#for reference i thought that my boss was talking to me and i answered but he was talking on the phone

[dansdoom]

I did a cringe thing today , life ruined

[wonysugar]

working in retail 101 | ahn yujin

synopsis : what happens when a floor manager flirts with a floor clerk during an accidental, overnight lock-in inside the store? well, not anything professional, that’s for sure.

pairing : clerk!gpyujin x floormanager!femreader

genre : smut, kinda fluff towards the end too? coworkers trope, kinnndaaa boss x employee?? idk but THEY’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE DATING!

tags : so! lot to unpack here lol, superstore au, yes that sitcom netflix show SUE ME, references to the show, you don’t have to watch the show to read this but it’d be better if you knew what i was talking aboutgiejdks, naturally all characters work at cloud 9!girlpenis!yujin, handjobs, teasing, oral sex (yuj receiving), missionary sex, marking up, sub!yujin, she’s hung halp, dom!reader, implied puppy play, jonah!coded yujin, so yes she’s a loser, amy!coded reader, dina!coded gaeul, cheyenne!coded wonyoung, glenn!coded jiwon, although she isn’t really mentioned ueueueue, garrett!coded rei!

warnings : mentions of alcohol!

word count : 5,1k (excluding texting ofc!)

a/n : THIS IS MY LONGEST FIC YET?? kinda not proofread so sorry for that but HAIII omg okay so this took me such a long while to write i’m SORRYY</333 i started it while i was in the PRIME of my superstore hyperfixation and ??? IT’S SUCH A FUNNY SHOW I DEFINITELY RECOMMEND IT OMG did i mention this was a superstore au— [GUNSHOTS] as for my other drafts, they’re being worked on as we speak!! i really hope you enjoy reading this and thank you for your time! :]

also. IF ANY OTHER SUPERSTORE ENJOYERS ARE READING THIS PLEASEEE INVADE MY INBOX IMMEDIATELY I BEGGG

yujin.

that was all that preoccupied your thoughts, just her stupid face plaguing your mind like it was some sort of virus on a computer.

you needed yujin, there was no way around it. it was impossible to focus on your job when all you could think about was her, you needed her right here and right now.

and that’s exactly what you were gonna get.

after making sure that none of your coworkers were watching you flee the department you were in charge of, you quickly rushed towards the photo lab, or as everybody in the workplace liked to call it, ‘the bang room’. you walked in, slowly closed the door on your way and immediately pulled out your phone, leaning on the table and grinning to yourself as you typed up a text to send her.

running.

..running?

visualizing her just running across the store made you uncontrollably giggle at your screen in amusement.

cute, you thought to yourself. nobody else you knew would go out of their way to run across a department store as an employee to get head, and you’d normally take that text as a hyperbole, but knowing yujin? well, she was known to be very literal in everything she said. if she’d one day tell you that she had bigger fish to fry, that’s probably because she was indeed at home, frying bigger fish on a pan. (and she’d probably even send you pictures of the bigger fish in question, because why wouldn’t she?)

barely 30 seconds had passed after her last message when you turned off your phone, slid it into one of your back pockets and waited patiently. looking around at the familiar environment, you thought of various ways you two could use it this time. on your last encounter with yujin, she laid you down on the same counter that the printer sits on and proceeded to dick you down there! another time, you thought that grabbing the professional camera that’s usually used for passport or id pictures on the metal shelf next to the table and recording yujin as you rode her cock was an amazing idea! and, it was.

so much so that you still have the videos saved onto your phone!

you didn’t know that reminiscing about all of these past occurrences again would worsen your original predicament, but it did; you needed yujin to show up as soon as possible. now more than ever. 

then, suddenly, as if your prayers were magically answered, you heard rapid and loud footsteps outside the lab, followed by a familiar voice exclaiming the words “oh shit—“ before being cut off by the sound of numerous heavy boxes falling on the ground, the thud of that person’s body immediately following. worried, you got up from your seat, the door swinging open before you even had the chance to take a step towards it.

a panting yujin is what greeted you, her chest heaving up and down.

she looked at you, and you looked back at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. her eyes were nervous, darting around occasionally, looking like this was the first time you would’ve ever sucked her dick in the photo lab. 

oh she definitely fell on her way here.

“…hi?” you said, amused by the thought.

“hello!” she responded, still short of breath, smiling stupidly. 

still preoccupied by the alarming amount of boxes toppled over behind her, you tried looking over her shoulder, wanting to confirm your theory. she reacted by immediately leaning onto that side of the door frame, attempting to hide her accident from your curious sight by acting casual. that gesture alone made you especially notice how messy her short hair looked, how the ‘ahn yujin’ name tag she had pinned to her blue cloud 9 vest seemed to be abnormally tilted to the left, as well as… how weirdly scratched her glasses looked..?

it, unfortunately for her, didn’t take long at all for you to connect the dots.

yup. she fell. 

“yujin— did you slip on your way here?”

she immediately started laughing nervously in response, her eyes darting around as she pushed up her glasses and cleared her throat, hand running through her soft short hair, “…what?! noo… who do you think i am? that’d just be clumsy of me..” she kept laughing, that is, until she mumbled under her breath, 

“i did jog a little bit and didn’t seem to notice the wet sign that was on the floor but it’s just a tiny little scratch probably, nothing too bad aha i’ll clean it up later before the other managers sees it— a-anywho!” 

so you were correct in believing her, she did run across the store just to get in here quickly. and, as expected of her clumsy person, she apparently also slipped and fell in the process.

you giggled at her. god, what an idiot, you thought.

your favorite idiot.

“you know you could’ve just walked here, right?” you told her, slowly walking towards her as you cheekily smiled. “we’re not in a rush.”

while you did so, yujin took the opportunity to finally lock the door properly behind her, not even looking back at it. she stared at you, then at your lips, then right back up at your eyes. “well— i did tell gaeul that i was gonna stock up the fridge after cleaning the spilled yogurt..” 

her hand scratched the back of her head nervously, “and.. i-i kind of was in a rush, i mean, you texted me...”

you chuckled, simply thinking that she was being sappy. that is, until she nervously bit her lip and motioned with her eyes for you to look down at her. “i couldn’t have anyone see me like this… so—“

your gaze was met with the incredibly visible hard-on she had. no seriously, it poked right through her denim jeans, anybody with average, functioning eyes could effortlessly see it, especially under the new, very bright lights that were recently installed by the electricians. you scoffed, incredibly amused by the sight, she got a boner from those innocent texts alone? that was a first, no wonder why she looked so keen to get here.

in her defense, it had been a long while since the two of you were last in this room alone. hell, it’d been a long while since the two of you even said actual words to each other, period. you guys aren’t friends or anything, you only ever text her whenever it’s work or sex related and there’s still barely any conversation then, let alone when you spoke to her in person.

therefore, the boner wasn’t completely unexpected, but it was still enough to heavily flatter you. then, you felt your ego get even more stroked when you remembered that… she didn’t know much about you at all, yet she got this worked up over texts like that from you? a simple coworker she knew and fucked from time to time?

i mean, you probably wouldn’t even remember what her last name is without looking at her nametag; in other words, you know absolutely nothing about her either! okay yeah, you know that she would always stumble on her own words when talking to customers, and that she has a tendency to always pick at her nametag that’s on the left side of her vest using her right hand. you also know that she always pushes her glasses up whenever she’s nervous and that she is overall incredibly handsome and that you catch yourself staring at her from any department you’re tasked in managing very often, but apart from that? you truly don’t know much.

she’s nothing more than just an inferior at work, to you. an acquaintance, at most, but that’s about it.

this whole approximately-twice-per-month ‘meet me in the photo lab’ ritual you two have going on wouldn’t have even existed if it wasn’t for that one time that the corporate team accidentally locked all of you in the store for the night. seriously, what else was there to do? every employee there (including yourself) took the opportunity to get drunk out of their minds to pass the time and.. honestly? yujin just looked that good that night. you couldn’t help but feel the desire to drag her to the photo lab and figure out what she tastes like, despite it being strictly forbidden to be having any sort of sexual or romantic relationship with your inferior.

the both of you were anything-but-sober, very hot individuals, and she’d caught your attention for the longest time prior to that moment, too, something stupid was bound to happen in the heat of the moment!

“photo lab, in five.” was what you quietly slurred into her ear that night, holding the biggest, most cliché, red, beer-filled solo cup ever. since the others were too busy drinking and playing ‘never have i ever’ in a certain corner of the store, nobody particularly noticed you two. she, in response, could only turn her head to face you properly with her eyebrows slightly raised, clearly taken aback by your sudden and unexpected boldness, whilst also subconsciously taking in all of your intricate facial features all at once. it’s not like she didn’t know what ‘photo lab’ entailed, everyone that worked at cloud 9 for more than a week did. maybe you were joking, she thought, perhaps you said that just to get a reaction out of her. saying that she was confused in the moment would be a big understatement, especially when she watched you get up from your seat and make your way to the spot in question.

yujin’s not stupid at all, she knew you were drunk as shit, the manner that you stumbled on your words, the way your hand sat on her thigh, the slight tint of blush on your cheeks and nose quickly gave it away. she also figured that it was most probably a very bad idea to actually follow you into that room, considering that you’re her manager, and all..

did she still do it, though? of course, of course she did. because despite everything, despite all of the ‘this is so wrong’ and ‘we shouldn’t be doing this’ she managed to get out of her,

she was equally as intoxicated that night, and it’s not like she even had it in her to pass up your invitation whether she was sober or not; as much as yujin tried to remain professional around you and not pursue anything outside of work, she always deemed you as intriguing, and she had thought about you in such a way occasionally. that being said, she was willing to accept the consequences that came with potentially having sex with you that night.

those feelings only got stronger when you eventually showed her what she’d been missing out on for all those months in one singular night. anything she’d have hoped for, you exceeded in.

as it turns out, drunken people don't always make the worst decisions after all! since, yknow.. you haven’t gotten caught by anybody yet, and hopefully never will. the only consequence she really had to deal with afterwards was you contacting her throughout random times of her shifts whenever you felt like sucking dick.

and that’s a perfectly fine outcome for both you and her.

but, that hasn’t happened in a long time, not until now, at least. hence the situation you were both put in now.

“should’ve texted you earlier, by the looks of it, hm?” teasing, you approached her, both of you now face to face. your eyes trained on her crotch, you pressed your palm onto it before looking up at her again. yujin pushed her thick glasses up the bridge of her nose, then looked away from you in response to the intimacy, embarrassed.

you got to properly look at her features again. her eyes were still just as soft and fragile as when you saw them for the first time, staring back into yours with careful anticipation.

“m-maybe..” was what she mumbled under her breath, trying her hardest not to let out an accidental whimper from the slight friction she felt down there (which she failed to do), her thighs slightly clenched together. 

“did anybody see you walk in?” you asked.

“n-no! the only one near was wonyoung, i believe. and she was on her phone, as per usual..” reassured, you giggled at her usual nervousness, then, after keeping your eyes on her nervous lips for a few moments and licking your own in anticipation, you closed the minimal amount of distance between you two and made them meet after what felt like an eternity.

and once you did, she immediately got used to the familiar feeling and melted into the sensation of your embrace.

after such a long time of not being able to touch her like this, you felt like your hands glided on her entire body by themselves, feeling up the curve of her back and waist as you kissed her. she did the same, only this time more eager than your gentle movements, as one of her hands ‘accidentally’ grazed your ass.

one thing about yujin: she will always love your ass.

the only audible thing in the photo lab was her lips intertwining with yours, the kiss was undeniably messy, and while it might’ve been able to be heard from outside, you just couldn’t seem to care; at that moment, you just wanted to feel her body against yours, to pull her in closer than physically even possible. that’s what happens when you don’t get to have each other for a long time, after all.

“i missed you—“ she pulled away for a quick moment and whispered, pouting in a puppyish manner. her arms set around your waist and holding you, her fingers tugged onto your vest in desperation as you kept rubbing your hand on her clothed hard-on. 

“i know you did.” you whispered back, taking the opportunity to delicately unzip her jeans with the same hand you teased her with before going back into the kiss, this time, more longingly than ever. you did want to tell her how much you missed her too, but you refrained from doing so.

you had way better things to waste your time on.

your lips still on hers, she whimpered against the kiss. knowing her, she was wordlessly begging for you to do something about the raging boner you gave her. and knowing yourself, you wouldn’t give into her desires so easily, not until she used her words like a big girl. in other words, you wanted to see how desperate she would get.

smiling to yourself, you slowly slid your hand up from her crotch to her abs, you only kept tracing your finger on them, teasing her further.

“god, please—” her breath hitched, breaking the tense silence, the one that was occasionally filled with the sound of your lips uniting with hers. she whined even more, feeling her hard cock rubbing against the fabric of her already zipped down denim pants.

“please what, baby? you know i can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what it is you want.” you looked up innocently, now staring into her hooded eyes. she, in response, exhaled in anticipation, looking right back at you with her eyebrows slightly upturned. you knew exactly what she wanted, that much is obvious to her.

of course, she knew it wouldn’t be so easy, she knew she needed to work for it.

“i want you to t-touch me..” she desperately bucked her hips into your palm as a pitiful attempt at satisfying her crave for friction. “please..” was what she added afterwards, wearing her trademark puppy eyes whilst she pleaded.

“good girl.” you hummed, already getting familiar with the sound of her begging again. you planted a small kiss onto her lips and another onto her neck before getting down on your knees in front of her.

you looked up at her as you unbuttoned her jeans, your eyes locking with hers whilst you slowly pulled down her pants. once those as well as her boxers were completely off, leaving with nothing but her pretty dick springing up at you, you left lazy kisses all over her lower stomach and sides. 

you kept kissing her all over, giving attention to her inner thighs and hips, purposefully giving attention everywhere except where she specifically asked to be touched, watching out for any kind of reaction from her end.

and when you eventually got what you wanted, oh you were way more than satisfied.

“you’re so m-mean y/n.. please..” yujin whined quietly, too embarrassed to even look you in the eye anymore, hers all glossy with hot, desperate tears threatening to spill if this carried on any further. her dick said all of the words that couldn’t come out of her mouth through its slight movement, twitching and practically throbbing before you, aching to be taken care of.

she needed to feel your warm mouth around her, hell, just feeling the light graze of your touch against her aching cock would be enough; at least, that’s what it felt like, she was sure she’d go insane if you didn’t give her just that. if she could, she’d grab the back of your head and fuck your throat like she likes it, unapologetic and more than ready to make you swallow all of her thick load.

she knew she couldn’t, of course, she was very much aware that she needed permission to remotely even touch you, which, unfortunately for her, just contributed to arousing her even more.

taking pity on her, “i’m sorry for teasing, baby, you’re just so cute when you beg..” you admitted, smiling to yourself and running your hand up and down her thigh, before adding on, “you’ve been so needy, so good for me.. and just for that, i’ll take good care of you now, okay?”

just like that, her eyes were back on yours, this time wider and more excited, it’s like you could see her invisible puppy ears standing up in anticipation. she nodded at your words, her gaze still wet and pathetic with tears. 

it didn’t take long for you to finally wrap your hand around her hard shaft, stroking it up and down ever so slowly, to which the girl whose penis you were jerking off let out a heavy sigh of relief. your thumb brushed the slit of her tip, rubbing all of the precum that came out of it all over the surface of her cock, making her shudder. then, after what felt like an eternity of you teasing her, you eventually took all of her length all at once, holding your hair up. 

“ahh— y/n.. fuck..“ desperate moans escaped yujin’s mouth as you sucked her off, using all of her willpower attempting to not hold up your hair for you and ram herself into your mouth. 

she really wanted to, though, and you know her like you know the back of your hand, so that wasn’t hard to figure out. it’s obvious, especially with how her nails seemed to dig into her own skin due to how desperate she was to touch you. 

you saw that, and took pity on her; gently grabbing one of her hands and putting it on your hair, you nonverbally gave her the desired permission to finally touch you, and to guide your head however she wanted to.

mumbling quiet and desperate ‘thank you’s, she nestled her fingers in between your strands of hair for maximum comfort. unconscious about it, she dug her nails into your scalp slightly. it didn’t take long until she proceeded to finally move your head in a repetitive, back and forth motion.

“y/n..” she groaned after a while of having you suck her off, looking down at you and using all of her willpower to be as quiet as possible, but alas, “i can’t hold it in.. i’m sorry i— i need to cum.. so badly—”

no matter how hard she tried to keep it contained, she simply couldn’t: she moaned, finally shooting her long anticipated load into your throat, the warm and thick substance coating the entirety of the inside of your mouth. 

you weren’t done with her, of course, especially not after that.

now, you weren’t usually one to be into anything considered similar to ‘vanilla sex’, you always liked experimenting and trying different things, especially if it was yujin. however, you felt like keeping it simple today, your only objective being to orgasm from the girl’s, still very hard, cock.

therefore, what better way to do that than some good old missionary on the photo lab table? 

after making out with you and leaving marks all over your neck and visible parts of your collarbone, she ended up on top of your laying body, both your clothing and hers mostly still on. 

being positioned like this was the only time where she felt like she had power over you, and not vice-versa. it was the only time where she felt like she could do anything she wanted to you without any consequences, and she looked forward to it every single time. of course, she still thoroughly enjoys having you order her around, whether it’s for work or not, however, she also liked having a role switch every once in a while.

keeping her balance with one of the hands she has on the table, positioned right next to your head, she proceeded to take off the glasses from her face and set them somewhere near. you quickly stopped her by gently grabbing onto her wrist, which caught her attention. wide-eyed, she asked, “yeah?”

“don’t take them off.”

“...excuse me–”

“keep your stupid glasses on this time,” she was already committed to the action of putting them back on after you indicated that you wanted her to, but you decided to justify further, just for good measure, “i’ve always wondered what’d it look like for you to wear them while you fuck me.” 

and when she thought she couldn’t possibly be any more turned on and eager to fuck you, you proved her wrong with just that small, simple sentence.

she quickly pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose before leaning back into you, kissing you again, this time more eagerly. soon enough, she pulled away and started fucking you with slow, gentle thrusts, listening out for any sounds that came out of your pretty lips, gaze going back and forth between admiring how pleasure quickly contorted your beautiful face and watching how her dick disappeared into you.

the longer that went on, the harder it got to contain the noises that threatened to leave your already agape mouth, especially with how fast yujin’s pace got progressively faster.

“f-fuck yujin..” you whined, watching the girl on top of you lose herself as she thrusted the entirety of her length into your core. she looked at you through the lenses of her glasses as you whimpered sweet praises, leaving hungry, desperate kisses all over your lips, neck and even collarbone, marking you up even more.

soon enough, all of this turned into a constant cycle; all of a sudden, you realized that you wouldn’t actually mind staying that way for hours and hours on end. who knew that yujin could make hooking up on a shift for around the hundredth time still be so fun?

she eventually planted one last kiss on your lips before making you cum, your walls clenching all around her cock, which, of course, turned her on so much that she had to pull out to jerk off and help herself reach her own climax, in one last long moan.

lightheaded from the consecutive orgasms she’s put herself through, she laid there after you thoroughly licked her coated-in-cum dominant hand, as to remove any evidence of you two being ever here. her body rested on yours and her head comfortably nestled in the crook of your neck as she cuddled up to you, enjoying your body warmth. you panted, matching the rhythm of her own breathing, otherwise a comfortable silence settled between the two of you. 

that is, until her phone obnoxiously rang in one of her jean pockets, breaking said silence and catching the both of you by surprise. 

sitting up in a hurry, she quickly digs into said pocket and pulls out her cellular device, wasting no time to look at the caller and straight up just answers it, in case of an emergency. she puts it up to her ear before speaking up, clearly nervous, “..hello?”

silence. you stare at her with anticipation and curiosity, studying her facial expressions and looking out for any hint of bad news. thankfully, that never happened, as her eyes instead lit up in surprise.

“oh! yes, hello..”

“uh huh,” she added, nodding along to the words only she heard from the tiny phone speaker placed against her ear, “4 pm? yes! of course, i-i’ll be there. thank you so much.” 

she quickled fixed her posture and ended the call soon after saying that, turning back at you with a pleased and surprised expression.

“who was that?” you asked, curiosity eating at you.

“target.” she watched as your expression switched to a puzzled one, therefore explained further, “they called me to see if i was free for an interview later.”

“interview?” you repeated, making sure you heard her correctly, she nodded. “you applied to places recently?” is what you added.

she gave you another nod, this time reluctant, fixing her glasses and messy short hair, “i mean, nothing against cloud 9 or anything! i like working here and i love you guys, a lot! i simply just wanted a change of pace, i guess.. p-plus they might not even hire me, it’s not like i was expecting them to even call me back in the first place, so—” 

“hey,” you placed before she could stumble on another one of her words, wearing a sympathetic smile, “don’t worry about ‘not repping’ cloud 9 or whatever, it’s not like you sold your soul to jiwon when coming here. you’ll kill it there!” you joked, before continuing, “plus, you can always come back if things ever don’t work out; whatever happens, i’m rooting for you, we all are.” 

“even if you’re working for the rival company.” were your last words before leaving a kiss on her cheek and standing back up on your two feet, fixing yourself up. the sudden skin contact combined with the banter earned a shy giggle from yujin.

it was somewhat a ridiculous situation, feeling guilty for leaving your coworkers and going for another job, yujin didn’t know why she felt like this over trivial things such as this one. yet, you comforted her, despite how stupid it might seem. it’s only natural since you, out of all people, are the first person to know how much of a nervous wreck she is and how sensitive she always is to this kind of stuff, that was her charm, after all.

she appreciated you way more than she’d like to outwardly admit.

so, while you’re making your way to the door, getting ready to go to the break room to grab your things from your locker and clock out for the day, she calls out to you, “hey, y/n?”

“yeah?”

