#gonna make my pinned a bit more orange too later:3

[angelicanvas]

woah!!! your title and accent colour turned orange!!!

i turned into an orange!!!!!!! yayay!!!!!!!!!!

[acaplaya-musings]

Voiceplay Visuals - You're A Mean One, Mr Grinch

Jumping ahead by two years now into 2020 (figured I wouldn't have much to say about Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas, sue me), to when VoicePlay released their cover of You're A Mean One, Mr Grinch. This wasn't actually released in December, but in fact the 27th of November! (eh, close enough).

You might have heard at some point in your life that the original singer of You're A Mean One Mr Grinch was also the voice of Tony The Tiger, the Frosties Cereal mascot. Well that man was Thurl Ravenscroft, a name you should be at least somewhat familiar with if you know Geoff's solo content (see my post (linked here) on Headless Horseman for a little more info). And so who better to sing lead vocals on this than the modern-day Thurl Ravenscroft himself, Geoff Castellucci? Geoff was also in charge of both the song arrangement and the video for this! Good for him! And of course this features the lovely Adriana Arellano, in her second ever VP collaboration since the Frozen 2 Medley in December 2019.

There's a strong chance I may hit image limit for this one - so much to screenshot and talk about! But let's get started and see how I go!

Let's start off by acknowledging the obvious: The VoicePlay 'Who's'! I.e. the guys plus Adriana done up like residents of Whoville, just like in the movie! (Or movies, I suppose, since there are 3 film iterations of the Grinch movie now)

I've seen/heard a range of opinions on the "Whoville Look" from reactors. Some were like "aww how cute/cool! Just like the movie!" Whereas some think it's just a bit strange (myself included, lol rip). But regardless, it's very professionally done, and shoutout to Makeup and Creative Arts (which I believe includes Rick Underwood?) for it!

Also I'll leave my thoughts on clothing for later screenshots, but I happened to be looking at their footwear here, and it's a little amusing to me that I commented on Eli wearing black sneakers with thick white soles in Mission Jingle Bells (just like in Creep and In The Air Tonight), because guess what shoes he's wearing here!

(Also is it just me or does Geoff wear boots a lot? I'm gonna have to start paying more attention to his footwear in videos, lol)

"Hey Grinch, you're a triple-decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich... with arsenic sauce!!"

Not a visual thing but I couldn't help but call attention to the fact that J's line here is in fact lifted almost fully verbatim from the last line of the original version, from a verse that's not included in VoicePlay's cover (though they include all the rest of it, more than the live action movie does).

Okay I probably could grab some additional amusing screenshots from this opening banter bit, but eh, there's plenty of other stuff in this video to talk about anyway.

Okay, outfit talk time!

Layne: Not sure what the deal is with the pink and black shirt is but I don't totally hate it, and the white suit jacket is nice (and becomes especially fitting later in the video). And of course I have to mention the little carrot pin on the lapel! Carrot Lord for life! 🥕

Eli: I like the jumper! (Or "sweater" if you will). I kinda want it ngl, except I'm much more of a jacket person, and I wouldn't be able to wear it in December anyway - too hot!

Adriana: Am I only just now noticing that her top thing shows her midriff? Maybe. The makeup is cute (makes the 'Whoville' makeup stuff look a bit less weird), and the knee-high boots with the jeans are a Look ngl.

J None: Aqua/turquoise jumper (or sweater) with blue jeans and black boots. What can I say? Next!

Geoff: This dude loves wearing scarves, apparently! Wore one in Baby Its Cold Outside, in the Frozen 2 Medley, and also in his cover of White Christmas, which I'll be eventually be getting to! Also a green scarf over an orange shirt? This is colourful for him! 😁 (Oh and obligatory tick for both smartwatch and wristbands!)

(Also the fact that they didn't include the Welcome Christmas bit in the MP3 track or make it its own mini track is a crime ngl)

The big green man (creature...thing...) is here! Time for the actual song to begin!

Also Geoff looks so confused here pfft

From confused to scared? You good there Geoff? 😂

"Well you were flat! And... stinky!"

We have no clue who The Grinch is, just that he was "provided by Makeup And Creative Arts", and he's a hired actor or something? Whoever he is, he did so good in this video - utterly hilarious, absolutely nailed it!

That's a bit more like it!

Also Geoff wearing something red! Another rarity! (And like most times, he looks fantastic)

I love the grin that Geoff has for most of this video, makes me so happy 💜

That cake was real, apparently - there's a credit for it in the description, says it was provided by "Quarantine Dessert Company" (so a fairly young business then, given this video was made in 2020)

Apologies for the blur shot but I wanted to point out how The Grinch taps Adriana on the shoulder, and then very quickly his hands come up from the bottom of the frame and grab the cake, so quickly in fact that there's a few frames, like this one, where both The Grinch and his hands are in the shot at the same time! How? Is it editing trickery? Nope! It's actually just one of the VoicePlay guys (can't remember who - it might've even been Kathy) wearing "Grinch gloves" to do the stealing (the benefits of me now being a VP Patron! Access to BTS knowledge!)

Eli Eyebrow Raise! It's been a while <3

Also he's definitely worn that hat in a fair few videos - Top 10 Disney Villains, Frozen 2 Medley, Rich Man/Girl, just off the top of my head (new photo compilation idea - recent-ish appearances of Eli's bucket hat turned fedora /j )

ELI! Why would you smell it?? 🤣

When Mortius reacted to this video, he made a comparison between this scene and the "Dead Dove: Do Not Eat" scene (from Arrested Development??) that became a meme, and yeah that's pretty much it! What did you expect?

Aw, shoutout to Layne <3

(Also nope not doing a screenshot for the "termites in your smile" line, I don't care that they're fake!)

Pfft, Grinch looks so happy with himself!

Also give the rubiks cube to me! I'll solve it in like 2-3 minutes! Hell, I often solve a 5x5 Rubiks Cube for fun and relaxation while watching YouTube, and I can sometimes get it solved in under 7 minutes!

"More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, and they whistled and shouted and called them by name!" "..."

This bit is of course not from the original Grinch song, but actually part of the poem A Visit From St Nicholas, aka The Night Before Christmas. Given this was Geoff's arrangement, I have to assume this was Geoff's addition (and let's be honest, it's on brand, lol)

(Also I love how Eli and Adriana are looking to the left, in the Grinch's actual direction, but J and Layne are still looking ahead, and Geoff is looking to the right 😂)

Ayyyy

"Oh, erm, *ahem*, On Max!"

(Also if I had a nickel for everytime VoicePlay did a song from an animated movie where Geoff was on lead and Layne dressed up as the movie protagonist's dog, I'd have two nickels? Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice)

"You need a baaaathhh! Yeah!"

Oh these idiots, god I love them 😂💜

"Your heart's a dead tomato, splashed with moldy purple spots" (yes, also lyrics from the original version)

(AND if I had a nickel for everytime Voiceplay released a video in 2020 where Layne pretended to be a silly chef/waiter, complete with silly French accent, I'd again have two nickels)

If you know my posts, you should know that I love when Geoff gets to belt out a line in a video, and well, I definitely do! 😁

Yes! Sing it!

Grinchy has had ENOUGH! 😝

(Also I only just realized when planning out the post in my head earlier today that Geoff is the only onethat The Grinch doesn't really mess with (despite him being the lead singer of the song!)

Ah bless <3

"Alright get off me... Too long!... This is embarassing."

(Grinch honey I would happily swap places with you in a heartbeat! Embrace the embrace!)

Okay, I just managed to scrape in underneath the maximum image limit for a post, with no need to "economize", thank goodness! More fun posts to come! Until next time!

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

it’s almost 4am and i can’t sleep so

1. default answer is Rick but to give an response that isn’t leading with my pussy i’d say summer. her development is so interesting and i love seeing her be a badass and i hope we get more of her soon

2. Space Beth has to be the clone. Too tired to elaborate might make a separate post later

3. Tough, since C137’s whole spiel in the final episode of S6 implied that they were at least friends, but alongside the “forgetting the ice cream” bit earlier in the season… I want to say yes and that’s what the writers are alluding to, but if Beth Twinstinct never happened I would’ve said that the writers would never have done that. However Rick is not just one of the main title characters, he’s a man, and I think Twinstinct might’ve been greenlit for a bit of fetishization especially if we take in mind the majority stereotypical r&m fan base, reddit would be pissed so i really don’t know

4. “Good” in the spirit of the show, tamanthaperson or cloaca. “Good” as in an actual good name? idk maybe Ashe (phoenix person reference)

5. i think i read something about a 70 episode deal before season 4 or 5 came out, we get about 10 maybe 12 at most per season, so like 10 season maybe? it’s late and i’m no good at math. but i’d rather have a fully thought out story and conclusion with an appropriate amount that will fulfill that. i wouldn’t mind a prequel spin-off series either tbh

6. smash smash smash check out the fanfic pinned on my page if u feel the same (read tags pls)

7. maybe a bad take but story lord! i love both episodes he’s in and all that he represents especially as a writer that sucks at villains

8. so many favorites!! i love Mortyplicity. despite being later in the series it felt “old school” Rick and Morty and i loved the way the whole storyline unraveled. it’s a comfortable fun favorite, like rickshank redemption or the citadel episodes (not necessarily comfortable subject matter some of them). i absolutely adore the diehard episode in season 6 and how it poses the issue of leaving parts of morty’s consciousness behind. absolutely love it. my uncomfortable ish favorite is the pissmaster episode, because it was art and i’m too tired to elaborate. i was really relieved to find that he wasn’t a robot during that point.

9. when i started the show i wasn’t a huge fan of rick potion #9 except for the ending, i didn’t really know why. now, i think it’s a tie between the chuds/sperm ordeal and the episode in season 1 with king jellybean that just makes me uncomfortable in a bad way

10. least favorite character i guess would be tammy? her stuff wasn’t very fleshed out and felt out of nowhere but it’s not a huge deal to me.

11. ricks done a lot of shit obviously. i have a shit memory but i guess id say the reveal in the season 6 premiere with the time loop in his original dimension. that’s pretty fucked up. obviously his family gets treated not well all the time, especially morty, but to take that out on the whole world was pretty jarring for me

12. I don’t know. obviously the main two characters have iconic voices, but i don’t think it’s impossible to find people that can imitate them well. i’m gonna hope the studio does the best for the show and we’ll see how it goes. i’ll def miss the old voices if the new ones are that much different, but fuck roiland.

13.can’t think of names but my mutuals :)

14. summer for sure. being the older sister, the only girl, feeling left out, and navigating teen girlhood was ass and i can’t imagine the sci fi bs on top of that.

15. no clue what my answer would’ve been previously but earlier today i was high and absolutely lost my shit over the season four (?) premiere moment between hologram rick and morty about food. “bologna and an orange” is now my favorite response, because imagine just eating that that’s fucking rough

16. best is subjective obvi, my favorite seasons were 3&4 and most of 5

17. worst is also subjective, so i’m going to say that season 2 is the most forgettable. i know the premiere is the time cop debut, and that total rickall happens, otherwise not much comes to mind and that’s likely my fault anyway

18. that’s tricky. i’ve loved the show for so long and can also recognize that other people work on the show as well. id be very disappointed and a little angry because i cannot excuse what roiland did or believes in, so i don’t know. i’m just hoping for the best and that that doesn’t happen.

19. multiple are memorized. as of 4:18am the ones i can recall besides my new favorite in response 15, “your boos mean nothing i’ve seen what makes you cheer” “a vat of fake acid are you dying of dementia” “who wants pill soufflé!?”

20. probably jerry. he did some growing and can prob easily lay low

20 SHORT-ANSWER* RICK AND MORTY QUESTIONS FOR YOU:

*You can write long answers, if you'd like! Feel free to skip questions, too!

Who is your favourite Rick and Morty Character?

Which Beth is the clone: Domestic Beth or Space Beth?

Do you think that Rick-C137 and Rick Prime were previously romantically involved?

What do you think would be a good name for Birdperson and Tammy's daughter?

How many seasons do you think Rick and Morty will eventually have?

Rick C-137: smash or pass?

Who is your favourite Rick and Morty villain?

Your favourite Rick and Morty episode?

Your least favourite Rick and Morty episode?

Who is your least favourite Rick and Morty character?

What is, in your opinion, the worst thing that Rick C-137 has ever done?

Do you think that Rick and Morty will be affected substantially by having to change the voice actor for Rick and Morty and a bunch of other characters?

What's a good Rick and Morty blog?

Who is the Rick and Morty character that you relate to the most?

The funniest Rick and Morty bit/scene, in your opinion?

Best Rick and Morty season?

Worst Rick and Morty season?

Would you stop watching the show if Justin Roiland returned?

Your favourite Rick and Morty quote?

If you had to be one member of the smith family in the next season, who would you want to be?

[hikato-chan]

howdy

cinnamon rolls i'm gonna type out because my printed copy is a mess by now

Ingredients:

(makes 1 9x13" pan/12 cinnamon rolls)

---DOUGH---

1.25 teaspoons active dry yeast

3/4 cup/6 fluid ounces/170 grams warm water

0.25 teaspoon sugar

1/2 cup/4 fluid ounces/113 grams warm milk (doesn't need to be super warm if the water's hot enough and you mix them together before adding)

1.5 teaspoons honey

2 tablespoons/1 fluid ounce/30 grams vegetable oil

1.25 teaspoons salt

about 4 cups/16 ounces/480 grams flour, plus more as needed

---FILLING---

1 tablespoon cinnamon

1/2 cup/3.75 ounces/105 grams brown sugar

2 tablespoons/1 ounce/28 grams butter, melted

about 1 tablespoon/0.5 ounce/14 grams butter, softened

Instructions:

Mix together yeast, water, sugar, milk, honey, and vegetable oil. Set aside for a bit to let the yeast activate. Add in 3 cups/12 ounces/360 grams flour, pour salt in on top of flour. Mix with a spoon/dough hook if you have a stand mixer (or your hands if you're good getting messy) until cohesive. Continue kneading, adding more flour as needed, until dough is smooth, soft, and only slightly sticky. Place in a greased bowl, cover, and set in a warm place to rise until doubled.

Ideal temperature for this is about 80-85 degrees Fahrenheit, but it's not too picky. It'll take up to several hours if it's on the cold side, closer to an hour if it's warm.

When dough is just about ready, mix together cinnamon and brown sugar in a small bowl. Make sure the butter's melted and ready.

Turn out the dough onto an oiled countertop or rolling mat. Stretch, pat, or roll into a 12x16 rectangle. (I never really need a rolling pin for this, it should be pretty soft and relaxed.) (The rectangle can be longer, for taller cinnamon rolls, or taller, for thinner spirals. You pick!)

Brush/pour/smear melted butter onto the dough, making sure to get all the edges and corners. Sprinkle cinnamon sugar mixture onto dough evenly, leaving one edge with about 1/2" free. Starting at this edge, roll dough up into a tight cylinder.

Using a sharp serrated knife (preferred) or floss/thread, cut or garrote the cylinder into 12 rolls. You can do more if you like mini and short rolls, or less if you want gargantuans, but it might affect the cooking time.

Using the softened butter, grease a 9x13" pan. Place rolls in a 3x4 grid in the pan. Cover and let rise until puffy. Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit.

Once rolls are puffy, bake them in the preheated oven for 30 minutes. (Underbake by maybe 5 minutes if you plan to reheat them for later service.)

Cool in pan.

OPTIONAL CREAM CHEESE TOPPING:

(makes idk how much, this recipe lives only in my head and is based purely on vibes)

Get some cream cheese out, maybe 1/3 to 1/2 what you want the final volume of the frosting to be. Also, about a quarter as much butter as there is cream cheese. Let 'em sit on the counter until they're softened. You can make this with them straight from the fridge but it's a lot harder on your hand/eggbeater/mixer.

Cream together butter and sugar until they're smooth and spreadable. Add in some orange zest (maybe 1/2 teaspoon? depends how much you like oranges) and vanilla extract (measure with your heart <3).

Shake in some powdered sugar? how much? beats me (ayoo). start with maybe 1/3 cup (about 40 grams), beat that in, taste it and see how you like it. I probably end up with about 1 cup total, but I cannot stress enough how much I have not kept track.

