei Ying needs to get a prostate exam. How ever will he deal when the world's hottest doctor walks through the exam room door and tells him to bend over?

TAKOYAKI by ariskamalt | rated E | 3K words | lan zhan gets jealous of his own damn appendages. meanwhile, wei ying is just having a good time.

Lan Zhan…cannot always feel or tell what his tentacles will do.

His free hand curls into a fist. Underneath his skin, the tentacles give a little squirm, as if aware of the challenge he has just issued them. No touching Wei Ying unless he says so, because he wants to touch Wei Ying first. They squirm again, as if to say, Tentacles: 1, Lan Zhan: 0.

That will just have to be remedied.

Or, as phnelt first described: Tentacle-ji with the semi autonomous tentacles getting jealous of his tenties for touching Wei Ying in places he hasn't yet

Outage by SugarMilkTea | rated E | 3K words | [cough] 😳😳😳

The power goes out in Lan Zhan and Wei Ying's rural home in the countryside. Lan Zhan takes advantage of the darkness to give in to one of his baser urges, and Wei Ying's first rural power outage experience is about to get a lot more interesting.

big hands (i know you’re the one) by martyrsdaughter | rated E | 8K words | NICE. 🔥🔥🔥

“Not a big talker, hm?” Wei Ying tilts his head to one side. “That’s okay, I’ve been told I’m a good enough conversationalist for three. My tongue is multi-talented and—”

He has just enough time to feel her palm on the back of his neck and think, oh, her hands are so big, before his words are being stolen into her mouth.

darling, am i a chore? by martyrsdaughter | rated E | 7K words

“Are you done playing around?”

Knowing that’s not what either of them actually wants, Wei Wuxian reaches up to tickle under Lan Wangji’s chin. Soft little scritches, coaxing motions—Lan Wangji is weak to all of them.

“You know what I want,” Wei Wuxian purrs, reaching up on his tiptoes to throw his arms over Lan Wangji’s shoulders. “Call me gege, won’t you? Call me and I’ll stop.”

(or: five times Lan Wangji paid special attention to Wei Wuxian’s interest in being his gege.)

put him on his knees, give him something to believe in by dustyloves | rated E | 2K words | if the title is quoting WAP, then you should know by now it’s gonna be some of that good filth

The next time Wei Ying kisses him, Lan Zhan is careful again. Wei Ying seems determined to make it very difficult.

the hard way by dustyloves | rated E | 9K words

"Anyway, you make it sound like something lewd is going on," Wei Ying complains. "It's all totally above board. She's just being a nice person. It's just one kind alpha grad student offering one room of her huge house to one beta undergrad in need, what could be more appropriate than that?"

// Wei Ying makes a mistake and finds out the hard way.

Exhibition by sevenless | rated E | 5K words

“Oh?” Wei Wuxian raises an eyebrow. “The forbidden section, Lan Zhan?”

“Mn.”

“You’re not afraid of being heard?” Wei Wuxian thinks aloud. A smirk creeps onto his face, eyes glinting. “Or could it be that Lan-er-gongzi actually wants to be heard? Seen? Caught?” He skips in front of him, blocking his way. "Disciplined?”

Lan Wangji’s ears, as always, betray him.

a history of the body by northofallmusic | rated E | 14K words

Wei Ying's body hurts sometimes; she lets Lan Zhan help her.

A fic about the complicated nature of having a body, and also the versatility of sex toys.

(our friendship) up against the ropes by daltoneering | rated E | 36K words

The reboot completes, and Wei Ying’s brain smashes this information together into two mind-shattering thoughts. Number one, he knew very well already, and is now further seared by defined muscles and a mouth-watering tattoo into his every waking moment: Lan Zhan is the hottest fucking person on the planet.

Number two: that guy wasn’t visiting Lan Zhan’s neighbour, he was visiting Lan Zhan, which means:

Lan Zhan fucks. Lan Zhan fucks. Lan Zhan fucks.

;

Lan Zhan has been Wei Ying's best friend for years. Literally, years. How did he not already know? How has he missed this most important of facts? And more importantly, how is he ever going to get over it?

watching my heart go round by typefortydeductions | rated E | 38K+ words | WIP (2/4 chapters, last updated 5/2/21) | lan zhan i love you baby 💞

Lan Zhan falls apart. As it turns out, that's not the end.

oh man this list is so long sd;jfkdsjfhhh

yati, i hope you find some stuff in this pile here that you’ll enjoy! it's not an exhaustive list, so check out the authors’ other works and bookmarks for more goods, if you feel so inclined 😙💕

#darlingbenny #mdzs #fic rec #nsfw!

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writer-k-pop · 4 years ago

Text

Behind The Scenes

오늘 투위터 봤어요? Have you looked at Twitter today?

Description: Being the youngest and newest member of BTS’s filming crew, you grow close to other crew members as well as the BTS members. Specifically, BTS’s maknae, Jeon Jungkook, because somehow you always get paired to film him. After a perfectly timed photo during a filming hits the internet, rumors and words fly around excessively. And Jungkook shows his worry for you. Warnings: Swearing, none Genre: FLUFF Word Count: 3.7k

BTS Masterlist | Masterlists

"The filming will begin once the members finish up with their makeup." Our director announces as we stand around him in an empty parking lot. "Audio team is here?" He asks and scattered hands raise in the air, "8, 9. Good. Cameras?" He moves onto the next department: mine

I raise my hand as the others on my team do the same.

"And you know who you're following?" Our director asks.

We go down the line and say the member we're filming for the day.

"V."

"Rm."

"Suga."

"Jin."

"Jimin."

"Hope."

"And our youngest," Rena pinches my cheek, "Is with Jungkook."

I bat away her hand with an eye roll. Since joining as the newest, and the youngest, the older team members have been teasing me about how cute we'd be together. Though I highly doubt it. I think they're just teasing me because I'm the newest and the youngest. Like it's my initiation ordeal. But every time we do some filming that needs each member to have a dedicated camera person with them (nearly every time), they always pair me with Jungkook.

At first it was a little awkward: he wouldn't talk to me cause I was new and I wouldn't talk to him cause I was new. It took a few filming schedules until we were able to have comfortable conversations.

"Alright, here they come." Our director announces, "Remember their safety as well as yours!"

We all give a cheer of excitement then break out to get our equipment and into our smaller groups. Each will have a camera staff, an audio staff, and another staff to direct the content.

"Wonder where Jungkook will pick." Hyunwoo wonders as he adjusts his audio equipment belt.

"I pray it's not in the old park." Yeonseok, our assigned staff, says and places his hands in a prayer pose.

"Knowing our luck, it'll be there." I joke while zipping the last extra battery in its pocket before picking up the camera.

"If it is, it's your fault." Yeonseok pokes my shoulder.

"Don't blame me!" I spit back, "Blame the one who actually chooses it."

"I could never blame Jungkook." Yeonseok shakes his head and places his hand over his heart.

"Yupp, you're definitely NOT whipped." Hyunwoo says sarcastically as we join the other staff members crowded behind the few standing cameras.

In front of the cameras, the seven members of BTS stand and wait for the cue to start their silliness for 'Run BTS.'

"Everyone quiet please!" The main director waves his hands and everyone ceases their conversations. "Camera, roll!"

"Wah, it's a really nice day." Hoseok comments, squinting up at the sun.

Jungkook and Jimin laugh at his random comment.

"Hyung, why are you so awkward today?" Taehyung giggles.

"It's not awkward." Jin comes to Hoseok's defense and throws an arm around his shoulders, "It is a nice day." He emphasizes nice and also looks up at the sun before slapping a hand over his burning eyes. "Ah, ah, ah, that hurts." This only makes the maknae line laugh harder.

"Alright, alright." Namjoon attempts to calm them down but Jungkook and Taehyung continue to giggle, "We all know why we're here, right?"

"Ah, yes." Yoongi nods slowly, "We were dropped off in this empty parking lot so we could get kidnapped." He deadpans.

From the staff, muffled chuckles can be heard and I have to press my fist to my mouth to keep the laughter in. Hoseok and Jin join the maknae line in loud laughter and Namjoon looks towards the director, his eyes pleading for help.

"Sorry, Joon-ah." Hoseok coughs out, trying to push the laughter aside. "We'll say it right. Ask the question again."

Namjoon claps his hands together and resets. "We all know why we're here, right?" He repeats his previous question.

"RUN BTS!" The other six members loudly scream towards the sky.

"Hyung, are you the MC today?" Jimin asks, gesturing towards the group's leader.

Namjoon shakes his head, "If I was, this show would be a disaster."

"No, I think you would do really well." Hoseok claps Namjoon's back in support.

"Thanks Hobi." Namjoon says and holds his hand out for a handshake. Only to be ignored. Again. "Anyway, today we're doing something different."

"We are?" Jin and Taehyung ask together with over emphasized curiousity.

"We are." Namjoon confirms. "Today, we'll each be on our own, completing missions to get a picture. Then we'll all meet up again and I think we have to line up the pictures in order. If we get the answer right, we get a prize. I think?" Namjoon finishes with an unsure ending.

"That's right." The main director nods then explains the game to the members in a shpeel that will be edited out later and replaced with written instructions on the screen. "Each member will randomly choose a location. At that location there will be four missions you have to complete. When you finish all four, you will be given a photo. After you receive the photo, you will all gather again and together will place the photos in the order that they were taken. If you succeed, each BTS member will be given a wish that they can use anytime within the next year."

"WOAH!" The members drop their mouths in awe.

"And we can ask for anything?" Jin asks.

The director nods, "As long as it pertains to this show, you can ask for anything."

"Can I ask to go home then?" Yoongi steps forward with a raised hand.