“are you maybe free, afterwards? y-yknow since our shifts both end at 2:30pm i was thinking we could maybe go grab a coffee together before my job interview and stuff but it’s like, totally fine if you already have plans or whatever—“

you smiled, flattered by the invitation. after all, today would mark the last day that you’re considered her ‘superior’, so you found it cute that she’d ask so soon. quite frankly, you were very tempted, this time having no obstacles in your way. who wouldn’t wanna go out on a date with the cute, charming girl who usually works at the dairy section? well, used to.

“sure, i would love tha—“

“ahem ahem.” you were cut off by the staticky sound of the words coming from the intercom, immediately recognizing the familiar and soft-spoken voice of your coworker, rei, “attention, dear shoppers of cloud 9, just a heads up to please proceed to not feel concerned about the following message, as it is destined to our staff, and our staff only, please and thank you. happy shopping!”

you and the puppy-like girl looked at each other in confusion, only to be thrown off guard by the same voice again, this time sounding more impatient. 

“now.. y/n, yujin, i know you can hear me; come out of that damn photo lab before i personally drag you out of there myself oh my god y’all aren’t slick, we all know what you do in there, you’re not fooling anybody. also, what happened to keeping it classy? what happened to doing this at home? not only that but it’s been like— an hour and a customer has been trying to get some passport photos done but you hoes— two, you two have been at it for forever. next time, if you’re gonna do this, make sure to at least keep it short and not have it last a whole decade.” 

then, you heard the intercom turn off.

yujin’s face went completely red as she listened to that, now not at all wanting to walk out of said photo lab. you cleared your throat, your whole body invaded with nothing but embarrassment as uncomfortable silence filled the space between you and the other girl. 

then, once you heard the intercom turn on again, it felt like your worst nightmare coming back to life for round two.

except this time, it didn’t come for you.

“oh and yujin, gaeul wanted me to tell—“ rei’s voice blasted through the speaker again before being obnoxiously interrupted by what sounded like gaeul’s voice, who was audibly angry and annoyed.

“yujin if you don’t get your ass back in the dairy section right now and clean that god damned spilled yogurt i’ll personally make sure that jiwon gets your next paycheck cut off by fifty percent, don’t test me. it reeks, yujin, reeks. oh and as for you, wonyoung, get off that damn phone before i—”

then, the intercom turned off again, which was probably rei’s doing, to both yujin, and probably wonyoung’s relief. 

you simply giggled, watching as she took off her name tag in an embarrassed manner, yknow, as to not be recognized by the customers she’d meet on her way to the row she had to clean. then, you cleared your throat, earning her attention before leaving. 

“meet me outside when you’re done?” you smiled.

she returned that same smile, immediately having forgotten the misery that was waiting for her outside that door, visibly excited.

“yeah, i’ll be there.”

[kisses4reid]

vision | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

fem!receptionist!reader x spencer, fluff, est relationship

a little draft to tide you all over while i’m on my study break

There was a ringing on your left, which you recognised to be the receptionist’s phone and not your own, but it rang for about 7 seconds before you punched the accept button.

Everything was a blur, and on top of that, all the squinting you had done during the work day was bringing on a headache. Pinching your nose with your freshly manicured fingers, you answered the phone and transferred it as quickly as you possibly could, with all the buttons looking the same that is.

“You forgot your contacts?”

You jump, not even noticing Spencer had been watching you struggle over the desk. He had a smirk on his face, leaning his cheek in one of his hands.

“Jesus, Spence, you scared me,” you can only recognise him by his height and fluffy hair, “Yes, I did. And I left my backup glasses at home.” You whine, leaning back into your wheelie chair and crossing your arms. You can’t see it, but you can tell he’s biting back a chuckle.

As your boyfriend, he should be supportive and help you through daily struggles. But seeing you squint and press wrong buttons after wrong buttons was a sort of entertainment. You distracted him from his workload all the time, but this time it wasn’t to gawk at you.

He had the same affect on you though. Ever since you started working there you found yourself glancing at him whenever something funny happened, or subconsciously taking your breaks at the same time as him. His locks, his eyes, his nose and his jaw, his laugh, his breath, his whistle and his snores, they all lead you to where you are today. Basically blind but happily talking with your boyfriend over the elevated desk you can barely see.

“I can go home and get them if you’d like.” Spencer proposes softly, but you shake your head (butterflies spreading when he refers to your apartment as ‘home’). “I can’t believe you drove like this.”

You look up at him, “I didn’t. Took a cab.”

“Are you serious? Why didn’t you call me?”

“I know you worked late last night Spence. I didn’t want to disturb your sleep.”

Your heart warms as he shakes his head. You know he was about to complain about your choices, but your boss cut him off.

“Spencer, do you know if the precinct in Washington sent over their documents yet?”

“They said they’d send it tomorrow morning.”

Your boss snaps his fingers in disappointment and turns away, before signalling every one to leave. And you try to stand up and grab your handbag, but you accidentally grab the stem of a pot plant. “Oh.”

“Here, I’ll get it. Grab my hand and just follow me.” His hand is closer, so it’s easy to see and take it. You hear him take your bag as well as his own from the floor and feel his other hand wrap around your waist for easier control. It was true you could see absolutely nothing and it was true Spencer Reid knew it all too well. There were countless memories of tired mornings and blurry eyes, you trying to search for your glasses but instead slapping his sleeping face. And then his awake one. He found it cute and no doubt hilarious. It gave you a quirk, something that only he would know how to handle.

He insisted you would both leave last, as to not slow down anyone, and you smile at his thoughtfulness. Carefully, Spencer led you out of the office building and into the passenger seat of his 7 year old car, pushing down the urge to lead you into a pole or bush on the way.

taglist (open!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna

[justabigassnerd]

A Safe Home

Pairing - Tim Bradford x teen!reader

Word count - 8,174

Warnings - Tim shows signs of slight anxiety (it's my fic and I pick how I self-project onto Tim Bradford), brief mentions of Tim's dad, fluff, angst, inaccurate descriptions of how fostering works, swearing, mentions of guns

Summary - after his talk with Lucy, Tim decides to move forward with the idea of fostering you

Sequel to 'Unexpected Bond'

A/N - hey y'all, back at it again with part two of my previous Tim fic (this is what happens when y'all encourage me). I had a lot of fun exploring this second part and honestly, I did have another idea pop into my head regarding this story so that may or may not happen. anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

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After spending most of the night scouring the internet in search of answers to his question, Tim had finally come up with a game plan. As soon as he woke up in the morning, he placed a call to an agency, asking to be considered for fostering and he managed to get lucky with them having an opening for an interview that afternoon. With the interview secured, Tim then called Sergeant Grey and asked for a personal day which thankfully was approved which meant Tim could put his whole attention on impressing at his interview.

After walking Kojo, Tim got back home and found an email from the agency on his phone, with a list of things he needed to prepare for the interview. He let out a soft sigh as he read that he needed a letter of reference from his boss which meant he had to go to work to ask Grey for such a letter. He was hoping he would be able to prepare everything in the privacy of his own home but he figured he owed Grey a face-to-face conversation about why he needed a reference. After making sure Kojo was settled, Tim made his way out to his truck and made the drive to the station, silently glad he was going to arrive at the station after role call meaning most of the patrolling officers would already be gone, saving him from questioning from Lucy.

Arriving at the station, Tim entered the building, making his way back to Grey’s office and knocking on the door, waiting for Grey to wave him in.

“Bradford, I thought you were taking a personal day.” Grey muses, focused on the paperwork on his desk as Tim enters the room.

“I wasn’t planning on coming in. I just needed to ask you for something.” Tim says, standing before the desk, watching as Grey’s gaze shifts, looking up at Tim.

“What is that?” Grey asks, eyebrow raised as he sits back in his chair.

“I’m… well I am planning on trying to foster a kid and one of the things I need for my interview this afternoon is a reference from my boss and-”

“Fostering a kid? I must admit I wasn’t expecting that. If you need a reference then I’ll write one up for you. I’ll email you when it’s done.” Grey says with a nod, making Tim sigh lightly in relief, shoulders sagging slightly as he visibly relaxes.

“Thank you,” Tim says gratefully.

“It’s okay, Bradford,” Grey says warmly, smiling at Tim.

“If it’s not too much to ask, could this stay between us? If the fostering goes forward I don’t want her getting overwhelmed by people before she’s had a chance to settle in.” Tim requests, receiving a nod from Grey.

“This conversation will not leave this room. I promise.” Grey assures, his words filling Tim with confidence before he nods, thanking Grey one last time before heading out of the office and back out to his truck to head home.

Upon getting home, Kojo greeted Tim happily once he got home, acting as if Tim had been away for days. Tim then grabbed his laptop, opened it up and began to familiarise himself with what to expect from the interview while he waited for Grey to send the reference. Kojo hopped up alongside Tim and flopped alongside him on the sofa.

“Hey buddy, how do you feel about someone else living with us?” Tim asks the dog quietly, reaching out to pet him as Kojo’s tail thumps against the sofa, seemingly giving Tim the seal of approval. Tim reads through what to expect what feels like hundreds of times until he notes the time and realises he should go and visit you. After closing his laptop, Tim gathers the candy and books he bought you and puts them in a small gift bag before picking it up and heading back out to the truck to drive to the hospital. Tim had an easy journey to the hospital and made his way to your room with little issues. As he approached your room he noticed that the door was closed and worry began to grab at him, worrying that something had happened to you but thankfully as he stuck his head around the doorframe, he found you lying in bed, mindlessly scrolling through the tv channels in the naive hope of finding something worth watching. However, at the movement by the door, your eyes were drawn away from the tv and when you realised it was Tim you lit up, smiling as you lightly invited him in.

“Officer Bradford, what are you doing here?” You ask, turning the tv off before focusing your attention on Tim who shakes his head lightly at your choice of words when it comes to addressing him.

“Please, call me Tim. I thought I’d swing by to check on you and I also bought you some things to hopefully help this time in hospital a bit better.” Tim says, smiling softly as he approaches your bedside, offering the bag out towards you.

“Offic- Tim. You didn’t need to bring me anything.” You say, eyes flicking between the bag and Tim.

“I wanted to,” Tim says, taking a single step closer and holding the bag up towards you so you have no choice but to take it which you do after a brief silence. When you take the bag, you place it down in your lap, slowly extracting the items and taking a moment to appreciate every single thing he has gotten you.

“I’m sorry if this isn’t really your kind of stuff. I just googled things and hoped for the best.” Tim says, concerned by your silence and already trying to backtrack and explain himself.

“No, please don’t apologise. This is perfect. Thank you.” You say, looking up at Tim with a small smile and teary eyes, gratefulness obvious in every aspect of your expression.

“You’re welcome, y/n,” Tim says softly, moving to sit down on one of the chairs that sat alongside your bedside.

“How have you been? Feeling better?” Tim then asks, watching carefully as you nod, already ripping open one of the packets of candy.

“My side still hurts if I move too much but I’d take that pain over being dead.” You say with a slight shrug, offering the bag towards Tim and motioning for him to take one which he refuses at first but after a look from you, he concedes and takes one, thanking you quietly.

“No one’s tried to bother you while you’re here, have they?” Tim then asks, wanting to ensure everything is okay.

“I don’t think anyone knows or cares that I’m here.” You admit quietly, eyes flicking from Tim to the bed cover, picking at the corner of it to distract yourself.

“I spoke to one of my friends, she’s a detective and she’s agreed to help me open an investigation into the home you’re in. I’m going to follow along with it and make sure that something happens to that home.” Tim then says, letting you know about his plans to deal with things.

“I don’t know what to say.” You say quietly yet gratefully. Your whole life you’d been constantly let down by adults who were supposed to look out for you. Teachers looked the other way when you were bullied and Stan had never lifted a finger to help you at the children’s home. But now, Tim was doing everything he could to help you. Someone you had only met the day before was already putting in the effort to help you when no one else would.

“You don’t need to say anything, kid. I want to help you out however I can.” Tim says, his voice was soft and gentle as he smiles at you.

“You have no idea how much this all means to me.” You say, wiping at your eyes to conceal any possible tears from Tim.

“I’m just doing my job,” Tim says, shaking his head softly as you smile softly, your hand dropping back down to your lap. You and Tim then spend some time talking some more, and the more you talk, the more Tim knows he wants to foster you. He knew how it felt to constantly be let down by people you’re supposed to look up to so he wasn’t going to let himself be one of those people towards you. He wanted to make sure you knew you had at least one person on your side. After about half an hour of chatting with you, Tim noticed the time and realised he needed to head back to his to get ready for his interview with the foster agency.

“I’ve got to head out. If you need anything you have my number. Take care.” Tim says, getting up and excusing himself.

“Have a good day.” You say with a smile as Tim crosses to the door, making him smile back at you softly. He longed to tell you that he was putting himself forward to foster you but he also knew he didn’t want to get your hopes up, and then for everything to fall through. He wouldn’t be able to face you going back to a home after everything you had been through.

“I’ll see you around, kid,” Tim says softly before exiting your room, making his way out of the hospital so he can head home to prepare for the interview. When he got home, Tim showered and changed into some smarter clothes before rereading what to expect in his interview so he could be thoroughly prepared for any questions that could be thrown his way during the interview process as well as forwarding the reference Grey had written to the agency. As he finishes reading up the page, Tim puts his laptop away and makes his way out to his truck to begin the drive to the agency. The drive was silent, other than the rumble of the engine and the radio playing quietly. During the drive, Tim kept going over everything in his head to make sure he had solid, planned answers ready when he was questioned. When Tim finally arrived at the agency, he got out of his truck and made his way in, making sure to take one last deep breath before walking in and approaching the woman at the front desk.

“Hi, I’m Tim Bradford. I’m here for an interview about fostering.” Tim says once he reaches the desk, smiling at the woman as she nods and types something into the computer at her desk.

“Yep, you’re good to go and take a seat, Julia will be out shortly.” The woman says with a smile, gesturing towards the seats behind Tim as he nods, thanking her before heading over to a seat, sitting down in it and pulling his phone out of his pocket to pass the time until he’s called in for his interview.

“Tim Bradford?” A female voice draws Tim’s attention away from his phone and he looks up to see a woman with a soft smile who gestures him over.

“Hi.” Tim greets, smiling as he reaches out to shake the woman’s hand.

“Hello, Tim. I’m Julia. If you just follow me into my office we’ll get this interview started.” Julia says lightly, leading Tim back into her office. Entering the office, Julia takes a seat behind her desk while offering Tim a seat in front of the desk which he sits on, waiting for the interview to begin.

“So, Tim, what was it that made you want to start fostering?” Julia starts, pulling up the forms Tim had filled out on her computer, skimming them once more before focusing back on Tim.

“I got involved in a case at work where I helped out a kid and found out she was in a kid's home. I guess I wanted to be a positive adult figure in her life and fostering her would not only give her the support she needs, but it would get her out of that home.” Tim says, making sure he’s completely honest with Julia.

“It sounds like you already have someone in mind when it comes to fostering.” Julia muses softly, receiving a nod in return from Tim.

“Yeah, her name is y/n l/n. I found her injured yesterday at work and when I learnt the whole story I just knew that I couldn’t be another adult in her life who lets her down. She needs a stable and safe environment and I’d like to be the one who gives it to her.” Tim says, studying Julia’s reaction carefully, hoping he hasn’t tripped up so soon into the interview.

“That leads me nicely to my next topic. I’ve read your reference from your boss, Sergeant Grey. So, you’re in the LAPD. Do you think your job may have any effect on your ability to care for a child?” Julia then asks, looking from the computer to Tim who exhales softly, glancing down at his lap briefly before looking back up at Julia.

“I am very good at keeping my personal and work life separate. I only work overtime when truly necessary. I believe I’d be more than capable of looking after y/n.” Tim says, keeping his voice level and trying not to take her words as a personal attack. After about ten more minutes of questions and answers between the two of them, Julia leans back in her chair, looking over at Tim.

“Well, you have a steady income, glowing reference, and you seem very committed to the idea of fostering y/n so I can’t say you’re a bad candidate for fostering but I also cannot guarantee anything, you know how it is,” Julia says, smiling sympathetically at Tim as he nods, understanding that she was simply covering her bases. He knew that she wasn’t able to make promises in case things fell through, the same way he wasn’t allowed to promise victims that everything would be okay.

“I understand. But if there is any chance I can foster y/n, I’ll be there as soon as possible.” Tim says with a nod, hoping deep down that everything lined up perfectly and he’d get to foster you. As Julia got up from her desk, he conjured another plan in his head just moments before he stood up to shake her hand once more.

“It was lovely to meet you, Tim. We’ll be in contact with an update.” Julia says as she releases Tim’s hand, watching as he nods and thanks her before exiting her office, thanking the lady at the desk as he left, the second he left the building he dug his phone out of his pocket, finding Angela’s number and dialling it, lifting the phone to his ear as it began to ring.

“Who have you killed?” Angela jokes upon picking up the phone, making Tim roll his eyes.

“Hilarious. I just wanted to ask you something.” Tim says, beginning to walk over to his truck.

“Shoot,” Angela says, leaning back in her chair as she awaits Tim’s response.

“I was wondering if there’s any way Wesley might know how to help me get approved to foster a kid?” Tim says. Upon hearing Angela’s slight gasp, and the sound of her getting out of her chair to find some privacy, he began to wonder if it was worth asking her.

“Is this about that kid in the children’s home you were telling me about yesterday?” Angela asks in a hushed tone, clearly still making her way through the station.

“Yeah… but you can’t tell anyone. I just had my interview with an agency and while I know they can’t guarantee that I’ll get accepted as a foster carer, and they can’t guarantee I’ll get to foster y/n. I was just wondering if Wesley knows anyone who could help me out or something?” Tim tries, getting into his truck and settling behind the wheel while Angela ducks into the rec room.

“I can call Wesley to see what he can do. I’ll have him call you when he can.” Angela says, nodding despite knowing that Tim couldn’t see her.

“Thank you, Angela. I owe you one.” Tim says, a smile on his face.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Angela jokes before both she and Tim bid each other goodbye before hanging up the phone. Upon ending the conversation, Tim puts his phone away and begins to drive back to his house, fingers lightly drumming against the wheel to ease the anxiety that begins to build up over the length of the drive. When he finally makes it home, he enters his house, gets changed into something comfier and heads to the living room to sit down on the sofa and encourages Kojo to come and sit with him, letting out the softest sigh as Kojo settles down across his lap, the weight helping to ease Tim’s anxieties and helps him relax. After almost half an hour of mindlessly scrolling through various tv channels, Tim’s phone buzzes and he picks it up after seeing Wesley’s name pop up on the screen.

“Wesley.” Tim greets, his empty hand reaching out to pet Kojo as a means to distract himself.

“Hey, Tim. Angela told me about what you asked. I have a contact who may be able to pull some strings but ultimately I can’t guarantee anything.” Wesley says, greeting Tim before getting to business.

“I understand that,” Tim says, nodding lightly at Wesley’s words.

“Between you and me, I think you stand a good chance at getting approved to foster her with the home under investigation.” Wesley then admits while Tim perks up slightly.

“You think?” Tim asks.

“I do. My colleague may be able to get you approved early so you can foster y/n while taking any necessary courses or training just on account of it getting her out of the home during the investigation.” Wesley says, a smile on his face.

“Wesley, I don’t know how to thank you.” Tim breathes out, grateful for how his friends were willing to help him out.

“I’m sure I’ll sure I’ll think of some way for you to repay me,” Wesley says with a chuckle, leaning back in his chair as he hears Tim let out a soft laugh of his own.

“I don’t expect anything less,” Tim replies.

“I’ll talk to my colleague and see what she can do. I’ll be in contact.” Wesley then says, bidding Tim goodbye before they both hang up, leaving Tim to continue blindly scrolling through tv channels, his anxiety now easing a little. After ten minutes of more channel surfing, Tim decides to take Kojo on another walk, just to get out of the house and of course, Kojo was over the moon with the idea of a second walk.

The second walk was longer, and Tim made sure to go to Kojo’s favourite places and spend extra time in the park playing fetch. The walk helped to clear Tim’s head, helping him feel more at ease and more hopeful that with Angela and Wesley’s help, things would work out in his favour. On his way back home, content that Kojo had been sufficiently exercised, Tim’s phone began to ring once more and upon seeing a number he didn’t recognise, he picked up.

“Hello?” Tim answers, taking in the scenery as Kojo sniffs around a tree.

“Hi, is this Tim Bradford?” A male voice on the other end of the phone asks, making Tim raise an eyebrow.

“Yes, it is.” He replies, beginning towards a nearby bench and sitting down on it while Kojo sits at his feet.

“I’m Frank. I’m the head of the local fostering agencies and I’m aware you had an interview with Julia earlier this afternoon. Is that correct?” The man introduces himself as Tim nods lightly.

“I did yes. Is everything okay?” Tim says, and he swears in that brief silence between him speaking and Frank replying, he could feel his throat get tighter, fearing the response he might get.

“So, normally we wouldn’t do something like this but we’ve been made aware of an investigation that’s beginning to happen on the children’s home y/n is in and since you were such a strong and committed candidate, we’ve decided to allow you to foster y/n,” Frank says, and Tim felt the ten-ton weight lift off his shoulders at his words.

“Really?” Tim asks, part of him wondering if this was some elaborate trick.

“Really. Of course, we request that you complete some training but we will allow you to look after y/n to keep her away from the ongoing investigation but I imagine detectives would want to get statements from her if needed.” Frank explains, making Tim nod as he takes in every word.

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” Tim promises, already sitting up straighter on the bench.

“That’s what we like to hear. All we need from you right now is for you to come back to the agency and fill out some paperwork for us. We contacted the hospital and they’ve let us know that y/n is cleared to be released from the hospital’s care tomorrow so you have today to prepare for y/n’s arrival. Is that okay?” Frank then says as Tim begins to stand up, walking with Kojo towards his house.