Beat in a little milk if you want the frosting to be thinner. Probably about 2 tablespoons. If you want it real thick, disregard. Keep in mind it'll stiffen if stored in the fridge, and get runnier if heated up (such as when being put on a warm cinnamon roll).

Taste the frosting. Add more of whatever you think it needs. Taste it again, just to make sure. maybe a third time just to double-check --okay nope that's probably enough tasting, time to actually use it.

Top a cinnamon roll with frosting! last time i ended up with about 30 grams per cinnamon roll (so about 360 grams of frosting in total)

enjoy! good luck stress baking! know that your request was much appreciated by all!

Thank you so much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am so very tempted to make them right now, I think I have all the ingredients here, but it's evening over here and I have to get up early.

But it also sounds so much fun to do!!!!!

[op-imaginesandmore]

Well howdy again! I was wondering if you could do a scenario with Law sitting with his s/o while they are getting their first tattoo? And a scenario of Zoro training with s/o and it turns into cuteness :3

I know it’s been *checks notes* actual years since I have touched this blog, but I kinda wanted to try my hand at a few of the asks I have in my inbox. Because these are both characters I am comfortable writing for, I shall do two scenarios *jazz hands*. I know it won’t be worth the wait, because nothing is worth over two years of waiting, but I hope it is enjoyable nonetheless! And for those of you who enjoy this and my writing, thank you! My inbox will not be re-opening for the foreseeable future though, I don’t want to get anymore people’s hopes up.

Pairings: Law x GN!reader in the first, Zoro x GN!reader in the second

Warnings: Fluff, mild smut (a little bit of spice, then the teasing of spice), tattoos, tickling, non-beta’d (if that counts as a warning)

***

Law:

The gentle buzzing of the tattoo gun had become almost cathartic in the years Law had been doing the art on the side. His crew had thought it ridiculously cool that he did most of his own tattoos, and had insisted he do theirs too. Bepo was heartbroken over the fact that no matter how much he shaved, the pirate insignia permanently on his neck never seemed to be completely visible because of his thick fur.

He had shrugged nonchalantly at all of his crew’s requests, a small hint of a smile upon his easy going face as he went to collect his gun, ink, and needles.

Then you asked him, a smile on your soft lips as you kissed him down his bare chest, blankets tangled between your legs.

“Wanna pop my tattoo cherry?” You had teased, biting him playfully on the shoulder and eliciting an almost purr from the feared surgeon “I’ve always wanted to see how those hands feel” a kiss to his neck “making a masterpiece on virgin skin” a bite to the shell of his ear, and he growled, flipping you onto onto your back. A giggle escaped you, and then a pleasured moan as his skilled, slender hands played along down your body and teased at your most intimate parts.

“Where and when, but I get to pick the masterpiece and where I put it”

A soft sigh had escaped from you as he bit down on your collar and sucked. All you could do was give a flustered nod, face hot against his cheek as he kissed higher and higher before claiming your lips with his own, a smirk playing on his features.

And now, here you were, eyes watching the concentrated look of his clenched jaw as he tattooed your shoulder. You were laying on your belly on his bed, shirtless and hiding your winces in your forearms.

He had insisted it be a surprise, an uncharacteristic excitement alighting in his eyes as he teased you about it. You were excited too, trusting him to give you something you’re sure will be perfect.

The buzzing of the tattoo gun stopped, and he seemed to pause a moment after giving it a gentle swipe to rid it of the excess ink. You watched as he worried at his thumb, biting it between his teeth in thought before taking a deep breath.

“Okay, let’s get you a mirror.”

He actually sounded a little nervous. You smiled encouragingly at him, taking his offered hand and walking to the full length mirror he kept in his room on the ship. He handed you a smaller mirror to get a better angle of it, and you got your first glimpse.

An awe filled smile spread like softened butter over your face.

It was the landscape of a familiar beach, far away on your home island, a sunset shining orange and pink over crystalline waters and Law’s ship haloed in the distance.

“Where we first met” Law rumbled behind you, watching closely at your reaction “I thought that you’d want a piece of home with you, always” he paused, a hand going to the dip of your hip, finger going into one of your belt loops and fidgeting with the fabric “do you like it?”

You breathed in, hand going to the tattoo and softly caressing the scene. A smile, soft and warm, threatened to split your face clean in two.

“I love it” you smiled, and put the mirror down and turned to face your lover, pressing your bare chest to his “almost as much as I love you”

They kissed, both smiling into each others mouths and you pounced, forcing Law to catch your legs as they wrapped around his waist. He chuckled into the kiss.

“Let’s wrap that up before we get carried away”

“But we are going to get carried away, yes?” You gasped as he nipped at your neck, his strong hold on your ass tightening.

“Oh kitten” he purred, his warm breath tickling your ear “I’m gonna have you begging for more when I’m done with you”

Zoro:

“What page are you on?”

You glanced briefly at the bottom corner of the page you were currently reading.

“765”

“Okay, cool”

And he continued the push-ups.

It had become somewhat of a routine for the two of you. Once you had already finished with your own training, excersized to the point of exhaustion, you would climb up to the library, grab a new book, and Zoro would do his cool down push-ups with you criss-cross on his back, reading your book to the point where your partner was satisfied, and you’d usually go down for dinner with him.

Today, though, you were feeling mischievous.

Marking the page you were on (869), you shifted slightly, fingers running softly through Zoro’s short locks.

The swordsman stopped as he came up from the push-up, head tilting slightly to pin you with a curious look. You gave him a teasing smile as you slid off his back and then slid under him. The look went from curious to unamused rather quickly as a blush creeped up his chest from the look you were giving him.

“What?” You asked innocently, teasing smile threatening to give away your intentions “training doesn’t have to be all push-ups and weight lifting” you looked up at him with a smirk “we can work on stamina, or if you insist, I can be your weights today.” Your fingers were roaming over the peaks and plateaus of his hardened muscles, the valley between each of his abs dripping with a hard-earned sweat from the thousands of push-ups he’d been doing. His face had softened from the unamused look he had been giving you, now he closed his eyes with a shuddering breath as your hands dipped low enough to graze the hem of his black pants.

He was right where you wanted him.

Quicker than Luffy’s fists, you tickled him - tickled him — just under his armpits where you knew he was sensitive. The great and powerful pirate hunter yelped, dropping on top of you in his surprise and eliciting a maniacal laugh of your own as he tried, and failed, to escape your ministrations, straddled on top of him now. The involuntary giggles you got out of him made you give a victorious laugh of your own, before your arrogance became your downfall. Quick as a whip, the swordsman flipped you onto your back, one of his large hands gripping both of yours in a vise like grip and the other one twitching in time with the vein in his forehead.

“You’re gonna pay for that” he seethed, an evil grin and a glint in his eye promising retribution.

Jokes on him cause you weren’t ticklish, which he found so frustrating he growled, only making you snicker and attempt to tickle him back when you freed yourself from his grasp. He dodged, smacking your hands away and attempting to leap up only for you to be on him like a damn spider monkey, wrapping yourself around him like gift wrap on a present.

You nuzzled into his neck, not sorry in the slightest, but wanting to be sweet now. He harrumphed like the grump he was, the image of the two of you, him sitting cross legged on the floor with his arms crossed over his chest and you wrapped around him a funny sight to behold. You bite at his ear and his lips twitched ever so slightly.

“If I say I’m sorry, will you still wanna have some fun?” You purred, a grin playing upon your lips. Zoro scoffed, the blush on his face deepening with every kiss and nip you laid upon his neck and you could feel him turning to putty in your arms.

But just as you thought you’d get your way, Zoro grinned conspirationally.

Before you knew what was happening, he had maneuvered his way out of your grasp and was walking towards the door, picking up his discarded shirt from the floor. He gave you a sidelong look, giving you an almost predatory smirk.

“If you’re good, maybe we can have some fun later when everyone else is asleep” he shrugged “I have first watch”

And then the bastard winked before opening the hatch and descending the ladder.

You blinked a few times, scoffed at the hilarity of being one upped for the first time in your long standing relationship with the Marimo, and scrambled after him down the ladder.

[y0itsbri]

kinktober day 3 -- lingerie @gallavichthings

the devil in disguise

ian has a deep appreciation for mickey's halloween costume.

beta read by @mishervellous ❤️

words: 1.3k

"when you said you wanted to do a couples costume, i thought you meant with me!" ian rifled through his closet, trying to put together a last minute costume while mickey changed in the bathroom into his costume so he could coordinate with fucking tami. ian could have been an angel, but no, that simply wouldn't do.

to be fair, ian should have seen this coming after lip decided to put in an ungodly amount of extra hours at the shop. tamietti's went hard for halloween, and this year was not going to be an exception. he cursed lip for inadvertently stealing his husband away from him for the night.

this was impossible. ian banged his head against the wall.

"you die out there, firecrotch?" mickey called, voice strained.

ian was thoroughly confused with whatever elaborate feat was going on behind the closed door.

"no," he called, hopeless. he tried again, "you need any help in there?" ian reached for the knob only to find it locked. motherfucker.

"aye no peeking!"

"are you almost done? i need your help," ian sat back on their bed, sinking into their mattress and tapping his fingertips along this thigh.

he couldn't decipher all of mickey's mutterings through the wooden barrier, but the 'jesus fucking christ fucking gallagher' was unmissable.

ian grinned devilishly. he was always in the mood for a grumpy mick.

mickey unlocked the door with a click and stepped out in a red blur, discarding his old clothes on the floor in his corner of their room as if ian's world wasn't currently being absolutely rocked merely three feet away.

it took mickey a moment to realize that his normally chatty husband had yet to say a word. shit. maybe ian didn't like this kind of thing.

he bit the bullet and faced ian head on, only to meet a love-shook caricature of his husband -- wide eyes, blushing cheeks, and mouth agape, damn near salivating.

oh.

mickey smirked and flexed his arms not so subtly, "what d'ya think?"

ian unfroze from his trance, caught. he groaned and flopped back onto the bed, lifting his head and peeking at mickey between his fingers, "you're going to fucking kill me."

because there mickey was. clad in a fucking red, silk, corset cut just for his body. the red ribbons crossing in the front, carving his figure in all the right angles.

after a moment of deep appreciation and an unexpected awakening, ian allowed his eyes to scan the rest of mickey, which wasn't bearing any better for his blood pressure.

sheer, fingerless red gloves were stretched across mickey's hands, faded knuckle tattoos still visible. the glint of his ring seemed more prominent all of a sudden.

ian's eyes made their way up his arm, chest, neck. a sequined devil horn nestled into his dark hair and reflecting the low light of their bedroom lamp, giving mickey a literal red aura.

enjoying the show, mickey spun around, biting his lip. ian continued to ogle.

red fishnet stockings covered mickey's muscled thighs under almost-too-short-not-short-enough leather shorts embroidered with orange flames. pointed wings attached with some elaborate belting situation between his shoulder blades, and an arrow tail slinking around his hips.

"i think this is hell," ian closed his eyes, willing the blood to go back to his brain by the sheer power of force.

mickey chuckled darkly. "that so? ian gallagher on the naughty list?"

ian cracked an eye open, "what are you, fuckin' santa claus now?"

mickey smacked ian's stomach as he sat on the bed next to his idiot of a partner, "fuck off, ho."

"don't you mean ho ho ho?" ian couldn't resist.

"and we're done," mickey made to stand up but ian caught him by the arm, sliding his hand down until he reached the hem of the glove, inching his own fingertips underneath and sliding against his skin. his voice went deeper in the way that he knew made mickey melt.

"lemme make a deal with the devil?"

he tugged and pulled mickey onto his lap so that he was straddling him, knees digging into the soft mattress.

"what does the mere mortal have in mind?" mickey teased, voice light but eyes dark.

"kiss me and i won't tear your costume to shreds," ian ran his hand up mickey's back, catching on the wings clumsily before tracing his silk clad skin back down to his thighs. "you're looking hot as hell." the statement carried heat behind it.

mickey's breathing picked up as he considered the weight of his options.

ian grinned, trapped under mickey's control, but waiting patiently for the signal he knew he would be allowed.

a breath. two. three.

"c'mere," mickey leaned.

ian crashed his lips against mickey's own, his mouth a fire hot cinnamon. ian groaned. did mickey really have a mint for this? motherfucker thought of everything.

ian traced his hands over the mickey's chest as they kissed, following the lines of silky ribbon crossing back and forth. back and forth. lower. lower. lower.

the textures of silk and leather and skin mixing together under his hands, grasping at whatever he could reach.

mickey's weight pinned him to the mattress, helpless.

he felt fingers caressing his hair as his mouth felt warmer as they melted into each other.

what felt like an eternity in damnation later, mickey broke them apart. they took a moment to assess their equally disheveled appearances while fighting to catch their breath behind a laugh.

ian made a grab to pull mickey back in, certain he would comply, but mickey was quicker.

he rolled off with a grunt, tossing a half empty water bottle at ian's still body and nudging his leg when he didn't respond.

"you ready to go?"

"go where?" ian picked up the water bottle and idly traced its shape with his fingers.

a flick. "the party? tamietti's? your sister-in-law? ring any bells?"

ian sighed as he nestled further into their bed, "i still don't have a costume."

mickey waltzed towards their dresser, a slight unbalance in his step, and flung an old flannel on the bed.

"lumberjack. you've already got the scruff, thank you very much." he added quiety, grinning lopsidedly to himself. he was genuinely so proud he had convinced ian to abandon the clean cut army man look and to not shave for a few days to see what would happen and dear god was he enjoying the consequences.

ian finally sat up and chugged the rest of water bottle in one go before setting on their nightstand. it took a moment for mickey's words to register, but when they did -- yeah.

"you're a genius."

ian leaned up to grab mickey again, but he side stepped ian's attempts and straightened his outfit. "no sir, you gotta get changed. we need to leave like... ten minutes ago. tami's gonna have my ass if we're any later."

"tami better not go anywhere near that ass," ian grumbled, but complying with mickey's requests.

"don't worry, logger, you're the only wood for me."

"oh mickey, now that was bad."

mickey grinned as he shimmied in his satin outfit, smoothing over the wrinkles that ian had put there mere minutes before.

ian could easily stare at this image of mickey all night. as he was buttoning up his flannel, he made a mental note to buy mickey some more red.

"i think red is your color, mick." ian let slip, shoving his wallet in his pocket.

"yeah?" mickey grinned, "you too, stud," he ruffled ian's hair and pushed him out the door.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Remember?

Summary- 1.9k Frank Adler x You. Frank wakes you up at the ungodly hour of 3:30 am and will not even tell you why. Written for @stargazingfangirl18​ 5k challenge

Warnings- like... barely there mention hint of smut? But just barely? I cant even count it as a warning to be honest. 

A/N- so yes this is written for a soft!dark challenge, but dark writing just isn't happening. I went with just soft and with the prompt of lazy make out session.I really wanted to make sure I was giving something to Siri’s challenge because she works so hard on providing us wonderful fics to enjoy, is incredibly supportive and honestly she deserves it. Much love always babes and thank you for all you do.  

A/N 2- Can be read as a one shot. It is in the same verse as Oppressive. Also trying out a new site to make moodboards. I kinda like it? what do you all think? And I know the Fort Myers pier is made from concrete, not wood, but I wanted wood. So I went with wood. I always appreciate your thoughts on a fic. Alright, Much Love, Happy Reading! 🌊

“Baby wake up.” You heard a husky whisper in your ear as well as a rough scrape against your shoulder from Franks cheek as he pressed in close to your back, the soft hairs of his chest pressed into your sleepy warm skin and you muttered a no into your pillow as you hid your face into the cotton covers. 

He must be out of his ever loving mind to think you were going to wake up at… a quick peek at the old 80’s looking radio clock Frank loved sitting on his night stand. The red numbers were unfocused at first, but blurry sharpened to three thirty am. Yes, your man was crazy to think you were up for anything at all, and the way he was pressed into your ass cheeks, you suspected he woke up early for sex. 