The director laughs, "You can but then you'd miss out on other prizes."

"Okay, so how do we know which location to go to?" Taehyung asks, his excitement shining through his eyes.

The director holds out a can with seven folded pieces of paper. Taehyung walks forward, grabs the can, and retreats back to his members.

"Who picks first?" He asks the group.

"Let's do rock, paper, scissors." Jin suggests, sticking a hand out.

"Not this game. I suck at this." Hoseok whines but sticks his hand out along with the rest.

"Winner gets to pick first." Jin announces.

They pick a piece of paper in this order: Hoseok, Jungkook, Namjoon, Jimin, Yoongi, Taehyung, then Jin.

"Should we reveal them one by one?" Jungkook suggests and the others nod. "Hoseok hyung first."

"Where am I going?" Hoseok teases then pops open his piece of paper. "The movie theatre?" He reads off his location with confusion.

"Ahhhhh, that would've been fun!" Taehyung whines.

"Jungkook, next." Jin gestures for the youngest to hurry up.

Jungkook opens his sheet and reads it out, "Cafe."

My fists clench in happiness that he didn't pick the outdoor location.

"Yah, that's a good one." Namjoon shakes his finger in Jungkook's direction but I can't make out if he's happy or disappointed. "I am going to the gym."

"I'm going to the park!" Jimin reads off his excitedly.

"Is it the old one we saw on our way here?" Jungkook asks the staff with bunny eyes. The director gives him a nod and Jungkook pouts. "Hyung, can we switch? Ah, I really wanted to go there!"

I narrow my eyes at the youngest and pray that the director won't let them switch places.

"No switching, Jungkook." Taehyung says and pulls the youngest away.

"Yoongi, Yoongi." Hoseok says the next member.

Yoongi slowly opens his paper but doesn't show the camera as he reads it. Then he suddenly starts screaming and jumping in happiness.

"What?" Taehyung asks.

"Where are you going, hyung?" Jimin asks, trying to take the paper away from him.

"THE DORM!" Yoongi screams happily and finally shows the cameras the piece of paper.

The other six members give sounds of disbelief and Jimin even walks towards us staff, asking if it's true.

While Yoongi happily bounces from foot to foot, Taehyung reveals his location.

"I'm going to the company." Taehyung announces before Jin swiftly opens his, the writing pointed towards the cameras and away from him.

"School?" Taehyung reads it out for him and Jin quickly flips the paper around to read it for himself.

"SCHOOL?" Jin repeats incredulously.

Yoongi bursts into laughter with Jungkook.

"Do you know how long it's been since I've been in school?!" Jin shrieks. "I have to go back?"

"Hyung, maybe they'll let you wear a school uniform." Hoseok laughs, leaning onto his shoulder.

Jin shakes Hoseok off and scoffs, "What are you talking about?"

"How long do we have?" Jimin asks the director while Hoseok and Jin giggle together about Jin's location.

"We'll give you 3 hours to finish your individual missions." The director said.

"Alright, let's go." Yoongi rushes the group, wanting to get to the dorm as quickly as possible. "Run!"

"BTS!" They all finish together.

I readjust the camera in my hands and wait for our small group to be joined with Jungkook.

"You lucky duck." Yeonseok nudges my arm.

"I prayed real hard." I smile as our team is called.

"Team Jungkook!" My director calls out.

I shuffle through the crowd behind my older male staff partners for the day.

"Yeonseok hyung!" Jungkook says happily as we make our way over, "Hyunwoo hyung!"

I peak out from behind the two and give an expecting smile for my greeting.

"(y/n)!" Jungkook snaps finger guns at me, "Woah, I got the dream team." As the car pulls up, Jungkook carries on conversation with the other two leaving me to fiddle with the camera and prepare to film. "How is Junsu hyung and the baby?"

"They're good." Yeonseok answers, "The kid is finally sleeping through the night."

"Makes him much easier to handle during the day." Hyunwoo jokes and juts a thumb at Yeonseok.

Jungkook chuckles, "I believe it."

"Yah, I'm older than you." Yeonseok scolds him and we all slid into the car: Yeonseok driving, Hyunwoo next to him and Jungkook and I in the middle seats.

"What do I have to do to there?" Jungkook asks while putting on his seatbelt and I do the same.

I shrug.

"How do you not know?" Jungkook asks me.

"Oh, I know. I'm just not allowed to tell you." I smirk.

"Oh come on, please." He drags out the 'please' but I shake my head as Hyunwoo wags a finger at him.

"No can do kiddo." Hyunwoo says, "We wanna keep our jobs."

Jungkook pouts and crosses his arms over his chest, "No fair."

I snort at his behavior, "Your a member of the world's biggest boy band and you're pouting over not being able to cheat."

Jungkook tsks, "If it were Jin hyung, you guys would've told him."

I raise my eyebrows at him, "I wouldn't. But Yeonseok might."

"Oi!" Yeonseok looks at me through the rearview mirror, "I would not."

"Sure." Jungkook and I say at the same time with the same unbelieving tone.

A few minutes later, Yeonseok parks the car in front of the cafe that we had rented out for the day.

"Hold on." I tell Jungkook as he reaches for the door.

"Why?" Jungkook looked at me like I'm crazy for not letting him out.

I roll my eyes, "Just wait until I get to the other side. I don't exactly want to film your butt." Without waiting for his response, I exit the car on my side and quickly jog around to Jungkook's side.

When I'm in my spot, Jungkook then opens his door and ducks out of the car.

"I go inside?" He throws an innocent look to Yeonseok who nods. So we walk inside with me walking backwards with the camera focused on Jungkook.

As we step inside, the cafe music fills my ears and the atmosphere turns cozy in a second.

"What's my first mission?" He asks, the desire to finish first before all of his members burns in his eyes.

Yeonseok hands Jungkook a piece of paper which he opens, reads, then shows the camera. I make sure to get a clear shot of the writing as he reads it aloud.

"Choose four drinks from the menu and make them." Jungkook says. "I have to, like am I actually supposed to get behind the counter and make them?" He points to the space behind the counter. Yeonseok, Hyunwoo, and I all nod our heads. After a few schedules with rolling cameras, I learned that I need to suppress the laughter I get from Jungkook's surprise. My amusement growing at his adorable bewilderment.

"Well, okay. Do I get to choose the drinks?" Jungkook questions and turns towards the menu. Yeonseok nods when Jungkook glances back.

"I have to make four?" Jungkook sighs, "Mmm, well, if we're going to drink them, then I should choose drinks that we'll like." He reasons. "So, for the PD hyungs I think I'll make Iced Americanos." Jungkook looks to them for approval which they give. "For camera PD, I will make a strawberry lemonade?" He raises his eyebrows looking for my response. I smile and nod, my heart skipping a few beats. "And for myself, I'm gonna make, ooh, a hot chocolate. Yeah, that sounds great."

Jungkook nods in determination. "Alright, let's do this." He walks around the counter and finds an apron and a book on how to make all the drinks on the menu.

"Of course you would give me a book." Jungkook smirks at Yeonseok while tying the apron around his waist, "Otherwise your drinks would've been terrible."

He laughs at himself and begins working on the two americanos. I move around the counter and capture Jungkook fumbling around with the espresso machine.

"Is this how it works?" He mumbles and glances up to me for help. I shrug my shoulders cause I honestly have no idea how to work that kind of machine.

Jungkook sighs staring at the espresso tamper in his hands, "I know we did an episode with this. Why can't I remember?" He looks underneath and fiddles some more before slowly but successfully attaches the tamper to the machine. "Success!" He smiles happily then the smile drops, "Now which button do I press?"

I suppress a laugh but Jungkook hears my snicker as he fills two plastic cups with ice.

"Don't you laugh at me!" He turns and pouts at me. "You're laughing."

I shake my head with a smile of innocence as I can't make a sound while recording.

Jungkook turns back to the machine and reads all the buttons until he finds what he thinks is the right one which frankly, I would've picked the same one. In about a minute, the two little cups below the tampers fill with the warm dark goodness of espresso. When the final little droplets fall into the cups, Jungkook takes each and pours them into the plastic cups. Then he pours water in till the cup is full.

As he pops the lids on and sticks straws into them, I can't help but admire him through the camera feed.

"Next up, strawberry lemonade." Jungkook sing songs turning around to find the right ingredients.

20 minutes later, Jungkook sits across from me at a table and I sip on the lovely strawberry lemonade that Jungkook made me.

"What's my next mission?" Jungkook asks, setting down his nearly half finished mug.

Yeonseok slides over a piece of paper from the next table. Jungkook picks up the paper, reads it and begins his second mission.

*The next day*

"You haven't looked at Twitter, have you?" Yeonseok ambushes me as soon as I step into the building.

I glance around, slightly nervous, "No, I woke up late and rushed here."

Yeonseok sighs deeply, "Thank goodness."

"Why?" I ask as he drags me further into the building.

"Because." Yeonseok says vaguely.

"Because?" I repeat, hanging onto the word.

"Because..." Yeonseok glances around and I do the same, finding some stares being directed at us. "There's a rumor."

"Stop being vague!" I exclaim and pull my arm away.

"Someone took a picture of us filming at the cafe yesterday." Yeonseok explains.

"Okay? What's so big about that? They do that all the time." I explain.

"Yeah, but this time, the picture was perfectly angled so Hyunwoo and I were hidden and your camera is hidden by one of the pillars inside so.." Yeonseok trails off as I pick up on where the sentence is leading.

"It looks like we were on a date." I sigh, closing my eyes. "Is it bad?"

Yeonseok tilts his head to the side, "I mean not the worst things that have been thrown around..."

"But still pretty bad." I finish for him.

"Yeah." Yeonseok confirms.