“That’s fine. Thank you.” Tim says, a small smile on his face.

“Good. You’ll also meet y/n’s case worker, Kiara while you’re there. She’ll be there to help you and y/n through this whole process.” Frank then says, giving Tim the last bit of information he needed.

“Thank you so much for all this,” Tim says gratefully, bidding Frank goodbye and hanging up the phone before hurrying back home. The second he gets home, Tim gets Kojo in the house, before heading to his truck and driving back to the agency.

When Tim reaches the agency, he’s greeted by the same woman at the front desk who points him to Julia’s office, telling him they’re waiting for him. So Tim does as he’s told, heading to the office he had been in mere hours before, knocking on the door lightly and entering upon being called in.

“Tim, just the man we were talking about,” Julia says with a smile, gesturing Tim in when she sees him. Tim enters the office, noticing the second woman who he could only assume was Kiara as he sat down on the spare chair that was offered to him.

“I’m Kiara, y/n’s case worker. It’s lovely to meet you.” The second woman confirms Tim’s thoughts as she offers a hand to him and he’s quick to shake her hand in response.

“I’m Tim. But I’m sure you already knew that.” Tim says with a soft chuckle as he settles down in the chair.

“As you know, you’ve got some paperwork to go through with you so let’s get on with that first,” Julia says, pulling paperwork out of one of her files and handing them over to Tim with a clipboard so he can read them over and sign where appropriate once they’ve talked things over. As Tim reads the paperwork over, Julia and Kiara talk him through various parts of everything, making sure he’s clear on everything being your foster parent entails, as well as being told that Kiara was going to swing by his house to do a quick check to make sure he lived in a suitable environment for you. After signing everything and being thoroughly briefed on all the ins and outs of being a foster parent, Tim was finally given the okay to leave the office and he left with Kiara walking alongside him.

“I’ll just follow behind you if that’s okay?” She asks as they exit the building, watching as Tim nods, digging his keys out of his pocket before heading over to his truck while Kiara heads over to her Mini. The drive back to his house had Tim’s anxiety digging in once more as he thought of all the worst-case scenarios that ran through his head. He knew he had no reason for Kiara to not approve him and his house as a suitable place for you to live but he could not help but think of how things could go wrong. Would Kojo throw her off? Would the fact he carries an off-duty weapon be a problem? He tried so hard to focus on the positives but by the time both he and Kiara had parked outside his house, he had convinced himself that everything was going to crash and burn. Tim unlocked his front door and stepped in, causing Kojo to come trotting over to him happily.

“Kojo, sit,” Tim commands, pointing at Kojo who obeys Tim’s command, head tilted slightly as Kiara enters behind Tim.

“You have a dog? Can I say hi?” Kiara asks with a soft smile as Tim nods.

“Kojo, come here boy,” Tim says and Kojo immediately got up and approached the two, sniffing Kiara’s outstretched hand and panting happily as she began to pet him.

“He’s lovely.” Kiara praises.

“He looks tough but he’s a big softie,” Tim admits with a gentle laugh, watching as Kojo flops onto his side for more attention.

“Well, you’re off to a good start with how well-trained Kojo is,” Kiara says as she straightens up, beginning to make her way around the house looking at everything in and around each room while Kojo follows behind her happily. Tim can’t bring himself to follow her at first, feeling rooted in place with how out of control he is in this whole scenario. After a deep breath, Tim then follows after Kiara, listening carefully to all her comments about his house.

“I know you’re a police officer so I have to ask, do you have any firearms in your house?” Kiara asks, no malice in her tone but Tim knew he wouldn’t benefit from lying.

“Yes, I carry an off-duty piece. But I lock it away when I’m not using it and I’d never encourage y/n to use it or even be near it.” Tim explains, leading Kiara to the safe he has hidden away in his bedroom and showing her the handgun he has. As he locks it back away, Tim looks over at Kiara to try and gauge her reaction but Kiara appears to be the best when it comes to having a neutral expression. By the time Kiara had done a full tour of the house, Tim had somehow convinced himself that he’d screwed the whole thing up. As he walked Kiara to the front door, she turned to face him and smiled softly.

“Your house is perfect. y/n will have a great home here.” Kiara says as Tim tries not to let his jaw drop in shock.

“Thank you so much.” He says, feeling like he’s thanked people enough for a lifetime in one day but he had to let people know how grateful he was for their help throughout this whole process. After Kiara leaves, Tim turns his attention to his phone, aware of the text he had received while he was showing Kiara around the house. He found a text from Wesley, saying he had contacted his colleague so Tim replied saying that Wesley’s colleague had helped out a lot and so he thanked Wesley and asked him to pass Tim’s thanks on to his colleague. By the time night fell Tim was lying in his bed wrestling with his conflicting emotions. He was filled with both excitement and anxiety knowing that in a mere few hours, he’d be picking you up from the hospital and officially become your foster parent.

By the morning, Tim was sure he’d only gotten a couple of hours of sleep and that Kojo was fed up with how much he’d been tossing and turning throughout the night. Tim got out of bed after Kojo all but nudged him up, showered and changed before taking Kojo on a morning walk to stretch his legs. Tim had organised a time to meet with Kiara at the hospital to pick you up after informing Grey that he needed another personal day, thankfully Grey was understanding and gave him the rest of the week off so he could help you settle into your new home and routine. So Tim wanted to spend his morning setting up your room and ensuring the house felt as homely as possible ready for your arrival with the time he had.

Once Tim had organised your room, doing the best he could with what he had, he noted the time and realised he needed to begin heading over to the hospital. So he grabbed a jacket and made his way to the front door, stopping to talk to Kojo when he noticed him lying on the floor in the hall.

“Be good, Kojo. I’ll be back soon.” Tim says, petting Kojo on the head as he grabs his keys and makes his way to the front door, heading outside and getting into his truck to drive over to the hospital. Upon arriving at the hospital, Tim met with Kiara in the waiting room of the ward you were in.

“Hello, Tim.” She greets Tim with a smile, approaching him as he meets her halfway.

“Hi,” Tim replies, noticing the bag in Kiara’s hand.

“I went by to collect y/n’s things, she’s getting changed now. A nurse will grab us when she’s ready.” Kiara explains, not missing how Tim had been looking at the bag. At her explanation, Tim nods.

“Does she know I’m fostering her?” Tim then asks, already worrying about your hypothetical reaction to the news.

“I haven’t told her yet. I figured you could be the one to tell her.” Kiara says. As if cued, a nurse enters the waiting room and approaches the two.

“y/n is ready.” The nurse says with a gentle smile, gesturing for them to follow her which they do, heading into the room Tim had become very familiar with.

“Hi Kiara, I’m ready t-” You said, back facing them as you begrudgingly turned around, cutting yourself off when you realised Tim was also present.

“Hey, kid,” Tim says softly, smiling as you mirror his smile with one of your own.

“What’s going on?” You ask, glancing between Tim and Kiara who in turn exchange a look between themselves.

“We have some exciting news.” Kiara starts, both her and Tim watching as your eyebrows furrow in thought.

“I have decided to foster you. If that’s okay with you, of course.” Tim says, watching your reaction carefully, seeing how your eyebrows furrow further before you process his words and your jaw drops in shock, tears filling your eyes.

“Really?” You ask, looking up at Tim who nods lightly at your question.

“If that’s something you want,” Tim affirms and you fall quiet for a brief second, taking a deep breath before speaking up once more.

“Can I hug you?” You ask quietly.

“Of course, come here,” Tim says, extending an arm towards you and you were quick to accept the embrace, winding your arms around his middle and hugging Tim tight. Tim felt your shuddered breaths as you hugged him, making him hold you a little closer.

“Thank you.” You whisper softly, your voice thick with unshed tears.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Tim replies in a hushed tone, squeezing you tighter before releasing you from the hug, allowing you to step back.

“Well with that good news out in the open. Are you ready to get out of here?” Kiara asks, watching as you wipe your eyes with a nod, smiling wider than Kiara has ever seen from you before.

“More than ready.” You say as Kiara hands the bag of your belongings to Tim and gestures for you and Tim to follow her once the nurse has gone over some final healthcare things with you and Tim.

“I went and collected all your stuff from the home so you should have everything. Now all that’s left for you to do is head home with Tim. I will swing by every so often just to check up on you both but I’ll let you have a few days to settle in.” Kiara explains as you make your way through the hospital, heading towards the car park.

“That sounds like a plan. Thank you for everything, Kiara.” Tim says, stopping in front of his truck with you and Kiara mimicking his action.

“It’s been a pleasure. Take care, y/n.” Kiara says, giving you a quick hug in goodbye before making her way back to her own car, leaving you and Tim alone.

“Here, hop in,” Tim says, opening the passenger side door and waiting patiently for you to ease yourself into the truck. Once you’re sat down, Tim closes the door and loads your bag into the back seats, rounding the truck and getting behind the wheel. On the drive back to Tim’s house you maintained some small talk as you watched the world passing you by. You were seeing areas of Los Angeles that you had never seen before and before too long had passed, Tim was parking on the drive to your new home.

“I have a quick question before we head in. Are you okay with dogs?” Tim asks after shutting the engine off, turning in his seat to face you.

“I’ve never really been around any dogs. The only ones around the children’s home were people’s guard dogs so they weren’t very friendly.” You explain shyly, fiddling with your fingers as you think of the dogs that would snarl and bark at you every time you dared walk past their house.

“I promise, Kojo is as gentle as they come. He’s all bark no bite. Tell you what, I’ll head in first, put Kojo in my room so he’s out of the way while you settle in. When you’re ready we can handle introductions. Does that sound good?” Tim says, explaining the plan he had formulated in his head and you nod.

“Okay, that sounds fine.” You say quietly, unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the truck while Tim does the same. You wait patiently for Tim to grab your bag before following him to the front door.

“You stay out here for a minute while I sort out Kojo, I’ll let you know when to come in,” Tim says as he unlocks the front door and you nod, sure you could hear the tapping of claws on the other side of the door. Tim opens the door enough to squeeze through the gap and closes the door behind him, smiling as Kojo approaches, sniffing at his legs curiously.

“Sorry about this buddy, it’s just for a few minutes.” Tim apologises to his dog, gently taking hold of Kojo’s collar and leading him towards his bedroom, opening the door and encouraging Kojo inside, closing the door before he can turn around and rush back out. With Kojo securely tucked away in one room, Tim makes his way back to the front door, opening it and smiling at you.

“Come on in.” He says, picking up your bag and gesturing for you to follow him into the house.

“Wow, this is gorgeous.” You say, awestruck by the house and everything in it.

“It’s not much,” Tim says with a light shrug, making you laugh lightly.

“Here’s better than the home I’ve grown up in.” You say truthfully, making Tim nod lightly as he stops outside your room.

“This is your room. I’m sorry it’s a bit bare but you’re free to decorate it how you want.” Tim says as he opens the door, stepping back to let you take in your new room. You couldn’t stop the tears from welling in your eyes at the sight of the room. Tim wasn’t lying, the room didn’t have much in the way of decorations, and the bedding and walls were all plain white but the idea of getting to make the room your own safe space made you emotional in ways you couldn’t describe.

“This is amazing. I can’t thank you enough Tim.” You say gratefully, taking the bag from Tim’s hand and heading into your room. You place your bag on the end of your bed and take in the beauty of your room. After exploring your room, you then head back out into the rest of the house, pausing when you hear the light scratching of claws against wood.

“Sorry, he’s used to having run of the house.” Tim apologises, noticing how you had paused in place, looking in the direction of Tim’s bedroom.

“No, I’m sorry. I feel bad he’s been locked away just because I’m not used to dogs.” You apologise, feeling bad for Kojo.

“He’ll live, trust me,” Tim says softly.

“Can I meet him? I’ll feel bad keeping him locked away any longer.” You ask, looking up at Tim who nods lightly.

“Only if you’re sure,” Tim asks, watching as you nod.

“I’m sure.” You confirm, making Tim look towards the door.

“You go and settle in the living room. I’ll bring Kojo through.” Tim says, watching you head towards the living room before he opens his bedroom door, immediately catching Kojo by the collar as he attempts to escape the bedroom.

“Whoa there. You need to be a bit calmer.” Tim lightly scolds his dog, carefully leading him to the living room where you are waiting. Tim enters the living room slowly, keeping a firm hand on Kojo to keep him under control.

“y/n, this is Kojo. Kojo, this is y/n.” Tim says, introducing you to Kojo and vice versa.

“Hi, Kojo. You’re really cute.” You say softly, reaching a careful hand out towards him, letting him sniff at your hand from a distance. After Kojo had sniffed at your hand, Tim slowly relinquished his hold on Kojo’s collar, allowing him to step closer to you. Kojo continues to sniff at you, gently licking at one of your hands while your other begins to pet him, bringing a smile to your face.

“I think he likes you,” Tim says, smiling at the interaction between you and Kojo.

“He’s so sweet.” You say quietly, scratching Kojo behind the ear as he pants happily, as he sits down in between your legs. After a few minutes of hanging out with Kojo, Tim decides to offer to help you unpack and settle in and you take him up on his offer, heading back to your room, this time with Kojo accompanying you. You go through your bag, chatting with Tim as you unpack everything. As Tim was putting a jacket of yours away in the wardrobe, he caught sight of you digging through your bag, a panicked expression on your face.

“Are you okay, kid?” Tim asks, turning to face you.

“I can’t find something.” You reply, barely giving Tim any attention as you continue to turf things out of your bag, tears welling in your eyes when you empty the rest of your bag and realise that one precious item is missing.

“What is it?” Tim asks, picking his way through the clothes you’d thrown across your bed to see if what you were looking for had somehow gotten lost in the middle of your t-shirts.

“I… I had a stuffed animal. A small sheep. I’ve had him since I was little and a friend I had gave him to me when she got reunited with her parents. Kiara wouldn’t have known I had him because I hid him in my room so the other kids wouldn’t find him.” You explain, panicked as tears well in your eyes.

“Hey, don’t panic. Tell me where you hid him and I’ll go and get him.” Tim says, gently taking you by the shoulders, and helping you maintain control over your panicked breaths.

“You’d do that?” You ask quietly and your voice thick with tears.

“Of course, I would. If this sheep is important to you I’ll go find him and bring him back here.” Tim says softly, hating the heartbroken and terrified look in your eyes. He could tell this stuffed animal meant the world to you and he was going to get it back for you.

“Thank you.” You whisper, smiling at Tim while wiping at your eyes.

“No problem, kid. Now, tell me where you hid him and I’ll get him back.” Tim says, waiting patiently for you to tell him where you had hidden the teddy. Once you’ve told Tim exactly where you’d hidden it, Tim tells you to stay with Kojo, making his way to his room, grabbing his off-duty piece just in case Stan tried to give him any grief, before making his way out to his truck and driving over to the children’s home. When he pulled up outside the home, he barely had time to pull his keys out of the engine with the speed he was getting out of the truck. He marched up to the front door and pounded on it, waiting for Stan to open the door.

“What do you want? You’ve caused enough trouble around here.” Stan snarls as he opens the door, recognising Tim instantly.

“I’m just here to pick up something that Kiara didn’t pick up when she was getting y/n’s stuff,” Tim says, holding his hands up slightly to show he wasn’t here to pick a fight.

“You’ve gone and put this home under investigation. I could lose my job and it’s all your fucking fault! I should teach you a lesson.” Stan swears angrily, stepping closer to Tim in an attempt to intimidate him.

“Try anything and I’ll have you locked away so fast you’ll never get to see this home close down,” Tim growls in response, his low tone and narrowed eyes enough to get Stan to step back, all attempt at intimidation now thrown out the window as he allows Tim to push past, heading upstairs to the room you had said was yours. He opened the door, heading straight for where you had said you’d hidden the sheep teddy. Thankfully, Tim had very little trouble finding the sheep.

“Let’s get you reunited with y/n,” Tim whispers to the small plush sheep before tucking it away in his hoodie pocket, making his way downstairs, making sure to shoot a warning glare Stan’s way to keep him away before heading to his truck and making the drive back home. When Tim arrived home, he found you curled up on the sofa with Kojo curled against your side.

“Did you find him?” You ask, perking up when you notice Tim’s arrival. Tim nodded with a smile, pulling the sheep out of his pocket and handing it over to you as you took it gratefully, holding it close to your chest as you let out a soft sigh of relief.

“Thank you so much, Tim.” You say gratefully, smiling over at him which he returns.

“You’re welcome y/n,” Tim replies, moving to sit alongside you and Kojo. You spend the rest of the day lounging on the sofa with Tim, getting to know each other more. After having a takeaway for dinner, you stand up and stretch, glancing over at Tim.

“Can I use the shower?” You ask, studying Tim’s reaction carefully.

“Of course, you can. You don’t need to ask.” Tim says softly, watching as you nod slightly, heading for your room to get ready for your shower before disappearing into the bathroom.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Tim caught sight of you padding across the hall, shivering violently as you tugged your hoodie over your pyjama shirt.

“Woah, are you okay? Are you coming down with something?” Tim asks, already jumping to the worst-case scenario at how violently you were shivering.

“No, I’m fine. I just didn’t realise how cold your shower could get.” You say with a shrug as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“I should’ve shown you how it works, I’m sorry.” Tim apologises, silently scolding himself for failing to show you how the shower worked.

“No, it’s fine. I know I’m not supposed to use the hot water anyway.” You say with a small smile, making Tim’s head tilt slightly in confusion.

“I’m sorry, what?” Tim asks, wanting to know why you had assumed such a thing.

“Stan always said that us kids weren’t supposed to use hot water.” You shrug, rubbing your hands up and down your arms to try and warm yourself up more.

“Okay, that rule doesn’t fly in here. You want a hot shower? You take a hot shower. You don’t have to worry about whether you’re allowed to use hot water because you will always be allowed to use it.” Tim explains, watching your reaction carefully, seeing how your head dipped, nodding shyly at his words.

“Thank you. And I’m sorry.” You apologise, making Tim feel like his heart is cracking in two.

“You have nothing to apologise for. It’s not your fault Stan is an asshole.” Tim says, resting a hand on one of your shoulders, smiling supportively at you as you lift your head to meet his gaze, shyly smiling in response as you nod lightly before a yawn spills past your lips.

“Sounds like you should get to bed. I’ll see you in the morning, y/n.” Tim says softly, releasing the light grip he had on your shoulder and watching as you head into your room with Kojo hot on your heels before making his rounds, ensuring all the doors were locked and the lights were off before retiring to bed himself.

Almost two hours after you had gone to bed you found yourself unable to sleep. You kept tossing and turning, finding the bed much too comfortable compared to what you were accustomed to. After Kojo let out a huff after what felt like your thousandth shuffle in bed you finally got up, grabbing your sheep teddy and a blanket before making your way to the living room with Kojo following behind once more.

Tim stirred at the sound of footsteps throughout the house and sat bolt upright, listening carefully to try and identify whether the footsteps belonged to you or an intruder. After a minute of listening, Tim identified the sound of Kojo’s claws tapping across the floor and felt himself relaxing, knowing it had to be you moving around with how Kojo wasn’t barking. After the house fell silent again, Tim decided to get up to check on you, worried about how he hadn’t heard you heading back to your room and he soon tracked you down, finding you lying down on the sofa, covering yourself with the blanket and using one of the cushions as a pillow with the small lamp on nearby.

“Are you okay, kid?” Tim’s voice made you jump at first, but you soon settled down when you realised it was only Tim, and Kojo settled down, his head resting on your stomach.

“Sorry the bed was ju-”

“It was too comfortable, wasn’t it?” Tim says softly, cutting you off as he crosses to sit down on the edge of the sofa.

“How did you know?” You ask, bewildered that Tim had figured it out so quickly.

“I served in the Army and did a few tours. Coming home after each one was the hardest adjustment period. And somehow the bed being too comfortable was the worst one. So trust me, I get it.” Tim says, letting you know that he understood and that he wouldn’t judge you.

“I’m just too used to the rock-solid mattresses at the home.” You say with a shrug, reaching out to pet Kojo after he noses at your hand for attention.

“If sleeping on the sofa makes you more comfortable for now. Then you can sleep on the sofa. Do what makes you feel most comfortable right now.” Tim assures you quietly, seeing how the gentle reassurance has made you feel more at ease.

“Thank you.” You say quietly, smiling at Tim as he nods.

“You’re welcome, y/n. I’m going to head back to bed but come and get me if you need anything. I’m sure Kojo will look after you.” Tim says, petting Kojo lightly before getting up, bidding you goodnight and exiting the living room to head back to his own room for the night. After Tim left, you turned the lamp off and laid back against the sofa, hand still stroking Kojo gently as you allowed your eyes to close. You had finally found a home, and it made you feel the safest you have ever felt in your whole life. And that was all thanks to Tim.

[four-loose-screws]

Hi! I’ve seen people people say that Dimitri speaks in an informal rude manner in Japanese so him being super polite in English is weird changes his character a lot, but I’ve also seen people say the localization is just fine. Could you clear up please? Thank you!

This ask has been in my inbox forever, and I know other ENG/JP bilingual FE fans have weighed in on this topic before. But exploring the nuances of Japanese formal vs. casual speech is always super fun, so I want to share my own thoughts too. There's always a chance there will be more to learn with each new person's input on the same topic. Plus, I discovered some things even I didn't expect! So, I'll still offer everything I have to say!

First, I'll explain the full background this ask is referring to. Japanese has 2 major distinct speaking styles - casual and formal. I was taught to call the formal style "distal" - because it is more about respecting distance in social standing than being formal specifically. But formal is the more common term, so I tend to stick with saying formal most of the time.