That was going to be a hell no. “Frank go back to sleep. I will fuck you later.” You promised as you shifted back into your warm safe hollow. He chuckled gruffly and his hands slid on your hips to twist you to fast him, causing you to sigh and blink up at him. In the dark of the room, his eyes were a dull blue shining down at you amused. You though were no in that same mood as you blinked up at him, pushing a hand against his chest. “Come on Frank, I'm not in the mood. I was sleeping so good.” 

“You would think I would wake you up just for sex.” Frank scoffed.

“It wouldn't be the first time.” 

“Probably won't be the last either, but that's not what this is about. Come on Sweetheart, get up. I have a surprise.” He tapped your ass and pulled away as you were groaning, knowing sleep simply wasn't going to happen. 

“Adler, I swear to all that is holy, this better be good.” You grumbled as you sat up and tried to wake up. Frank came back out with some clothing for you, a pair of capris, tee shirt and undergarments. You looked at the casual clothing and arched your brows. “Where are you dragging me?” 

“Its a surprise, trust me, those are appropriate.” He started as he dressed in some old faded blue jeans and grey tee. Wherever he was taking you wasn't going to require dressing up too much, so you just pulled your hair back into a tie, and didn't bother with makeup. He kept glancing at his watch, and by three fifty he had you out the door and to his pickup truck. He tossed a bag in the back and when you went to question it, he shook his head firmly in a no while ushering you into the passenger side. “Part of it, just trust me.” 

“I trust you to have something up your sleeve Adler, considering you know I love my sleep in on Saturday Morning.” You grumbled under your breath. Typically you and Frank slept late Saturdays. Mary would go to Roberta’s Friday night for her weekly sleepover that both woman and child insisted on, you and Frank would go to the local bar for a night of cold drinks, games of pool and the occasional dancing when you could get Frank drunk enough to go on the small dance floor. Simple, but you always had a good time. Saturday was recovery day. 

So why was he dragging you out of bed on recovery day? 

“So a hint?” You decide to pester a bit, sliding closer on the bench seat till you were against his side, his arm circling around your shoulder to tuck you in closer and press a kiss to your temple. You could feel his lips upturned to a smirk against the side of your head. 

“You want a hint… It has to be done early in the morning.” 

You rolled your eyes at him with a huff, dropping your hand to dance your fingers against a jean clad thigh, making his eyes dart down to your hand. “I want better then that.” 

“You are not gonna get it Baby, but you can try your best.” 

He really was being serious this time, because he caught your hand from wandering up to far and brought it to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

“Alright Adler, keep your secrets then.” You let your head rest on his shoulder and eyes close. Frank was stubborn, always had been. You knew when you just had to let it go. You drifted in and out as he sped along the interstate. Soon he was turning off, but you weren't quick enough to catch what the exit was, so still had no idea. 

“Are we there?” 

“Close, you don't know where we are?” He asked with a slight laugh in his voice. You shrug a bit as you two are driving down the main drag of the area, passing all night gas stations, fast food chain restaurants, outlet stores and parking lots. 

“No clue, every place in Florida has this Frank.” 

He hummed a bit, slowing to an intersection and flicking on his blinker. “True, but you will soon see.” He winked as he made the turn, pulling away from the city-like area and moving towards the beach strip. Where million dollar homes, hotels, and beach side tourist traps laid quiet in the barely morning hours. It was starting to lighten though, you could see the black blue of the night sky make way for lighter purples and pinks. 

So you remained patient, waiting for wherever Frank was taking you. The terrain started to get sandier, the crack of the window took on a breezy salty scent and you could taste the hint of surf and sand in the air. Your lips turned upwards, just that scent alone reminded you of a couple years ago, and it all clicked right where you were. 

Your first overnight away from home with Frank was to Fort Myers, a small rundown motel on the beach. The room was iffy, the Ac barely worked, neither of you dared to use the pool. At the time it was all you two could afford. And it was all perfect. 

Because that morning, before sunrise, you two escaped to the beach, arm in arm and sat in the dunes to watch the sunrise over the crashing ocean, and all was perfect in the world with each other. 

Frank glanced over to see the knowing look on your face, and his own softened in a smile, his hand coming to grasp the inside of your thigh gently, squeezing. “Now you know?” He pulled into an almost deserted parking lot. At the other end were a group of people, unstrapping their boards to get ready to go into the surf. 

“Of course Frankie.” You said with a touch of sentiment in your tone as you leaned over to peck his lips and nip at him playfully. “How can I forget?” You pull away suddenly and jump out of the car, yanking off your shoes to ditch in the truck. Frank followed, doing the same with his own boots. 

You had already taken off into the sand, making your way towards the surf to dig your feet into the wet sand happily. Now it was getting lighter, those dark purples and pinks made way for the reds and oranges as the barest hint of the sun kissed the horizon. 

Frank came up behind, having managed to yank his jeans up partially around his calves and pressed you two to walk out a bit further into the surf, the salt water spritzing you both in a fine cooling mist, clinging to your skin, in your hair, on your clothes. It all brought back the sensations of that first trip together. You fall back into his chest while he dips his head to mouth kisses into your neck, enjoying the quiet of the moment with you in a more physical way for a moment. Making you tilt your head to the side while the sun finally broke. 

From the nearby pier, heavy pelicans lined the side to swoop down, skimming over the water in lines, giving the two of you a show all for yourselves, among the surf the small sandpipers chased after the tiny ghost crabs trying to escape back into the surf, all of it made you smile. This felt like home to you, right here with Frank. 

“It feels like forever since we have visited.” You finally say as you turn to face Frank, the two of you stepping out of the surf, and hand in hand making your way along the beach's edge towards the pier, the sandpipers running away as fast as they could, a few taking to wing to fly several yards ahead of you to start there search in the surf retreating back from the edge once more. 

“Been a couple years at least. I was looking at the calendar and realized an anniversary of ours was coming up.” He mentioned while you two stepped under the pier. A small private world for you two at the moment as far above you people made their way towards the end stretching out over the water, ready to drip lines for fishing in the surf. Here though, underneath it all, was just for you and Frank. 

Nothing but water crashing to the shore, wood above your heads and the morning bringing back fond memories. Memories of shared kisses against one of the ageless logs helping to hold the deck yards above them steady, the way your legs wrapped around his hips as he pinned you in place and loved you so freely out in the open where they could be caught. How afterwards Frank said those words that he never uttered to anyone else in the way he said it to you. 

Fuck I think I love you. 

You thought then you loved him to. Now you knew you did. Your fingers looped in his belt loops and you walked backwards, till your back pressed once more against that sand and salt aged wood, looking up at him in the now very present dawn. 

“You know Frank, I think I love you.” 

“You know what Y/N, I think I love you too.” He winked, sliding in closer till he was pressed against you, his hands cupping the side of your face and tilting up to meet him, his tongue sliding past soft lips to the sweet heat of your mouth and tangling his tongue with yours. It elicited a soft moan from the back of your throat. 

Warming salty air really agreed with Frank, mixing the tastes on your tongue, you curled your arms around his body, clutching at his back as you now clung to him, thoroughly enjoying the way this kiss made you feel. 

The sensations of love and passion curling in your belly and your heart thud against your breast bone, absorbing into Frank as he pressed into your body, trying to daze you from rational thoughts, away from the everyday thoughts. 

Frank had a talent at making you appreciate the here and now. 

And right here, with sand covering your feet, your shirt and pants clinging to you from the ocean spray and your man completely pressing every ounce of his affection into you, you could do nothing but appreciate being in the moment. 

“Scratch that, I don't think, I know I love you Frank Adler.” You managed to break out of his kiss for half a second. 

“I know you do.” He assured you as he grasped the back of your thighs and lifted you enough to fold your legs around his waist. “I plan on showing you just how I feel.” He promised, the glint in his ocean blue eyes turning mischievously playful under that pier.

[draco-spencers-paramour]

congrats for 300 followers! can I request a 🖤 with draco they have a sort of arrangement where everyday after work he goes to her house eats her out and have sex and then he leaves. they never talk but are catching feelings so one day when he comes as usual. Instead of him going down on her she gives him head and asks him to stay the night when they talk and finally confess?

This description is dirty af.....i love that😉

What you don’t know can’t hurt you

You never expected that after the war the person who helped you forget about the painful memories was the one and only Draco Malfoy.

You had spoken a few times, nothing serious. It was evident that you were both attractive people and there was a mutual awareness of that. Nothing really happened until after the war when school ended. Both of you were left broken and sad, ending up at the 3 broomsticks and then fucking back at yours an hour and a half later after at least 4 drinks about 6 weeks since you’d left hogwarts.

Draco had a job as an auror and you were a healer. Your arrangement was simple. He enjoyed going down on you much to your delight, and sex. But he never gave you the opportunity to do oral on him. Being the gracious person that you are, you wanted to return the favour but no. Because then it was over and he’d leave.

This had been going on for 6 months straight. You and him both trying to find some kind of release and comfort. The only issue was that you both became absolutely head over heels for each other but you had a fear of messing things up and ruining your arrangement which stopped your confessions of love. He longed for you, silently pining in desperation for one of you to just say something. Whereas you thought he just needed someone to use to fulfill his sex life, like his own personal fucktoy. Not that you minded but it did make you feel like shit after he left.

However, would you even call Draco your friend? Or was he just a lover..a regular hookup? you weren’t sure but you wanted more than oral and sex. It was mind-blowing but there was not much interaction though just whining of names, moaning and curse words. Even when you’d see each other in the street or at gatherings, you’d exchange the soft hello and not say a word to each other for the rest of the night but would probably leave together to go and fuck at yours.

Tonight was the same weekday routine. You finished your shift at St. Mungos before coming into your apartment in Godric’s Hollow. You got undressed had a shower and put a robe on before sitting on your couch with a mug of tea practically waiting for the boy you loved to knock on the door. And he did.

You swung the door open to see Draco looking rather upset. ‘You alright?’ you asked. He nodded before entering the room and you swiftly shut the door. He placed his work bag down before turning around and immediately placing his lips on yours. You became dizzy and light headed from the emotion he was pouring into the kiss. He must’ve had a really bad day you thought. He picked you up and pinned you against the door, lips never leaving yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist as you submitted full control to him, the bottom of your robe hiking up around your legs almost exposing you bare as his hand travelled along your thigh.

Draco carried you to the bedroom like it was second nature and laid you down on the bed. He began to kiss down your neck as per usual trailing down to your panties. You really wanted to give him full pleasure tonight so you stopped him at your navel by tapping him on the shoulder. ‘Could we switch tonight? maybe i go down on you instead?’ you bit your lip nervous at his reponse. He gave a small smile ‘If you want.’

You smirked and flipped you both over so that he was against the bed lying down. You slowly and teasingly removed your robe. Draco’s icy eyes were over taken by his pupils and his lips parted at the sight of your beautiful naked body. You removed his shirt before sinking to your knees, on the carpet, below the bed and began unbuckling his belt. You took of his trousers and boxers in one swift movement so that he too was now naked. Draco’s dick was prominently standing up against his stomach when you then slowly wrapped your hand around his length and licked up from the base to his tip.

He threw his head back and moaned ‘Oh god y/n, good girl’ this encouraged you to slip your lips around him and slide his cock in and out of your mouth. Draco kept moaning, grunting and swearing as you explored different pressures and boundaries. ‘Fucking hell..i’m gonna-.’ he said as you took him all in and sucked lightly. He gave a long low moan as he came in your mouth and you swallowed every bit of it.

you came up to kiss him which he gladly accepted and flipped the dynamic again with him on top. he pressed your hips into the mattress as he slotted his body in between your legs whilst his mouth was still on yours. He looked at you with an expression you’d never quite seen before. It was soft, curious and lustful almost bordeline loving. He then looked at you as to say ready?

you nodded and smiled before feeling the tip of his cock rub against your clit making you moan softly. Immediately after, you felt what you had been waiting for. Draco. His dick entered you slowly and he set a slow pace. He put his head in the crook of your neck and began kissing and panting. The pressure of the pleasure was too much for you both. The slow pace was absolutely fucking heaven. You were both on cloud 9, involuntarily clenching around him with every thrust. This was not sex, he was making love to you.

‘Oh Draco. Yes...yes..more.’ you whined. He moved his head to suck on your tits as he was fucking into you. That was what pushed you over the edge and you screamed out a string of expletives along with draco’s name as you orgasmed and clenched around his cock. Seconds later he met with his own release cumming inside you, pulling you into a kiss as he came.

Draco slumped on top of you waiting to catch his breath. You knew it would be about another 30 seconds before he got up dressed himself and left. Just as you predicted he stood up, out of the bed and went to the carpet where his clothes were and began to put his trousers back on. No you thought you couldn’t go on like this any longer.

Before your brain could even stop you the word fell out. ‘Stay’ you said, terrified. He blinked and look at the ground and then back up at you and it was simply ‘Okay, sure.’ He removed his trousers being naked once more and climbed back into your bed with you. Draco’s arms instantly came around your waist and you put your leg across his stomach, rested your head on his chest and put your arm across too. You were cuddling Draco Malfoy post-sex.....this does not happen ever **The beautiful boy laid there looking up the at ceiling as you just looked at him

Your eyes finally met ‘You know, we don’t actually speak very much, if at all. Everytime we see each other we say hi but then we don’t talk.’ Draco pursed his lips ‘I don’t know how to speak to people. Especially if i’m fucking them.’ you looked at him confused ‘But the only person you’ve been fucking for the last 6 months is me and when we were in school it was pansy in 5th year and you spoke to her ’ he nodded ‘I know but she was terrible and I didn’t and don’t even like her. It’s just different with you.’

you removed yourself from him and sat up and furrowed your brows ‘Why? Because I’m worse?’ he sat up also and put his hand on the small of your back ‘Merlin, no you’re the best I’ve ever had. But it’s not because of any of that.’ you looked at him even more puzzled ‘Then why?’ you questioned again. He sighed before looking down ‘I love you.’ he admitted. Your eyes widened ‘What?’

Draco frowned ‘Im sorry. I do. I love you. I see you at gatherings laughing so carelessly with your friends and I wish it was me making you laugh. I time exactly when I’ll get to yours so that i know you’ve had enough time to get ready and settled before i come over. I know that you have green tea always and you enjoy watching the rain and having baths. You hate anything orange flavoured and you like muggle TV for who knows why. I know a lot more than you think I do because I want be the person who you feel like home with because I love you and i’ve just ruined everything.’ he put his head in his hands.

You carefully took his hands away taking in his broken hearted expression ‘I love you too Draco. So much’ you held your hands in his. He gazed at you in shock before tackling to you to the bed and kissing you. ‘So how about we get to know each other a little better?’ you suggested ‘Like a date night?’ he beamed. You laughed ‘Yes but right now I had more of a ‘round two’ situation in mind considering our current state.’ you looked between you two to see that you were still both naked.

He smirked ‘Read my mind Y/l/n.’ You kissed him again ‘I love you.’ ‘I love you more.’ he said

well....thank you anon. I enjoyed writing this far too much 😁

[wandsandwheezes]

Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH2

one //

Warnings | Mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff, other chapters include smut 18+

Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London's best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

creds to @vogueweasley​ for the moodboard<3

The warmth on your skin as George's arm lazily draped over your side, truly was a feeling you could get used to. Shamelessly it was your fourth night in a row you'd spent in his bed, a part of you longed for you to wake up in his arms every morning. George was not a heavy sleeper, easily disrupted by anyone and anything, perhaps the only way he'd ever sleep through the night was when he'd passed out drunk. Having seen just how affectionate he gets after a few too many shots, you were glad you hadn't been at the fire whisky fuelled celebrations. 

Sneaking around with George was much easier at Hogwarts, no cameras, no fame, no interruptions; just kisses and evenings together. Part of the reason you and George had such a good time together in Muggle London was that more often than not, you were just a normal couple, free to kiss and hold each other in front of everyone. He pulled you from bed early that morning to take you on a surprise trip before your training that evening. 

He'd gotten you to wrap up warm and comfy in an attempt to block out the freezing British winter winds. The ten minute walk from your home to the Embankment was full of conversations about all of the gorgeous Christmas displays, you even begged him to let you put up the Christmas tree early in the house, giving in when you looked at him with your puppy dog eyes, "I'm so whipped, aren't I?" he laughed, fingers interlocking with yours as you walked. His eyes trailed across the river before an Idea popped into his head, he nodded towards the London Eye, sat proudly across the river in all of its glory. "What do you say, Princess? Fancy heading up there for a bit?" 