I shrug, ignoring the dull pain of wishful thinking in my chest, "It's not like we've never had to go through something like this in the past."

"Yeah but you should really stay off the internet for a day or so." Yeonseok advices as we reach our large office space.

I nod slowly, "Okay, I won't." Setting down my bags, I sit at my computer and start opening on emails for the day.

"You promise?" Hyunwoo pops his over the cubicle walls.

I smile at his concern, "I promise. Why do you care though? I can handle myself."

"We know you can." Hyunwoo responds, "But you're still the youngest and like our little sister so we gotta protect you."

"Or at least try to." Yeonseok adds on.

I chuckle, "Well, thank you. I'm assuming upstairs is denying it?" I point upwards.

"Writing the denial letter as we speak." Hyunwoo snaps his fingers.

"This way?" Jungkook's voice echos down the hall.

I scrunch my eyebrows and Hyunwoo, Yeonseok, and I all lean back in our chairs wondering why he's up here.

Within seconds, Jungkook appears in the office space, his eyes searching a bit frantically.

"(y/n)." Jungkook says my name which shocks not only me, but Yeonseok and Hyunwoo as well.

I give him a small wave and a confused smile. Jungkook smiles and quickly walks over.

"Are you okay?" He asks me.

Yeonseok and Hyunwoo snicker but lean closer to their computers. I internally roll my eyes at them.

"I'm okay. Are you okay?" I answer and return the question.

"I'm okay now." Jungkook says, now a little shy.

"Now?" I ask.

"Well, I sort of saw Twitter this morning and I was a little worried." He answers.

I'm sure the evidence of surprise is clear on my face because he spits out more explanations.

"I, I mean I know you're new and haven't really been around this industry much and I didn't know how you would take it." Jungkook stutters, "And, and I worried because you were the one in the photo with me and I know people can be really nasty. Especially when we’re involved." He finishes quietly with a scratch to the back of his neck.

I squint cause I think I see a little blush tint his cheeks.

"Thank you for the concern." I tell him with honesty and I’m a little touched. "Is that why you came up here?" I ask.

Jungkook chuckles, "Yeah."

I smile, "Well, thank you. I appreciate it."

"Great." Jungkook claps his hands and then starts to get antsy, "Well, I'm gonna head back downstairs."

"(y/n)!" Hyunwoo quickly stands up, startling both Jungkook and I, "Walk him out. He could get lost up here."

"Yeah, we don't want Jungkook getting lost up here." Yeonseok agrees.

"Hyung." Jungkook drags out the word while I give them a pleading look. "I can find my way out."

"You didn't even know how to get here." Hyunwoo argues with the older brother smart-ass tone.

Jungkook opens his mouth to respond but his voice is nonexistent. I try to choke back a laugh but it comes out anyway.

"Hey, don't you even start." Yeonseok points a finger at me, "You're so much worse."

"Am not!" I defend myself, standing and crossing my arms.

"Are too." Hyunwoo agrees.

"Am not." I say in disbelief.

"Actually, you kind of are." Jungkook comments.

I raise my arm to slap his arm but hesitate, unable to finish the move. Jungkook, on the other hand, simply sticks his tongue out at me.

"Mature." I roll my eyes and lower my arm.

"Mature enough to ask you out?" Jungkook suddenly asks with a smirk.

My entire body freezes and the air dissipates from my lungs. The air around us also stales in an instance. Even Yeonseok and Hyunwoo are stunned into silence. In my ears, my heart starts to pound and my cheeks heat up. I can't believe the words I had just heard.

"I..." Jungkook clear his throat, "I said that out loud..."

I blink to break out of my thoughts and reset myself. "I'll, uh, I'll walk you out." I smile, trying to ignore what just happened but I don't think I did it well.

Jungkook wordlessly nods and follows me out of the office space. Neither of us say a word to each other until we're way past the office space.

"I apologize for earlier." Jungkook basically whispers.

I shake my head, "No, no need to apologize. It's okay."

"I really didn't mean to say it." Jungkook continues to explain. "I was actually worried this morning and I guess it was still running through my head and then it just happened. I guess."

I suppress a smile and look down to the ground, "It was a little shocking." I admit, "But I can't say it isn't one-sided."

That stops Jungkook in his tracks. I notice a few steps ahead and stop to turn and face him. His eyes are wide in disbelief and his arms hang loosely by his sides.

He stutters out jargon then clears his throat. Jungkook looks up with hope in his eyes, "Then, (y/n), can I take you out for dinner."

A smile grows on my face and my cheeks heat up ever so slightly, "Yes, you can."

Jungkook smiles widely and begins walking next to me again. My heart flutters happily and excitement grows in the pit of my stomach. As we walk, his shoulder brushes against mine and goosebumps erupt down my arms.

Sometimes rumors stay rumors. Other times they become reality.

#kpop #bts #bts imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook imagine #jungkook

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deiliamedlini · 4 years ago

Text

WIP Wednesday

This is a piece of a long oneshot I was working on that I actually just went back to so I could change the era this took place in to use for something else! So this is is the modern meeting of small-town Link and big-city-moving-to-small-town-for-work Zelda.