The distinction between casual and formal is made with pronoun choice, word choice, and other factors as well, but the fastest way to differentiate the two is to look/ listen for the use of desu and masu at the end of someone's sentences. Formal uses them. Casual drops them. This concept is entirely foreign to English speakers!

Dimitri drops desu and masu most of the time. His "I pronoun" is also ore, and his "you pronoun" is omae - both casual, blunt, and masculine choices. But does speaking casually to most of the cast make him rude?

Short answer is... no, not at all! There's 2 major reasons for this.

Reason #1 - the rules for casual vs. formal speech are a bit different in reality vs. fiction:

Partially, Dimitri speaks casually because he is showing his personality. He's got all those traits most standard FE protagonists share - he's strong, straightforward, and wants to connect directly on a personal level with everyone he meets. He tries to convince several characters that they can speak casually with him, because he sees people as people, and doesn't want social status putting distance between them.

Fictional characters generally speak more in-line with their personality more often, rather than following the socially acceptable speaking rules of the real world. (Though don't get me wrong - casual real Japanese people will speak casually in more circumstances than the average Japanese person.) This is simply the style that Japanese writers largely choose. And I think it is one of the great benefits of Japanese - anyone can start to pick up on a character's personality archetype almost instantly, thanks to their speaking style!

Reason #2 - Dimitri is a prince, making him of high social rank:

Here's the second nuance to this - it is absolutely standard for a superior to talk to their subordinates in casual style.

In modern times, this is shown in the workplace. Bosses and those in other leadership positions will frequently speak casually with the staff in a lower-ranking position than them. The president of the office I now work at is Japanese, and he speaks very casually with me - I have to be formal in response though, because he's at the top!!

But in the past, this would have been a distinction made between lord/ royalty, and those beneath them. Which is the case that is relevant in Fire Emblem's setting.

Dimitri can also speak casually without coming off as rude, because he is one of the highest ranking people across all of Fodlan.

-

Okay, so that's the answer in broad strokes - but let's get a bit more nuanced, go down Dimitri's support partner list, and confirm whether or not he always speaks casually!

Group #1 - Dimitri and the other citizens of Faerghus (8 other Blue Lions + Gilbert)

Dimitri has a multi-layered relationship with all of the other 8 Blue Lions. They are citizens of the country he is a prince of, therefore he is ranked very highly in social standing above them. But they are also his friends, classmates, and later, war allies; placing them on the same social level in that regard. So the way they speak to him comes down to a little bit of column A - personality, and a little bit of column B - which aspect of their relationship with Dimitri they feel is the "main" one.

Gilbert is also here in this category, as another person from Faerghus.

Dedue: Dimitri speaks casually, Dedue speaks formally, as they have a lord/ servant relationship. Dimitri wants Dedue to be a very close friend to him though, and wants Dedue to speak casually with him - this is a major source of tension in their supports. In the end, being able to mutually speak casually with each other and be friends, is a place they may reach one day. With other characters, Dedue speaks casually.

Felix: As royalty above Felix's noble house, Dimitri speaks casually. Felix is Felix, so he speaks casually too. I imagine he sees Dimitri quite literally as more of a wild boar than a human being, much less royalty.

Ashe: Dimitri speaks casually, Ashe speaks formally. However, pretty much the whole point of their supports is Dimitri attempting to get Ashe to speak casually with him.. Ashe tries in earnest to switch, but in the end sticks with speaking formally, otherwise he feels too uncomfortable. His view of Dimitri as his prince is too strong for him to let go and speak casually.

Sylvain: Dimitri speaks casually, and Sylvain speaks casually more often, but actually switches to desu and masu more than once. When a relationship is "in-between" higher/lower social standing and friendship, it's not uncommon for at least one person to switch back and forth between casual and polite speech, depending on which side of the relationship they are appealing to more at the moment. This happens in real life too as people shift from strangers, coworkers, etc. to friends.

Mercedes: They both speak casually. In Mercedes' case, I think she's speaks more in-line with her personality rather than paying attention to social status.

Annette: Both speak casually, but Annette is well aware that there's something a little wrong with that - her father would never let her get away with it if he knew!

Ingrid: Dimitri speaks casually, Ingrid speaks formally. But I think Ingrid speaks formally with everyone.

Gilbert: As you can probably guess based on my comments in Dimitri and Annette's analysis, her father most certainly speaks formally with Dimitri! He is very formal and takes social heirarchy very seriously. Dimitri, as the prince above him in social status, speaks casually.

Group #2 - The other characters at the monastary:

Since the remaining characters are not from Faerghus, Dimitri is not their prince. They'll be more likely to view him through the lens of a different relationship than royalty/ subject.

Catherine is originally from Faerghus yes, but she has cut her ties from her homeland completely to serve Rhea, so she fits into this group now.

Raphael: Both speak casually. I think Raphael treats everyone like a life-long friend!! He at least attaches san or sensei (teacher) to the names of his instructors, but that's about it for formal language for him.

Marianne: Dimitri speaks casually. Marianne speaks formally, as she does with everyone. I think she even attaches san to everyone's name, conveying how much she keeps her distance from people, trying not to form close relationships.

Flayn: Dimitri speaks casually. Flayn speaks formally, as I think she does with everyone.

Hapi: Both speak casually. I think Hapi speaks casually with everyone.

Alois: Now *here's* where things get interesting! At this point, I really thought I would discover that Dimitri speaks casually with everyone. But alas, he does NOT! Dimitri speaks formally with Alois, while Alois speaks casually to him. Why? Well, while Dimitri is a prince, he's also a student at Garreg Mach (in Part 1 of course). In this way, he is below all Garreg Mach staff and professors in social standing. So it makes perfect sense that he'd speak formally and Alois would be casual in this case.

Catherine: Same situation as Dimitri and Alois - as someone who serves as an instructor at Garreg Mach, all students like Dimitri are below her in status at the monastary. So Dimitri speaks formally, and she speaks casually.

Byleth: I left Byleth for last, because while Byleth is a professor at the monastary... Dimitri speaks casually with them. I imagine this has more to do with Byleth being the self insert than anything. Everyone bonds to Byleth on a deep level faster than magnets stick together.

And that's all I can think of to say for now! This is a super fun example of how nuanced Japanese's casual vs. formal language can get, and showcases one of the many reasons why Japanese has such a high barrier of entry for anyone learning it - including young native speakers! You don't get all this desu and masu stuff, until finally you just do.

Let me know if I missed anything, or if anyone has any follow up comments to make!

I apologize it took me so long to respond to this one! Thank you anon, and all readers, for waiting! I hope it helped explain even more of the trickier nuances of Japanese.

[jake4eva]

frustration (l.h.s)

warnings: reader referred to as she/her, voyeurism(ish),established relationship, sub heeseung, soft dom reader, humping, handjob (reader gives), thigh riding, let me know if i missed any i’m new to this!

word count: 864

written with this heeseung in mind

(this is my first smut so any opinions would be appreciated!)

You got back home from work and noticed your boyfriend acting a bit differently. He gives you very dry replies and doesn't look your way when you speak to him. Already exhausted from work, you decide to talk to him after taking a shower.

After your relaxing shower, which helps you forget all about the stress work has been giving you lately, you dry yourself off and wrap the towel around you. While walking towards your bedroom, where both you and your boyfriend stay, you can hear soft whimpers coming from the room.

You decide to open the door just enough to be able to see your naked boyfriend frantically humping on one of your decorative pillows.

You finally realize why Heeseung was acting the way he did when you came in. At the beginning of the month, your boss gave you a very important assignment to complete, and you have been working on it nonstop throughout the entire month. As a result, you completely forgot about both your needs and your boyfriend's.

You started thinking to yourself how nice it was of your boyfriend to not bother you while you work but you felt bad for neglecting him.

Quietly, you start walking in to watch him pleasure himself. you notice that your pillow is now ruined because of all his precum.

"y/n please i’m so close". you didn’t expect him to call out your name but you’re glad to see he did not notice you yet. You notice him getting tired by the way his thrusts were starting to get sloppy.

When he halts his movements you decide to make your presence known. “is this the reason why you gave me the cold shoulder?” The sudden awareness of someone else being in the room made your boyfriend jump and let out a high pitched scream.

“OMG Y/N i thought you were still showering” he said while covering himself with the pillow he was just pleasuring himself on.

“answer my question” you say in a cold tone. Your tone made heeseung leak even more precum.

“ i..i…yes” he said with a blush covering his cheeks. “i didn’t want to bother you while you worked but i got so horny and i only want to cum with your touch…”

You try your best not to smirk at his reply but you can’t help it, your boyfriend does listen to everything you say after all. Last time you had sex you told him he could not cum unless you were the one telling him to. Knowing he listened to you and didn’t cum since then made you hornier than you already were.

you decided to walk towards him and grab the pillow to look at his member. “you know you could’ve said something even if i was busy” you say before touching the precum on his tip.

As soon as he feels your finger on his tip he starts moving towards your hand for more friction. “please y/n i’m so desperate” he says while looking at you.

The face he’s making is one that makes you lose your mind every time. His eyes are shiny, his lips are red and plump, his cheek have a soft blush of pink and his hair is messy. How could you resist to this.

“use my hand since you seem to be into humping today” you say to him while closing your hand around his throbbing member begging for release.

and as soon as you do that he starts fucking your hand but that only lasted for a couple of seconds since he was already exhausted. “y/n please i’m tired i need to cum please make me cum”. he mumbles more words that you can’t decipher the meaning of so you decide to finally give him what he’s been waiting for.

you slowly pump him without the need of extra lube since his precum is already doing that for you. He’s already a moaning mess and ready to cum. To enhance his pleasure you start rubbing one of his nipples with your free hand.

The wet sounds of your hand on his member and his loud moans are driving you crazy so you finally remove your towel and put yourself on one of his thighs and decide to ride it while going faster with your pumping motion.

“y/n, y/n, y/n” he moans loudly and cums all over your hand and his stomach.

After he came back to his senses you get of his thighs and he hugs you tightly. “i’m sorry for not telling you i was frustrated i didn’t want to make you feel bad but i also didn’t want you to get scolded at work”

“it’s okay heeseung don’t feel bad i love you” you kiss him and decide it has been a long evening for you two. “i’ll clean you up just stay there” you say while grabbing the towel that was previously covering your body.

“what about you, you didn’t cum yet” he says in a worried and embarrassed tone for only thinking about his own pleasure.

“don’t worry i’ll take care of it later” you say while cleaning his body up. He suddenly grabs you and switch your position and he’s now on top of you.

“please let me eat you out i also missed your body” he says in the softest tone. So how could you decline such an inviting offer.

[jungle-angel]

My Heart Belongs To You (Doctor!Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You and Bob share a beautiful little moment when studying for your exams

Warnings: None, Grey's Anatomy reference though (lol).

Notes: Inspired by the amazing moodboard of @ryebecca Honey, I couldn't help myself and yes there will be a part two to this (lol).

Tagging: @floydsmuse @ryebecca @callmemana @attapullman @hederasgarden @withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @desert-fern

You groaned loudly, frustrated by the endless round of exams you were faced with over the next few weeks. All you wanted was to be out and about, enjoying the gorgeous summer evenings but instead you had your nose buried in a copy Gray's Anatomy that was clearly older than you. But oh was that old book smell worth it. You didn't care that your classmates had made fun of you for using those old books for studying, but their bitchy, superficial whisperings had made all the stress go straight to your neck.

"S'matter sweetheart?" Bob asked, placing his keys in the fishbowl near the door.

"M'fuckin stressed," you said, your voice muffled as you buried it in the pages.

Bob sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Lemme guess," he said. "Teddy Altman?"

"She's such a fucking BITCH!" you blurted, placing as much emphasis as you could on the last word. "She thinks she owns everyone and everything, that she's all that and a bag of chips and that she gets to boss around all the interns."

Bob laughed a little. "Oh believe me babes," he said. "She's on thin ice."

"She made fun of my books because I got them at the thrift store," you commiserated. "I'm sorry, I can't afford all those fancy medical books that I'll never use again and enjoy the smell of old books."

"Babes don't worry," Bob chuckled. "Teddy's about two steps away from getting fired after what she pulled on the last patient."

"Oh really?"

"Oh yeah," Bob answered. "Jake and I tattled on her because she was denying people organ transplant surgeries. We had a wicked young couple who both had CF and who had gotten married but Teddy of course had to meddle in it all."

"No!" you gasped.

"Oh yeah, total mess," Bob said, kicking off his shoes. "She told them that if they didn't get a divorce then she'd deny them the organ transplants. Jake and I reported her to Iceman and they're gonna give Teddy her walking papers tomorrow."

"Did the couple get the transplant?" you asked.

"Ice came to see them personally and told them that under no circumstances would he deny them the transplant," Bob explained. "Ricky and Julia are both going under tomorrow and you're looking at the surgeon who's gonna be operating."

You shrieked excitedly, jumping up from your desk seat and throwing your arms around your husband's neck, kissing his soft cheeks. "Bob that's amazing!!!"

"Oh that's not all," Bob elaborated. "I talked to Father McKenna, the hospital chaplain, and he said that Ricky and Julia wanna renew their vows before they go in for surgery."

You were practically melting at the thought. Meemaw Floyd had been right, true love really did conquer all.

"Alright, enough about my day," Bob laughed. "What's up here? What can I help with?"

"This stupid practicum," you answered. "I have to practice giving a full body physical and I don't wanna do it."

"I'll help," Bob said.

"You sure?"

"Absolutely!" he insisted. "I'll walk you through everything."

You and Bob set up a mock exam room in the living room and began the practice part. He guided you through everything and let you know if you were doing too much or too little.

"Alright Mr. Floyd," you said. "I will need to have a listen to your heart and lungs just to make sure everything's all good. Do you mind removing your shirt for me?"

"Don't mind if I do sweet cheeks," Bob chuckled removing the shirt of his navy blue scrubs.

You laughed a little bit as he tossed it to the corner. "You've got alot of nerve there mister."

Bob smiled and kissed your cheek. "I'm just teasing."

You pressed the stethoscope against his chest, listening for any abnormalities and moving it from one side to the other. You were surprised by how strong the beat of his heart was, not a single abnormality to be found and nothing out of the ordinary.

You moved it to just below his nip, the beat having grown louder and more noticeable. You didn't realize how long you had been listening until you felt Bob's hand covering yours, holding it there with a dreamy look on his face. You blushed a little, the heat rising to your cheeks, swearing you could hear Bob's heart saying "I love you" with every beat.

You took the earpieces out and set it aside as Bob pulled you closer to him, his skin warm against you. He pressed sweet little kisses to your lips, loving every little giggle that came out of you.

"I love you sweetheart," he whispered before kissing you again. "You're gonna do great."

And you knew he wasn't wrong.

[sjsmith56]

Cold Hearted

Summary: AU one shot. A marriage of convenience between the son and daughter of two CEOS to benefit their companies leads to a friendship between the couple, then more.

Length: 6.7 K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, unnamed and undescribed female character. She is occasionally referred to as “Sweetheart” or “Pretty girl.”

Warnings: unresolved emotional trauma, Bucky is a bit of a party boy at first, loneliness, unrequited love, feelings of worthlessness and betrayal.

Author notes: There’s some angst in this but it’s part of the growth process for the couple as they learn to trust and rely on each other.

🥂 🏥 🐚

It was just a business deal according to my father. I marry the son of his biggest competitor and they signed an agreement to split the market between them. It sounded like something a mob boss would ask of their daughter, but my father wasn't in the mob, at least not so far as I knew. He was the CEO of a billion-dollar company, just like the competitor was and both of them had spent almost two years fighting to corner the market for a stupid product that would be outdated in a year, two at the most. Then someone, a VP or maybe my father's mistress (same person) suggested a marriage of convenience. After all, you wouldn't screw over family. So, here I was, standing in a church next to a total stranger, both of us facing the minister as he droned on and on about the sanctity of marriage.

We each said I do, when it was asked of us, then put a ring on each other's left hand, while not once making eye contact. When it was time to kiss, he looked at me then and kissed me hurriedly on my cheek; his blue eyes looking quickly away as if I was something unexpected. We signed the register, were introduced as Mr. and Mrs. James Barnes, then he offered me his arm and we stepped down the aisle towards the open doors at the end of the church. All I had to do was pull away from him, sprint through the doors, hail a cab and I could run away. But I didn't. I took the long walk, stood in the receiving line, shook hands with my father and my new father-in-law's business colleagues then was told it was time to leave. My husband offered me his hand, led me out the doors, past the people throwing rose petals at us and into the limousine. Our wedding party piled into the second vehicle. At least it was quiet in there and as it pulled away; he looked behind us then let out a breath of air, seemingly glad that was over with.

"You thirsty?" he asked. "I think there's water in the mini fridge."

Without waiting for an answer, he opened it, took out two bottles and uncapped one, offering it to me before he opened his, draining half of it almost immediately. I sipped mine several times, then placed the cap back on.

"What did you father offer you to do this?" he asked.

I looked at him. "Nothing, just said I better do it if I wanted to still be part of the family and get my inheritance."

He frowned. "That's cold. My dad offered me $10 million. I talked him up to 25."

I looked out the window. Swell. My husband had to be paid to marry me.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I guess that sounds crass. You seem nice but I'm not the faithful type. I like my freedom."

I looked at him. He was a handsome man and in real life would never look at someone like me. He was all nightclubs, parties, exotic vacations and I was a quiet, shy wallflower, who had only ever had a handful of boyfriends. At least he was honest, if telling me he wasn't the faithful type meant he was probably going to cheat on me.

"James, you know the contract stipulates grandchildren, at least two."

"I know. I thought we could use IVF. I wouldn't expect you to sleep with me." He was quiet for a moment. "Call me Bucky. It's my nickname. James is what my father calls me when he's about to chew me out about my lifestyle."

"Okay. So, we'll have separate bedrooms?" He nodded.

"If you want but I won't bring anyone home," he said. "I wouldn't embarrass you like that and I'll be as discreet as I can." He frowned. "Your dad say anything about the divorce agreement in two years?"

I looked at him. "No, what divorce agreement?"

"You get $100 million as a settlement plus a house and a car, child support. I saw the papers and you signed it."

My mind went blank for a moment. There were so many documents that I signed when this was proposed, and I just put my signature where the lawyer said. Why wouldn't they make it known I had a divorce agreement?

"I can ask my lawyer, if you wish," he said. "I mean, you are my wife now, and your wellbeing is my concern. I'm not a complete cold-hearted asshole."

I smiled at him, and he squeezed my hand then he drank some more of his water. We pulled up to the reception venue and waited for the driver to open the door. Bucky got out, then offered me his hand to get out. There were several flashes from the paparazzi, as Bucky was well known in certain social circles, then we hurried inside and made our way to a private lounge for our formal wedding pictures. As the pictures of me and my attendants were being taken, I noticed Bucky talking animatedly with a man. He seemed bothered at what the man was explaining then when he was called for our pictures he turned to him.

"Get it done," he said. "It's not fair and I'll expose the whole thing right now if it isn't fixed."

He smiled at me as he approached, then stood where the photographer told him, right behind me. As the photographer directed the others into position he leaned towards my ear and spoke in a low voice.

"My lawyer said you signed over the proceeds of the divorce agreement to your father. I told him that was false, as you didn't even know about the agreement. If they don't fix it, we'll get an annulment and he'll get nothing. Since I already got paid by my dad, I'll give you half. It's only fair." My mouth was open, and he placed his hand under my chin, closing it, as he grinned. "I told you, I'm not an asshole, well, at least not to those who are my friends."

My smile during the photographs was genuine. It had been a long time since I had anyone that stood up for me; certainly not my parents or any of my siblings. My grandmother, before she died, was the last person who ever advocated for me, and I had forgotten how good it felt to have someone in my corner. When the pictures were done, Bucky went over to a table filled with liquor bottles and poured out shots for everyone. I looked at him dubiously, as I wasn't much of a drinker.

"Come on, it's your wedding day," he smiled. "Open your mouth, pour it in and swallow."

I did as he said, feeling it burn down my throat. He laughed then did his own shot, before pouring another. With his encouragement I drank that one, then another before the wedding planner came in to say we had to make our entrance. Grabbing my hand, he pulled me out the door and waited for the rest of the wedding party to go in as they were introduced. Then it was our turn and he looked at me, then smiled.

"You ready, Mrs. Barnes?"

I nodded and we danced our way into the reception room, as the guests clapped in time to the music. As we passed my family's table, I noticed my father was glaring at me. Bucky noticed too and leaned in close to me.

"Kiss me," he said. "Let your dad know that we're fucking with him."

"He'll be angry," I answered.

"So? Let him. He's arranged this so that only he benefits from this marriage. You deserve a piece of the action."

He twirled me around until our lips were just inches apart, then with an almost evil grin, he kissed me, and I kissed him back. As the guests hooted and hollered, we gave them a good show, then he stood up and pumped his fist in time to the bass beat in the song. I looked at my dad again and he was livid. Before the wedding, I would have been terrified of my dad being like this but maybe the three shots, the kiss, and the encouragement of my fake husband changed something because I suddenly didn't care what my father thought. Pumping my fist and jumping in time to the music I joined Bucky as we continued our entry dance around the room, before finally collapsing into our seats at the head table. He pushed my water glass to me, while he drank his then leaned close to me again.

"The trick to partying is to stay hydrated," he said. "Always drink water when you drink alcohol. It takes care of the hangover as well."

The evening went way too fast as we ate, drank, danced our first dance (Perfect by Ed Sheeran), then cut the cake, threw the garter and the bouquet. Every time my father tried to come over to me, Bucky whisked me away to dance or to meet some of his friends. When it was time for us to make our getaway, he picked me up, threw me over his shoulder and carried me out to the limousine, making me laugh. As soon as we got inside, he told the driver where to take us, then took my hand and kissed it. If I hadn't known better, I would swear that this was a man that really loved me. By the time we got to the hotel, I was quiet again, realizing that everything that Bucky did that night was a lie. It was fun but it was still a lie.