Your eyes were beaming the minute the wheel started spinning. You'd managed to get a pod all to yourselves, a rare opportunity, but one you grasped with two hands, laughing as he picked you up and spun you round and around. "We should run." you spoke softly, hand running through his hair gently as you looked into his eyes. "For you, I would." he murmured, catching your lips for a long kiss, it wasn't quick or fiery, just a deep, long passionate kiss. He took his time with you because he had it, there wasn't any rush here, no chance of being caught or stopped. His kiss said a thousand words about the way he loved you.

Looking out over London's bustling city with your head in George's chest made you realise just how perfect a life with him was. When there were no cameras, no press, no fakery and especially no Cherry in sight, It was easy to feel every beat of his heart, as they synced together beating as one. You were tracing circles on the back of his hand taking in every curve of his knuckles and the beauty of every sporadic freckle. Only you could differentiate the touch of your lover so distinctly, you felt him in the way he curled his fingertips up when he cupped your jaw, or how his arm would wrap around your waist with enough strength that made you feel protected. 

"Where would we go if we ran?" You mumbled softly, your small fingers slotting through the gaps between his own. "Remote Indonesia…" he joked, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "I'd go anywhere with you, My Love, one day we won't have to run, I Just wish eighteen year old me had enough balls to say he loved you and then we wouldn't be in this mess." you shook your head, pulling his arms around you tighter as you snuggled into his hold, "Don't you dare, George, It's you and me forever, no matter what, right?" he hummed contently, pulling your hand up to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles, trailing kisses up your arm to your neck between every word. "Forever, and ever, and ever, and ever…"

 //

You'd just stumbled your way into your dorm, arm still in a sling after a pretty nasty accident, a bludger to the ribcage never did a girl any good. A box of chocolates lay on your bed, as well as a note. 

Words aren't enough to tell you how sorry I am, I'll make it up to you, I promise . Get well soon, Y/N <3

-G

Locking eyes with George from across the great hall as you sat with your friends and he with his, he was looking at you with pleading, guilty glances. It really wasn't George's fault that the bludger hit you, sure he hit it, but you were on rival teams and that was the danger of the game. If the fact that he was the first at your side when you struck the floor should've made it obvious, but the fact that you were struggling to breathe and you couldn't move much really over shone the moment. 

You were sat in the room of requirement, in front of the roaring fire, staring directly at each other. You were only a month into the relationship and It wasn't awkward, just unfamiliar, he wasn't sure if he could touch you or hold you, let alone kiss the pain away. Instead he settled for holding your hand, thumb brushing over the back of it comfortably. 

"You need to stop blaming yourself George," 

"But I hurt you, and I-" 

"Shh, baby, the massive Iron ball hurt me… It’s all part of the game." You had now leant forward to crawl onto your knees, kneeling before him, you pressed your lips to his, making him forget about his bewitching thoughts, now only focused on you. 

"I'm going to protect you." George stated so matter-of-factly, that it made you recoil slightly. It was tough words from a 16 year old. He caught your expression, "I'm serious. It's going to be me and you, Forever." You were blushing, he made you feel like the only girl in the world. 

"No matter what?" You questioned. 

"Forever, no matter what."

//

After your impromptu date, George made his way to the shop and you went back to his to grab your phone, and get ready for practice. You'd left it there, the time away from the pinging and buzzing from Cherry's latest update

 or her next best opportunity. You were unsurprised by the 30 odd messages from your Publicist rambling on, but one stuck out like a sore thumb. Fred. 'shit' you thought, 'I've gone and missed something.' hesitantly opening the message to see just one message. 

>> are you gonna head by the shop today? No worries if not, I know you're busy x

<< I’ll try and pop in before practice, if not… coffee tomorrow? :)

You contemplated how your reply sounded while you stripped from your clothes to pull on your branded activewear, a picture caught your eye, the Gryffindor quidditch team, captained by Oliver Wood in Harry’s first year. They all looked so young and eager to get out onto the field. A devilish idea crept into your mind and you found yourself rooting through George’s drawers, finding exactly what you had set out for. You pulled on the old Gryffindor quidditch sweater, observing yourself in the mirror, It was odd to see yourself in the deep maroon and orange after years of donning the silver and green. You picked up your phone, sending George a quick text. 

<< Meet me down the alley by B&B… I need to show you something. I’ll be 5 x

>> I won’t ask ;) x

You wrapped your coat around your shoulders, slinging your duffel over your arm before grabbing your wand, apperating just up Knockturn Alley. you checked over your shoulder, hoping not to be caught, you passed Bourgin and Burkes, spotting the boy with fiery red hair standing down the secluded alley. 

“What did you need to show me then, trouble?” he joked leaning against the wall, steam billowing from his lips from the bitter cold. You smirked, unzipping your coat to show him the knitted sweater. “Is that-” you cut him off with a nod, fingertips reaching to zip your jacket back up, but his strong hands catch your wrists, pinning you against the wall. “Take it off or I’ll rip it off.” he was half joking, smirking down at you as you rolled your eyes. He caught your lips in a hurried kiss, his hand leaving your wrist to cup the side of your face. 

Even with your eyes closed you noticed the bright flash, a flash you knew all too well. You’d been caught. Thinking quickly on your toes, you put on your signature giggle, pushing George’s chest away while whispering a soft ‘play along’, as your eyes caught his, you bat your eyelashes. “Freddie, stop it will you?” he tried his hardest not to laugh, as he backed up holding his hands up in defeat. “I can’t hold my girl from her practice any longer.” the small group of paparazzi were begging for another kiss, or at least more interaction, you dragged George away from the scene, “show’s over I’m afraid folks!” the cameras continued to rapidly flash as you  quickly apperated him away from the scene to his office. 

“That’s gonna be the front page tomorrow,” you sighed as you slumped into his desk chair, throwing your bag to the floor, “Cheryl is going to murder me in broad daylight,” He was gently rubbing your shoulder, before he leaned down pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll fix it, baby.” he reassured you, tilting your chin up to look at him. “Forever.” the word that quickly became your ‘I love you’. You stood and pulled off the jumper, as well as your jacket, handing him back what was his. “Make sure to take it home will you? We can have some fun later with it,” you smirked, picking up your bag and sending him a wink before apperating to practice. 

Cherry’s deep red car was outside of the stadium, you dreaded the conversation that was about to happen, contemplating just bolting out of there. ‘Better to face her head on than piss her off’ you thought, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down before opening up the door and climbing into the passenger seat with a smile. “You should’ve said you were swinging by and I would’ve showered, I feel bad stinking up your car!” you joked, trying your best to sound surprised by her visit as you pulled your duffel onto your lap. 

“Good news, You’ll be the front cover of the prophet tomorrow.” you gasped, a smile on your lips, “I am?” she laughed, tapping away on her phone, pulling up a picture, “Yeah it’s you and Fred… locking lips. Care to explain what happened to the ‘no kissing’ rule” You took the phone thrust into your face by your publicist, looking at the picture snapped just a few hours prior. You had to admit George did look pretty sexy in the position he was caught in, you looked over at her with pleading eyes. “I’d love to congratulate you, but that’s not Fred you’re kissing, is it?”

You cocked your eyebrow at her, “Who else would it be? Of course it’s Freddi- wait you don’t think that’s George do you?” you laughed, pressing your lips together, to stop the full laugh erupting. “Don’t let Fred hear you say that, he gets funny about people mistaking him for George, you know.” she looked back at you blankly, clearly unappreciative of your laughter. “Come on Cherry, what reason would I have to be kissing George?” you tried to think of a reason around the ‘no kissing rule’ “The only reason I don’t like kissing Fred at events is because I don’t want it to seem fake, I’m obviously not adverse to kissing him, I just like to do it in private, He is an attractive man after all.”  Cheryl was now squinting at you, she sighed however, pulling her phone back out of your hands. 

“You’re right, why would It be George?” she adds, pulling the car out of it’s parking space, “Here, I’ll drop you home, you need a shower desperately.” you laughed pulling out your phone, seeing a text from both of the twins. 

>> Let me know when you’re on your way home, I’ll stick the shower on for us ;) x

>> Coffee tomorrow it is! :) 

When you jump out of the car, Cherry rolls down her window, to speak to you. “I want a nice kiss like that for the product launch.” you go to protest but she cuts you off. “Make it happen.” and with that she was away in the wind.

Today was a close call, almost too close for comfort. You and George needed to be more careful, and harder yet, you had to keep that copy of the Daily Prophet out of Fred’s eyeshot. 

// TO BE CONTINUED // Chapter Three >>>>>

taglist //  @starlightweasley​ @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @whiz-bangs78 @weasleysflowr @vogueweasley @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @rip-us @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 @pandaxnienke @loony-loopy-lupinn​ @pigwidgexn​@starkidpotty​ @mrmoonyy​ @mackaywhore​ @softlyqoos​ @colorfulprofessornickelangel​ @fandomscombine​ @satellitespidey​ @txtdreamss​ @aaannabbanana​ @kaylahmarie​

[internalsealpanic]

Love Through the Ages (Tim Drake)

Summary:  Love like baggage needs to be declared.

a/n: This is part two of a series that is a fic rec list disguised as a fic. For these fics, most of the characters will be speaking different languages, so unless specified otherwise assume that the characters are speaking in the first language I mention. They’re all vampires with centuries under their belt. Why wouldn’t I make them all polyglots.  Also, thank you to the proof reading gang for putting up with my shenanigans.  I will have links to the fics I recommend in the fic itself.

Warnings: Everyone is dramatic.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist. 

You watch the rusty green of the warehouse wall disappear behind a spray of orange paint. There is nothing more satisfying than watching paint make old things new. 

A whistle interrupts your reverie, making the can slip from your hand. You swear, the harsh syllables echoing in the empty air. The can bounces down the scaffold and lands in someone’s hands. Tim’s face gets sprayed with a mist of orange. He makes a noise and rubs at his face. You bark out a laugh and he grimaces at you. The begrudging fondness obvious on his face. 

He waves at you, eyes still stinging from the paint. Giddiness flourishes in your chest. “I knew I’d find you here!” He shouts in a dialect of Mandarin that you hadn’t heard in ages.

It takes you a moment to understand him. You’re honestly extremely rusty. It takes you another moment to realize that it made no sense for him to find you. “How?” You shout back in Romanian. 

Tim shakes his head, throwing his hand over his shoulder. “Open canvas.”

You snort, looking down at him. Tim’s breath catches as he stares up at you, your smile. You’re haloed by sunlight. You look like an angel descending from heaven.

Tim’s forced to pick up his jaw when he hears your voice again. You’re tapping your watch. The words are lost to him.

“What?!”

You shake your head, strands of hair coming loose from behind your ear. “I asked...” You shout in a coarse frawl. “... Isn’t it a bit early for you to be here?”

It was. 

He was only 30 minutes early. No big deal. 

He shrugs. “I just wanted to watch you paint.” He says, trailing off. Oh God, Tim thinks. Does he sound lovesick? Is Cassie right? He pushes the thoughts down, opting to look at the building instead. On the side of the building was an immaculate portrait of the Red Hood rendered like a saint, haloed in golden light and surrounded by your orange marigolds. It would look at home in any grand cathedral. Your talents never ceased to amaze him.

“Should I ask why you’re defacing a building?”

You turn back to the building picking up a can of yellow paint. You tilt your head. “It’s a massive improvement, yes?”

Tim looks around. The pavement is littered with wet trash mixed. The buildings were rusted. Everything else is covered in grime. “You’re rude…  but not wrong.”

You preen, electing to ignore the first half. You turn back to your canvas before Tim can get another word in. He knows he’s lost you. 

“So, why *the* Red Hood?” 

You look away from the portrait, setting the can of yellow spray paint. It sprays your sweatshirt and Tim laughs. You stick your tongue out at his face flushing. You liked this sweatshirt. He gave it to you the last time you had meandered into Gotham. “Why not? We’re in the Bowery. He’s like a saint here.” You snip, switching to Russian. Ok, that made sense. You toss your sweatshirt into Tim’s face. The fabric is lousy with the smell of paint and of 5-hour energy drinks. It was an improvement over the pungent odor of garbage. 

He tries to rub the orange paint on his face away before he tucks your sweatshirt beneath his arm. You’re still looking down at him, wry amusement on your face. “I’ll paint your beloved Red Robin when I get to China Town. Heard he was quite popular in those parts.”

Tim’s heart flutters.  He stutters out his next question. “Why are you using spray paint for this type of illustration?”

“Kon said I couldn’t do it.”

Tim snickers, “As if Kon could tell the difference.”

You frown only realizing your mistake. You curse under your breath. Tim doesn’t stop laughing at you. “Shut up!” You snarl.

Tim dodges the next paint can you throw but the next one hits him square in the face. You grin triumphantly. Tim raises a middle finger at you and you giggle in response. You feel bad, seeing him wince in pain. You’d buy him apology tea later but for now, you clasp your hands and call out to him sweetly. “Sorry, Timmers!”

Tim, equally as mature and well aware that you’re only half sorry, blows out a breath, muttering something colorful before shouting back: “we should get going if we wanna eat out after looting the museum.”

At that, you launch yourself off the scaffolding, your body feeling weightless as it falls. Tim drops your sweatshirt as he holds his arms out to catch you. He catches you easily. You two spin as you wrap your arms around him. 

“You are certifiably insane.” He laughs. His nose smooshed against yours. 

“And so are you.” You snort, hugging him. 

He hugs you back. You hum so softly into his hair that Tim wouldn’t be able to tell it from a breath if he were human.  Tim holds you close, hugging your waist tightly. He doesn’t really want to let you go. You don’t either.  You and Tim stand there for a bit when you hear his cell beep. 

“Why does your phone sound like a pager?” 

“Because Babs told me how to.”

“That literally explains nothing.”

“I’m not taking crap from the gremlin who had ‘Baby Shark’ as their ringtone for 12 months. WILLINGLY.”

You pout at him, your face so close to his. Tim’s only half paying attention to your defense. To be fair, it basically boiled down to ‘it isn’t that bad’ and ‘Bart’s ringtone is worse’. 

After a short shopping trip and a cab ride later, you arrive at the museum in fresh clothes and less paint on his face for Tim. 

“All the World’s a Stage. They botched it! The nerve! The barbarity of it all. It's just like when they botched ‘Words with Friends’ or ‘In Ice We Trust’ or even ‘Tomcat’. That last one was pretty much gift wrapped for them!” You say throwing up your hands nearly hitting Tim and whatever poor bastard was unlucky enough to be behind you. 

“For someone who isn't invested in modern media, you're getting fired up.” Tim chuckles, eyes flickering behind you. You had managed to miss the people behind you but you do have a rather conspicuous space behind you. 

“They had such good material to work with”  you say, gesticulating wildly. “And- and they butchered it.”

“You need a 5 minute breather?” Tim asks, resting a hand on your back. 

 “Shut up,” you laugh.

Tim grins at you as if he had no idea what this ultimate betrayal feels like. 

Determined to prove him wrong, you say : “C'mon, Timothy,  you ranted like this when they botched the star thingy.”

“It’s Star Wars, you heathen.”

“Star. Thingy.” You repeat, crossing your arms. 

Tim squints at you. You know he’s not gonna blow up at you but somehow that’s scarier. 

“You can pay for your own cab later.” He grumbles. 

“Star. Thing-Y.” 

Tim turns to leave. This always worked. Always without fail, you grab at his hand, lacing your fingers with his. Tim tries not to smile.

“Fine.”

“Was that so hard?”

“It was excruciating actually.”

“You're being dramatic.” He says, showing the woman behind the ticket counter your passes. 

“Excuse me, I left all my drama in the Renaissance.”

“Oh really?”

“Ok not really but admit that both Andromeda and Stars, Forgive Me have better writing.“ You bite out.

 “I- That’s unfair,” he says. You raise your brow in response. 

“...”

“Fine,” he sighs. “But admit that Andromeda should have been named ‘Space Whores’.”