I might still go back to this one specifically, especially since most of this info can’t transfer to the earlier era I’m changing it to. I also haven’t edited it, since I’m just in the process of hijacking bits and pieces, so please excuse my dear Aunt Sally. No, wait... that’s not writing...

~~~~

“I just can’t believe they sent me here,” Zelda said into her phone. It was tucked between her cheek and her shoulder as she drove down a dirt road. On one side, there was farmland: an extensive few acres of it, from what she could tell. On her other side, trees.

Zelda loved trees. She did! They were a big part of her job, and she had nothing against them. But goddess above, she’d never seen so many trees in her life. Glancing at the clock, she realized that she’d been surrounded by trees for nearly an hour now, overwhelmed by the sight.

A city girl through and through, her entire life had been spent in the bustle of Castle Town: the largest, busiest, most innovative and thriving city in all of Hyrule. She’d gone to the best schools there, and worked at an exclusive corporation.

But they needed her to go somewhere else.

For the sake of the research, she reminded herself as she tried to focus on the phone and not all the trees. Or the mountains that replaced skyscrapers and castles. Or the farms that replaced parks and streets.

On the other end of the receiver were two voices. One was Midna, Zelda’s best friend. The other was Tetra, her older sister. The three of them together were incredibly close, and Midna had even offered to uproot her own life to join Zelda on this rural adventure. But Zelda had told her to hold down the fort; this move wasn’t permanent, and she’d be joining Midna back in their three-bedroom apartment that they all had shared in the heart of Castle Town.

“Are you almost there?” Midna asked, loudly typing something into her computer.

“She’s got to be,” Tetra muttered.

“I think I am.” Zelda looked around, but there were only… more trees. Shocker. “If the moving truck could find this place, then so can I.”

“Does she start work tomorrow?” Tetra asked, clearly directed at Midna.

“No,” Zelda answered for her. “I start Monday. They’re going to send me all the information ‘once I get settled.’”

“At least you know how much they value you,” Midna tried, but it was clearly a forced compliment and a poor attempt to make Zelda feel any better about taking this position. But really, when her boss asked her to take on a special assignment, one that paid double her old salary, she couldn’t resist, no matter how uprooted her life became.

“I know, but it’s—”

Suddenly, there was more than just trees.

A goat stepped into the road, much faster than Zelda ever thought goat could move. She dropped the phone, let out a high-pitched noise of absolute panic, and swerved around the goat. But she swerved off the dirt path, heard a thud, felt the car shake, and immediately slammed the breaks, rearing forward into the steering wheel.

“Sweet Goddess Hylia and all things holy!” she hissed, breathing heavily. Her chest hurt where she’d bounced into the wheel, but it hadn’t nearly been hard enough to cause the airbags to deploy.

Quickly putting the car in park, she shakily unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped outside, shaking out her hands and letting out some nerves before reaching into the car to grab the fallen phone.

“I’m okay,” she said quickly, brushing her hair from her face. “I almost hit a goat.”

“Goddess!” they both breathed. “We thought you were dead! My heart, Zelda!”

“I know, I’m sorry! Look, I hit something. I don’t see any dead animals in the road, but I’m going to hang up so I can look. I’ll call you later.”

The three of them were notorious for never saying ‘goodbye’ on the phone. Really, they didn’t do it in real life either. Even when Zelda left, the last thing Tetra had said was ‘I’ll come up to visit real soon’, and Midna had said, ‘find me a hottie, or some other excuse to move up there with you.’

So, Zelda hung up with just a promise to call them back, and she hurried down the road to where she’d heard the thud.

It didn’t take much investigating to figure out what had happened: there was a broken fence, splintered and thrown wildly around the area after her apparent impact with it, and a frayed rope on the ground. And a sign that said “fence broken”. Helpful.

Zelda glanced back at the goat, unmoved by anything that had just occurred. It was meandering through the road, boredly exploring an area that it didn’t seem interested in. Perhaps the trees felt familiar to it.

Zelda groaned and took a picture of the fence before trying to get the internet on her phone so she could look up the local police number to report that she’d damaged property.

No internet connection.

“Great,” she muttered, turning to take a picture of the goat before it could move. Then, she headed back to her car, just to make sure there was no innocent animal underneath. She flipped the flashlight on and ducked down.

Zelda groaned, but not because there was a dead animal. No, it wasn’t an animal that was dead; it was her tire. There was a giant piece of the broken fence impaled into the rubber, and thanks to her rolling a few feet away, it was in there good.

“Of course. Of course!” Zelda yelled into the abyss, not even earning a curious glance from the goat.

Grabbing her phone, she was blinded by the light she’d left on and turned it around so she could look up the tow company immediately but was met by the same message. No internet connection.

Rolling her eyes, she scrolled to Midna’s name and pressed call.

Silence. Not even ringing.

Zelda checked the corner of the screen, struck first by her red battery life, and second by the device bars desperately looking for a connection.

“I was just talking to them!” she yelled at the phone, as if it cared that she’d had service moments ago. It gave her the urge to throw the phone, but she wasn’t that angry yet.

Instead, she turned her camera on, took a picture of her impaled tire in case the insurance company would need it, and then took several pictures of the goat just for fun, praying that it didn’t charge at her or whatever goats did.

She continued observing the goat without anything else to do until a car headed down the road. She stood and began to wave her arms wildly, but the car drove right past her.

“Jerk,” she muttered, pushing her hair back and returning to sit. But it wasn’t long until a pickup truck slowed down before she could even get back out of the car. She breathed a sigh of relief when they stopped and rolled down the window.

“Everything alright, Miss?”

“Not really,” she sighed, looking at her car sympathetically. She gestured to her tire.

“Got a spare? I got a jack if you need it.”

His voice was accented with the local dialect, which made her feel a little at ease. At least this was someone who’s likely be familiar with the area and could tell her how far away she was.

She had to admit, she’d spoken to one of her coworkers on the phone and had also become enamored with her accent, though it wasn’t from around here either. Zelda had a feeling she was just a sucker for anything that wasn’t the harsh poshness of the Castle Town accent, where every letter pronounced, every syllable attempting to be heard. It was a hard accent, and a cold one. The ones around here was warm and inviting.

Of course, it would make her stick out anytime she opened her mouth, which she didn’t really want.

Castle Town was posh, for sure. A town for the rich and the well-off, or those in school or at work. So Zelda knew a thing or two about stranger danger, and the deeply rooted nerves she felt when she saw the man unbuckle his seatbelt from her peripheral vision bubbled up. She had an escape route planned: toward the broken fence. She wasn’t being kidnapped on her first day in town. But he didn’t get out. He just leaned across the seat to the open window.

Finally, she looked at him, and her breath caught. Well, he certainty matched his voice. Something tired and alert all at once. His blonde hair was long and tied back into a ponytail, falling out in the front so his bangs messily framed his face, bringing her attention to his piercing blue eyes.

Oh yeah, this was the kind of guy they warned you about in Castle Town. Too pretty for their own good. She’d have talked to him in a crowded bar for sure. But out here…?

She glanced back at her car, breaking her distracted trance, trying to remember what he’d asked. “Oh, uh, no. I took everything out of the car to fit my things. I figured I’d take my chances for not getting a flat, but surprise, surprise, a goat wants me dead.”

“Where you going? I can give you a lift if you want. You can get Daruk out here tomorrow morning to tow it wherever you need to go.”

“Oh,” she breathed. Don’t get into a car with someone you just met unless someone knows who they are or where you’re going. “Yeah, I was actually just going to ask if I could borrow your phone? Mine isn’t getting service. I can just call my tow company that I’m enrolled with.”

He nodded and reached across his passenger seat before handing her a phone out the window. She half expected it to be something old and rustic, like this whole place, but it was new and modern and almost exactly like hers. She’d just assumed the small town didn’t have the newest phones. What a stupid assumption.

“Mind if I just look up their number first?” she asked before randomly clicking around on a strange man’s phone.

“Go for it.”

She did and listened to all the automated options. The man was bobbing his head to some music she couldn’t hear. A car came down the road, stopping and honking, despite the fact that they could clearly go around him.

The man rolled his eyes and backed into the breakdown lane behind Zelda’s car, though she was thankful he still didn’t get out

It was only when Zelda’s eyes widened in either shock or horror at whatever she’d heard over the phone that he leaned his head back out the window curiously.

She walked up to him and handed the phone back. “Thanks.”

“So?”

“Three hours to get out here.” Zelda’s misery was palpable.

“Where are you going, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Some little village called Ordon”

He smirked and leaned back in his seat. “I’m headed there as well. Want a ride? We can get Daruk out here sooner to just tow your car in if he knows he’ll just be headed back into town. It’s not far.”

“Oh, I don’t know… not that I don’t appreciate it, but I don’t know you.”

He reached his hand out the window. “Link. I live in Ordon. Work too. Nice to meet you”

“Zelda,” she said, taking his hand.

“Here,” he said, pulling out his wallet and handing her a business card. “So you don’t think I’m lying. But I do have to get to work at some point, so if you want that ride…”

“I just don’t want you to be a kidnapping murderer and kill me, you know?”

He grinned, suppressing a chuckle.

Zelda crossed her arms. “Don’t laugh at my potential murder.”

Gesturing to his phone still in her hand. “You can keep that with you the whole ride so you can call the cops on me if you think I’m kidnapping you.”

Toying with the phone, she took another look at her car. “Okay. Just let me grab my bag.”

#wip wednesday #link #zelda #zelink #legend of zelda #modern au #flat tire trope #goat #and by goat I don't mean greatest of all time but literally a goat

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avengerscompound · 4 years ago

Text

It’s You and Me - Chapter 9

It’s You and Me: A Hawkeye Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x F!Reader

Word Count: 1556

Rating: E

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse

Synopsis: You and Clint Barton go way back. Since you joined the circus as a child, he took it upon himself to keep you away from the people who really wanted to hurt you. For years the two of you danced a line between dark and light.

When he chooses light the two of you go your separate ways.

Fifteen years later he tracks you down. Those feelings the two of you shared never went away, but now he is not only an Avengers but a single father. Can the two of you make it work after all this time when your lives have gone in such different directions?

A series told in flashbacks and current day.

Chapter 10: Now

You had fallen into a slightly uneasy truce with yourself. The part of you that had been adamant that you not fuck up any kids’ lives had been soothed down by the part that was really enjoying being back with Clint again. Some things made it easier to compartmentalize. Children weren't by default terrible and the problem you had was never hating kids. It was hating your childhood. Besides, if there were any kids you were going to love instantly it would be Clint’s. Maybe it was never going to be in a motherly way, but they were his and you loved him.