We checked in, went up to the hotel room, where our bags had already been dropped off, and Bucky tipped the bell boy before locking the door. Then he sat on a couch and patted the seat beside him. I didn't come over right away and he looked at me with puppy dog eyes, so I sat next to him.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Are you always this good of an actor? You had me believing for a moment that you ... that we were real."

"We are legally married," he answered. "I wasn't acting. I had a good time tonight. At first, I thought you were kind of a stick in the mud, but I realized that you just haven't really lived. You've been kept on a pretty short leash by your family, haven't you?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" I sighed. "I don't like confrontation and I tend to let people have their way."

He nodded his head. "Like me. I'm sorry. I was just trying to get you to have a good time. You did have a good time, right?" Bucky was right about that as I did have a good time. I nodded. "Look, if there is anything good to come out of this arrangement one of them will be you allowing yourself to have fun. No matter what happens, I kind of like you, so if we become friends from this, I'll be very happy. Finally, getting you what is due to you is the top priority. I'm not going to let your father cheat you out of what was negotiated."

I smiled at him, then bent over and undid my shoes, slipping them off. Bucky gestured to his lap, and I changed positions, so my feet lay on top of his legs. Gently, he took one foot in his hands and began to massage it. I groaned and made a face as he hit every spot that was sore, making it feel so much better. When he was finished with that, he did the other foot. When I withdrew my feet from his hands, he got up and went to the bathroom, coming out drying his hands on a towel.

"I've drawn you a bath," he said. "Take your time, play your favourite playlist and I'll get set up out here."

"I thought ...." I looked at him, puzzled.

"What kind of husband would I be if I abandoned you on our wedding night? We won't have sex, but we can sleep in the same bed. I'm tired and it's been a long day."

Opening my bag, I took out my toiletries and pyjamas. He grinned at the pink elephants on them, then showed me his pyjama bottoms, with cookies on them. I chuckled, then went to the bathroom and closed the door. When I came out half an hour later, Bucky was changed into his bottoms and a plain white T-shirt, there was soft music playing and a bottle of champagne was open. On top of the bed was a plate of chocolate covered strawberries. Patting the space next to him, he offered me a hand as I crawled on, then poured me a glass of champagne. Holding our glasses up he made a toast.

"Here's to having a good time together, not a long time," he said. "Hopefully, we come out of this as friends because good friends are rare, and you can never have enough good friends."

We sipped the champagne, then he held a strawberry for me as I bit into it, before popping the rest of it in his mouth with a cheeky grin. For an hour we talked about ourselves, growing up in families that were focused on business more than anything else. I learned that Bucky lost his mother at a young age when she died of cancer. He went to boarding school, which he admitted could have made him bitter, but he formed some deep friendships and found some adults to have a meaningful substitute parent relationship with. His college years were spent mostly partying, but he did enough work to get his degree in finance and understood enough about business to agree that this marriage arrangement would keep both of our father's companies from inflicting fatal blows on each other. As I told him about being the quiet child in the family who seemed to always be ignored and forgotten when decisions were made, he frowned and held my hand, kissing it from time to time.

It was easy to talk to him and I cried a little that night. But he comforted me and when my yawns started coming more, he insisted I get under the covers. We curled up and faced each other in the dark. Before I closed my eyes he whispered.

"Sleep tight, pretty girl."

No one had ever called me pretty before.

For the next month, Bucky was pretty attentive. My father finally succeeded in cornering me to ask what the hell I was trying to do by bringing up the divorce agreement. Maybe being so much in Bucky's presence had rubbed off on me because I asked him why the lawyer thought I signed the money over to him. He grabbed my wrist and began to twist it when my husband walked in and quickly grabbed my father's wrist, surprising him with the strength of his grip.

"You don't ever touch my wife like that again," said Bucky, gritting his teeth a little. "I brought up the divorce agreement and was shocked that a father would be so cold-hearted to his daughter to literally try to pick her pocket before she even had any money in it. You want this deal to go through? Then you restore the agreement to what I signed; the money belongs to her. Otherwise, we get an annulment, and you get nothing."

"You can't annul the marriage," huffed my father. "You were together on the wedding night."

"We were but we didn't consummate the marriage," replied Bucky, throwing daggers at my father with his bright blue eyes. "Make sure you amend that divorce agreement and I want to be there when my wife signs it. You got that?"

He released my father, put his arm around me and led me away. We signed the amended agreement two days later that stipulated the money, house, car and child support, when we divorced, would go to me and only me.

Once a week, Bucky went out with his friends, partying. He always wore his wedding ring when the paparazzi took photographs of him and for quite a while he was careful, as there were no pictures of him going off with another woman. I knew he was seeing them, because he would come home smelling of their perfume, before he showered, put on his funky pyjama bottoms and slipped into bed, usually spooning behind me, something that he said he liked even though we had separate bedrooms.

Since the marriage agreement called for two children, Bucky arranged for us to visit the IVF clinic and we both underwent testing. He must have paid the doctor and staff there a lot of money to keep their questions to themselves because none of them ever said anything about why two healthy individuals who just got married didn't make a baby the old-fashioned way. I had to undergo shots to stimulate my ovaries so they could harvest multiple eggs. Then Bucky provided them with semen to fertilize the eggs in preparation for insertion into my uterus. Over the next few months, none of them implanted and I began to develop anxiety about it. He was great, never once blaming me. There were even a couple of occasions when he didn't go out with his friends and stayed home to comfort me when my period started, dashing our hopes once again.

Somehow, somewhere along the way, I realized something, about how I felt about him. It wasn't something I expected, falling in love with a man who made it clear from the start that friendship would be the most he could offer me. For as long as I could, I kept it to myself, not wanting to appear needy to Bucky. He had been wonderful and so kind to me. But after that realization, every time I saw him get ready to go out and knew that he would return smelling of someone else, it was inevitable that I finally said something.

"Don't go out," I whispered, one night, just as he came out of his bedroom, dressed in one of his Armani suits. "Please."

He looked at me as if I was joking then saw the pain in my eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting next to me.

"Stay home," I answered. "Don't go out with your friends tonight."

"I have to," he said. "We're on the VIP list at a new club opening. I'll be back before morning. After a little sleep-in we can spend the day together, maybe take a drive out to the coast." He smoothed my hair, then kissed my forehead. "Sleep tight, pretty girl."

He left without a backwards glance, and I cried. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last, especially when the paparazzi succeeded in acquiring a picture of Bucky and a starlet kissing each other. He apologized but the crack between us was there, and it would only get worse. The night it was the worst was the night I almost died.

We were supposed to be at a charity event together, but he texted to say he was running late, and he would meet me there. Of course, when I showed up without him, I was swarmed by photographers, all of them asking where Bucky was and who he was with. Ignoring them as best as I could I entered the venue and was shown to my table, seated with several other wives of prominent individuals. Even though I had improved my social skills and learned to have more fun, these women weren't inclined to be friendly and after enduring their whispered comments with no word from Bucky I decided to go home. A car service had dropped me off but expecting Bucky to arrive in his car we didn't book a return trip. There were no taxis available, so I began to walk, trying to hail one as I walked. Somewhere, along the way, I began to cry like the pathetic little individual I always knew I was. Funny how quickly I crumbled, when I figured that even Bucky had enough of me.

I woke up in the emergency room, with a bright light glaring down on me, a collar around my neck, a tube down my throat and IVs in my arms. A doctor leaned over me until I looked at him then began asking me questions, but I couldn't speak, not with the tube blocking my voice. He told me I walked out into traffic without looking and was hit by a car. My heart stopped twice but they brought me back. Was there anyone they should call? I tried to point at my wedding ring as Bucky was the only person I wanted to see, but my arms were splinted as apparently, I thrashed around too much when I was out. He figured it out and held up my phone. Painfully, I signalled the code numbers with my fingers, and he unlocked it then phoned Bucky. Returning a moment later he bent over me again.

"He's on his way. Hang in there, okay? Nothing's broken but you do have internal injuries."

I moaned since there was really no other way to communicate. I must have fallen asleep or passed out because when I woke up again, I was in an ICU hospital room, there were the sounds of several monitors, and Bucky was sitting on a chair, with his head in his hands. He looked up at a sound I must have made and immediately came to my side, placing his hand on mine. All I saw in his eyes were guilt and sorrow.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he said. "This is all my fault. I was supposed to be there with you, but I let others distract me and before I even realized that I had missed the whole event I got the call from the doctor."

I closed my eyes, feeling the tears streaming down from them. His apology, though sincere, really meant nothing. He promised to be my friend and instead, he did what my family had done my whole life, ignored me. To me, it was proof that I was truly meaningless in this world, that I was insignificant. I felt a cloth on my face and opened my eyes to see Bucky wiping my tears away with a washcloth. Painfully, I turned my head away from him.

"Please, don't," he begged. "Don't be angry with me. I fucked up. I know I did. I thought we could get through the two years and be friends, but I haven't been a good friend to you."

I still didn't look at him. I wasn't angry but I was disappointed. He tried to take my hand in his, but I pulled it away, bringing a distressed sound out of him. It must have affected me because a nurse came in to check the monitors and suggested that Bucky go home and come back in the morning. He put up an argument, but she convinced him that I needed to rest. Reluctantly, he agreed and bent over me, kissing me on the forehead.

"I'll do all I can to make it up to you," he whispered. "You were the last person I ever wanted to hurt."

He left then and I eventually fell asleep. Those first few days he was there from early in the morning until late at night. His father visited the second day, and I was aware of a fairly emotional whispered conversation between him and Bucky. None of my family visited. Three days in they took the tube out of my throat, confident that my bruised lungs and ribs were strong enough for me to breathe on my own. It still hurt to speak, almost as much as I was hurting emotionally. Bucky watched me with glassy eyes after the doctor and nurse left, seeming almost afraid to say anything. I looked at him, and the tears began to fall again, in earnest this time. Even though my body hurt I sobbed, and he was right there, his chair pulled up to the edge of the bed, kissing my hand.

"How can I make it better?" he asked. "Please, tell me."

"You won't," I answered, my voice raspy. "You made it clear from our wedding day that you weren't the faithful type. We can't be friends anymore."

"No, please, don't say that," he pleaded. "I need you. Don't you know that?"

I shook my head. "I don't know anything anymore; except every time you walk out the door to be with someone else it hurts so much. Loving you wasn't supposed to happen, but it did."

"You love me?" he asked, not quite believing what I was saying.

I looked away, then nodded my head. "You were nicer to me than anyone I ever met. Then suddenly you were gone more and then you didn't show up last night."

I covered my face with my hands and wept. The edge of the bed dipped slightly as he sat there, then he was carefully lifting me up in his arms to hold me.

"I'm sorry." He stroked my hair. "You know there are times I wake up at night and you're talking in your sleep. Strange, weird stuff, about kangaroos and jungle roads, and stuffing your face with hot dogs at a ball game. One night, I spoke to you, and we carried on a weird conversation. When I finally said you should go back to sleep, you said okay. Then you said good night and that you loved me. Just the way you said it I knew you were telling the truth. It frightened me because I'm not a good person. I party and sleep around too much, I spend money like it will never end, and I never once told anyone other than my mother that I loved them. She died, and it got into my head that if I loved someone, I would lose them someday." He touched my wedding ring, running his fingertip on it. "Then I almost lost you and I never once told you that I was falling in love with you, a love that I was scared to feel."

"You don't love me," I scoffed.

"I love that you listen to me and follow my lead, even when you really don't want to at first. I love your goofy pyjamas and how cuddly they make you feel when you're sleeping in my arms. I love that I would rather ... be here in the hospital begging for your forgiveness and love, than partying with people who only want to ignore the real world. With you, I have real fun, where I laugh and feel good about helping you and being there for you, because that makes me feel good about myself."

"That's not love," I murmured.

"Maybe not but I know that I don't want to be anywhere but near you."

I looked at him, truly looked at him and saw a man with bags under his bloodshot eyes, his hair was sticking out at odd angles because he had fallen asleep in the armchair of the hospital room, and he had several days of beard stubble on his face because he hadn't shaved. This from a man who took pride in how he looked. He wasn't dressed well, like he normally was when he appeared in public. He looked like a mess, and it was because he loved me, and thought he had lost me.

"Do you think we could start over?" he asked, those puppy dog eyes suddenly prominent, even in their bloodshot state. "After you get better, we can go away and just be ourselves, without any family or the business bothering us. I don't care where and it doesn't have to be fancy or expensive. I just want to be with you."

"No more partying with your friends at nightclubs?" I asked. "No more sleeping with other women? Just you and me?"

"Just you and me," he repeated. "The only person I want to sleep with is you, when you're ready."

I couldn't help it. I sobbed again and began to cry. Immediately, Bucky began to kiss my face. Then he looked in my eyes, placed his hand on my cheek and kissed me for real, a soft and sweet kiss that said I was the most important person in his world.

He was as good as his word. Once I was released, he leased a guest house on the coast. It was quiet, far enough away from the other houses on that stretch of windswept beach that we could pretend we were alone. We visited farmer's markets, picking up fresh food for meals that Bucky cooked for me, trying but not always succeeding in his attempts. It didn't matter because we were together and that was the real reason we were there. We walked; short distances at first as I got my strength back, then longer where we would take our time and pick up interesting shells and rocks on the beach. Sometimes we kept them, sometimes we tossed them back into the ocean. Not once did he look at his cellphone. In fact, the charge ran out and he left it on the kitchen counter as a reminder that he wanted all of his attention on me. At night, we curled up in front of the fireplace until I fell asleep, and he would carry me in his arms to bed, helping me into my comfy pyjamas, before changing into his own and spooning behind me.

One night we had a storm, with pounding waves, thunder and lightning, and a wind that rattled every window in the house. He held me until I fell asleep. When I woke up, I looked at his sleeping face, admiring his straight nose, defined cheekbones, and the cleft in his chin. He must have sensed I was looking at him because he opened his eyes, those blue grey eyes that seemed to change colour like the ocean did whenever it was peaceful or angry. There must have been something in my eyes that morning because Bucky kissed me differently, then looked at me in a way he never had before. As his hands moved under my top, and caressed my skin, he shifted so that he was looking over me. I nodded yes, and he smiled softly, before kissing me again and pressing his body against mine.

As pieces of clothing were discarded, we explored each other's bodies, responding with soft sounds as we awakened our sensuous side. It was lovemaking that started out slowly, then built in intensity as Bucky showed me physically how much I meant to him. I had never been that intimate with anyone before, even though I thought I had with the few boyfriends of my limited experience. None of the others made me feel what he did and any last doubts I may have had about his devotion to me were erased. I was in love, truly in love for the first time and so was Bucky.

For six weeks we lived in this bubble where only we existed. Then Bucky plugged his phone in, and all the notifications sounded, one after another for almost an hour. He deleted the ones from his partying friends. They were part of his past now. There were a couple from my father, demanding to know where we were. Then there were the others from his father and lawyers. As he read them, he sighed then looked at me and sat in an armchair, pulling me onto his lap.

"When you were in the ICU, I asked my father for a favour," he said. "I asked him how we could take over your father's company."

"Why?" I asked. "Our marriage was the agreement to keep the competition equal with him, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was but when I demanded that your father amend that divorce agreement, he did something stupid and frankly, unethical. He entered into a secret agreement with an overseas company and contracted with them to provide him with the same product at a fraction of the cost. They aren't the same quality, but he is selling them for a bit less than ours, and he makes more profit on them. It's cut into our profits. We'll be alright because Dad's R&D division are already testing the update that would have been brought out at the end of the two years when we were originally going to get divorced. Of course, now, we're not getting divorced."

"We're not?" I asked, my heart racing a little.

"Nope. You've got me for life." He shrugged. "But it means you don't get your 100 million, although you do get a house and car. They were my late wedding presents to you." He cleared his throat. "Do you know how your father has his company structured?"

"No, I assumed he owns and runs it himself," I said.

"Well, he is CEO, but he doesn't exactly own it, at least not all of it," said Bucky. "It's actually shared between your dad, your siblings and yourself. He's never paid you dividends or anything from the company, has he?"

"No, I didn't know any of it," I said. "I feel stupid now, but I always assumed he had total control."

"I think you were kept in deliberate ignorance of it, and he used some shady tax loopholes to keep the money that was yours out of your hands. It doesn't appear he did the same thing to your siblings which led me to wonder why he has always seemed to be so cold-hearted to you."

It was true, my dad never really liked me. I was aware of that from my earliest memories. Bucky's hand on my mine drew my attention back to him.

"He's not your dad." I opened my mouth then closed it. "He was married to your mother when you were born but your father was someone else. The company was her's and he had no choice but to declare you as his daughter at your birth. When she died, she left the company divided up between all of you."

"My mother's not dead," I said.

"She's not your mother, she's your stepmother," he replied. "Originally, she was your dad's mistress. He married her a month after your mother died, when you were two years old. Since then, your father has cheated you out of everything that should have been yours."

"What do I do?" I asked.

"You could launch takeover plans of your own, but I think it would expose you to investigation and possibly prosecution if the full story of how your father operates becomes public." That wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing considering how he cheated me. Bucky smiled a little. "I think you should turn him in. Report him to the FBI, the IRS, and any other regulatory agency that oversees corporations. They'll freeze all the assets of the company while they investigate and once they confirm what my dad found out; you won't be a subject of investigation. You'll be recognized as a victim of a long-term plan to swindle you out of your inheritance. You can even bring a private civil suit against him. At the least it will expose your father and your family to some pretty intense public scrutiny. There might be some criticism about you, but I'll be with you while this happens, and I won't let anyone associate you with them."

I considered his words. For someone who said he barely passed his university courses he sounded pretty sure of himself and of what we should do. Just at that moment I felt like I had to throw up and I ran from him to the bathroom, emptying my stomach. His hands were on my hair, gently pulling it back so it didn't get soiled. Then he gave me a glass of water as I sat on the floor. A strange but satisfied smile was on his face.

"You haven't had a period since we first got here," he said.

I stopped drinking the water and looked up at him. "Do you think I'm pregnant?"

He shrugged then kneeled down to play with the ends of my hair. "Maybe. We can pick up a pregnancy test on the trip back to the city."

Something occurred to me. "The grandchildren clause ... who asked for that?"

He smiled. "My dad. I'm an only child so he wanted to make sure that I had heirs before I died because of my partying ways. If you are pregnant, I'll be happy and so will he. I'm going to be more involved in the company but not to the extent that you feel left out. In fact, my dad thinks you might be a good fit for the Board of Directors. We can work together and take over managing it when he retires."

"I don't know anything about business," I protested.

"I'll teach you," he smiled. "Say yes, to staying as my wife, the mother of my child, and partner in business. There's no one else I want to have it all with."

I agreed and his smile lit me up inside. When we returned to the city, the lawyers that his dad retained helped me turn my father and siblings in for the irregularities of how they ran my mother's business. Like Bucky said, several agencies became interested, and they confirmed that I had been cheated out of tens of millions of dollars worth of income and compensation. There were many shady deals they engaged in, and even the ones that weren't shady, like the marriage arrangement between Bucky and me, weren't always honoured. It took a long time for the whole thing to wind its way through the legal system but when it did, it was my company, and mine alone, as the Board of Directors fired my father and siblings after they were forced to divest their holdings in order to pay years of back taxes on the income they didn't declare. When Bucky's father, George Barnes, proposed a merger I accepted, being offered the position of Chief Ethics Officer in the combined companies.

There was something else that happened. On the way home from the coast, we stopped and picked up a home pregnancy test. The next morning, we waited as the stick processed the urine sample. The word Pregnant appeared and we accepted that our life was going to change. Bucky left behind the party lifestyle completely, becoming the partner in life I had always dreamed of. When our son was born, he was hands on as a father and stayed that way with each child we had, four in all. Some people said we lived a charmed life, but it wasn't always that way.

I never felt truly loved until I survived my accident and confessed my love to my husband. Bucky, who had dealt with his own trauma of his mother's death and being sent to boarding school at a young age, had lived a life of shallowness, afraid to truly be intimate with anyone, until he almost lost me. Our sham marriage ultimately brought him and his father closer together, healing the rift that had kept them apart. With the trust we built between us we formed a new family, made richer by the birth of our children. Although my biological father was dead, he did have children, born after his affair with my mother. We got along well, and they became my new siblings. Whatever cold-hearted life I suffered before I agreed to marry a man I didn't know didn't matter, as Bucky and I showered our own family with all the love we could muster. Above all else, we were happy.

One shots masterlist

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[originalaccountname]

Sorry to bother you but I’ve been getting into BSD and Chuuya’s my fave, but I’ve been seeing some contradictory things in fanfic so…

Does Chuuya actually have a god sealed inside him? I thought it was just like his power without limitations and was dubious of those takes, but since eldritch beings can apparently be a thing (and not an ability), I think it could be plausible either way.

Though even if it’s not I can see why people would use that route for some good angst.

This is not a bother at all! This is something I very much like to talk about

if you're really new I do recommend you go read both "Dazai, Chuuya, Fifteen Years Old" and "STORM BRINGER" light novels (but SB especially), not only are they great books with Chuuya as the focal point but they will help answer your question in depth (you can buy the English translations but I can help you find the translation online if that's what you need, just message me again)

The short version is that Arahabaki being an actual god, a separate entity from Chuuya that has a personality/a voice/desires, is a common fanon trope, but not a canon fact. The truth is more complex and much more fun, lore-wise, in my opinion

And now the long version, because I'm passionate about this and this is my excuse to deep dive into it (spoilers for Fifteen)

In Fifteen, Chuuya says this:

Chuuya himself presents "Arahabaki" as nothing more than pure power. No thoughts, no personality, but powerful for sure.