You squint at him then smile. “Oh abso-posi-tute-ly.”

 “Have you seen this dirty old hockey mask?” You ask, tapping the glass as if the hockey mask would react if you just agitate it enough. 

 “What is that?” Tim asks, looking over your shoulder. His brows crinkles when he sees the mask. “How is that romantic?”

You hum. “Ask the curator?” You suggest, looking around. He was usually out and about. He could never sit still even if he tried. You lean down narrowing your eyes at the plaque. “Says here some dude called Jason terrorized 3 kids over summer.”

“That’s very romantic for our Jay to do.” Tim says, crossing his arms and switching to Cantonese. It was a weird habit but you knew why. Apparently for all Jason’s skill in languages he somehow could not get a handle on Cantonese. 

 “Not that Jason.” You say, smirking. 

“You sure?” Tim asks, leaning closer to you. 

You snicker,  “As in character as that would be...”

“True,” he says, edging closer and closer to you. You rock on your heels nervously at the proximity. “It’s a shame, I thought there would be a machete to match too…” You can feel Tim’s breath on your cheek. 

“OH LOOK AT THIS.” You say twisting away and pointing to a black and white photo. Tim’s hands leave his sides to grab for you, to pin you to his chest, but he has enough self control not to. Instead, he follows you.

“It’s just a man and a woman in business suits. Yanno something you can see in any metropolitan city.”

“Yes but,” you say, tracing a nonsensical pattern into the air, “I’ve heard a story about this, they were both extremely rich and heads of their companies, went from enemies to lovers - my all time favourite.” 

Tim looks closer at the photo of the man and woman with their backs to the camera just holding hands along the NYC sidewalk. It’s cute. “I thought your favorite was lovers to enemies.”

“Well of course, it is! The drama, the absolute tragedy. It’s better than any trope in existence. But I love that this is just black and white. You don’t need anything else to indicate they’re in love with each other.”

Tim is all too tempted to point out that that likely wasn’t intentional, that it was a limitation of the time, but the look in your eyes robbed him of his breath, so he swallowed his thoughts. 

Your eyes rove over the room frantically in search of something. 

“So is there any reason you wanted to go to this exhibit instead of watching lavalantula 10 in theaters?” Tim says, tapping another case. 

You turn to look at him, shock etched into your features.“10? We've seen lavalantula 1 through 9 in theaters? Why did I agree to that?”

“Cus you love me?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Probably not.”

Tim gives you a hurt look. 

You scowl at him. You have no idea why everyone thinks he’s the nice Wayne sibling. He is a manipulative little shit who plays you like a fiddle. And yet here you are falling for it. An absolute buffoon. 

You grumble an apology under your breath before continuing. “This is more cultural Timmers and lord knows we need more culture.” You wave sarcastically. 

“I think we've lived enough culture.”

“it cannot hurt to experience more Tim,” you snort. He rolls his eyes. You grab onto his arm and look up at him bright eyed. Two can play it at that game. “Please Tim....”

He scowls at you. “Fine-”

“Yes!”

“-but you owe me a movie marathon.”

“Fine. Fine,” you nod, “just don’t pick something dumb.”

“I just got the new star trek box collection.” He beams. 

“You could just shove me into a grave.” You sigh dramatically. 

Tim grins. “The Renaissance called-”

“Oh fuck you, Grackle.”

He snorts and you hate that you fall in love with him more every time he laughs. 

You cross your arms giving him a hard look. “Fine but we have to have an intermission of my choice.” You say, offering a hand. 

“Deal.” He says, shaking your outstretched hand. 

“Great, you've just agreed to watch the Great British Baking Show with me.” You say smug. 

Tim curses himself. 

"Are you still looking for that one painting?"

You tip your body back to look at him, your eyes wide and startled. It takes no time at all for them to shift to their usual angry shape. "Yes," you say quietly. It's Tim’s turn to be startled. Your hands curl into a fist. "It wasn't done and those bastards took it." 

Tim reaches out to put his hand on your shoulder. 

You cast your hands up to the sky dramatically.  "The barbarity of it all!"

Tim smiles, letting his hand fall to his side. You would be ok. 

You two walk on as Tim rants about StarGate  could have had a bigger fanbase if it hadn’t excluded so many people. You add StarGate to the list of things to not remember. 

You stop.

Your heart presses a bruise in your throat. 

Framed in  wood laden in ivy and marigolds is a painting that was painfully familiar.  Even unwashed, you can still see the bright reds of rose petals, the wild greens of the women’s skirts, the brilliant oranges of marigolds, and the blinding whites of cobble stones. The image was a practice in entropy made into perfection. The chaos of Valentine's day in a small town square reduced and captured in an infinitesimal moment.

Damian told you that people had started calling them Warsaw’s Faceless Sweethearts. You hated that.  A part of you wants to scream. You want to tell them that this wasn’t for them. This painting was made for one person and one person only.

You’ve been staring at it too long. Tim looks at you. You’ve known him too long to not know that he’s worried. That he’s feeling that stupid surge of protectiveness he always does when you go quiet. It’s in the cautious way he reaches out to you, slow and steady the way you approach a spooked animal. You want to lash out at him but he’s your Tim. Besides, too much of your mind is trapped in the painting, in the white gazebo, in between the couple who’s stuck in the moment before a kiss. 

Tim stands closer to you, his fingers lacing into yours with centuries worth or practice. He looks at the painting. “This painting looks familiar.” Tim says for the lack of anything better to say. It was yours. He knew that with only a few seconds of looking. 

“I… I don’t think so,” you say clumsily, “that’s definitely not the painting I’ve been looking for. Yup that one looks completely finished. Yup definitely.” You tug at Tim’s arm. 

He gives you a look, staying perfectly in place, before turning back to the painting. His gaze draws low. In a glass case sits scraps of paper lined with charcoal.  It takes an embarrassingly long time for Tim to realize that they’re sketches the artist did. Tim recognized the baker, the blacksmith, the seamstress, and even the constable. Most glaring of all he recognizes your marigolds.  His eyes drift to the sketches of the couple in  the gazebo. They were numerous, haphazard and unsatisfied. You were clearly frustrated with the groom’s face. Tim wonders who the poor guy could be. 

In the corner of the page in the center, he sees it.  “Wait… is that me?”

“NO!”

“Is that you?” He asks, pointing to the figure next to his. In the sketch, your lips are brushing against his. Tim’s lip tingles trying to replicate the sensation. 

You’re frozen stiff. You try to pull your hand away. You want to bury your face in them. Scratch that, you wanna be buried six feet under. Tim doesn’t let go of your hand. 

“That’s the umbrella you lost back in London.”

“I lost a lot in London, Timmy.” 

“Well...” Ok. Yeah, you did. Hence why he can’t get you to London even with the promise of letting you ‘improve’ Buckingham palace. But that isn’t the point. “(Y/n), this is gorgeous.” He says, turning to you. You look at him stunned and scared. He squeezes your hand.

You shake yourself out of his grip. Tim lets you. He knows when to back down. 

You step forward leaning on the rope separating you from your work. “I told you it wasn't finished.” You say, glaring at the painting as if willing the colors to move. 

“What happened?” He asks, bumping his shoulder against yours.

You bump your shoulder against his. “Warsaw.”

“I don’t follow.”

“That little town in Warsaw. It was kind of hard to finish the painting when soldiers were setting fires to houses. Ok, they didn’t do it directly but there was smoke.”

“Yeah kind of.” Tim agrees, smiling sadly. He looks back at the painting. “I want to keep it.”

“What?” You blink not quite following the shift in conversation. 

“Darling, I think we should have it. It’s ours after all.” Tim says holding your hand in his. Your mind is bouncing between too many things. He called you darling. He’s holding your hand. He’s smiling so sweetly at you. You’re addicted to that look in his eyes, pure unadulterated adoration. 

You cover your face with your free hand, feeling the smile on your face go uncomfortable wide. You feel something on your forehead, a kiss like a raindrop. It comes again and you feel like you’re going to collapse. 

“It’s yours..” He trails off hesitantly. “..if..” You look up at Tim, waiting with bated breath. Tim squeezes your hands. “...if you’ll be mine. ”

@batarella​, @anothertimdrakestan​, @lucy-roo​, @multifandomgirl-us​, @bungunz​, @birdy-bat-writes​,  @boosyboo9206​, @americasmarauders​ , @l-inkage​, @arestorationofbalance​ , @cloudie-skay​, @wunderstell​   @hyp-oh-critical​ @glorified-red​

[leossmoonn]

Training Session [Peter Parker]

masterlist 

pairing - peter parker x fem!stark’s daughter!reader

type - fluff

note - hope you enjoy! also idk ANYTHING about martial arts or combat fighting so lol dont take i wrote too seriously

summary - peter finds out mr. stark has a daughter and you two are put together for a training session.

warnings - lil suggestive

————

*gif isnt mine*

“How do you like it?” Sam asked.

You turned to the mirror, eyes wide and mouth agape, admiring your new suit.

“This is awesome!” You squealed.

Sam, Tony, and Nat had deisgned a new suit for you. After your last battle, your suit had been torn to shreds. It had been months since you were able to go out in the field and you’d be anxious to fight crime. Now that you had your new suit, you were now able to fight crime.

You were named Fox. You were sly, witty, and and charming. Not just in your moves, but your personality, too. You had been working alongside your dad, Iron Man, for 7 years. You were 10 when you started, obviously too young to actually be fighting, but you were his right hand woman at all times. You helped him with his suit, team, and plans on how to deal with missions.

Your suit was a dark orange body suit, much like Nat’s. You had fingerless gloves, black combat boots, and an orange mask that went around your eyes. You had a black stripe down your suit’s back, much like a fox’s. You also had a utility belt with a grapling hook, taser, and pepper spray — you could never be too careful in the city. You and Tony tried hard to keep your identity safe, especially since you were still in high school.

“Do you think we need to add anything?” Tony asked.

“Can I get rockets on the bottoms on my shoes like you?” You asked.

Tony chuckled, “We’d have to change the whole material of your suit, cupcake. You don’t like metal, remember?”

You grumbled, “Yeah, yeah. Well, I love it! Thank you guys so much.” You turned to them with a big smile.

“No problem, babe,” Nat smiled. “You have training with me today at five.”

You nodded, “Noted.”

“There will be someone else joining you in trianing today,” Tony said.

“Who? Is it Bucky?” You asked. “No, he’s new,” Tony said.

“Wow, that gives me a lot. Who is it?” You pressed. 

“You’ll see. He’s actually pretty good for just starting out,” Sam smirked. 

You sighed, knowing they were gonna make it a surprise. 

“Well, I can’t wait!” You faked enthusiasm. You didn’t like surprises. 

You went off and up to your room, changing out of your suit and into running shorts and a t-shirt. You decided to take a nap before your training.

You woke up 2 hours later, still as exhausted as before. You filled up your water bottle before going into the gym. You saw Nat and a brunette boy. He wasn’t too much taller and by the back of his head, he didn’t look too much older.

“Hey, Nat,” you greeted as you walked in and set your water bottle near the mat. 

“Hey, Y/n! This is our new recruit, Peter Parker. You probably know him as Spider-Man,” Nat smiled. Peter turned around and his eyes widened. 

His heart started to race and his face turned red as he looked over you. Your eyes were bright and lively, your smile being the most gorgeous smile he’d ever seen. Your skin flawless and you had no makeup on, but you still looked beautiful. 

“Hi,” you smiled. “I’m Y/n Stark,” you held out your hand. 

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but the only sound that came out was a squeak. Nat and you chuckled at his shock. 

“H-hi. I’m Parker. No, Pe-Peter,” he stuttered and shook your hand. 

“Not used to meeting important people, huh?” You smirked. 

“Ye-yeah, but also pretty people,” he blurted. His face turned a darker shade of red and he slapped his mad over his mouth. 

The action made Nat giggle and his words made flustered as well.

“Thank you, Peter,” you said shyly and looked down at your shoes. 

“Ready to get to work, love birds?” Nat teased. 

You rolled your eyes and nodded. You took a long sip of water.

“We are gonna start on the treadmill, do some weights, and I’m gonna teach you some combat moves,” Nat instructed. 

You and Peter nodded and got up on the treadmills. 

“One mile today. Remember to pace yourself. If you get tired, don’t be afraid to slow down a little,” Nat said. 

You started the treadmill at 3.5 so you can warm up for a few minutes before running. You took a small sip of your water as you sped-walked. You looked over and saw Peter already running his mile. Your brows cocked upwards as you saw him running at 6.0 speed.

You worked your way up to 6.0 speed, finishing your mile in 6 minutes. Peter, however, finished 3 minutes after you. 

“I said pace yourself, kid,” Nat said. 

Peter blushed again and nodded. 

“Next time, follow Y/n’s lead. She paces herself nicely,” Nat said while you took a drink of water. 

“Thanks, Nat. I have been doing this for a long time,” you smiled. 

“How long? Are you a superhero?” Peter asked. 

“Mhm,” you hummed. “I’ve been helping my dad since I was 10. I’ve been a superhero for 3 years.”

“What’s your superhero name?” Peter asked. 

“Fox.”

“Oh, my God! Really? I-I am such a big fan. You were what actually inspired me to become Spider-Man. I think it’s so cool how you save people and fight off bad guys without any superpowers,” Peter gushed. 

“Thank you, Pete,” you giggled at his excitement. 

“You’re welcome. Wow, this is so cool. I am working with Fox, Iron Man, Black Widow,” Peter smiled. 

“You’re lucky, kid,” Nat smiled and patted his back. “Okay, why don’t you all stretch. Peter, have you ever benched before?” 

Peter shook his head while stretching his hamstrings. 

“Okay, we’ll start you out with 45 pounds. If that’s too light, we’ll bump it up to 50,” Nat said and put the weights on the bar. “Y/n, what do you wanna do today?”

“Uh, I’ll do a leg and glute day today. My arms need a break,” you said. 

“Rock and roll, then. I’ll spot you, Parker,” Nat said. Peter went to bench press while you went to the kickback machine. 

You and Peter worked in weights for about an hour. You did a variety of workouts while Peter mainly focused on how to use each machine and which would be most beneficial for him. 

“Okay. Grab a drink, use the bathroom, whatever you need before we do some fighting,” Nat said. 

You both went to do your things before you were going to fight. You came back in the gym, stretching your arms while walking in.

“Ready to work, Pete?” You asked the boy and patted his back. He nodded and choked on his water when he looked up at you

You changed our of your shorts and t-shirt to black biker shorts and a grey sports bra. The biker shorts hugged your body perfectly and the top of your breats showed, making Peter stare.

You noticed and smirked. “My eyes are up here, kid.”

His eyes immediately shot up and his face blushed for what seemed like the 100th time today.

“I am so sorry. I just don’t see girls in bras, like, ever. In gym class we all wear t-shirts, which makes sense. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I swear I’m not a prevert or anything, you just look really uh... nice? I—”

Nat and you turned to each other, amusement played on your faces. You turned back to the rambling boy.

“It’s okay, Peter. I get it, boobs are nice to look at. Especially when you’re a hormonal, almost always horny, teenage boy,” you teased.

“I’m not horny!” He claimed, embarrassing himself more.

“Don’t worry, I never assumed you were. I was just speaking generally,” you smiled.

“Oh,” he said and he looked down sheepishly.

“No worries. Now, let’s get goin’,” you said.

Peter nodded and followed you to the mat. 

“So, we are going to practice some basic moves. Y/n, I know you already know them, but there is nothing wrong with reviewing,” Nat said. 

You both nodded, waiting for further instruction.

“So, the first one is simple, yet very dangerous. It’s also fairly easy, in my opinion. It’s called the rear neck choke,” Nat said. “Peter, you’re gonna stand behind Y/n and put your arm around her neck.”

Peter nodded and awkwardly stood behind you. Your butt brushed against his crotch, making him cough awkwardly. He put his arm around your neck. The skin-to-skin contact made your heart flutter. You cleared your throat, too, breathing deeply to try and slow your heart rate.

“Good. Now, you basically just squeeze until the person passes out. Y/n, why don’t you demenstrate the next move,” Nat said.