Clint seemed to be making sure you never got put into the parenting role. You were never the babysitter or decision-maker when it came to things they should or shouldn’t be doing. If they wanted to go out for ice cream he’d decide if they could on his own and then ask if you wanted to as well, instead of asking you what you thought about the idea. That made things easier too. It meant you could avoid the step-mother role even if it did occasionally haunt you.

Cooper, Lila, and Nate seemed to take to you dating their father pretty well. They were good kids generally speaking, but the concern that they might see you as a step-mother worried you. The two older two definitely seemed to treat you as an entity in the house that they needed to be aware of. They didn’t come to you to ask for things, but they didn’t straight up ignore you. They’d say good morning when they saw you first thing and goodnight when they went to bed. If they were getting themselves a snack they might ask if you wanted some and they’d make general conversation about music or tv shows with you. However, it wasn't the same level of excitement as when they were with Natasha Romanoff, who they were very close with, or the same level of deference when Ebony was in the room. You hoped that didn’t mean they resented you, or they thought you didn’t like them.

Nate, however, seemed to be completely different. He’d seek you out more and want to share things with you, like what his favorite toys were or the pictures he’d drawn. He’d come and sit on the couch with you and flop himself against you. It was a little scary considering how you felt about everything.

Clint kept pushing for you to join the Avengers, taking you to the Tower and ‘randomly’ having you bump into people who would then lecture you about using your abilities for good. It had the opposite effect than desired. The longer the lecture went the less you wanted to be subjected to further lectures about anything ever again. You still kept going in - partially because it was funny to see how frustrated Clint was when you’d say no, but mostly because now you were burned, you were very interested to see where this data you’d helped steal went. Not that they’d tell you anything. You weren’t an Avenger, so you weren’t privy to that kind of information. It seemed to have something to do with the circus people, and you were curious to know why none of them had approached you about their underground dealings.

That was all for weekdays though - unless it was the end of the world, Clint was home on weekends. That didn’t mean you were free from him trying to recruit you.

“So you’re just not gonna get a job?” He asked. He was sitting beside you on the couch with Lila sitting in front of him while he put her hair in a halo braid. There were some half-formed plans about going out in the afternoon, but everyone was just taking their time. You were eating cereal despite it being 11.30, Cooper was still in his pajamas, and Nate was hanging upside off the side of the couch with only his underwear, a t-shirt, and one sock on.

“Maybe I already have a job,” you teased and he looked at you with his eyes narrowed.

“You don’t, do you?” he asked.

“No. I don’t,” you agreed.

“The Avengers have really good medical, and a great 401K,” he said.

“Yeah because no one ever lasts long enough to cash out,” you snarked.

“She doesn’t have to be an Avenger if she doesn’t want to dad,” Lila said.

“Yeah, Clint,” you agreed. “Listen to your daughter.”

“Gee, thanks for your help, Li,” he teased. “You should see her though, she can shoot an arrow while doing a handstand while riding a horse.”

“You can do that,” Lila said, sounding bored.

“Wow,” you deadpanned. “Ruined the only cool thing I can do with your over achievement. Thanks, Clint.”

He pulled a face at you and was just about to say something when his phone rang. He stuck a bobby pin in Lila’s hair to hold it in place as he answered. “Yeah? - No, but I can’t… Fuck! … Are you shitting me right now? Ebony is off today. I think she went… no, I get it. Yeah. Okay.”

He hung up the phone and got up. “Gotta go in. Can you watch them? It’s an emergency.”

“What? But Clint…” You argued.

“Dad, you haven’t finished my hair!” Lila yelped.

“You can finish it, right?” Clint said to you as he grabbed his keys and tried to evade Lucky who was now dancing around his feet.

“Clint!” You yelped.

“You know I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t have to,” he said and kissed Lila on the top of the head and then you, before blowing a raspberry on Nate’s tummy. The little boy squealed and fell off the chair in a heap. “Thanks, sugar. I’ll owe you one.”

“The biggest one ever!” You shouted as he ducked out the door.

Lila sighed and started to unwind her hair.

“I can do it,” you said.

She rolled her eyes. “You sounded really excited about the idea.”

You flinched. “I’m sorry… it’s not… I’m not… I can do your hair.”

She looked at you like she was trying to get a read on you. “We don’t want you to be our mom either you know?”

“Lila!” Cooper scolded.

You ran your hand down your face. “I know. I know… that’s… that’s part of the reason I’ve been the way I’ve been. I don’t not like you guys. If anything it’s because I like you a lot and I hate that you lost your mom. But I don’t want you to think I’m trying to be your mom or take her place.”

“Well, good,” Lila said. “We don’t want that either.”

“You want me to do your hair and I’ll be real with you?” You asked.

She nodded and moved into position. “So here’s the thing,” you said, as you started taking up where Clint had left off. “Me and your dad… we had pretty crappy childhoods. The people who were supposed to care for us - they hurt us instead. And I guess… your dad decided that when he grew up he’d have a family and make sure they never got hurt the way he was. But I decided that I didn’t want to risk ruining any kids' lives. We ended up breaking up and going our own separate paths and they went just like that. I never had a family and he got married and got you guys. But now we’re back in each other's lives and I care about your dad. I always have. And I am really scared that that’s gonna mean you guys get hurt and I’ve been trying really hard to just… let you be so it won’t be me that hurts you.”

“You really never wanted kids?” Cooper asked.

You shook your head. “Not because I don’t like them though. I think you guys are awesome.”

“You can be our friend if you like? We have a mom. She might have died but she was still our mom. But we also have an Auntie Nat and an Auntie Wanda and an Auntie Kate and an Ebony. You can just be whoever you are,” Cooper suggested.

You smiled and laughed softly. “You’re pretty smart, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Cooper joked.

“Friends then?” You asked.

“Yeah, friends,” he said.

Lila nodded.

“Okay, but here’s the thing,” you said. “There’s a thing that friends have that adults in charge don’t. You’re allowed to tell me off. Okay? If I overstep, or I do something that upsets you, you can tell me. I won’t be mad and because friends can’t punish each other the way your dad can. Right?”

Lila turned her head and looked at you. “Right. Okay.”

“I’m sorry I’m dating your dad,” you said lamely.

She laughed. “No, you aren’t. But that’s okay. He… it’s been a while since he’s not just been faking being happy.”

You smiled and went back to fixing her hair.

“You should tell us about the criminal stuff you’ve been doing if we’re friends,” Cooper said.

You started laughing. “I’m sure your dad would love it if I told you about that.”

“Come on,” Cooper begged. “You said we have to tell each other stuff.”

You laughed harder and shook your head. “Okay… where should I start?”

// NEXT

#clint barton #clint barton x reader #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #it's you and me

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satashiiwrites · 3 years ago

Note

📓 - Pairing of your choice!

Hm. I’m going to go with the MReyder one I think you would prolly enjoy this fic if I ever get around to it @radio-chatter. I may have mentioned it before. Cut for length and well… i went searching for MReyder pics…and well porny stuff.

Scott thinks he messed up with being snarky and is kicking himself for days. In the meantime he has a family dinner with his parents and Sara. Alec is in charge of a unit that looks into mafia/gang/cartel stuff—major rico cases etc. He also happens to coincidently (and secretly) be Reyes’ boss.

It takes Reyes a few days but he manages to tail Scott and his team to their usual post-shift greasy spoon 24 hour diner. He hides in the corner booth and then pays for Scott’s breakfast—asking that the waitress give Scott a napkin with his phone number on it.

Scott’s head snaps up from the napkin with the number written on it just to see Reyes smirk at him and wink as he leaves the diner. He scrambles to try and catch Reyes, tripping over Liam, but by the time he gets outside Reyes is nowhere to be found (he’s really watching from just around the corner where he left his motorcycle).

Scott goes home and stares at the number. It takes him another two days to finally text Reyes.

Reyes replies immediately and Scott is caught—hook line and sinker.

They don’t meet up immediately. They banter back and forth over the course of several weeks, learning things about each other. Family. Preferences on media consumption. Food choices. Humor.

He asks for Scott to wait but understands if he wont.

Scott takes an hour to reply. I’ll wait for you.

(Think this picture with a cut art-deco glass tumbler of whiskey in hand)

Scott makes a beeline for Reyes and makes it to him just in time for Reyes to pull him close and whisper in his ear “play along” before Sloane Kelly swoops down to interrogate Reyes.

“Reyes—who’s your friend?” She asks, her perfectly manicured nails digging into his arm.

Scott tries to ask wtf but Reyes pushes his finger against his mouth and hisses, “not here” and pulls him towards the bar storage room.

Checking the door again, Reyes inclines his head towards the back and Scott lets himself be led deeper into the storage area. “I’m a cop—Organized Crime Unit. You need to leave Scott.”

“You’re Shena.”

Reyes is spooked and shushes Scott. There is noise from outside the room. “You need to leave—now.”

Scott refuses. “No—I’m not leaving you here. You need to—“

“You need to leave. Now mi vida!” Reyes is on the verge of panicking and more noise is coming from outside.

Scott knows that Sloane knows they’re back here. There really is only one reason why Reyes would have pulled him in here that won’t rouse suspicion. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you—“

Whatever else Reyes was about to say was cut off by Scott pressing him into the stacks of boxed liquor behind until he’s reclined. Scott is busy, kissing and working Reyes’ belt off. Reyes is half clinging to him and half trying to push him away and he won’t be put off. He needs to do this.

“Trust me babe,” he says before biting down Reyes’ neck and tugging the buttons of his shirt open. Soon he’s on his knees and has Reyes’ pants open. Reyes can only watch spellbound, groaning in encouragement as Scott swallows him down, one hand buried in Scott’s hair and the other gripping his neck.

Scott would have preferred they actually have dinner together first but he can’t say he hasn’t been thinking about doing this to Reyes since that first picture he’d sent.

Someone tries to get their attention, clearing their throat. Scott ignores them and Reyes has let his eyes slide to bare slits, his hands guiding Scott up and down in enjoyment.

They must be pretty damn believable because whoever they are leave after a moment.

Scott doesn’t let Reyes pull him off. He speeds up and applies more suction. When he pulls back to breathe his voice is rough and he tells Reyes to come down his throat then deep throat’s him.

Reyes doesn’t last and he’s pretty out of it for thirty seconds before the danger they’re in shakes him out of it. Scott is pretty damn pleased with himself.

This is of course when the raid takes place. Reyes springs into action—telling Scott to hide in the back of the boxes and not come out. “I’m going to be arrested with the rest as part of my cover. You need to get out of here—they’re going to probably need you to call someone to pick you up. Wait until I get in touch.”

Reyes goes out to join the fray leaving Scott to crouch behind the crates.

Scott is torn between embarrassment and annoyance when it’s his own father that finds him once things have settled down.