That phrasing in Fifteen created a lot of confusion I think, talking about gods as real but also not:

But I think it's more of a symbolic reference, talking about immense power that seem out of this world. Because in practice, as Chuuya said before, "Arahabaki" is simply raw power, not an entity. You can't pray to it, it can't understand you, it can't perform miracles (which is why he knew the Old Boss couldn't have been brought back by Arahabaki and it was all nonsense from the start)

I'm also putting part of the blame on the anime, where they decided (while not being exactly wrong either, out of context it's weird) to illustrate Chuuya "floating in a bluish-black darkness, surrounded by a transparent seal" and being pulled out by a hand:

like this:

When, if you actually reread that part in the novel with knowledge about Storm Bringer, it's actually this moment that was being referred to:

Which brings us to Storm Bringer! (heavy spoilers I'm serious)

"Project Arahabaki" was the Japanese government's attempt to create an ability weapon from an individual. They wanted to craft a singularity that could be used multiple times, thus granting them access to power that should not be accessible normally. They based their research on what France had discovered through Verlaine. The objective is to create a massive energy output through a self-contradicting ability, for which you need a vessel:

Chuuya is the device. "Arahabaki" is the massive energy. That massive energy can control gravity to the point of being able to create localized black holes! N implied that part of the lab's work for the Arahabaki Project was to modify Chuuya's body to be able to withstand the constant gravity effects on it so he doesn't just die. Chuuya's normal use of his ability doesn't seem to have any drastic effects on him, and his physical resilience (to getting hit, stabbed, poisoned, shot, electrocuted, to going through a black hole) does seem to imply they did succeed at least in part.

And this bit here explains why "Arahabaki" was the chosen name for the project; unexplained phenomena across History that can be linked to an ability going haywire, but were attributed to god-like interventions at the time. So you're a funny little mad scientist, you read research papers from another mad scientist that named their own creation after a mythological monster, and you decide to do the same with your own local folklore.

But!

There's still something to be said about how "Arahabaki" is a singularity, and therefore, has its own set of rules. Chuuya does loose control, Chuuya does regress to a sort of destructive instinct while under Corruption. But "Arahabaki" is still no more than an ability singularity. Here's what is said about Guivre and Arahabaki:

They are both singularity life-forms. They exist because they are singularities; outside of it, they are nothing. The inner workings of abilities are still mysterious, but most of them have a link to their wielder's desires. For example, Atsushi's Tiger is there to protect him, a mirror to his will to live no matter what. Verlaine's Guivre is similar:

Guivre was a beast born out of Verlaine's loneliness and resulting hatred. He felt deeply alone in not feeling/being human, and through Pan's (his "creator") special "programming" of Verlaine's ability, N was able to trigger the true form of his singularity with that flare gun and metal powder, which took the form of Guivre. It's what the hat was supposed to prevent, but Verlaine had already lost it by then.

Chuuya's Arahabaki is probably similar. Its first apparition was when Rimbaud tried to absorb him and use his ability for himself, and any subsequent use is linked to grief and survival. Basically, if they're their own entities, they are still born in a specific context and deeply linked to the original ability user's character. And Arahabaki? Only exists if Chuuya uses his activation phrase to get rid of the limitations put into place to prevent him from exploding:

More about about Corruption: SB is kind enough to give us an explanation on how the nullification process works, right here:

Chuuya's self-contradicting ability makes him able to control gravity through the sheer amount of energy it creates by permanently interacting with itself. It is kept under control through the use of an activation phrase, O grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again, which, after being either said or thought by Chuuya, will open his "Gate" (which I'm interpreting as a blocker put in place by the lab so the singularity doesn't just kill him, like those poor people they mentioned existed through History), and by opening it, "free Arahabaki's true power" (aka Corruption). When Dazai uses his ability on him, the base self-contradicting ability is nullified, which cancels out the singularity taking place, which stops Corruption and allows that "Gate" to close again. The red markings are there because they're cool and fun.

To conclude, I'll let Dazai do the honors:

bonus: what does that mean for Chuuya's ability?

bons 2: Perceived timeline of Chuuya's past and what happened to to create confusion around his humanity

[dragon-kazansky]

When the raven calls

Morpheus x Female Reader

You, his raven, die protecting Jessamy while rescuing the Dream Lord. When Morpheus returns to his realm, he mourns your loss, only to find a stranger waiting for him in his throne room. The stranger claims to be you, now in human form. He doesn't understand, but his raven will always watch over him.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Eleven - All together now

☆☆☆

The knock on your door is firm but also cautious. You can tell he is hesitant. You know it's him before he even speaks.

"Go away."

For the first time ever, Morpheus doesn't know how to feel about you. You've never spoken to him like that before. You've always welcomed him. Now he senses your disdain toward him.

"Can we talk?"

You don't answer him. Morpheus feels hopeless right now. Upsetting you was something he never wanted to do. Ever. Not since... Not since he realised just how he felt.

He gently rests his head against the door and sighs softly.

"I did what I had to do. Gault will learn her lesson, and she will return one day. I did not think this would upset you so much."

Morpheus is startled by how quickly you open the door. You glare up at him, eyes still glistening with tears.

"Upset me? You've hurt me. How dare you send Gault away like that. She was trying to protect the boy. She wasn't harming anyone."

"She was keeping Jed in a lie. It is not our job to protect them from their waking lives." Morpheus tries to tell you.

"I know that much. God, you're so... difficult!"

Morpheus stares at you.

"You punish people just because they dare say no to you. How can you be so happy about that?" You look at him desperately. "Gault. Nada. Neither of them hurt you. Just your pride."

Dream clenches his jaw. He didn't expect this personal attack on him.

"I hate that I care so much. I hate that... that I can't do anything to fix any of this. I hate... that I feel the same way she did, and yet you're letting me go about my business."

"You feel the same way?" He asks, unsure of what you're referring to.

"I'm not the way you made me. Not any more. I changed. You're not punishing me for being different."

"Your case is different."

"Is it? Because it doesn't look it to me. Gault wanted to be a Dream. I think that's beautiful. You denied her that wish and sentenced her to the darkness." You wipe at your eyes gently. "I don't like being human any more..."

Morpheus feels his heart break.

You turn back into a raven. "I won't need this room anymore. I'm going to stay a raven. So, forget everything. Forget me stupid emotions and... and the clothes and the ice cream, and all that stuff we did."

You fly past Morpheus and disappear into the palace.

Morpheus stands there with his thoughts.

☆☆☆

You had gone to the library to seek comfort in Lucienne. She wasn't surprised to see you back in your raven form. The main reason you had stayed in your human form so long before was because Dream had asked you to stay like that.

She could see he was particularly fond of you as a human.

Still, she said nothing and let you keep her company. After all, Lord Morpheus had been quite clear to her about her place in the Dreaming.

It seemed everyone was having issues with the stubborn king.

Matthew comes flying in quickly and lands on the table beside you and Jessamy. You look at him.

"I don't know how she did it, but Rose just got Lyta pregnant."

"What?" Lucienne looks at him confused.

"Apperantly it happened in her dream, and when Lyta woke up-"

"She was still pregnant."

"Very much so," Matthew confirms.

"Then it's starting." You say. Lucienne nods.

"Rose is weakening the walls between the realms."

"You gonna tell the boss?" Matthew asks.

"No." Lucienne says.

"No?"

"It's none of my business."

You caw softly and step a little closer to her hand, pecking her finger gently with affection.

"Uh, since when?"

"Since Lord Morpheus reminded me that I'm merely a librarian and should concern myself with my books from now on." Lucienne tells him.

"He said that?"

"He's being an ass." You scoff.

Matthew is surprised to hear speak badly about him. He had always assumed you looked up to the guy. You had always been so fond of him and talked very highly of him before.

"What is wrong with him?" Matthew asks.

"Nothing is wrong with him. He's always been this way." Lucienne explains. "He's juat been away so long I'd forgotten. He's determined to deal with the vortex and the missing Arcana by himself. Without anyones help. So any news must be reported directly and exclusively to him."

"Okay. But can I keep you in the loop?"

"You'd better not. In his Majesty's current mood, he could banish us to the Darkness." She sighs. "As he did Gault."

"All right, fine. I'll go back to spying on Rose. But you should make up with him. Both of you."

"I should make up with him?" You ask, almost laughing.

"Yes. Now's not the time to be fighting, not when there's a vortex getting people pregnant and runaway Nightmares doing God knows what."

You sigh. "I'm not going to talk to him."

Matthew caws.

"I'm going to help you." You say.

"Huh?"

"With Rose."

"Is that a good idea? You wanna tell the boss first?" Matthew asks.

"Nope."

Before either Matthew or Lucienne can say anything, you fly off. Matthew turns to Jessamy, who had been quiet this whole time.

"What is happening?"

Jessamy looks at him. "They're having their first fight."

Lucienne looks at her. "I see."

"I don't." Matthew caws.

"They're in love." Lucienne says softly.

☆☆☆

You sit outside the window of Rose's room. You can see her talking to Lyta about dreams. Lyta wants to live in her dreams with her husband and the baby.

Rose's phone rings, and she answers it. You can't hear the other side, but you can tell Rose is talking to Jed.

She knows where he is.

You could go there and keep an eye on Jed.

Someone knocks on her door and you decide to leave.

You fly off.

The location in question is a hotel. It may be three hours away from Rose, but with your access to the Dreaming, it did not take long at all. You land in a tree opposite the hotel and decide to stake it out.

☆☆☆

Morpheus is in his throne room looking at his broken windows. Something is happening in the Dreaming. Quakes. Violent shaking, leaving damage behind.

Something was wrong.

"Loosh? You in here?" Mervyn comes in but stops when he finds Morpheus. "Whoops. Oh, sorry, boss. I was looking for Lucienne. See ya." He tries to leave.

"Wait." Morpheus stops him. "Why were you looking for Lucienne?"

"Oh, well, we just had some minor seismic activity and a little, you know, damage i wanted to report." Mervyn says.

"Then why not report it to me?"

"Uh, because you're busy? While you were away, Lucienne started taking care of that stuff, so I figured... why bother you when-"

Morpheus looks displeased. "Mervyn, if the Dreaming has been damaged in any way, I will be the one to address it."

The whole place shakes again. The window cracks even further.

"Oh, for crying out loud. You want me to fix that for you? Or will it just keep happening?" Mervyn asks.

"It will not keep happening because I will find the cause of the disturbance, and I will eliminate it." Morpheus declares. "Thank you, Mervyn."

"Uh, you're welcome."

Morpheus looks back at the window in thought. He then walks away, heading to the library.

He walks through the aisles with books under his arm. He walks with determination and then stops when he reaches where Lucienne is.

"Lucienne?"

"My Lord."

"I have come to return these..." He hands the books he was carrying. "And to assess the extent of the damage from the recent disturbances." He looks around. "Have... you any idea as to what caused them?" He asks.

"I assumed it was you, sir."

"Me?"

"Making further improvements to the realm... now that you're back."

"Lucienne, when we last spoke, I did not mean to imply that your efforts beyond the library are without value."

"Oh?"

"I really wish to relieve you of responbilities with which, had I been here, you would never have been burdened."

"I see."

"And... in that time, did you experience any... similar seismic disturbances?" He asks slowly. He speaks carefully.

"I did not."

"Have you any... theory as to their origin?"

"Speaking strictly as a librarian? I do." She says. "But you won't like it."

"Go on."

"I know you're waiting to see I'd the vortex will lead you to The Corianthian and Fiddler's Green. The way she led you to Gault."

"She may yet still." He says.

"Yes, but while you're waiting, she's putting cracks in the foundation." Lucienne sighs.

"Rose Walker has visited this realm before and done no damage. This is something else, something new."

"Perhaps. But if there is something new in the Dreaming and you did not create it, how did it get here? This is the vortex. I assure you."

Morpheus thinks it through.

☆☆☆

Dream stands at your door. He hadn't brought himself to dismantle the room after what you said last time he spoke to you. In fact, he hadn't seen you since that conversation.

He felt sad. Sad that he had upset you. Sad that you had refused your human form. Sad that he didn't stop you from leaving when you got mad at him.

He wanted to talk to you, but he knew you weren't in there. "What am I doing?" He asks himself.

Morpheus walks away.

I'm sorry. He wanted to say.

Morpheus decides to give you your space and go deal with whatever is happening on his own. He can make things up with you later.

He finds himself in the dream of Lyta Hall. Rose is there, too. As is Lyta's deceased husband.

He needs to fix this.

"What do you think?" Matthew caws.

"Tell Lucienne she was right about the source of the tremors, and that I'm taking care of it."

He walks down to the house.

☆☆☆

You see Rose climb out of a car that just pulled up. There's a man with her. One you recognise immediately, though he didn't always look like that.

"Hm."

They head inside the hotel. You look around and then fly down to the ground, landing on two human feet. You won't get far going inside as a raven. You head for the entrance.

When you get inside, you don't see Rose or the man she was with. You sigh and look around the lobby. It's busy.

You don't even notice The Corianthian who had come inside because he thought he saw Jed run down the hall. He noticed you though.

It just hasn't clicked who you were yet.

He goes back outside. You walk further into the hotel.

Gilbert had seen and heard some things he would rather have not. He walks out of one of the rooms and frowns. As he turns, he catches a glimpse of you. Something clicks.

He knows you are.

He goes to call you, but you walk away. He panics. Gilbert heads back to the lobby and leaves a message at the front desk for Rose. He then leaves the hotel.

He needs to see Morpheus.

☆☆☆

Back in the Dreaming, Morpheus enters the library looking for Lucienne.

"Lucienne?"

"My Lord. There's something I must tell you." She comes out from between two shelves.

"And I will listen." He says. "But first, you must let me tell you you were right. The vortex was responsible for the damage to our realm, and I was... wrong to risk our safety in the hope that she would locate the missing Arcana."

"You were not entirely wrong, sir." She days to him. "She's found them both."

"What? The Corianthian and Fiddler's Green? Where? How do you know?" He asks.

"Fiddler's Green told me."

Gilbert comes into view and joins them. He looks at Morpheus with shame. He bows his head and looks back up at Dream.

"Apologies, lord, for having left."

"Why? Why did you leave? I trusted you. You were the heart of The Dreaming."

"No, sir. You were the heart of The Dreaming. And you were gone." Gilbert tells him. "I was curious. And it turns out that life as a human contains substance I never even imagined when I was here. Which is why I've returned because... he's murdering them."

"The Corianthian?"

"He appears to have built up a cult of worshippers who kill for pleasure, endangering the waking world and the life of a friend called Rose Walker."

"The Corianthian has found Rose Walker?" Morpheus asks, needing to know for sure.

"Yes." Gilbert looks confused.

"Can you imagine the damage he could do with someone like Rose?" Lucienne says, looking at Dream.

"You must tell me where they are."

"I thought perhaps you knew." He said. "Your raven is there, at least, I believe it was her."

Morpheus' heart sinks.

"My raven...?"

"Yes. Although, she appears to be human now." Gilbert wad rather confused. He didn't know you could do that.

Your name falls from his lips.

"No..."

Lucienne looks at Morpheus with worry. She knew you had gone to see Rose, but it didn't dawn on her that you would go so far. Now you were close to The Corianthian, too.

Morpheus leaves the library immediately.

☆☆☆

You see no sign of Rose or of Jed. You decide they must be upstairs somewhere. As you turn back around to head for the lifts or elevators as they call them in this country, you find yourself face to face with The Corianthian.

"Well, hello."

"Oh dear..."

☆☆☆

@missdreamofendless

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@sitkafay

@snowsatsu

@ladyofdreaming

@thoughtsfromlayla

@modest-irish-goddess

@mystic-mara

@dreamingblueberries

@littlemoistcarrot

@simpingdeadcharacters

@bluespecs14

@modest-irish-goddess

[bella-rose29]

April Fool's! ~ a DTH special

here's the first of (I'm sure) many Deck the Halls specials! in honour of April Fool's Day I figured it was the perfect occasion to write a lil something about our Schmoopies (who love to prank each other)

I did take a teeny bit of inspiration from @tangledinlove's heart eyes series (which if you haven't read then go now! also I recommend everything on love's master list) and wrote this special through the eyes of Holly, George, and Lucy!

edit: I should add in now that you probably could read this as a standalone? there are some references in there that might be teeny spoilers but tbh DTH is pretty formulaic so you could figure out the plot just from the summary 😂

Warnings: one or two swear words, and I think that's it? maybe a spoiler in the form of Holly being there?

Word count: 1.7k

anthony lockwood master list

enjoy the pictures of lockwood and Cameron being silly boys!

“Where is he?”

Holly looked up from where she sat at the kitchen table writing a shopping list to study the girl who stood in the doorway. Y/n had her hands on her hips and a frown on her face, and Holly felt sorry for whoever she was looking for. No doubt it was Lockwood, having forgotten an important anniversary or something, who was provoking the glare that had settled over Y/n’s features. 

“Lockwood?” Holly asked, returning her attention to the shopping list. She tapped the pencil against her temple while trying to think of what she was missing. 

“Yep. Have you seen him? I’ve got a bone to pick with him, the little shit.”

Holly snorted, then a thought popped into her head. She wrote down ‘tomatoes’ in neat print with her pen. “What’s he done this time?”

The other girl huffed and moved further into the kitchen, pulling open cupboards with a little too much force. “He’s pranked me! Hid all the toothbrushes in the house and now I can’t brush my teeth!”

“I- he did what?” That was such a random thing to do, and yet it was very perfectly Lockwood. “Why would he prank you?” Holly’s colleague stopped in her tracks, arms spread open with the cupboard handles in each hand, and slowly turned around. Instead of the initial frustration that had been on her face there was now confusion. 

“You… you do know what day it is… right?” Holly shook her head, brows creasing. “It’s April Fool’s Day? First of the month?” Realisation dawned, and she rushed to stifle her laugh when Y/n started glaring again. “Why is that funny? Lockwood hid all the toothbrushes, Holly! How do I brush my teeth now?! I had Weetabix this morning and my mouth feels all gross,” she complained. 

“I think he went out for a walk or something,” Holly answered, finishing up her list. “That was a while ago, though, so he should be back in a minute.” No sooner than she’d stopped talking the sound of the front door opening made both girls look in the direction of the hall. Shuffling noises followed while the person moved around, then footsteps grew louder and the kitchen door was pushed open to reveal the head of the company. 

Anthony Lockwood was many things: a great boss, slightly suicidal at times (although the number of occasions that he threw himself directly into danger had decreased significantly after the Christmas holidays), an excellent swordsman, and a loving boyfriend to Y/n.

But as Holly watched Y/n she knew that he was also in a lot of danger. 

“Ah. Hello, Darling. Holly.” He was wary, gaze flicking between the two girls as he stayed holding on to the door handle. Y/n’s eyes narrowed, and Lockwood’s attention was suddenly solely on his girlfriend. His smile faltered slightly, and there was a split second where both he and Y/n sort of… hovered, the tension in the room palpable. 

Then the chaos started. 

Lockwood turned and fled the room, footsteps heavy on the stairs, and Y/n was hot on his heels, yelling as she thundered after him. Holly could hear their laughter echoing through the house, and she let out a chuckle of her own as she stood up and folded the shopping list, putting it in her pocket. 

Her boss was going to suffer dearly for the rest of the morning for withholding the toothbrushes, but he wouldn’t be physically harmed. 

A thump sounded on one of the upper floors, something that sounded worryingly like a body hitting the ground, and pleads of mercy followed immediately while mixed in with laughter. 

She was tickling him, then. Going for the feet if she wanted maximum effect or sitting on him and going for his sides if she was smart and didn’t want him wriggling away. 

Holly picked up a bag and her keys in the hallway, and made for Arif’s. Hopefully Lockwood would no longer be a hostage by the time she got back. 

~~~

George Karim was normally quite forgiving when it came to Y/n, but printing out tens of pictures of Penelope Fittes was a step too far for him. 

“Why do you even want to do this anyway? I thought after the whole… ‘fake-dating-turned-real-dating’ thing over Christmas you weren’t fighting anymore.” He was spread in front of the printer in his room, blocking his friend from accessing it. Since getting back from her family’s house in the middle of nowhere a few months ago, after snowstorms stretched out their Christmas, Lockwood and Y/n had been annoyingly cute and coupley.

“He hid all the toothbrushes, George. He’s having a nap right now because I tickled him into exhaustion, so I’ve not got much time before-” she broke off when George tackled her to prevent her from using the printer. 

“Okay… well why does that mean you’re printing loads of pictures of Penelope Fittes? The head of the company we hate?”

“… Because I’m going to cut them out and replace all the photos in the house with them.” The pair of them stopped squirming and George pushed his glasses back up his nose to stare in shock and confusion at her. 

“You… what?” 

“It’s April Fool’s. I’ve got like… two hours left before midday. Please, Georgie. I have to get revenge.” He sighed, then released his grip on her. 

“Fine. But when he gets annoyed, you are not linking this to me. I’m not getting dragged into all of this.”

The two of them spent the next fifteen minutes printing photos and cutting them out, and when it sounded like Lockwood was stirring, Y/n sent George to keep him distracted. He penned his boss in the library where he’d fallen asleep earlier, spewing facts about the next case they were going to go on to keep Lockwood there while Y/n snuck around the house. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been waffling on about murder victims and Type 2s, but when Lockwood’s girlfriend tentatively peeked around the door he had to stop himself from visibly sighing in relief. 

“You alright, Schmoopie?” Where the nickname had come from, George had no idea, but Y/n was the only one who used it and specifically only when she wanted to piss off Lockwood. Lockwood himself knew this too, and George could immediately see the suspicion creep in. 

“… yeah. Are you?”

“Hm? Oh, yep!” Her grin was wide, and looked rather like a shark, and George wondered why Lockwood was staring all heart-eyed at her despite being suspicious. “Just been… finding toothbrushes.” It was Lockwood’s turn to smile now, boyish delight making him perk up. 

“Get any?”

“Eventually. Took me a bloody long time though,” she mumbled the last part, but the boys still heard. George snickered. Lockwood’s smile grew. “Anyway… tea?”

“Alright then,” Lockwood replied, stretching out a hand and moving over to the doorway. Y/n took it, planting a kiss on her boyfriend’s cheek before pulling him out the room. 

She sent a wink over her shoulder at George as they turned the corner and disappeared. 