You smiled and took ahold of Peter’s arm. You then crouched down and pulled him over your head. You flipped him over on the mat.

“Ow,” he whined as he fell. He looked up at you and couldn’t help but smile. You stood tall, hands on your hips and a smile on your face.

“Now, Peter, what you can do when she does that is hook your legs on her ankles and pull so she looses balance. You then can reach for her ankle and throw her across the room. But, we arent going to do that. What you can do, though, is do the ankle bit I told you. Then you can pin her down,” Nat explained.

Peter looked at you two hesitantly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Y/n chuckled, “It’s all right. You won’t hurt me that bad, I promise.”

Peter nodded and did as he was told. He hooked his feet over your ankle and jerked you so your feet gave out beneth you. He then got up quickly to pin you down, but you were quicker.

You rolled over and pinned him down instead. Your left hand held his wrists above his head while your right held down his shoulder. Your legs went around his waist and squeezed slightly to make sure he wouldn’t move. Your head leaned down to his, a triumphant smile resting on your lips.

“W-wha-” Peter was at a loss for words. Not just because you beat him, but how close you two were.

He breathed in deeply, catching a whiff of your scent. You smelled like cherries and vanilla. Your skin was smooth, clear, and glowing from the sheer film of sweat on your face. You looked like an angel to him, nonetheless.

“And that is why you gotta be faster, Parker. But you’ll learn in time. You’re already pretty good on the field by yourself,” Nat said.

Peter nodded. You got up off of him and helped him up.

“Wanna try that again? I promise I won’t do that again,” you suggested.

“Sure,” Peter nodded and laid back on the mat.

He hooked onto your ankle again. As you promised, you let him pin you down. You watched the way he moved. He was swift and fast. The way his muscles flexed when he grabbed your wrist made your stomach flip.

He got on top of you, pinning both your wrists like you did to him. His free hand went to the side of your face, helping him support himself so he wouldn’t be laying directly on top of you.

Your heart rate quickened once more and you felt like it was hard to breathe. A few strands of his hair were hanging down from his head and he had sweat glistening on his forehead. His honey-brown eyes was something you found yourself getting lost in quickly. He was so handsome.

“Uh... Y/n?” Peter muttered, catching your attention.

You blinked rapidly and looked away in embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he gave you a friendly smile and got off of you.

“Okay, water break. You two practice those few moves a few more times,” Nat said.

You got up and took a big sip of your water bottle. You then got back to training with Peter. He was a fast learner and almost every time pinned you down. You, however, were slightly faster.

Each time you got on top of him, Peter couldn’t help the butterflies in his stomach. He’d never been this close to a girl before.

Thirty minutes later and the session was over.

“Good job, you two. Next time we’ll get into more moves involving punching and such. See you later, kiddos,” Nat smiled at you two. She left the gym and you turned to Peter.

“It was nice meeting you, Pete. Maybe we can hang out outside of training?” You suggested.

Peter’s eyes lit up and he nodded excitedly.

“Y-yeah. I’d like that.”

“Great. Give me your number next time. See you, Spidey,” you waved and left the gym.

Peter jumped up and down. He couldn’t wait to tell Ned.

————

Like / Reblog !

taglist form

[wayward-dreamer]

Life’s Lessons - Part 3

Title: Life’s Lessons - A Lesson in Faking It

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader (eventual)

Other Pairings: Dean x Lisa

Word Count: 5,342 (song lyrics in italics).

Part Summary: Monday morning is off to a bad start as Y/N’s car refuses to start, but she receives some help from Dean. As an IOU when he refuses to let her pay full price for the car service, Y/N invites him dinner. Realizing what it could imply, she backtracks and invites Lisa, too. 

Warnings: Swearing, some angst, Lisa being aloof, social insecurities, alcohol consumption to deal with nerves.

Music: Out on the Tiles by Led Zeppelin (Dean and Y/N car scene), Back in Black by AC/DC (playing in the garage during Dean and Y/N garage scene).

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist 

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read so far, it’s been so great to hear your thoughts! Any thoughts, theories and feedback you have is always welcome, so don’t be shy to comment! It’s greatly appreciated! Happy reading and enjoy! :)

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics! Check her out for all your AU needs!!!

Life’s Lessons Masterlist 

Monday arrived too quickly for Y/N to be happy about it.

She had managed to get some revisions done on her lesson plans, so she was prepared for her classes in terms of content. She just hoped for the strength to deal with the kids this week. She really hoped this week would be better than her first.

She woke up as soon as her alarm went off and started getting ready. After her shower, she dried her hair and got dressed into a purple A-line dress, with a collared neckline. She wore her black, pointed toe shoes, that had a short heel, the most sensible heels for school. After applying a little bit of make-up, she fixed her hair and pinned it into a bun. Seeing that she had some time before she left, she made herself a quick breakfast, of yoghurt and fruit and a piece of toast with peanut butter.

Breakfast was a lot different at the Winchester/Braeden household.

Dean was at the stove, working on scrambling eggs. Ben placed plates on the kitchen counter, the bacon already crispy and done, on the counter already. As Dean turned to put the eggs on the counter, he lifted his arms up, as Lisa ducked underneath to get past him. She took out one ceramic mug and a travel mug, filling them both with coffee.

“I’ve got soccer try-outs after school, so I won’t be done until 5” Ben said, pouring himself some orange juice.

“I’ve got a meeting today and it might run late, so can you get him?” Lisa asked, putting Dean’s travel mug in front of him.

Dean took out some eggs on Ben’s plate. “Yeah, I’ll come get ya.”

“Thanks” she mumbled, fixing her own plate of breakfast.

Dean ignored her lacklustre response, as he practically shovelled food into his mouth. He was going to be late if they didn’t leave now.

“And then drop me off at my science partner’s house. We’re working on a project together” Ben explained.

“Sure” Dean nodded, as he ate.

“They’re going to bring you back home, right?” Lisa asked.

Ben nodded but continued eating.

Dean looked between them, practically inhaling breakfast. “Alright” he mumbled around the last bite of food in his mouth. “You ready?”

“Yeah” Ben replied, gulping his juice down.

Dean put his plate in the sink, followed by Ben’s as he grabbed his coffee. “Bye.” He leaned over and kissed Lisa’s head, a habit that he hadn’t dropped even if it didn’t mean what it used to, before walking to the door.

“Bye mom!” Ben called out.

“Have a great day!” she called back before Dean closed the door.

“Fucking start, you piece of shit!” Y/N yelled, as she turned the key to her car in the ignition. All she got back was a grinding sound, and nothing else. It would stutter and die down but pick up again every time she turned the key.

“Damn it!” she slammed her hands on the wheel as she sat back, shaking her head.

This is what she got for driving all the way to Kansas in this piece of crap car, which might as well have been held together by duct tape and dental floss. She got out of the car with her phone, trying to look up a number for a mechanic.

Dean walked over to the Impala and was about to get in when he heard an awful sound coming from across the street. He looked up to see Y/N’s car still in her driveway, which was the source of the noise. He watched as she got out, a frustrated look on her face.

“Hey” he called out.

Y/N looked up, smiling tentatively. That’s not really the mechanic she wanted. Well she did, but she shouldn’t.

“Get in the car” he said to Ben, as he walked across the street to her.

“That doesn’t sound good” he told her as he reached her.

She shook her head, as she frowned. “Yeah, I’m going to be epically late by the time someone shows up.”

“Okay, there’s no freaking way you’re calling someone else, I’ll give you a ride to school and tow this to the shop later” he explained.

“What?” she asked, shocked that he offered without hesitation. “No, Dean, it’s really okay-”

“No, no, you’re not talking me out of this. I’m taking Ben to school; it just makes sense” he gave her a pointed look, letting her know he wasn’t backing down.

“Dean, I really can’t. With Ben… it’ll be really awkward, I’m his teacher” she protested.

“Look, I’ll drop you guys off around back, no one’s gonna see you. Okay?” he insisted.

She was going to be late if she didn’t take the offer.

“Okay” she sighed, defeated but relieved. “Thanks.”

Dean smirked. “No problem, sweetheart. Come on.”

They walked over to the Impala and Y/N admired it as they got closer. She had obviously seen it a few times from across the street, but she was excited to take a ride in it. She loved the look of classic cars because of her dad, and she felt a heaviness in her heart as she thought about him, so far away back home.

“She’s beautiful” she said, as she ran her hand over the smooth finish. The sleek black shone in the sun, showing her that Dean loved his car immensely.

“Yeah, she is” he agreed, grinning.

Ben smiled at her nervously as she got into the car. Y/N just smiled, feeling slightly awkward that she was in a car with one of her students, and his surrogate dad. She just had to avoid conversation about school and hopefully everything would be okay.

They were on the main road to school pretty quickly, the silence in the car too much for Dean to bear. He leaned forward and switched on the music player, his Zeppelin tape coming to life through the speakers. Y/N smiled and bopped her head along to Out on The Tiles. Dean looked at her from the corner of his eye and smirked at her reaction to his music. Lisa didn’t really like listening to his music.

“I’m gonna go back and get your car later” he said, lowering the music slightly. “I’ll take a look at it.”

“I really can’t thank you enough, Dean” she smiled.

“Hey, it’s my job” he shrugged, as he looked out at the road. “Swing by the shop after work and we can sort everything else out.”

“Sounds good” she nodded.

Another silence fell between them, the music the only thing they heard but the lyrics to the song caused an air of awkwardness to fill the car.

All I need from you is all your love All you got to give to me is all your love All I need from you is all your love All you got to give to me is all your love Oh yeah, oh yeah Oh yeah, oh yeah

“So…” Dean trailed off, trying to find something to say. “You uh… you into Zeppelin?”

“Yeah!” she exclaimed. “Grew up on this and pretty much all classic rock, thanks to my dad. I got all his records and his record player when I moved out here. Said he wanted me to take a piece of home with me.”

Dean let out a whistle as he glanced at her. “That’s awesome.”

“Yeah” she sighed, looking out the window. “I started listening to this stuff because of my dad, too” he told her. “Hell, I got a lot from him, the car too.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised. “Your dad gave up a mint condition Impala?”

Dean raised his eyebrows as he looked at her. “You know this is an Impala?”

“Yeah” she shrugged like it was no big deal. “I went to a car show once with dad. I saw one there and knew it was the same once I saw yours.”

Dean, however, thought it was a very big deal. Damn it, just one more thing to like about her he shook his head, getting rid of other things he was thinking of.

“Well… it’s still in the family, so it wasn’t much of a sacrifice” he laughed.

“Still… he must really love you to just give it you” she said, turning to him.

Dean looked at her and saw the small smile on her face. As he thought about it, he knew that she was right. He and his dad had their issues sometimes, but there’s nothing they wouldn’t do for each other. He smiled back at her and then looked at the road. He knew he had to get this conversation back to the safe zone before they arrived at school.

“So, you’re into cars?” he asked, casually.

She laughed, shaking her head. “Only for the look of them. I have no idea about them otherwise.”

Dean shook his head, with a smile on his face. She had a great laugh and he suddenly felt the need to hear it as much as he could.

“Ben’s into cars and this music too. Right, Ben?” he asked the kid sitting in the backseat.

“Yeah” Ben mumbled.

“Lisa not so much though” Dean mentioned, but he realized that he only did that so that it didn’t seem like he had forgotten her about for a second. It scared him how drawn he was to Y/N.

A few moments later, Dean pulled up at the back of the school. They could see the main drop-off area from there, as kids yelled goodbyes to their parents and hurried in.

Dean looked up at the rear-view mirror, seeing Ben gather his things. “See you at 5, kid.”

“Yeah. Bye Dean” he mumbled, as he opened the door and shut it, the hinges squeaking.

Dean watched Ben walk towards the entrance, then turned to Y/N.

“Thanks for the ride, Dean” she said, gathering her bags. She handed her car keys to him, for later.

“No problem” he smirked, as he leaned back, one arm outstretched, his wrist leaning on the steering wheel.

Y/N tried not to sigh noticeably, as she was flustered at the sight of him. Did he know what he was doing to her? He had to know, right?

“I should go” she laughed, trying to hide her nervousness.

“Wait” he said, as he pulled out his phone. “Put your number in and I’ll text you when I’ve picked up your car.”

“Sure” she said, quietly.

She was a little nervous about him having her number. Would Lisa think something of it? It was just two people exchanging numbers, that’s all. Plus, it was about her car anyway. She quickly typed in her digits and name and handed his phone back to him.

Great. I’ll see you later” he smirked, trying not to sound excited at seeing her again.

“Yeah, see you there” she replied, as she quickly got out of the car and walked towards the entrance.

Dean watched Y/N walk away, appreciating the way her hips swayed as she walked. He told himself it was harmless to look. It’s not like he was going to do anything about it. He quickly pulled away from the curb, the engine roaring as he drove to the garage.

Later that day, just after lunch, Dean left the garage with Benny in charge until he got back. He drove back to his street and stopped in front of Y/N’s driveway with the tow truck. He got out of the truck and walked over to her car, popping the hood open. Given the sound he could hear that morning when she attempted to turn the car on, it was clearly the starter and the flywheel that weren’t cooperating with each other. He opened the driver’s side door and put the key in the ignition. When he turned it, he heard the same sound, which confirmed what he thought. The grinding noise also seemed to die down every quickly, which meant the battery was weak, too. Hopefully there was enough in there to get the car into neutral for a tow.

He spent a few minutes trying to get it to start without harming the flywheel, which already looked to have some broken teeth. He got out of the car and walked over to the tow truck, driving it up the driveway. He slid the panels under the back wheels, and then got out to put Y/N’s car in neutral. Once everything was secure, he got into the tow truck and drove back to the garage.

As he drove, his mind wondered to Y/N. The conversation he had with her that morning was so easy, and they had just met last week. It wasn’t that easy with Lisa. Having been with Lisa for 3 years now, shouldn’t they have their easy moments, too? The first year had been great. The second was a little rocky, with its fair share of arguments and apologies. Soon after, as he quickly started to realize the kind of woman Lisa was, he knew the charade was over. She was a great mom to Ben; it was everything else that was a problem. The last year had been filled with distant behavior and more arguing, a lot arguing. To the point of yelling and not being able to hear what the other person wanted. He also doubted whether she told him the truth about something that was bothering him, but he didn’t dwell on that.

If they weren’t fighting, it was mostly quiet as they’d ignore each other or pretend to be the happy couple when people came over. They had tried to fix things, but it had pretty much been useless for about nine months straight now. Maybe things would be different with Y/N…

Dean shook his head. He couldn’t think like that. Just because things were rocky with Lisa didn’t mean he could check out on her and Ben. He still cared about them and didn’t want to do anything to hurt them.

He arrived at the garage and decided to get his mind off things by seeing what to do about the car. Work was always a good distraction from what was going on at home, and it would have to be a distraction from thinking about Y/N.

Y/N sat in the staff room, munching on her salad. It was a slow day, surprisingly, and so she found herself just scrolling through social media and news articles. She was on top of her work for school, so it was nice to take it easy for one lunch. Her phone chimed loudly, showing her she had a message. As she opened it, she smiled down at the screen.

Hey, it’s Dean. Just got back to the garage with your car. Pretty positive I know what’s wrong, but I’ll tell ya when you get here.

She instantly replied back.

Thanks so much for doing this. I really owe you!

His reply came quickly.

You really don’t, sweetheart! That’s what friends do :)

So… we’re friends now? I thought we were just neighbors. She typed back, with a laugh emoji.

You knew I had an Impala. Trust me, we’re friends ;)

She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. She bit her lip trying to keep it at bay, but she just couldn’t.

She and Dean were friends now. Maybe that would help in keeping her crush on him from becoming complicated.

“Thanks for doing this” Y/N said, as she sat in the passenger seat of her friend’s car.

Cas smiled, waving her off. “You’re welcome. I should really see the guys anyway. I haven’t in a while now.”

“I didn’t realize you were friends with Dean” she said, trying to act casual. She was dying inside knowing that they were friends. It was like she couldn’t escape him. Not that she wanted to, even if she should.