“Scott what are you doing here?” Alec thunders, worriedly checking his son over.

“I’m fine,” Scott insists. “Where’s��“

Scott gets not another word in edgewise as Alec reads him the riot act then abruptly stops when he notices the marks Reyes’ hand left when he’d griped when he came. “You will go straight home.”

“Sure,” Scott huffs.

He does go home. It takes four days for him to get a text from Reyes asking him to meet at a coffee shop around the corner from his Dad’s office.

Reyes is waiting, Scott’s usual coffee order in front of him. He’s dressed casually in a grey jacket and tshirt—no suit to be seen. He’s nervous a bit but visibly brightens the moment Scott enters.

They have their real first date over coffee. Reyes apologizes—or tries to—for not telling Scott everything but Scott explains he maybe knows a bit too much. They slide into conversation with each other like they’ve known one another for decades, hands tangling on next to the coffee cups. they end up getting dinner and then Scott invites Reyes in for a nightcap after.

Reyes never goes home again—or rather Scott’s place becomes their place. Reyes had put everything into storage before going undercover and hasn’t had time yet to find a new place.

When Scott invites Reyes to Sunday family dinner—because he needs backup—Alec Ryder takes one look at Reyes as Scott’s date and falls over laughing. Scott has crossed his arms over his chest and put himself protectively between a pale Reyes (who hadn’t connected the dots about who Scott’s dad was) and his father who’s seemingly lost his mind.

Alec finally stops laughing long enough to give Scott crap about how he’d tried to set him up with Reyes eighteen months ago before he’d assigned him to deep cover.

#Mreyder #replies

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dirtykpopsnaps · 4 years ago

Text

And His Name is Kim Namjoon — Kim Namjoon (soulmate au)

Warnings: none

Contains: Cute soulmates!Namjoon and Y/N meeting for the first time

Requested: no

Words: 6, 906 (a little less than Tae’s but, still...wow...😳😅)

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I open the door to my small apartment and step inside, sighing to myself. “Finally home,” I mutter. Today was a long day at work and it was very tiresome. All I want to do is sit down and relax for a little bit. Destress from work and not think about anything relating to teaching until Monday. I set my bag down near the door and promise to myself that I’ll unpack it after my shower.

Dragging my feet slightly from exhaustion, I make my way through the small apartment and into my bedroom. The door to the attached bathroom is open and I head right inside, turning on the light. Calmly, I strip off my clothes and set them on the floor. However, before I strip off my bra and underwear, I look in the mirror. I chuckle lightly, looking at my body in the mirror. “Well...he’s done it again,” I chuckle. My whole body is littered with small cuts, scrapes, and bruises. Those are normal and they just randomly appear on my body. On my hand, a new minor burn has appeared just at the edge of my hand.

See, I’m used to all of the cuts and bruises at this point. It’s my soulmate attachment, an injury attachment. I’ve always been pretty careful and rarely get cuts and bruises of my own. My soulmate, on the other hand, seems to be a complete klutz. It seems like I’m getting a new cut or bruise every other day. Although I don’t feel the pain that comes with them, I can almost always tell when something has happened to him. There’s a soft tingling on that specific part of my body and then...there it is. Like magic, the new injury appears. At this point, I’m surprised most people don’t think I beat myself up.

Shaking my head at his apparent clumsiness, I strip off my last bit of clothing and head into the warm escape of the shower. The hot water soothes the aches of my body that I get from running after elementary schoolers every day. I run the soap over the cuts and bruises on my body, knowing that the soap won’t sting. Although I don’t feel the sting, soulmate might and I mentally remind myself to apologize to them when I finally do meet them.

When I finish my shower, I dry myself off with a fluffy towel and change into some soft pajamas. Before I leave the bedroom, I head back into the bathroom. Without thinking much about it, I walk to the sink and turn on the cold water. I give it a few seconds to get cold enough then run the water over the new burn on my hand. Although I can’t feel the effects of the burn, I know that my soulmate does and this will be helpful. When I’m done running the cold water over the burn, I open my medicine cabinet and pull the big tub of aloe vera gel off the top shelf. I apply a thin layer of the aloe over the burn and close the tub again, putting it away.

To be honest, this is something that I’ve gotten into the habit of doing. I’m not sure if he can feel me taking care of the injuries or not, but I hope he does. I really hope that I’m able to help him a little bit until I finally meet him. Then, I’ll be able to take care of his little injuries myself. After I put away the aloe, I turn off the light in the bathroom and walk back out into my open living room/kitchen. I walk into the kitchen and begin looking through my cabinets, thinking through ingredients that I could use for dinner tonight. Finally, I just decide to have pasta for dinner and grab a large pot out of one of the drawer. I fill the pot with water and set it on the stove to boil.

While I wait for the water to boil, I walk into my living room and turn on the tv, sitting down on the couch. I find a random show and just decide to sit down to watch it. The show doesn’t really hold my attention, so I allow my mind to wander about to different topics. I think a little bit about lesson plans, but remind myself that it’s the weekend and I already have plans worked out for next week. Besides, I can just look over them tomorrow for what I could add. I think of my plans with my best friend tomorrow and how we’re going to have a small sit down lunch at the local café. While it’s on my mind, I send her a quick message just to make sure that the plans haven’t changed. I think about the book that I’ve been reading through recently, thinking through the plot and little things that have happened in it. Then, as it always does, my mind lands on my soulmate.

When he comes to my mind, I subconsciously run my hand over the small injuries that litter my body. I know he doesn’t do it on purpose, but I find it kinda silly. For me, it’s almost become a game. Whenever I feel that familiar tingling on a specific place on my skin, I guess what injury it will be this time. They’re almost never big injuries, so I’m never really worried, just small ones. A little cut on my arm, maybe from accidentally walking passed something that was a little too sharp. A bruise on my hip that might’ve come from running into the corner of a wall without noticing. A small bump on my head that could come from walking into something without ducking. Little injuries like that and I smile to myself and imagine how he could have gotten them.

Right now, my mind settles on the new burn on the side of my hand. Obviously, he touched something that was a little too hot, but what could it be? Did he not realize how hot the water was? Did he accidentally reach a little too close to a candle? Did he accidentally place his hand on top of a hot stove? I shake my head to clear the thoughts and just touch the burn softly. It’s not too bad, just a surface burn. It’ll mostly likely be better within a week or two. It doesn’t stop me from thinking about my soulmate, though. It just makes me want to know more about him. Tell him to be just a little more careful.

Shaking my head, I stand up and walk into the kitchen again. The water in the pot is boiling, so I get out the spaghetti and break it in half, pouring it into the pot. Just to be careful, I make sure to keep the small burn away from anything that could possibly make it any worse. I don’t want to accidentally make this harder on him. I set the timer for the spaghetti and turn down the temperature on the stove. Calmly, I sit down in a chair at the table and turn it so that I can see the tv from the kitchen.

Over on the couch, I hear my phone vibrate, so I get up and grab it off the couch. The notification is from my best friend, Gia, about our little lunch tomorrow.

From Gia✨: Absolutely we’re still up for lunch tomorrow! I already told John and he’s made some plans with friends, too.

I smile softly at the mention of Gia’s soulmate, John. They’re basically attached at the hip and do almost everything together. They’ve been together since the end of our sophomore year of high school and I’ve seen them go through just about everything. It’s really sweet to see how much they care for each other.

Gia and I have been friends since elementary school. In middle school, I was incredibly jealous of her soulmate attachment, since her’s was easier to understand than mine. Gia’s attachment was a timer that ticked down to the moment that she would meet her soulmate. Up until middle school, I didn’t even know what my attachment was. That is, until I started realizing that I was getting a lot more cuts and bruises than I had given myself. Gia and I talked about what that could mean and she’s the one who suggested the idea that if might’ve been my attachment. Her older brother had the same attachment and she said how frustrating it was for him to think that he didn’t have a soulmate until he realized just like I did. But, I was incredibly jealous of how easy her attachment was to understand. I remember how excited she was when her timer started getting closer and closer to the date. She was really nervous and fidgety and then, it just...happened. Her and John accidentally bumped into each other in the school hallway and even I could tell that they were soulmates.

Ever since that moment, I’ve seen them go through everything. She tells me everything that happens between them. Last year, when he proposed after dating for almost 9 years, I was the first to hear. Gia texted me immediately and sent me a picture of the ring. That night, I spent the night at their shared apartment and we talked excitedly about everything. John couldn’t stop laughing at us and telling us that we sounded like middle schoolers again. Those comments didn’t stop Gia and I, though. That night, Gia and I started planning bits of their wedding. John thought we were crazy, but he let us do it, anyway, and he even added some small comments here and there.

Now, their wedding is only a few months away and Gia is getting more and more excited as the months pass. Suddenly, my attention is ripped to the present again as the timer starts blaring in my apartment. I stand up and get the strainer and a hot plate before pulling the pot off the stove. I drain the water and set the pot on the hot plate. Feeling too tired to make the effort for marinara sauce, I just grab the butter out of the fridge and start adding butter to the steaming pot of pasta. I stir the pasta to make sure that the butter is melted and then I make a plate for myself and sit down. The tv is still playing in the other room, so I sit down on the same seat and allow myself to try and follow the show that’s playing. It’s still not very interesting, but it’s able to keep my attention for long enough to get me through dinner.

When I’m finished with my plate, I get up from the table and make my way through cleaning the pot and plates that I used for dinner. As I wash the supplies, I feel a soft tingling on my upper arm, close to my shoulder. I laugh lightly, shaking my head at him and his clumsiness. Leaving the pot in the sink, I turn off the water and walk into the bathroom, pulling up my shirt sleeve. Just at the top of my arm, a small bruise is already starting to show itself. I giggle lightly, covering my mouth. “Who bruises themself right after burning themself? How clumsy *is* my soulmate?” I giggle, shaking my head. I honestly can’t wait to meet them, just so I can ask how they even *get* all of these injuries.

Finally, I leave the bathroom again and walk back into the kitchen, finishing up the cleaning of the dishes. Once I’m done, I grab a cold water bottle from the fridge and sit down on the couch. Absentmindedly, I let the water bottle warm up a little bit, then lean it against the burn on my hand. The cool water chills my hand a little, but it isn’t cold enough to hurt the burn at all. I let myself calm down from the day and watch the tv, taking swigs from the water every now and then.