~~~

So far, the pranks were one each. 

Lucy had noticed Y/n putting photos of Penelope Fittes in all the picture frames around 35 Portland Row, and when her friend had explained why, she had gladly joined in. Any opportunity to mess with Lockwood was an opportunity that Lucy took. 

Around half an hour after Lockwood had reappeared from the library, he still hadn’t noticed that all of the photos had been replaced. He’d spotted one or two maybe, but that was it. Some were more sneaky than others, and Lucy knew that Lockwood would be finding Penelope Fittes photos for weeks after today. 

Now she was sat in the living room with George, Holly, and Y/n, sketching in her pad. There was near silence in the room, the clock ticking and what sounded like suppressed snorts of laughter outside the door the only noises. Lucy frowned, glancing at the door every few seconds. After another minute or so of stifled laughter Lockwood appeared, mouth pinched to hide the smile on his face as he walked in and sat on the arm of his normal armchair where Y/n was sat. 

“…Lockwood?” Lucy asked. “Why are you wearing a hat? You’re… indoors?”

“Oh! Just felt like it! Thought it would be nice to wear something a little more fun. For morale, you know?”

Y/n looked up then, and gaped at the top hat perched on her boyfriend’s head. “You’re ridiculous, Anthony.”

“Yep. We’ve had this conversation before, Darling.” All talk died down after that, Lockwood occasionally murmuring a word or two to help Y/n with her crossword, and the members of the agency were at peace. At some point Lockwood excused himself to the toilet, and when he came back around five minutes later (they’d all heard the toilet flush) there was something slightly off about him. He still had the top hat on, but something was bugging Lucy. 

The same process repeated, Lucy looking up at him every now and then to try and figure out what was different and Y/n doing the same (the two girls had shared multiple confused looks), and then Lockwood excused himself to get a plate of biscuits. When he came back, Lucy once again felt something was off. The biscuits were passed around, crossword helped, top hat still in place, then Lockwood came up with another reason to leave the room. 

It was the fourth time he returned that Y/n appeared to realise what was happening. “Ohh, I see what you’re doing, Anthony Lockwood.”

“Do you?” he asked, innocent as a child. “I’ve noticed the photographs - don’t think I haven’t.”

“Oh, have fun finding them all. Why do you have multiple sizes of the same top hat?”

Lockwood shrugged. “Disguises. Why did you have so many photos of the head of the Fittes company?”

“Does it matter? You’ll be finding them for weeks.”

They finished their friendly bickering in hushed tones, Y/n standing up to let Lockwood sit down and balance her on his lap, and Lucy smiled softly at them. 

After wrangling the whole story of what had happened over the Christmas holidays out of the two of them, Lucy had spent roughly the last two and a half months teasing the living daylights out of the couple for their antics, but she couldn’t deny how cute they were together. 

She just hoped that the current poking in the sides they were doing didn’t turn into decking each other instead. 

Cut scene (alternative prank):

Now she was sat in her room in the attic, one leg hanging off the edge with the other folded underneath while she drew in her sketchbook. The creaking of the steps up to her floor alerted her to someone’s presence, and after a few seconds Lockwood’s head appeared, followed by his body. “Ah, Luce, thought I’d find you here.” He had something in his hand, shiny in a crinkly plastic bag. “I need your help to-” he broke off, mid-movement while he peered at one of the pictures on Lucy’s bedside table. It was of the five of them, Lockwood, George, Holly, Y/n, and herself, except in the place of Skull sat on the sideboard was Penelope Fittes’ face. “Oh for fuck’s sake. Did she put some of these up here, too?” Lucy struggled not to smile.

“Must have done it when I was in the kitchen earlier.” That was a lie, Lucy had done it herself. “What did you need me for?”

“Ah!” He lifted the plastic bag and grinned. “Doubloons. Not real ones, obviously, I bought them from a cheap party shop down the road. I’m going to hide them around the house.”

Tag list:

@strawberryloveyyy, @chameleon021, @genderfluid-anime-goth, @cottagecore-babe, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @a-taken-url, @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @rhysand-devorak, @a-candle-maker, @h0lyheck, @apple-bottom-jeans6, @icantwaittoliveandlearn

@neewtmas, @bobbys-not-that-small, @avdiobliss, @demigoddess-of-ghosts, @maraschinomerry, @lewkwoodnco, @uku-lelevillain, @oblivious-idiot

as always, if there is anybody who wants to be added to my lockwood tag list, then please go here!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

As the World Turns 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, imbalanced power dynamics, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your new job takes you to new places with lots of new people.

Characters: Nick Fowler, Jonathan Pine, Lloyd Hansen

Note: I know I shouldn’t have done this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

“I might hear you out,” Mr. Hansen, or Lloyd, sits back as he slurps from a rounded class of cognac, “as long as you bring this pretty little thing along tomorrow.” 

You chew quietly on a piece of lettuce and look around. You search the table for whatever he means, confused by the statement. Your eyes flick up to meet his and you gulp, realising he’s referring to you. Oh.  

He called you pretty but it just feels off. You give a tight-lipped smile and reach for your sparkling water. He brings his hand over the top to stop you as Fowler sighs. 

“She’ll keep the minutes,” your boss grumbles. 

“How about some wine, baby face?” Lloyd leans forward. 

“Uh, I don’t drink, thanks,” you answer sheepishly. You’d already told him as much but it hasn’t kept him from offering more than once. 

“Boring,” he mutters and retracts his hand. “Gonna be a long vacation if you don’t loosen up.” 

“She’s not on vacation, she’s working,” Fowler girds as he tosses his napkin on his plate. “You’re really gonna drag this out, aren’t you?” 

“Drag what out?” Lloyd winks as he sits back, gripping one leg as his other sways. 

“The deal.” 

“You gotta wine and dine before you get between my thighs,” the other man taunts. “What’s for dessert?” 

Fowler exhales slowly, jaw tense as he eyes the other man. You glance between them then over your shoulder. Maybe the server could bring the dessert menu. 

“You know I don’t sleep well in a strange land without someone to keep me warm--” 

“Cut it out,” Fowler warns his acquaintance harshly, “we got an early morning.” 

His chair scrapes as he stands, drawing your attention back to the table. You feel like you might wilt as you meet the heat of Lloyd’s fervent gaze. He has an elbow beside his plate, his glass in his hand as he hovers it before his mouth and stares. He sips then pokes out his tongue in a way that makes you nervous. 

Your wide eyes skirt over to your boss and you push yourself from your chair. 

“Just like you to cut the fun short--” 

“I was on a plane half the day, I don’t have the energy for you,” Fowler takes out his wallet and drops a wad of bills on the plate, “dinner’s on me.” 

“And I’d like dessert on me,” Lloyd harrumphs and drains his glass, slamming it down on the stem as he lets out a heavy sigh. He stands and tugs at his belt without shame. You sidle away and push the chair in, staying close to your boss. 

“We’ll talk more. I’m not leaving without a deal, Hansen.” 

“We’ll see about that,” Lloyd slaps his chest and stifles a belch behind his fist, “guess I'll hit the massage parlour again.” He rolls his neck and winks at you, “stiff from the flight.” 

“Come on,” Fowler ignores whatever inference his colleague makes and spins on his heel, then gestures to you, “let’s get going.” 

“Oh, uh, yes, sir,” you turn to follow. 

“Mmm, yes, sir,” Lloyd mimics in a purr as you prance off. 

You tap out next to your boss as he checks his watch. He raises his hands to swipe over his face and hair. He must be just as tired as you. Your excitement has dwindled to a low thrum and you’re ready to keel over. 

“I want my coffee at six. Got it?” He demands. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Call the front desk, have them send breakfast too. We’ll be heading off early.” 

“Yes, sir,” you echo again, barely keeping up with his fast march. 

“And wear a dress,” he says. 

Again, you affirm his command. 

He stops before a pair of double doors; wood carve in intricate patterns. He faces you and exhales, “do not fuck Hansen.” 

You’re stunned by the suggestion. You raise your brows and let your mouth fall open. You sputter and shake your head, “s-sir--” 

“Just don’t,” he warns. “Flirt with him but nothing more. Trust me.” 

“I wouldn’t--” 

“I’m not asking about your preferences, I’m giving you an order,” he turns to the door and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his card, “good night.” 

“Oh, er, good night, sir,” you back off awkwardly, still scalding from his assumption. 

You click down the hall in your shoes and frown. Does he really think you would do that? He said himself, you’re on a business trip. Sure, Lloyd was forward and unfocused but you didn’t encourage him at all. To be fair, you didn’t catch half of what he meant. 

You get to your room and stop, feeling around your clothing as your heart drops. Oh no! You can see the cards in your mind, sitting on the table inside the hotel room. Oh, gosh, you’re so stupid. 

You turn and face the hallway behind you. Of course you would lock yourself out. For everything that went so smoothly on your first trip abroad, something was bound to go wrong. Well, you’d rather this than be stranded in the middle of no where. 

You push away from the door and stroll back down the hall. You find your way back to the lobby. It's eerily empty as you peer around. The high ceilings are centered by a grand chandelier and the panels between the skylight panes are painted with elaborate patterns. The night peers down at your lone entrance, making the echo of your steps even more desolate.  

You go to the counter and raise your hand over the bell, wary of disturbing the peace. You tap it lightly but the ding is deafening. You wince and cry out as a body pops up from behind the counter like a jack-in-a-box. 

“Eek,” you touch your chest as the manager appears like an apparition. 

“Pardon me,” he puts his hands on the counter, “I was only just sorting through some things. Didn't mean to startle you.” 

“No, it's…it's fine,” you giggle as your fear dissipates, “I didn't expect such a quick response.” 

“Always at your service, miss,” he address you by your last name. You're flattered he remembers you. “And so I must ask how I can be of assistance.” 

“Right, er, this is kinda embarrassing,” you scrunch up your lips and look at the wall, “I locked my keys in my room.” 

“Ah, well, that's not the end of the world,” he waves away your worry.

You notice his jacket is disposed, folded over the unusued chair on it's tall legs, and his shirt sleeves are rolled to his elbows. He must be used to solitary nights.

“I'll come let you in.”  He reaches to his belt to pull out a white card, “now this is your first wish, you've only two more after.” 

You furrow your brow curiously and he gives an awkward grin, “a joke, of course. This genie does not count favours.” 

“Uh, thanks,” you murmur. 

He comes out from behind the desk and gestures you to come with him. You catch up as he strides breezily across the lobby. Your eyes wander the extravagant interior and you drift off in your imagination. What it must be like to work here every day. 

“And are you enjoying your time abroad thus far?” Jonathan asks. 

You snap back to the present and chuckle nervously, “sure, I... it’s nice so far but I haven’t been here very long.” 

“Mm, yes, well I do hope you find time among your business to explore. If you have an questions, I’d be happy to answer. I even have a few recommendations if you’re interested,” he offers. 

“Oh, thanks so much,” you swallow a yawn and flutter your lashes. He glances over at you as he strides on. 

“And did you enjoy the restaurant?” He prompts. 

“Uh yes, the food was delicious,” you chime. 

“I will let the chef know you said so,” he remarks, “if you are interested in the local cuisine, there is a shop not far from here which is a touch more genuine. Though I must warn you it is spicy fare.” 

“I love spice,” you smile blink long as another yawn nestles at the base of your throat. 

“Well, you will let me know when you try it if you like it,” he nears your door and brings the car up to slide through the slot, “you must be terrible exhausted.” 

He pushes the door open and holds it with his long arm, “just a little,” you agree, “thanks so much.” 

“Never to worry, these things happen,” he assures, “the nights are lonely and I don’t mind the task.” 

You smile as you step under his arm and turn in the doorway, “have a good night.” 

“You too, darling,” he returns, “be sure to put your key somewhere you won’t forget.” 

“Oh, yes, thank you,” you bounce on your feet and grab the door handle. 

He lets go and you shut the door gently. You give a big yawn and face the room. Thankfully, you left the lamp on. You leave your shoes by the door and rub your eyes as you stagger forward. You take out your phone to check your alarms and set it a bit earlier. You won’t be getting much sleep. 

🌍

You have Mr. Fowler’s coffee in hand as you stroll up to his door. You double-checked at the counter to make sure you didn’t misremember. You check your watch as you approach. Ten to six. You’re early. He’ll be impressed. He’s not very fond of lateness though you’re yet to test that yourself. 

You’ve done pretty well. You got yourself up, with help from a freezing cold shower to keep your eyes open, and you look pretty good. A peachy orange blouse and a grey skort. You’re ready for the day in your mary jane flats, sparing your arches the strain of heels. 

You knock and call through the door, “sir, I have your coffee.” 

You look at the cup. You had it made exactly as he always get. An americano with an extra shot. You think the caffeine is a bit much but you would never say so to him. He’s your boss, not the other way around. 

“Mr. Fowler?” You knock again as you stand in the hall, “it’s going to go cold--” 

The door opens suddenly and your fist nearly hits Mr. Fowler instead of the door. You retract and give a sheepish grin, “uh, good morning, sir,” you gulp. He has a towel crookedly clutched around his waist and he’s dripping wet. His stomach is hard and lined with muscle, tightly knotted and glistening with moisture. 

“It’s not six,” he snarls. 

“Sorry, sir, I'm early. Your coffee,” you extend your arm to offer him the cup, “they are bringing your breakfast shortly--” 

He grumbles and takes the cup. You let it go, hovering at the threshold as he keeps one hand on the towel. He inhales the scent of the espresso and tastes it with a moan of relief. He kicks the door shut and it snaps in your face. You step back and flinch. 

He’s right. You’re early. You caught him off-guard. That much is obvious. You can’t blame him for his mood. No one likes being interrupted during a shower. You back up and stand against the wall. You’ll wait. You have no choice. You know if you disappear, he’ll be even less pleased. 

Room service arrives shortly after and knock. Mr. Fowler lets them in, ignoring you as you linger, and the hotel porter leaves shortly after. You sway on your feet and check the time. 

Someone else might be annoyed but you’re too excited. The shine of the new place has yet to wear off. Even if you are working, the backdrop is enough to assuage any pitfalls. 

You check the time several times as you pace in the hall. You flatten yourself to the wall as another hotel denizen passes. You’re a bit awkward lurking there. You start to worry someone might see you and get suspicious. It is a bit strange to just be staring at a door. 

Before your doubts can get the best of you, the doors open and Mr. Fowler emerges in a white button-up and navy slacks. He forgoes his jacket and tie for the natural climate. His short hair is tidy and a light stubble trims his jaw. He checks the time on his wrist and signals with his index. 

“The car?” He demands. 

“The car,” you echo and your eyes flit back and forth. 

“The valet has the rental,” he snarls, “did you call for it?” 

“Sorry, sir, I...” you take out your phone and scroll, “I don’t see anything in the itinerary--” 

“Get the car,” he demands. 

“Yes, sir,” you wince and hurry ahead, “will do.” 

You scurry out of his sight and clamour into the lobby. You search around and see a new face behind the counter. Jonathan must be done his shift. You ask about the valet and they point you outside. 

You ask for Mr. Fowler’s car and wait near the ramp of the garage. You should’ve known. You booked the rental car and all that. You’re going to blame it on jet lag.  

Mr. Fowler appears at an easy pace, a hand in one pocket and the other around his phone. He doesn’t look up as he approaches. He stops a few feet away and sighs, once more peeking at his silver watch. 

“On it’s way, sir,” you assure him. 

He slips his phone into his pocket and squints at you. You give a shaky smile. You hate when he looks at you like that. It feels like he’s judging you. Well, he definitely is. 

“I told you to wear a dress,” he says as he reaches to touch the collar of your blouse. 

“Oh, sorry, sir,” you blanch. You must have forgot amid your late night chaos. You feel a surge of panic and quickly check your purse. You have your keys. “Do you want me to go change?” 

“It’s fine,” he turns you by your shoulders and pinches your top button. He undoes it and you try to look down at his hands, only to go cross-eyed. He clucks and undoes the next one, leaving the satin to hang low on your chest. “That will do.” 

You resist the urge to redo the button and you shrug, trying to hike fabric higher on your shoulders. You are overtly aware of your cleavage. It’s not very professional. 

“Sir,” you bring your phone up again, “I think my data isn’t working. I can’t see the itinerary.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he turns as a sleek black car pulls up before you, “just get in.” 

[l-starlight-l]

The love of a hero

Dinner for two

Master list

Part one, Part two

A/N: oh wow three post in one night, I must be a master writer. I wish.

Description: the red hood creeps up on you after work inviting you out for a heartfelt dinner together.

Warning: talk about messy families

Pairing: Red Hood x Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

:reference:

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You had finished up your sessions for the night and your boss had let you go home early, which was a delight. You had decide you were going to take the scenic route back to your apartment going through Gotham Park. Going this way always helped you clear your head after a stressful day. You had been in Gotham for almost two weeks now, you were settling in just fine. You made some friends at work including a tall, dark and mysterious vigilante you spent your smoke breaks with and some pretty kind neighbors. You smiled to yourself as you walked down the street towards the park.

“What are you smiling about” a familiar voice echos from an alley way next to you. You jump at the sound and slipped on the icy sidewalk. As you fall backwards a muscular arm is quick to catch you.

“Red!” You exclaimed angrily, “don’t sneak up on me like that”. You steadied yourself with his help.

He chuckled that deep chuckle that you loved. “Sorry sorry” he apologized, “what are you up to?” He asked once you were back on your feet.

“Im on my way home, I got off early tonight” you say still annoyed with him, “shouldn’t you be on patrol or something?” You ask with heavy attitude.

“Just got off” he says as he starts walking, you have to hurry to catch up, “you hungry?” He asks trying to play it cool.

Your cheeks heat at the thought of having dinner with him, “I could eat” you say, butterflies in your stomach.

He smiles and crosses the street quickly, “great, I know a good place close by”. You didn’t know if this was a good idea, you didn’t know anything about him, not even his name but you decided to take the risk and go with him.

He leads you into Gotham park and finally to a group of food trucks. There are a lot of people around but most only give a short glance to the vigilante casually getting a bite to eat. As you get in line to order you admire all the stickers on the truck, there seems to be a sticker from every city in the nearby area. A smile crosses your face as you think about how many different people have enjoyed this food.

The red hood removes his helmet, revealing his handsome features covered by a domino mask. You blush lightly and try not to stare. “My brother use to take me here all the time, they have the best food in Gotham” he says with a sour-sweet smile on his face. You admire the distant look in his eyes, desperate to know why.

“ I didn’t know you had a brother” you say quietly hoping for him to open up.

“I have quite a few siblings, they’re all handfuls and get on my nerves but they’re family” he says looking down at you, “how about you?” He asks with a raised eyebrow and a light eager look in his eyes.

You hesitate, you never talk about your family. Rarely to your close friends so definitely not to someone who’s practically a stranger, it was to much of a messy topic for you. You struggle to find the right words and luckily for you it’s time to order food. The two of you grab your fresh dinner and find somewhere quiet to sit.

There is silence between you and him, you squirm in it unsure if it is a pleasant comfortable silence or an awkward one. “I have brothers” you say quietly, “and someone who’s like a sister to me” you add not daring to look at him.

You can feel his soft smile with out having to see it, “are you guys close?” He asks

Your body tightens at the question, you debate how to answer it. “Not as close as we use to be” you explain with a sigh.

“Do they live close? Is that why you moved here?” He seems to be so eager to know more about you and it catches you off guard.

“No they don’t my dad would never let that happen. I know my younger brother lives in metropolis with him, but I’m not sure where the others are now a days” you admit sourly. A feeling of sadness creeps up your spin. You shudder and force yourself to take another bite of food. “I wish they lived close, I wish I knew them better” you say more to yourself than to him.

You look up at him and you can see a look of understanding in his eyes, like he knows exactly how you feel. “I basically live with my brothers and I still feel like I’m not close enough with them” he pauses and his lips knit together, “I just feel like I’m to much of an outsider to have a good relationship with them”

You look at him with appreciation, you like that he’s opening up to you like this. It makes you feel good like he trusts you. “We’re not so different then” you say finishing your food.

He nods his head, “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this, I just feel like I can talk to you” he looks into your eyes with such emotion it makes your heart skip a beat.

You let out a small laugh, “I tend to have that effect on people, it’s why I’m so good at my job” you smile up at him and you can feel the mood lighten. You were only joking but it did feel different listening to him talk. He didn’t feel like a patient, he felt more like a friend. “I don’t open up to my patients like I do to you though, thank you” you tell him while standing.

His cheeks heat but the blush does not form on his cheeks, so you don’t realize his sign of weakness. He likes the way you make him feel, and he wants to make you feel the same way. He wants to make you feel important and seen. He walks you back home to your apartment and on the way there you two continue to talk about your lives. You share stories about unique patients and he tells you about crazy missions he’s been on. Regretfully you two have to part ways, but you know you’ll see him again very soon.

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Word count: 1,072

Tags: @princessbl0ss0m @mxtokko @atadoddinnit

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[3-2-whump]

You Told Me It Had Stopped

<prev next>

Hi again, everyone! Ready for more pain and angst? (I wasn't asking!)