“Yeah, since high school” he nodded, as he glanced at her. “We drifted a little when I went to college in California and he stayed here, but we reconnected once I got back. I’m friends with most of the guys who work there.”

“That’s great” she said and looked out the window. Hearing how close he was with his people made her miss her people.

“So, how long have you and Meg been together?” she asked, changing the subject from Dean.

Cas smiled as he thought about his girlfriend. “4 years. I never thought she’d go for me, so I know I’m lucky to have her.”

She smiled sadly, longing to have something that would last more than a year and a half.

“I was telling her about you, and she wants to meet you as soon as possible” Cas laughed.

Y/N joined in and nodded. “I do too.”

Cas pulled up to the garage and Y/N could feel her nerves flutter around like butterflies in her stomach, as she stared up at the sign Winchester’s Auto Repair. Dean had that effect on her, and it was scary to think how quickly she had started to like him. The reception area was closed, so they went in through the side door, after Cas shook the front door and found it locked. She walked into the garage, with Cas behind her, instantly hearing buzzing noises in the corners of the garage. She looked around and tried to spot Dean, but was met with a muscular man, short hair and a beard, wearing a white Henley, smiling at her as he walked over.

“You must be Dean’s neighbor” he said, his Southern accent, mostly likely Louisiana, thick and raspy. His blue eyes shined as bright as his smile. “I’m Benny.”

“Y/N” she smiled in return.

“Hey brother” he said to Cas, nodding at his friend with a smile.

He looked at Y/N, the smile never leaving his face. “I’d shake ya hand, but as ya can see” Benny laughed, showing her his greasy hands. “Dean’s just on a call, he’ll be out soon.”

“Okay, great” she said, but just as she did, she saw Dean coming out of the office.

“Hey!” he beamed, as he walked over. “I see you’ve met Benny.” He patted his Cajun friend on the back as he stopped by him.

“Hey man” he said to Cas, as he hugged him. He smiled at Y/N, and she felt as if her heart skipped a beat.

“Your car’s out back. You wanna come with me and we can talk?” he asked her.

“Sure” she replied. She turned to Benny and smiled. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Good to meet ya, cher” he winked at her, causing her face to heat up.

Dean rolled his eyes as he led the way, walking past his friends. “Ignore him” he told Y/N, causing Benny to snicker when Dean was out of ear shot.

Y/N followed behind Dean, as they walked past all the cars inside the shop. They went out to the back, which was a small outdoor workstation, with a few more cars out there. She spotted hers as they walked over.

“Okay, so…” he started as he popped the hood on her car. “The starter wasn’t catching on the flywheel because it had broken teeth, that’s what the grinding noise was. And the noise was sort of dying as well, so the battery’s weak.”

Y/N looked at him blankly, her eyes wide as she tried to understand what he just said. Dean found it extremely cute.

“All I understood was the battery part” she shrugged; her eyebrows furrowed.

He let out a small chuckle. “It’s okay, I forgot that you don’t understand car speak.”

“Guilty” she confessed.

“Don’t worry about it” he reassured her. “Basically, you’re looking at two new parts, which I’m gonna have to put an order in for and uh… it’s gonna cost ya some.”

She sighed heavily, hanging her head. “Great.”

“Hey, it’s all good. I’m gonna do it for half” he told her, with a smile.

Her head snapped up in shock. “No, Dean, I’m not asking you to do that.”

“You don’t have to; I’m doing it anyway. The only thing is, it’s gonna take a week for the parts to get here, so you have to do something about getting places. There’s a good car rental over on-” he explained but she cut him off.

“That I can deal with it, but Dean… I can’t-” she stopped when he gave her a playful glare.

“It’s not up for discussion, Y/N” he stated as closed the hood. He crossed his arms as he leaned against the car. He looked at her and she just couldn’t take it anymore. Damn him and his glorious face for being such a nice guy.

“Dean” she sighed, shaking her head.

“Y/N” he said, smirking.

A silence fell between them as they looked at each other. He wasn’t going to budge on this, so she had to admit defeat.

“Thank you” she said, smiling.

“No problem” he said, still smirking.

Y/N had noticed he said that every time she thanked him so far. It almost like their thing, now. Shit. They had a thing already.

She smiled and leaned into him, wrapping her arms under his as she hugged him. Dean was a little startled but quickly wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He smiled as the smell of her shampoo filled his nose, just as the scent of his deodorant mixed with a hint of motor oil smell filled hers. They both realized that the hug had lasted longer than they expected it to, and quickly pulled away from each other.

“Alright” she moved a few steps away from him, pushing her hair back, awkwardly. “I better head home.”

Dean scratched the back of his head, trying not to think about that hug. “Yeah, I gotta finish up and pick up Ben” he moved off the car and walked her back out. It was quieter in the garage now, and Y/N could hear Back in Black playing from the little speakers in the corners of the garage.

She looked around the room, trying to decide whether she should ask him what she wanted to, before looking back at him.

“Hey, if you’re not doing anything tonight… you want to come over for an early dinner? It’s a school night, I know but I can at least pay you back in food” she asked.

Dean looked at her but didn’t say anything. Y/N realized how that must’ve sounded and immediately back tracked.

“Oh, I mean you and Lisa. Both of you. Not just you, both of you” she rambled.

Dean laughed and patted her arm. “It’s okay, Y/N. Uh, yeah. I mean, I’ll run it by her, but it shouldn’t be a problem. Is that allowed though?”

She knew what he was asking and nodded. “As long as we don’t talk about Ben or any of my other students, it’s fine. I mean, this is a small town. Who else are we supposed to socialize with?”

“Well, he’s going to be over at a friend’s anyway, working on a project. So, coming over to yours will be better than being at home. It uh… gets quiet when he’s not around” he told her, but quickly realized how much he revealed.

Y/N realized what he meant but didn’t say anything. “So, I’ll see you both tonight.”

“Sure thing” he nodded.

Y/N smiled and walked away. Cas insisted on taking her home, but she told him she’d be fine to walk. It wasn’t that far. Dean watched as she said goodbye to both his friends and took her things out of Cas’s car, walking down the road. She had an effect on him, and it was beginning to scare him. He was in a relationship and had made a commitment. He couldn’t just back out because he wasn’t happy. He had to try harder and make more of an effort, and he had tried when they started going through problems, but that hadn’t been enough for Lisa.

Maybe he had to try again.

“I really don’t like this” Lisa lamented, as she fixed her top in front of the mirror.

Dean rolled his eyes, annoyed at her attitude. Ever since he told her that Y/N had invited them for dinner, she had been voicing how unsure she was of going over there.

“Lis, if you’re having a tough time with this then why’d you say yes in the first place?” he asked, as he shrugged on a fresh plaid shirt.

“Because…” she didn’t really have an answer. “I don’t know, I just agreed because she’s new here and she needs people to talk to, clearly.”

“She’s not desperate, Lisa” Dean turned to glare at her. “You’re talking about her like she doesn’t know how to make friends. Plus, she literally just got here.”

“I didn’t mean it like that” she corrected herself.

“Well, that’s sure as hell what it sounded like” he clipped back. “Not everyone has to be out every damn weekend to prove they have a social life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, frowning.

“Nothing” he mumbled. “Let’s just go.”

Dean turned and walked out of the bedroom, picking up his jacket along the way. He waited for Lisa to pick up her bag, before he walked out of the house, with her locking the door behind them.

Y/N leaned against the kitchen counter, a glass of wine in front of her. She never drank on a school night, but she really needed at least a glass before her company for the evening arrived. She was nervous to have Dean and Lisa over to her house, mostly because of Dean. She was really crushing on him and she had to hope that she could stop herself from looking over at him in a way that would make it obvious how she felt. At least with Lisa there she could control herself. Fake it till you make it, Y/N she thought to herself as she took a big gulp of wine.

When she got home, she had made chicken alfredo for dinner, something that she knew how to whip up quickly.

Y/N jumped out of her skin and her thoughts, as the doorbell sounded. She smoothed her hands down her jeans and fixed her plaid shirt as walked to the door, opening it. She smiled as she saw Dean, trying not to linger on him as he smiled back at her.

“Hey guys, come on in” she said as she looked at Lisa.

She stood aside and let them in, closing the door.

“Wow, looks a lot different without all the boxes” Dean joked, as he walked into the living room.

“Wait…” Lisa stopped next to him, a look of confusion on her face. “You’ve been over before?”

Y/N sensed that Dean didn’t tell her about that and stepped in. Dean didn’t need to be interrogated for something small. “Oh, he just helped me on the first day here, with some of the furniture.”

Lisa nodded. Luckily, she let it go, but still walked past Dean with a glare.

“So, can I get you guys anything? I’ve got beer, wine, iced tea…” Y/N listed but Lisa shook her head.

“I’m fine, thanks” she said, simply.

“Dean… beer?” she asked, with a small smile.

“Sure, thanks, Y/N” he replied, giving her a reassuring smile.

“Well, dinner’s actually ready so we can sit down. I’ll bring your beer over” she said, walking into the kitchen.

Dean and Lisa sat down at the table, next to each other. Y/N took a beer out of the fridge and brought it over to the table, setting it next to Dean’s plate. She sat down across from him and lifted the lid off the dish on the table.

Dean whistled, a dreamy look in his eyes. “That smells amazing, Y/N.”

“Thanks” she laughed. “Let’s hope it tastes good.”

They all served themselves and dug in, and surprisingly, Lisa was the first complement her.

“This is really great, Y/N” she said, after a mouthful.

“Thanks, Lisa” Y/N smiled.

“This is amazing” Dean hummed, around a mouthful. Lisa glared at him, but Y/N found it endearing. He noticed Lisa looking at him and swallowed quickly.

“So…” Y/N started. “Dean told me how you guys met. I think it’s amazing that you reconnected, and now here you are” she smiled, as she looked at Lisa.

Lisa looked at her, her lips pursed as she took in what Y/N just said. “Yeah, it’s pretty great, but um… you know it’s private so…”

Y/N nodded, staring down at her food. “Of course. Sorry.”

“It’s fine” Lisa played it off with a small smile.

As Lisa ate, Dean looked up at Y/N with an apologetic look. He mouthed ‘sorry’ to her and she smiled, shaking her head to tell him it was okay.

“So, Lisa. What do you do?” she asked, changing the subject.

“I’m an accountant” Lisa told her. “Not the most interesting of jobs, but hey, at least the money’s good.” She added in, with a small laugh.

The conversation remained simple and somewhat bleak. Mostly questions about work and brief questions about family, that didn’t require a lot of explanation. It was a civil evening; however, which Y/N was really grateful for. When they were finished, Y/N picked up the dish and started clearing up.

“Hey, Y/N. where’s your bathroom?” Lisa asked, as she got up from the table.

“It’s just down the hall on the left” Y/N instructed.

“Thanks” Lisa muttered as she left the room.

When she was out of ear shot, Dean stood up and helped Y/N clear the plates. “I’m sorry, Y/N. She just-”

“Dean, it’s really okay. Please, don’t apologize” Y/N reassured him as she walked into the kitchen.

She carried the plates over to the sink and didn’t realize that Dean was right behind her, ready to pass the glasses over. She turned around and smacked into his chest. She laughed as he held her steady, joining in.

“Sorry” she continued to laugh.

“It’s okay” he laughed as well, as his hands rubbed along her arms.

Y/N looked up at Dean and realized he was looking at her. Their eyes met; their bodies close to each other. Dean looked down at her lips, beautiful and inviting. She looked up at his, perfect and pouty, begging to be kissed. It would’ve been easy to lean down and press his lips against hers, but they couldn’t. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. They heard the bathroom door open down the hall and jumped apart. Dean went back to the table and pushed the chairs in, making it look like nothing had just happened.

Lisa walked back into the room, oblivious to what had happened just moments before. She smiled as Dean stood next to her. She put her arm around him and smiled up at him. Y/N looked away, her heart sinking at the scene in front of her.

“Dinner was really amazing, Y/N. Thank you” Lisa told her. “We should really get going, though. I’m sure Ben’s on his way home, too.”

“Of course,” Y/N walked over to them. “Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for having us” Dean said, trying not to look directly at her.

Y/N walked them over to the door. “Goodnight.”

They both called out ‘goodnight’ as they walked down the steps of the porch. Dean knew he couldn’t look back at Y/N, so he kept walking, resisting the urge to turn around.

Y/N shut the door and leaned her forehead against the wood.

“Fuck” she whispered, as she closed her eyes and shook her head.

That was too close. She can’t believe she almost did that with Dean. That couldn’t happen again.

She began to realize that maybe her little crush on him was developing, and that was a scary thought that she didn’t want to entertain. She couldn’t.

So, she wouldn’t. It would be easy enough. She just had to avoid him.

That was easier said than done.

-x-

Tags: @flamencodiva @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @katehuntington @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29​ @castiels-a-winchester​ @perpetualabsurdity​

[dracjoonie]

| ⋄ Moonchild ⋄ | Mer!Joon AU |Chap.2 Mudskipper|

⥼ Pairings : Mermaid!Namjoon x Human!Fem!Reader

⥼ Tags : Fluff, eventual smut, slow-ish burn, do Mermen count as hybrids?.. mer!joon x fem!reader

⥼ Summary : What happens when a son of the moon and sea discovers the surface for the first time. And as he stumbles through it; trying to adjust to these new things she called “feet” and “legs”, would it be the surface he fell for, or her?

Basically, Namjoon as the little mermaid~ Minus the whole plot.

⥼ Word Count : 4.5k

⥼ A/N : I know its been a long time since I updated, and I’m really sorry about that ^^” I had a lot of doubts around where I wanted the story to go, but I think I’m all sorted out now! Anyway, I hope this is well received <3 

You tasted salt again. Felt it burning in your eyes and deep in your sinuses. You wished your scream when the wave hit sounded less embarrassing, but you figured it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like you were the only one. Though he looked relieved when he saw the great big shadow of a wave looming above the both of you. 

And he was, but that feeling lasted about as quickly as it came.

The wave knocked you back like a steel wall, and then dragged you forward harshly against the rough sand. Not into the ocean, thankfully. It dragged you far enough for your skin to feel raw. But that had nothing to do with why his relief was so short lived. 

He thought the water would bring his tail back.

He was wrong. 

So what does a Moonchild do when faced with extra limbs, too many joints, and not enough coordination? Turns out they scream. A lot. You would think something that lived primarily underwater wouldn’t have a set of lungs like that, but you were wrong. Baby’s and sirens should have told you that. But the longer he went the more you wondered if he needed air to breath at all. 

“COULD YOU CALM DOWN ALREADY!?” 

“CALM DOWN!!?? YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN!?? WHY DO I HAVE LEGS!!?? WHAT ARE THOSE!!?? WHAT IS THIS!?? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CALM DOWN!?? I’M UGLY!!!” 

“Over dramatic much? jeez..” 

“WHAT!??” 

You began to try and pick yourself up out of the sand, wanting to avoid near drowning for what would become the third time that day. 

“You screaming. It’s dramatic.”

“How am I supposed to react!!?? -Wait, how did you do that!!?” You turned back to flash him a quizzical expression; forgetting for a moment that he had probably never seen someone “walk” before.  

You had only walked a couple of feet up the shore away from him, but for him that was way too far for comfort. Like you ditched him on a bike with no training wheels, except the pavement was slippery sand -if sand was outer space. He flipped himself onto his stomach and did what he could to drag himself after you. He learned fast though, switching to a military-esc crawl when he realized you can only pull yourself so far in a substance with little to no leverage. 

You watched him, still in disbelief that this whole situation was actually happening. 

Soon he made it to the end of his difficult journey, grabbing at your ankles with his dried out hands and huffing out in exasperation. 

“How did you travel like that!?” You snorted at his phrasing.

“I walked.” He tilted himself in the sand to glare up at you, his sharp eyes still too shiny and vibrant to be intimidated by. Especially in his position, with his half wet and half dried clumps of hair invading his face from all sides. You chuckled, squatting down so he wouldn’t have to strain so hard with his feeble glaring. You startled him again with your speed, but he only jolted a little and kept his grip around your ankles. 

“I’ll show you how.” His eyes got real big at that.

“To.. wal-k? -I can’t do that.” 