After a little while, my attention begins to slip from the tv and I allow my eyes to close for a few seconds. I’m not going to fall asleep, just let them rest. I had a long day today with the kids in my classroom and I deserve a little bit of time to rest my eyes.

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Slowly, I peel my eyes open sleepily and look around the living room. I can hear the tv talking softly in the same room as me, so I know it’s still on. However, I can also see bits of sunlight peeking in from the open window. I groan at myself for falling asleep on the couch again and get up, switching off the tv. The digital clock in the kitchen reads 7:30 AM, so I sigh to myself and climb off the couch, deciding to start on the day.

Although I usually take the day off from looking at my lesson plans (that’s a Sunday chore), I do have small chores that I need to do around the apartment. Not major chores, just smaller ones like doing the laundry and changing my bedsheets. Besides, I need to have nice clothes ready for my lunch with Gia at 12:30...and I still need to go to the grocery store. I groan at the thought of the grocery store, not even wanting to think about having to go there. I decide to start with my laundry, so I trudge into the bedroom and pick up my basket, shove my phone into the pocket of my pajamas, and head down to the laundry room on the bottom floor.

Honestly, I don’t even care that I look like a wreck right now. I’m still in my pajamas, I’m not wearing a bra, and I don’t even want to think about what my hair could possibly look like. I push the thoughts out of my mind and set the basket on the floor in front of an empty washer. Walking over to the shelves of detergent and dryer sheets, I glare up at the detergent on the top shelf. Being as short as I am, it’s a pain in the butt to live in an apartment where things like this are shared. The detergent always moves around, so I’m never sure if I’ll be able to reach it or not. Thankfully, the landlord finally answered my messages and bought a small step stool for me.

Calmly, I get the step stool off the far wall and open it so that I can use it. I step onto the ladder and go all the way to the top step to be able to reach the detergent. Once it’s in reach, I pull it off the shelf and step down. I throw my laundry into the empty washer and add the right amount of detergent for the load. Once that’s all done, I pull out my phone pocket and set an alarm on my phone. If I don’t set and alarm, my laundry will sit in the washer all day and I’ll get another complaint from the landlord about how the other residents hate that I never move my clothes out when they’re done washing.

I set my laundry basket in front of the dryer with my clothes in it and, making sure that I have everything I brought down, I head back up to my apartment. I decide to continue on with my little chores and go into my bedroom, taking off the duvet and throwing it on the floor. I get another basket and start stripping my bed, putting the bedsheets into the new basket. Honestly, I’ll need to put these in the laundry, too, but that will need to wait until later tonight. I set the old sheets aside and get a new set of sheets out of the small linen closet in the hallway. I put the new sheets on the bed, then finish the chore by pulling the duvet back onto the bed.

For the rest of the morning, I walk around my apartment and do little tasks here and there. I declutter places in my apartment that are slowly getting more and more cluttered. I get out my duster and dust off some of the spaces in the apartment that are accumulating dust. I even get out my floor cleaner that I use for my kitchen and make sure that nothing in there is too dirty. When the alarm on my phone goes off, I head back downstairs and move my clothes into the dryer. Using the step stool again, I grab a dryer sheet off the wall and throw it in with my clothes. Once that’s finished, I close up the step stool and set it against the wall again for next week. Finally, I set another alarm on my phone for the dryer.

When I get back to the apartment again, most of my small chores for the day are done, so I decide to pick out an outfit for my lunch with Gia. The weather is nice and warm, so I look through my closet for something that is cute and displays the weather. After a while of looking, I decide on a grey and white 3 quarter sleeve shirt, a light pink skirt, and some cute grey sandals. I pull on the shirt and skirt, but decide to leave the shoes off until I need to go. I walk into the bathroom and begin messing with my hair a little, trying to make it look decent and not so messy. I pull a hairbrush through it and mess with it a little more before I feel satisfied with how it looks.

On the bed, my phone alarm goes off again, so I head back downstairs to get my laundry again. I move my clean clothes from the dryer into the laundry basket and carry my clothes back upstairs with a little effort. When I get to my door, I open the door and walk inside. I set my laundry basket the floor of my bedroom and decide to fold the clothes later tonight while my sheets are in the dryer.

Sighing softly, I flop down on the bed and stare up at the ceiling for a few moments. The sunlight from outside is splayed across the ceiling of my room and I watch it for a few moments before picking up my phone. I check the time and sit back up on the bed, deciding to head out for my lunch with Gia. Calmly, I pull my grey sandals on and grab my wallet off the dresser. I grab a little pink bag that almost matches my skirt off a hook in the closet and put my phone and wallet inside. I grab my keys and add those into the bag, as well. Once I have everything that I’ll need, I check my room once more for anything. I nod my head once and walk out of my bedroom and out the door of my apartment, locking it behind me.

The walk to the café is fairly uneventful. There are people out on the street, going about their business for the day and I make my way to the little café that Gia and I like to visit. When I get there, I head inside and pick a little booth near a window at the front. There are people inside the café talking happily and a line to order at the front near the door. Instead of joining the line, I sit down in the booth and decide to wait for Gia to show up. A few minutes later, Gia walks into the café and shoots me a happy smile. “Have you ordered yet?” She asks, looking towards the growing line. I shake my head lightly and stand up.

“No, I was waiting for you,” I say. Both of us join the line and, while we wait, I look at the menu.

Gia and I have been here a few times, but I still haven’t memorized the menu yet. I search over the menu a couple times before deciding on a grilled cheese and tomato soup with some water. The line slowly moves forward and, after a little while, I’m at the cash register. I give the cashier my order and hand him the money when he tells me how much it will cost. I step aside so Gia can tell him her order, as well, and sit down at our booth again when we’re both done ordering.

While we wait, Gia starts talking about plans for the wedding again. She tells me how John and her were talking about possibly picking a few colors to use in the wedding. “I was thinking about maybe using peach and a sort of navy blue. Maybe we could add off white,” she says, adding the thought to a little note in her phone.

“That sounds nice, Gia. Those colors might work well together,” I tell her.

When our orders are called, I tell Gia that I’ll get them as she thanks me. I walk up to the counter and get both of our orders, balancing them in my hands. I set Gia’s order down in front of her, then set one down at my seat. The conversation between Gia and I dies down as we start eating and I look around the shop, watching as people come and go. The door to the café opens and the little twinkle of the bell alerts me. I look towards the door and watch as three young men walk into the café. They can’t be much older than Gia and I, maybe a year or two. For whatever reason, my eyes follow the three men as they make their way through the café. I watch as they pick a table close to Gia and I, then order and sit back down. I’m not sure why I’m so interested in them, but it’s almost like I can’t take my eyes off of them.

To be honest, all three of them are fairly attractive. They’re all a fair bit taller than me, even the shortest one probably has a good four inches on me. They have handsome features and wide chests that are very nice on the eyes. However, the one in the middle catches my eye the most. His hair is a dusty blonde-grey and his eyes are a beautiful, rich dark brown. I look him up and down and, when my eyes reach his, I see that he’s looking at me, too. He flashes me a charming smile and waves softly, almost to say ‘hi, I see you’. I flash him a soft smile and wave back.

In the next moment, it’s like everything happens in the blink of an eye. The man goes to put his hand down on the table again and there’s a soft shout from the shortest of the three men. “Joon!” The man exclaims, but he can’t stop what’s already started. Without even realizing it, the man had placed his hand a little too close to his friends coffee cup and his hand hit it as he put it back down. The cup topples over and the hot liquid immediately rushes all over the man’s hand and arm.

“Ah!” He shouts, yanking his arm away from the hot liquid. However, the coffee has already spilled over his hand and up onto his wrist. Both of his friends are shaking his heads, and the shorter friend is wincing slightly. The man shoots me a sheepish smile, but I almost don’t catch it. My attention has been brought elsewhere and I gasp loudly as the familiar tingling stretches over my hand and wrist.

I look up at the man again, my jaw open in silent shock. He stares at me for a few seconds before looking down at his hand and wrist and seeing the light burn that is already developing. His eyes flit to my hand and wrist in the same spot where the exact same mark is showing up on my skin. His jaw falls open and our eyes meet again in shocked amazement. Immediately, both of us jump up from our seats. Gia jumps in surprise at my action, but she immediately realizes what’s going on. “It’s you!” We both say in unison, looking at each other. Both of his friends also seem to realize what’s going on because wide smiles have stretched across their faces. He looks down at them, still not able to comprehend what’s happening. His other friend laughs at the man.

“Dude, don’t just stare at us, go talk to your soulmate!” He laughs, gesturing towards me.

Without any more prompting, the man hurries around their table and walks up to me. He’s much taller than me, probably at least six inches difference and he still can’t close his mouth. I giggle lightly at him and he snaps it shut immediately. His eyes flit over whatever skin he can see, taking in the bruises, cuts, and burns that litter my skin. “Oh, my God. I am so so sorry that you have to put up with my clumsiness, too,” he apologizes, rubbing at the back of his neck. I giggle lightly at him, brushing it off.

“I’ve dealt with it for so long, it seriously doesn’t even bother me anymore,” I reassure him.

Before I can even think of what I’m about to say, it just comes out. “But...how the *hell* do you get so many injuries?” I giggle. Both of his friends burst out laughing and he just blushes dark red, hiding his face in his hands.

“...I honestly can’t even tell you how. It just kinda...happens,” he laughs, flashing a nervous smile. “So, uh...what’s your name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” I say smoothly, smiling up at him.

“Kim Namjoon,” he says, waving slightly at me again.

Quickly, I look over my shoulder at Gia again. I had *not* expected to meet my soulmate on a lunch date with Gia. She seems to know exactly what I’m thinking. “Y/N, I swear to God, don’t you dare sit back down and eat with me. Just wait for his order and take your food and take him back to your apartment,” she says, laughter filling her voice. I look back at him again, staring up into his eyes.

“So, uh...wanna see my apartment?” I ask awkwardly. He laughs lightly, but nods his head without hesitation.

“Absolutely, I would love that,” he laughs, showing off a beautiful smile.

Calmly, he walks up to the counter and asks the cashier if they could change his order to a ‘to go’ order. The cashier grumbles a little, bit agrees. I walk up to the counter right afterward and ask for a ‘to go’ bowl, which the other cashier gives to me immediately. I transfer my tomato soup into the ‘to go’ bowl and set my other bowl with the rest of the used bowls. When we both have our food, we say goodbye to our friends and start to leave. Then, just before we leave the café, I grab my sandwich and place it on top of the ‘to go’ bowl. Namjoon laughs lightly at me, shaking his head.