So hard to believe we're reaching the end of this story! With only five more chapters to go after this one (unless I cram in more story at the last minute), things are only gonna get crazier from here, but hopefully, it'll be just as satisfying as the last few chapters.

Shoutout to my amazing beta readers @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz , this chapter would not be what it is without them!

This chapter will have links within it referring you to previous chapters. If you have not read In Vino (et Venenum) Veritas or Tying Up Loose Ends, I'd highly suggest you give those a peek

TW/CW: slave whump, intimate whumper, manipulative whumper, emotional angst, prostitution, dehumanization, blackmail, referenced noncon, forced to watch (though not in the traditional sense)

“GOAL!” the announcer’s voice rang out over the laptop’s speakers.

Nico and Khaled cheered in unison as Portugal secured its place in the quarterfinals. Nico wrapped an arm around Khaled to hug him close, but a flash of purple from Khaled’s shirt collar stopped him.

Khaled sensed the change in atmosphere immediately. “Wait, what’s wrong?” he asked, his smile waning slightly.

“Is that a hickey?”

The sounds of cheering from a stadium half a world away were forgotten as Khaled’s smile dropped completely. He instinctively tried to adjust his shirt collar, but Nico grasped his hands in his own before he could. “Is that a hickey?” he asked again, tone serious.

Khaled nodded as his eyes turned downwards. Nico let go of his hands, frowning all the while. “I thought it had stopped,” he said, letting the disappointment creep into his voice. “You told me it had stopped, Khaled.”

“It did stop,” Khaled answered, eyes still downcast. “But then… it started up again…”

“I thought he was paying you to be his executive assistant-”

“Oh he is,” Khaled replied tersely, “and he’s paying me for this too.”

Nico faltered. “But, how –why –how could you?” Nico told himself the anger he felt was supposed to be for the Boss, and that he was misdirecting it at Khaled, who was already going through so much already. Though, if he was being completely honest with himself, his anger at Khaled wasn’t that misdirected. He was so, so tired of being lied to. “Fuck the money, why would let him do it again?!” he demanded.

“Why would I let him do it again? Do you think I have any choice in this?”

“No –yes –wait, no?” Nico shook his head. “I don’t know. What I’m trying to say is, you could’ve turned down the money, couldn’t you?!”

“Like fuck I could!” Khaled argued. “Are you the one saving up for his freedom? Don’t talk to me about money, Nico!”

“What good is money and freedom when it means losing your self-respect, and your friendship with me, Khaled?!”

Khaled made an exaggerated snort. “Some friendship we have! Remember when you took me out drinking, and I got so drunk I told you everything?”

Nico cringed at the memory, and more importantly at what came after. Khaled noticed his discomfort right away and dug his claws in deeper. “And do you remember when the Boss paid you off to keep silent about me, and you fucking took the bribe?”

“He was holding my tuition hostage-”

“Your tuition –he’s holding me hostage!”

“-That was not a bribe!”

Khaled ignored the minute distinction. “It still hurt, you know!” And then, he locked eyes with Nico. “My first and only friend since I was stolen to this awful place turned his back on me, and all I asked myself was why wasn’t I good enough, why wasn’t I worth defending!” Despite the black flames of vitriol in his eyes, Nico could see a faint, vulnerable sheen of tears. 

“Wait, shit, no-” he began to apologize. The damage was done as Khaled shoved his coat on and walked to the door. Nico belatedly reached out his hand. “I’m sorry, Khaled! I didn’t mean to hurt you like that! Come back-”

“Go fuck yourself!” Khaled cried. “It’s not like you want to be friends with someone who sells themselves, anyway,” he murmured angrily as he let the door slam behind him.

Nico was left all alone with his regrets as the game played on his laptop in the background.

-

Three days after they had that argument, and Khaled had not seen Nico for lunch since. That was entirely expected though. He had hurt his friend immensely, and, three days later, he was still no closer to coming up with a sufficient apology for what he’d said. He decided to at least add the new mark to his log, although he regretted not being able to snap a covert picture of it to add to his records. He ducked into his backpack’s inner pocket to retrieve his flash drive, where he made it a habit of storing all evidence of Khaled’s abuse for future reference.

It was not in the inner pocket.

Well, maybe it’s in the bottom of my backpack? Nico reasoned. He methodically took out each textbook and groped around the bottom, shining his cellphone light down there, too.

It was not at the bottom of his backpack.

Where is it?! Nico tore through his backpack, searching it thoroughly, even so much as to turn it upside down and shake it. He checked every desk drawer again and again, and emptied every pants and jacket pocket. Still no flash drive.

A chiming sound from his monitor signaled an email, a high priority one at that. Nico paused his tearing apart of the guard shack to view it.

One (1) new message from The Boss

Nico clicked it.

Looking for something? Meet me downstairs to retrieve it.

It was succinct, yet it elicited so much dread. He gulped.

As if crossing the parking lot late at night in the dead of January wasn’t creepy enough, Nico stood at the top of the stairwell leading to the infamous T & I cellar, feeling the winter’s chill even inside the brick and mortar walls of the mansion. Even from the top of the stairs it smelled like dried blood, and the dimness of the room below made it look as if the stairs descended into an abyss. He steeled his nerves and descended into the abyss, step by concrete step, painfully aware of how much noise his shoes made in the quietness of the empty building.

Even though he had seen the T & I cellar in the security footage, Nico realized nothing compared to being down there in person. Dusty, red bricked walls arched into a curved ceiling where two overhead lamps dangled unlit like limp, long dead jellyfish. The fireplace was concealed behind a large white sheet, stretched taut and glowing bluish white over the expanse of the wall. The opposing wall still boasted its rack lined with various instruments of torture out in the open. In the middle sat one large table with scratch marks furrowed into its edges, and large mottled stains of red that could be traced down to the concrete floors below. Nico thought he would be sick just looking at the bloodstains alone. There were chairs pulled up to that table, though, one of which was occupied by the boss Don Costa himself, looking mighty smug in the dimness of the room. Near the edge of the table was a projector and a laptop, operated by Khaled, who stood silently beside the table bearing his own bloodstains as if he weren’t affected at all. His dark brown eyes flitted to Nico once, possibly just to confirm he was there, before resolutely fixing back onto the laptop and projector in front of him. Nico couldn’t blame him for being mad at him still.

“Nico Clemenza,” Don Costa greeted, breaking the tension between the two friends, “do you have any idea why you’re here?”

I’m not in trouble, I’m not in trouble, I’m not in trouble -am I? Nico thought. That tone of voice and the whole context of meeting in the T & I cellar certainly seemed to contradict that. “You have something that I’m looking for, sir?” He didn’t mean for it to be asked like a question, but right now he wasn’t sure what the safe answer would be.

“That’s right,” his boss affirmed, smirking condescendingly. “I got a little tip-off from Bennie and Michael last weekend that you have been rather cagey about a certain flash drive.”

Dad and Uncle Mike? The last time Nico had seen them was when he’d just visited home last weekend. He had gotten into an argument with his uncle over Khaled’s treatment, and he had pushed his dad out of his room when he’d asked about the flash drive labeled ‘Saved Footage’. Did they go through my stuff when I wasn’t there? Did they find the flash drive and snitch on me?! He knew the oath of loyalty these men had taken, but the betrayal by his own family still hurt.

“I asked Khaled about it, but my poor pet didn’t seem to know what it was for, either,” the boss continued. “So you can imagine how he reacted –how both of us reacted, when we plugged it in and saw all that saved footage.”

Nico’s face paled in horror, eyes widening as he realized how years-worth of Khaled’s torture saved to his personal device must have looked out of context. He quickly turned to Khaled to beg for his understanding. “Khaled, I can explain, it’s not what it looks like!” he protested. His friend finally turned toward him, delicate lips downturned into a slight frown. “I don’t know what he told you, but please, believe me, I can explain!”

“Oh, we know what it looks like,” Don Costa sneered. “It’s funny, I always wondered why you were so interested in my slave, but now it makes perfect sense!” He laughed as Nico’s jaw worked up and down, sputtering in a pathetic attempt to verbally defend himself. Khaled meanwhile stayed still as a statue, focusing only on the laptop screen in front of him. “I could just get you your own once you graduate, you know, like as a graduation present. You don’t have to lower yourself to befriend mine.” He tilted his head toward the projector. “So, here you were, playing at being friends with my pet while stealing away all those moments caught on film the whole time, whether it be for your own pleasure or-” The older man raised his eyebrows as a mischievous sharpness glinted in those cold gray eyes. “-Maybe you’re uploading them somewhere for the pleasure of millions?”

Nico choked a little at the baseless accusation.

“But, whether you’re saving them for your personal spank bank or uploading them to a porn site, you are still called down here for violating your NDA,” Thomas concluded. He whipped out a stack of papers and dramatically slammed them onto the table, the impact echoing a bit in the otherwise silent room. Nico eyed the stack of papers warily. When he first started working for Costa Insurance, he did what anyone else would and skimmed the document for the right places to initial or sign. Now, as a nearly completed law student, he recognized the weight of the consequences that violating an NDA would lead to.

“Go on, have a seat.”

Nico approached the table like a death row convict on the way to his execution. He lowered himself into the chair and stared down at the document before him, thumbing through its pages as he now read every word. He obviously must have taken too long, as the man seated in front of him cleared his throat impatiently as he murmured, “Page eight, paragraph B.”

Nico flipped there. “There shall be no extraction or publication of client’s names, addresses, accounts, or other personal information outside the grounds of Costa Insurance,” he read aloud.

Before he could ask for an explanation, Don Costa turned toward his slave, who had remained silent throughout the whole thing. “Khaled, play February 9, 2018.” Khaled typed into the laptop almost robotically as he brought up the footage from the specified date. There, projected on the makeshift screen for all three viewers in the room to see, was footage of Khaled lying naked on the ground with his hands tied behind his back, a silk tie wedged into his mouth, and Jaime’s boot on top of his head. Nico recognized it from the Key Game era.

“See, there,” the boss pointed out, referring to a desktop screen in the peripheral of the video.

Nico scoffed. “But you can hardly even read that!”

“Nevertheless, there is sensitive client information on that computer screen that cannot leave these grounds.” He nodded toward Khaled. “September 24, 2018.” Khaled obeyed, his face a calm mask of detachment as he pulled up another video of his own tortures. The next scene featured Khaled, on his knees, sucking off Nico’s uncle as he and the Boss talked business. “There, on the coffee table,” Don Costa directed him. The list of phone numbers was slightly more legible than the previous leak of sensitive information. A pit of dread opened in the bottom of Nico’s stomach. How many more of these videos coincidentally contained sensitive information in their periphery? Were they placed within the camera frame on purpose?

“Khaled, November 21-”

“I get it, I get it,” Nico objected, palms raised up. “I fucked up, I get it. So, what do you want me to do about it, sir?”

Don Costa’s mouth upturned into a sickening grin. “Easy! Destroy the flash drive, take down whatever videos you posted, and, should this data leak come to bite us in the ass one day, take full responsibility for it and resign,” he explained.

Destroy all the evidence? Nico gulped. He wasn’t keen on losing years’ worth of documented human rights abuses, but he also didn’t want to deal with the threat of litigation.

“What are you willing to give to see Khaled happy and free, as he should be?” Julio’s question haunted him. Nico summoned his courage to look the bastard in the eyes. “And if I refuse?” he asked.

Khaled visibly perked up, shooting a questioning glance at Nico’s rare moment of defiance. Meanwhile, the smile dropped off Thomas’ face. “Then I reenact every single thing I’ve done to Khaled that you’ve saved on that little flash drive of yours,” he threatened. Khaled’s attention focused back onto his master, and although Nico may have imagined it, the young man trembled. “You have years’ worth of footage, and the night is still young.”

“You’re bluffing,” Nico replied, ignoring the certainty in his mind that this man was not bluffing. “You nearly killed him last spring when you carved his back open! Are you really going to take that risk again?”

The boss merely shrugged. “He survived the last time, why not?” he asked nonchalantly.

Khaled’s face paled, taking on a sickly color as his trembling worsened. Nico folded. “Okay, okay, fine!” The last thing he wanted to see was Khaled getting tortured and knowing he could’ve stopped it. Nico thrust forward a reluctant but outstretched palm. “Give me the flash drive, and I’ll smash it right here,” he promised.

Khaled breathed an almost-imperceptible sigh of relief, but the boss stopped him just before he could unplug the flash drive. “Wait, before you smash it, I just gotta know…” He smiled conspiratorially at Nico. “What part was your favorite?”

-

Nico waited patiently for the phone on the other end to pick up that night, drumming his fingers against his desk as he overlooked the city from his bedroom window. Eventually, the repetitive ringing was replaced by a very loud Pitbull remix, followed by a heavily accented “Alvarez Auto and Motorcycles, what do you want?”

“Yeah, can you tell me my status on my radiator hose? Did you use a 9-mm wrench?” Nico asked, well-practiced in the Juicio Divino code by now. The person who had picked up the call fell silent, the music thumped on in the background, and eventually a new voice carried over the phone.

“What are you calling me for, I told you only to call me if it was an emergency!” Julio yelled. There were light shuffling sounds, and then no background music at all, an indication that Nico’s partner in crime had moved to a more private place to talk.

“We need to try to kill him again,” Nico explained, getting straight to the point. “Things are getting worse on my end.”

“Worse, what do you mean worse?” Julio’s breath hitched a little. “Does he know you’re working with me?!”

“No, he –he found my flash drive,” Nico explained. “Made me destroy it. That’s four-ish years of evidence, gone.”

Julio went silent for a couple seconds before coming to the same conclusion. “You’re right. We need to kill him again. And this time, I won’t miss.”

“We won’t miss,” Nico corrected. “We’re in this together, partner.”

The static-y sigh on the other end of the line made Nico’s heart do something weird and tingly. “Yes we are,” Julio conceded. He hung up. Nico brought the phone down from his ear and caught his own reflection in the window. He was smiling.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@defire

[your-nanas-house]

I saw your post about writing for Poirot and would you take requests (happy to make it more platonic ofc!) 👀

I do take requests! 🤭🍓 Sorry for the late reply I wanted to put a small imagine with my answer.

Sweet sad memories

◇ Pairing: Hercule Poirot X assistant!Reader

◇ Warnings: it can be seen or platonic or romantic (you choose how to see it), mention of sadness, illness and memories

◇ Summary: Hercule Poirot brings his new assistant with him on the Orient Express.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

As Hercule's eye lingered— with a certain affection— on your cleavage, focusing on the necklace you kept always around your neck, his thoughts flought back to Katherine, his beloved lady, the woman with whom he shared his most intense love.

He was lost in the memories just like his eyes when you opened your mouth, letting all your excited self out

"Mr. Poirot!" You greeted cheerfully, referring to your boss with his last name

"How's your room?" you added with a soft smile, you knew that he was feeling a bit ill that day and offered to help him put his things in his train bedroom but he refuses since he was too much of a gentle man.

The old man snapped out of his thoughts as soon as your voice reached his ears— he smiled warmly, glad to have such a positive friend beside him during that travel, but still lost a little in his memories.

"Very convenient... very luxurious... and yours?" He asked politely, his accent pretty heavy as he talked

"It's lovely!" You beamed, smiling excited "It's the first time I have a room in a train" you revealed as you watched the people pass by with enthusiasm before looking back at him

"I'm kind of hungry, would you like to come and eat something with me? We can head to the restaurant car" you offered with a smile.

Hercule smiled a bit more at his friend's enthusiasm, his expression was kind of tired and sad though

"I would be delighted. I am hungry too... But you go ahead and I will follow you... I need few minutes in the bathroom. My stomach is not very happy today" he informed you elegantly, noticing how your face showed a bit of worry

"I will fetch you a herbal tea then, Mr Poirot"

Hercule smiled warmly at you, then entered his room carefully— but not before looking again, with affection, at your necklace.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter

[chlorinecake]

your first impression of your moots and your impression now?

took me a while to get to this but here’s my long asf answer 🐈‍⬛

@angel1kisses ✮⋆˙ idk, something abt her blog jst INSTANTLY captivated me, like… even before I saw what she looked like, I knew she’d be a baddie 😏 in simple word tho, jst think of every high school stereotype (minus jock) but in one person. that’s how chaotic her energy was to me 😭 and it’s the same way now… gotta love my random and smexy wifey huhu 🤭

@nikisdubblchococake ✮⋆˙ meme material. she had an asian santa pfp when I first saw her account 😭 so I figured she would have an interesting sense of humor. she also used a lot of slang and meme references whenever we texted, but I just loved her energy from the beginning, and I knew we’d end up being really close friends like we are now 🫶 my copium 💯

@minhosimthings ✮⋆˙ okay so… mona left an interesting first impression on me… I was honestly a bit intimidated by her in the beginning 😳?? I just didn’t feel worthy/brave enough to talk to her at first 😭 like… she had a very quirky, mysterious, and boss bitch vibe all around ~~ but when I finally got to know her, she’s literally such a sweetheart :( like Ik we’re partners in crime but she seriously stole my heart… ❤️‍🩹 my jagi… all mine 🫂

@starrywonie ✮⋆˙ y’all. I’m abt to embarrass the hell out of myself when I saw this, but I was literally OBSESSED with Nana when I first found her page (way before I started writing myself) ~ like, i honestly thought she was older than me bc I just looked up to her as THE Jungwon fan page. now after getting to know her tho, she’s literally a walking wonie 🥲 the cutest bby ever 🫶

@candewlsy ✮⋆˙ okay soooooooo, i didn’t really have a first impression of Mizu bc as soon as I discovered her blog, we were talking and texting on discord the next day 🤪 !! but from that, i can say she has a very lovable and sociable nature… always willing to learn more abt a person while also sharing things abt herself... can't forget how much she loves her cowboys, too 🤠

@wonfilez ✮⋆˙ i discovered her blog during my yandere phase and boy when I tell you she had me hooked with "beautiful monster" 🫠 I just admired how talented of a writer she was (even though that was the only work I'd read by her at the time, it was enough to make me a fan 😭)... aside from the past though, once I finally got to meet her, I admired her bubbly personality 🫶

@enmayz ✮⋆ ˙ I just never felt confident/worthy enough to speak to or even follow Mira 😭 ... just from seeing the way she'd talk about her moots on her blog, I could immediately tell she had such a beautiful soul, and anyone close to her was literally so lucky, like- now tho? don't even get me started on her voice... her looks... her charisma ??? the girl just slays, I tell you...

@jaylaxies ✮⋆˙ enhabler's disney princess right here ☝️. I don't know what it is abt Aria, but she just radiates such royal energy??? like, as crazy as it sounds, I'm pretty sure she sparkles like diamonds or smth, bc she's literally a celebrity. an ICON, I tell you. but aside from my fangirling, she really is a sweetheart. very humble, very chill... yeah, she just slays like that 😌

@hoondrop ✮⋆˙ intimidating part 2. I always felt like a peasant whenever I saw Moon’s blog, like- it seemed disrespectful for me to even scroll through her posts 🤡 idk if it was just the aesthetic of her page, but she genuinely seemed ethereal to me. and even now after speaking with her a few times, she’s like an older sister 🥲 cool, chill, while still being relatable, just in a mature sense 🫠

@takiberry ✮⋆˙ miss renè... from the day she followed me, I didn't even bother checking out her blog because I HAD ALREADY BEEN STALKING NGL 🤡 she just seemed so vibey from the way she responded to her fans, plus, not a lot of creators on here write abt &team, so I was like, yes, let's be friends !! now tho, I see her as the lucky friend... blessed with good looks, a sweet personality and the opportunity to talk to ej 🥲 she's just THAT girl ~~

@rowretro ✮⋆˙ even though we just became moots closer towards the end of this year, I had to include Rowan on this list because she's just so cool and bubbly, and I've already had sm fun getting to know this cutie patootie over the past few days and I can’t wait for our friendship to blossom as time goes on :)

@squoxle ✮⋆˙ this beeyatch just gets on my nerves, honestly... from the moment I saw her as a baby in the hospital, I knew she would be the death of my 9 month streak of peace. but to look on the bright side... actually? there is no bright side 😔 only darkness... my impression of her remains the same, tho. she stinks, she's ugly, and HELLA annoying XD

@microwvdstrawb3rri3s ✮⋆˙ when I first saw her account, I didn't really form an opinion abt her bc I saw her as a follower than anything. but once we started talking more frequently, I swear she's like the cutest little sister ever 🥲 so endearing, energetic, and sweet... like, it genuinely makes my day every time I see one of her silly asks or just a random "hello" message in my dms !!

@cheruluv ✮⋆˙ if I'm remembering correctly, I first met Iya when she asked abt one of my yandere fics, so I just assumed right out the gate that she'd have more of an edgy personality, but when I actually got to know her, she's such a ray of comfort ❤️‍🩹. I mean, she's literally a human version of a my little pony character. just so nice and friendly all the time... 🫠

Side Note: This year has been TRASH to say the least (won’t get into the details because the haters are waiting to celebrate my misfortune)… But ever since I started this blog in early August, I’ve never felt happier, like…. ever 🤑!!! So I just wanna thank all of my precious mooties for literally just existing (?) and getting me through some of the toughest moments in my life this year… obviously I’m religious, so I gotta give credit to the LORD too 🧎‍♀️ but knowing you guys is such a slay for me. Legit feels like I’m winning at life… but anyway, Happy New Year to all of you lovelies 🫶🫶🫶 and special thanks to @ashgonedash (the original gangster... kudos to this queen for requesting blood on ice 🫡), and @yourmomscuntis2tighy (my highness... MEGA props for coming up with the convenient chances plot, like HELLO???)... these two girls have supported my goofy ahh blog since the beginning, and I will always remember y’all baddies for that :3 Take care and stay safe !! MUAH 😽 Love, Chloé 🩵