Calmly, I lead Namjoon through the streets and back to my apartment. When we get there, he opens the door into the building and we go upstairs until we reach my door. I unlock the door and we both head inside. I set my food on the coffee table and Namjoon does the same, then I leave my bag at the door. For a few seconds, we both just stare at each other in shock again. “I...I honestly was starting wonder if I’d never meet you,” he says slowly.

“I know the feeling. My friend you saw today, Gia, and her soulmate have been together for 9 years,” I say, laughing slightly. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Nine years, when did they meet?! Were they ten or something?!” He asks in astonishment. I laugh loudly, shaking my head at him.

“No, no. They meet in our sophomore year of high school,” I tell him.

“Oh, wow, that’s...early...” he trails off. I nod my head.

“Tell me about it. He proposed last year and they’re getting married in a few months.”

Quickly, my eyes trail to our food again and I gesture for him to sit down on the couch. We both pick up our food again and start eating. However, even as I’m eating my food, I can’t help but keep glancing at him and taking him in. This person...he’s my soulmate. He’s the person I’m going to spend the rest of my life with! I suddenly feel incredibly giddy and can’t sit still. Namjoon shoots me a confused glance, but smiles as soon as he realizes what I’m feeling. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” He chuckles. I nod my head vigorously.

“I feel really giddy, like I did when I was a little kid on Christmas,” I giggle, hiding my face in my hands.

Thankfully, Namjoon and I are able to get through the meal with a little light conversation here and there. When we finish, I look around my apartment and feel a little self-conscious. Although I had cleaned it that morning, it definitely wasn’t as clean as it should be. “I’m so sorry it’s so cluttered. I wasn’t expecting anyone,” I explain. He shrugs it off lightly. It’s pretty clear that he doesn’t mind.

“Doesn’t matter. What were you expecting to do today?” He questions.

“Um...probably a little laundry and folding, and then I was gonna sit down with a movie,” I say softly. He shoots me a sweet smile.

“Then let’s do that! I don’t wanna bother your plans.” I stare at him in surprise.

“But, it’s...laundry and folding,” I laugh. He shrugs again, smiling softly.

“Hey, we’re gonna have to do it together someday, so why not start today?” He chuckles. I nod lightly and get up from my seat, grabbing the dirty sheets from my bedroom.

“Okay, follow me,” I say, heading towards the door.

Namjoon jumps up and opens the door for me, letting me out. I thank him and lead him down to the laundry room on the bottom floor. Without thinking about it, I go to get the step stool off the wall. “What’re you doing?” He questions, tilting his head.

“Getting a step stool because I’m short, if you haven’t noticed,” I say, gesturing up to the detergent. I get the step stool off the wall and open it up, but when I turn around, Namjoon is holding the detergent in his hand. I stare at him, then up at the shelf and back at him.

“Hold up...you’re tall enough to get that?!” I gasp in surprise. He nods his head slowly.

“Uh, yeah. It’s pretty easy,” he shrugs, leaning up and showing me as he touches the top shelf.

“This is great!” I laugh, taking the detergent out of his hand. He chuckles lightly, smiling at me.

Calmly, I put the bedsheets into the washer and use the right amount of detergent. When I’m done, I hand it back to Namjoon and he puts it on the top shelf with ease. Smiling happily, I lead him back upstairs and into my apartment. I walk back into my room again and take out my laundry that needs to be folded. I dump the pile on the ground and the two of us get to work.

For the most part, folding the laundry is pretty easy. I separate the laundry into piles and slowly work through each pile, putting them into my dresser when I’m done. However, what I didn’t expect was for Namjoon to take such an interest in my clothes, specifically my underwear. He holds up a pair of the lacy, cheeky panties that I normally wear. “Oh, these are cute,”

He chuckles, “I like them.” The heat stretches across my face and I grab the panties out of his hands.

“Leave them alone. Just keep folding,” I laugh. He nods his head happily and starts looking through my clothes again.

“I’m sorry, but do you only wear lacy panties?” He asks, holding up another pair. I snatch them from him again and fold them.

“Maybe I do,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.

“I’m just saying...maybe I should take a pair.” He flashes me a mischievous smile and I gasp at him, leaning over to slap his shoulder.

“No! You are not allowed to steal my panties!” I laugh, snatching the rest of them out of the pile.

“Ah, too bad...maybe in the future.”

“Kim Namjoon,” I exclaim, laughing loudly.

“I’m just saying, but...this is being rather educational. Now I know what to expect,” he explains. I hide my face in my hands, but I can’t stop the laughter from shaking my body.

“You are too much,” I laugh, shaking my head at him.

“Oh, you don’t even know how true that is. Especially considering how tiny you are,” he jokes, glancing me up and down. I gasp again and laugh, leaning over to smack his chest.

“Are you always this much of a pervert?” I ask, giggling loudly. He shrugs lightly, picking up one of my t-shirts to fold.

“Eh, not always. Though, I can’t help suggesting things when a pretty girl is asking me to fold her cute little lacy panties,” he laughs.

“That’s it. You don’t get to fold my underwear or bras anymore,” I say, picking the rest of said articles out of the collection of clothes. I pull the underwear and bras over to me and start folding them by myself.

Silence falls between the two of us as we fold. After a few moments, Namjoon scoots a little closer to me. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I was just joking,” he says softly, bumping me shoulder softly with his arm. I smile up at him.

“I know you were. It was kinda funny, actually,” I giggle. He smiles at me and nods his head.

“Alright, but I’m really not like that. I’m not pushing you into anything *any time* soon. I’d rather get to know you first, anyway. It’s better that way. And, to answer your question, no, I’m not always a ‘pervert’. I actually prefer intellectual conversation,” he says plainly, folding some of my jeans nicely and setting them aside. I tilt my head, looking at him.

“Intellectual conversation?” I question, raising an eyebrow.

“Mhm. I like to know what makes people tick. What they’re passionate about and what they dislike. It makes me feel closer to them,” he shrugs.

“Hmm,” I hum, nodding my head at this information.

While we fold the rest of my clothes, we talk about anything that comes to our minds. We talk about friends and our jobs. Namjoon tells me about the k-pop group that he’s apart of. “Actually, you saw some of the members today. Hobi and Yoongi were the people who ate lunch with me,” he says. I nod my head lightly, filing those names away for later. I tell him about working as an elementary school teacher. We talk about our childhoods and the kind of things we liked. We talk about our favorite foods and the foods we don’t like. We talk about just about anything and everything...and it’s amazing. I’ve never had a conversation like this before, not even with Gia. It feels like the conversation is flowing just on it’s own. All the topics mash together and everything just feels right. That’s when I truly understand the meaning of the word ‘soulmates’. It’s like we’re two parts of the same person and everything fits like a puzzle. And the more I get to know about him, the more I *want* to know about him. I want to know *everything* about him. Everything is right in the world and it’s just the two of us, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Suddenly, Namjoon sits down next to me and leans into my side. “So, what’s up? You’ve been quite for a while,” he says. I look towards me and feel a soft smile stretch at my lips.

“I’m just thinking,” I say softly.

“About what?” He hums, wrapping his arm around me.

“The word ‘soulmates’, and what it means. It just...it all makes sense now,” I say softly, giggling to myself. He chuckles lightly and leans over to kiss my hair.

“It does, doesn’t it? Seems like I never even knew the definition of the word, and then I spilled coffee on my hand and my whole world just...shifted,” he responds.

At the mention of the accident at the coffee shop, I gasp and look at his hand again. The skin is very red and raw, and very obviously burned. Yet again, just a superficial burn, nothing significant. “Alright, get up and come here,” I say, getting up off the floor. Namjoon knits his eyebrows together and follows me into my bedroom and then the bathroom. I point to the toilet with the lid down. “Sit,” I say plainly, and he does. I open up my cabinet and get out the tub aloe vera gel again. I turn on the cold water and make sure that it’s not too cold. “Run your hand under that,” I instruct.

Calmly, Namjoon leans over and runs his burned hand under the cool water. He goes to pull away, but I shake my head. “Ah, ah, *both* hands.” He chuckles lightly and runs his other hand under the cold water, too. Once he’s done, I turn off the water and open the tub of gel. I lightly apply the gel to his burns, making sure not to hurt them. When the gel is applied, I find some gauze pads and apply the pads to his burns. Then, I wrap the pads in medical tape and step back. Namjoon looks down at both of his hands, then looks up at me again.

“I...I thought I was imagining it. You...You take care of my injuries, don’t you?” He asks. I shrug lightly, putting away the supplies.

“Only the ones that need it. The bruises and cuts are fine, but larger cuts or burns need to be cared for,” I explain. He nods his head lightly.

“I feel it when you do that. It feels a little better afterward.” I flash a smile at him, thankful that it actually was helping when I took care of the little injuries.

Namjoon gets up off the toilet lid and we make our way back into the living room again. “Can we just cuddle now? It’s been a long day,” I say softly. He nods his head and sits down on the couch. I walk back into my room and grab a blanket out of the closet, throwing it over his body on the couch. He chuckles and adjusts the blanket on the couch. I pick out a random movie and turn on the DVD player so that we can watch it. When the title screen shows up, he doesn’t complain, so I set the DVD case down on the ground and walk over to the couch.

Namjoon opens up the blanket and I climb into the couch, cuddling into him. When I’ve settled down, he pulls the blanket down over our legs and wraps his arm around my waist lightly. For the rest of the night, we watch movies together. We laugh during the cheesy parts and watch intently as the action and climax happens. At one point, I get up and make us popcorn and we eat it together. If I don’t understand something, Namjoon explains it to me as best he can and I listen intently. It’s like he can understand almost anything, and yet he’s also able to break it down so that I can understand it, too. It’s wonderful.

As we watch that movie together and Namjoon explains something that I don’t understand, my mind falls back into the subject of soulmates. Here is this man sitting right next to me and talking about something to try and help me understand. I’ve never had someone who wants me to understand something so much. True, I’ve had teachers and I’ve had a lot of good ones. Hell, *I’m* a teacher and yet he’s still able to explain something and help me understand. And I couldn’t be more thankful that this man is my soulmate. He’s everything that I could’ve asked for in a soulmate and so much more. I never even knew that I wanted to be with someone who enjoys intellectual conversations. I never knew that a man so perfect for me could even exist, and yet here he is. Right next to me. Explaining something to me.

Calmly, I smile softly and lean into his chest a little more. He wraps his arm tighter around my side and holds me closer to him. And, in this moment, everything is perfect. In this moment, I have my soulmate and I’ve only known him for a few hours but I already feel like I know and love him. And his name is Kim Namjoon.

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