You had to smile half heatedly at his defeated expression and that sorry look in his eyes. “I just want to swim..” He continued, a sad note in his voice.  

“Well we can figure out your missing tail situation later, for now let me just get you walking so you don’t cook and die out here.” You realized how poor your choice of words were when he started scrambling around in fear. “THAT CAN HAPPEN!!?? WHY DO YOU LIVE UP HERE!!??” 

“Uhh forget I said that, I was exaggerating.. Mostly. Flip over for me, ok?” 

He stammered, but did as he was told. He flopped back on his back, looking up at you sternly. You were able to ignore how naked he was right up until then, you shifted your gaze to the skys trying to talk yourself back into ignoring it until you could get him off the beach and clothed. That wasn’t really a conversation you were willing to have right now, it was barely morning and the day already felt too long. You only hoped he wouldn’t ask you anything specific.. That didn’t have to do with his legs. 

You walked around his form, sitting yourself back in the sand beside his knees. You grabbed his hand that laid beside him, and he gripped yours tightly. 

“I’m gonna help you sit first -give me your other hand too." He strained to look at you from on his back while reaching out to you with his other hand. You held them both now, each of your hands holding one of his reassuringly. You pulled on his arms, not too hard or too fast, just enough to raise his torso slowly off the sand. His balance wavered and tilted once he was upright, but instead of falling back he spread his legs and landed with his palms in the sand between them. He looked stunned, and you stayed at bay waiting for his next reaction. He smiled, a touch of confidence reaching his full lips. 

"Did I do it?" You tried your best not to laugh at him too much at the excitement in his voice.

"Yeah, you've got step one down -now bend your knees."

"My what?"

“Your… leg elbows." He frowned as he looked down at his new appendages, trying to pin point what it was you were talking about. He made an audible "ah!" When he figured it out.  

You held your hands out again as a balancing option but he was doing just fine staying upright on his own now. He bent one leg up, looking shocked that only one of them moved when he coaxed it. He tucked his leg in close to his chest with his foot planted in the sand before he fought to do the same with the other leg.

"Like this?" You nodded as you stood back up and stepped directly in front of him. He gently placed a foot on each of his in preparation as he watched you curiously. 

"So these-" you tapped your feet over his to make a point. "Are your feet, to stand you have to balance all your weight on them. The sand’s gonna be moving under them so this isn’t gonna be ideal, but this is what we're working with." You bent down and urged him to give you his hands again, and he did.

"You ready?" He yelped a yes in reply and you took the que. You pulled on his hands, feeling him tensing the muscles in his legs to catch his own weight. 

"Push on your feet." He nodded, tensing his legs more and helping you raise him up fully. He shot up quickly once he figured out the trick to it, startling you this time. He stood taller than you, which was concerning when he started to tip over.

"PUT YOUR ARMS OUT FOR BALANCE!" You shrieked, moving your feet off of his and throwing your hands up to catch his shoulders if it came to that. Suddenly his head was suspended a foot under yours.

He had bent his knees. He was still wavering in the wind a little bit, but he was standing; mostly, all on his own. 

"Hey!! You've got step two down...kinda. Can you straighten up?" He glanced up at you, his eyebrows knitted in concentration but you could see that he was gonna try his best at whatever you asked him to do. He started to straighten his legs out, his arms still far from his sides. He raised up slowly watching your eyes the whole way until he was stood above you again. Something behind you caught his eye and he reeled, ducking back down and hiding his face in your shoulder as he gripped onto you for balance.

"The sun.."

You gripped his arms as you looked down at him questioningly.

"Yeah..? It's sunrise now." You glanced back behind you being sure not to budge him and looked back at all the reds and pinks of the morning sky, the sun peeking up over the water. You were thankful for it, that little bit of sunlight was the only thing keeping you warm in your drenched clothing. 

"I'm not supposed to be on the surface when the sun is rising -I'm not supposed to be up here at all -but especially not when she's chasing the moon away." 

You were dumbfounded.

"Um.. well. You might have to make an acception today-"

"Are you not scared of her?"

You realized that this must have been some deep rooted merpeople thing, maybe the reason no one had ever seen one before. But he was on the sand now with the sun peaking over the horizon, and he was doing just fine. Whatever impending doom he was sacred of couldn’t have been real.. Or true -you hoped.

"Uhh.. no?" You questioned, seeing if he would say more but all he did was keep his head tucked into your shoulder. You patted his arms timidly, trying to conjure him some comfort.

“Hey.. Whats your name anyway?” He peaked up at you, his eyes swirling and glimmering in the rising light.

“Its Namjoon, and you?” He said in a rush. 

“Y/n.. Listen -its ok if you’re scared of the sun, but its only gonna get higher in the sky the longer we stand here.” That didn’t help, and you knew that as soon as the words left your mouth and you saw him start to tremble. 

“..Namjoon, really.. It’s not gonna hurt you. Just focus on the ocean, isn’t it beautiful like this?” 

That time did something. He started to peak his head up again, his earrings dangling as he moved on wobbly legs. He rose up, still jumpy, but determined. He held onto you the whole way up with his eyes so full of wonder as he calmed himself enough to look at the scenery behind you. You turned your head to see what he was seeing. The stark red glow of the sun as it broke through the horizon, still just a crescent on the surface but its light reflected off the waves and made the clouds glow in pinks and oranges. He stood like that a while; bravely, long enough for you to turn back to him and see the ocean in his eyes.

“See?” He only nodded.

“But don’t stare too long, I’m not sure what it’ll do to your big fish eyes.” “-Hey!” He looked at you again, wobbling from how quick he turned to you with an offended look on his face. “..I’m not a fish.” He pouted as he spoke and you couldn’t help giggling at his expense.

“Yeah, yeah. Lets get you walking fish boy.” Despite his pout he still nodded and looked back down at his new feet. You stepped back from him with your hands still out to catch him if he fell.

“Ok -step three. You’ll need to lift up one foot at a time and put them down in front of each other one behind the other -like this.” You stopped to demonstrate under his incredulous glare. He huffed and lifted his first foot, he tipped over but lept that foot forward in the sand to catch himself in time. He flung his hands out in the air again for balance too, just like you taught him.

“Heyy! That’s one step, now do the other one.” He glared up at you again and you grinned. You never thought you would be teaching a grown man to walk, but there was something endearing about it all. He tried stepping with the other foot and balanced it better this time as he placed it in the sand just in front of his first one. He tried it a few more times, turning a corner and just trying to get a hang of it. He stood a little straighter the longer he kept trying.

You let him walk on his own until he was walking circles around you. Somewhere along the line he figured out how to hop and land on his toes, he was very fond of that. You were happy he was having such a good time after he had just been screaming his lungs out. But unfortunately there was another thing you needed to point out to him, preferable before other onlookers started to show up. 

“Hey Namjoon!?” You shouted to him, waving your arms to coax him over from the direction his skipped off to. Somehow he figured out how to do little spinning jumps when you weren’t watching. He landed on his tip toes but it didn’t look like he was expecting the wave of dizziness that hit him once he stopped spinning. You watched him giggle and tip sideways to one knee mid wave.

“Y/n!! Everything is spinning!! The surface is fun!!” You chuckled at him as you made it over to where he was. You watched him flop himself on his back and dance his fingers up towards the sky.  Now that the sun was up you could see the delicate pastels in his hair more clearly. Strands of lilac and mint and powdered blues evenly blended amongst soft silvers and cool whites. 

“Not to burst your bubble, but there’s something you should know.” His ears perked up as he fought to focus on your figure looming above him.

“You’re naked.” He frowned up at you, flopping his hand in your direction

“And you’re not.” You sighed. This really wasn’t something you were up for explaining more in depth. 

“Uh.. we don’t really do that up here.. Be naked! That is..In public.” He tilted his head in the sand as he continued to frown.

“Why?” You thought about it for a second. Of course you knew why. It was awkward, it was distracting. It wasn’t a common occurrence to see some adult man zipping around showing full frontal. Not to mention it wasn’t exactly kid friendly. But you weren’t sure how to explain all that to him, or where to start. You banked on a shorter answer.

“I don’t know, its inappropriate?” 

“Why?” He said again, unsatisfied. You pinched your brow as you thought again. 

“It’s distracting?” 

“Are you distracted?” He didn’t miss a beat when he questioned you back. And you really didn’t want to answer that. So you didn’t.

“... Anyway. I found this abandoned towel..  You should wrap it around your waist so we can go into town without you mooning anybody.” 

“Mooning?” He sat up as he questioned you, wresting his elbows on his fresh new knees. You already felt too mentally drained from his previous questions, you didn’t even think about touching that one.

“You’ll have to figure that one out on your own.” You tossed the towel into his lap as he rose a brow at you, but he ultimately obliged once he got himself upright again. 

~~

You hadn’t given much thought to your own situation until you were walking back into the town you thought you finally got away from. It turned out jumping ship wasn’t the most productive strategy for getting away. And you still weren’t sure what happened in between you watching the lights of your home town get farther and farther away --and the burn of salt water filling your lungs. Regardless, you were thankful Namjoon saved you. Even if among all the chaos he brought with him you hadn’t found the time to thank him yet. You would make sure to. Your personality may be flippant most of the time, but you really were thankful. This guy just left his whole world to save your life without even thinking, and because of that there was a small chance he couldn’t ever get back. 

You felt for him and would do everything you could to help him find his tail, but your first form of thank you would be to show him around your small town on the surface. Surfing the web for merman lore to help send him home could come later. For now, a good distraction from his current predicament was in order. And distractions were just about everything for him. 

He was first fascinated when you made your way off the beach and he came in contact with the side walk for the first time. And fencing..and how sharp gravel is. And the way his mouth dropped when he finally looked up and saw his first building was a sight to see. You wished the milestone would be something better than a public restroom, but he was happy enough. He really wanted to go inside, but you promised him you would take him somewhere better.. Somewhere cleaner. 

When he spotted his first tree was the same time he learned how to run. He ran right up to this great big palm tree and flung his arms around it, resting his ear against its trunk. 

“This is alive!!” He exclaimed, and all you could do was giggle as you watched him look up and sway in tandem with the fluttering of its leaves. "Its old.. it must have watched the moon and the sun chase each other so many times.. What do I call you?"

"That's a palm tree" He grinned. "A palm tree, amazing. I hope you don't mind if I rest my palms on you." 

"It's just a plant, they don't have feelings." Something in the air moved when you said that, something other than Namjoon's jaw dropping to the sand.. "Are all humans this rude.” You knew it was the tree he was asking, so you merely rolled your eyes and kept walking down the sunny side walk with a grin. 

Finding him clothes didn’t take much time at all, street vendors were practically throwing themselves at him when they were barely set up for the morning. He was eye catching, so you weren’t surprised. With his long and delicate silver hair, and his eyes you couldn’t always place a color on. Not to mention how decorated he was in perfect pearls and pearlized sea shells, all wrapped in what you guessed was a seaweed equivalent to twine. Not only was be beautiful, but he looked expensive. And his big curious puppy dog eyes made him look a touch gullible. You couldn’t blame anyone for wanting to sell him their goods until his pockets ran dry. Little did they know it was your pockets, it would be a while before they were dry, and the majority of your funds were still on the ship headed in the opposite direction. 

You were looking around at the third booth in a row that Namjoon was ushered into. The sales women had barely spared you a glance, something you didn’t mind at all. You looked around at the little shark tooth necklaces and snickered at the large assortment of mood rings. You checked the price on a few of them, four dollars a piece. You didn’t have much, but you would keep them in mind. They were definitely something you though Namjoon would appreciate. 

The sales woman was a lot older; very friendly, and didn’t have much care for personal space. But Namjoon didn’t seem to mind, even when the woman was forking through his hair without asking. Though you might not be able to know if he did have a problem, he could barely get a word in.

“Ohhh! Sweetheart! You’ll love this!” You heard the older woman exclaim, and it wasn’t the first time.

“I do!-”

“Great! I can wrap it for you! It’ll be $10! oHH, wait right there sweety I know something else you’ll just die for!” 

You snickered at the whole encounter, still wondering and touching things lightly. Part of you was evilly waiting to see what would happen when the woman found out he was broke. But --she did have shorts in her shop, and that was something he genuinely needed. You made your way around until you were met eye to eye with Namjoon again. You raised your brows at him in a silent question of “Are you ok?”  He nodded and blinked, averting his eyes to see where the woman had gone looking. He leaned into you to whisper in your ear shortly after.

“What is a dollar?” You grinned at the innocent question. 

“Its money. What do you all use for money down there anyway?” You whispered back. Not that some random old woman would know you were conversing with a merman about merman currency, but you felt weird speaking any louder.

“Oh, we barter. I think some other cultures of moonchildren use money though.”

“So there’s more of you than just where you’re from?” You asked genuinely curious, and he frowned at you like you had just asked the dumbest question in the world.

“Of course?” 

“Hey, I didn’t know any existed two hours ago. And you didn’t know about humans, so don’t even.” 

He paused.

“..That’s fair.” 

Just then the old women popped back up with what she had been rummaging for. 

“This here!” She held out an elaborate necklace in her hands. Most of it was made up of several cords with tiny pearlescent blue beads, both sides coming around to the center to hold a good sized oyster shell with moon phases carved into it. It was beautiful; and she was right, he loved it. He gasped when he saw it, holding out his palms for the women to place it in. 

“Oh! This is so beautiful! The carving here is so precise, this can’t have been done with a shell pick..” He spun the necklace around in his hands, feeling all the beads and even holding it up to see the moon phases against the sunlight. 

“But I don’t have any dollars..” The woman’s demeanor changed, just as you knew it would. She reached up for his hands with her short stature, securing the necklace away from him. 

“No money, no sale.” 

“How much is it?” You spoke watching the sad swirl in Namjoon’s eyes. The women almost looked shocked at you, as if she truly didn’t see you until you spoke to her. 

“$60.”

“$60? You’re kidding. Those beads are coated plastic, I can tell from here.” 

The old women scoffed.

“$40, take it or leave it.” You were about to say something when Namjoon intervened.

“What if we trade? I’ll give you a good pearl for it.” You cringed out of your skin when he said that. You knew how much pearls could be worth, and all of the pearls on his body looked worth well more that a $40 necklace. They could go for thousands. 

‘Wait!-” You Grabbed at Namjoons wrists before he could do anything foolish.

“Its ok y/n, I won’t miss it.” He untied what looked like a tiny pouch at his forearm. It was so heavily decorated you wouldn’t have ever known it had a function. You peaked over his shoulder to look inside, and your eyes went wide as you saw at least sixty or so perfect pearls. 

‘Wait, wait!” You held your hand out again between them both. 

“If you’re going to trade, a good pearl for that necklace, and pair of shorts and shoes for him. How does that sound?” You looked between them both as they both nodded. “And a mood ring” You added. “The nicest one you’ve got.”

“Yes, sure sure. But the pearl better be real.” Namjoon pulled out a little one. It was perfectly round, and the way it shinned almost made it look like it was glowing. The women's eyes went wide as he brought it closer to her, popping it right in her hands. She looked it over with a big grin on her face, and you wanted to scream about what a waste that was. But if Namjoon was happy, that’s what mattered. “The shorts?” You questioned to snap her out of her trance. “Oh yes! Ohh, and I have the perfect ones for you! Hold on just a minute!” The old women jumped up with glee, making her way over to the other side of her little booth. “Come ‘round this way dear! You’ll need to try these on!” Namjoon looked at you unsure, and you simply nodded and gestured for him to go where the women asked. She pulled out a pair of blue and purple tie dye shorts with a large lizard embroidered by the bottom left hem. He smiled as soon as she pulled them out, and you wondered if somehow within the past 15 minutes if she had really cracked the code to understanding his exact tastes, or if he would have smiled like that at anything. 

“You’ll love these!”

“I do!-”

“Go on, into the dressing room you go!” Your heart clenched a bit as she squished him into the tiny two foot dressing room. It was all made up of black curtains, and something you yourself would be horrified to get undressed in in such an open area. But seeing as how Namjoon was already naked.. It should be fine?..

He had never even seen shorts before until today, and putting them on might be more confusing for him than you would imagine. As the seconds went by you started to worry.

What if he tore them, or what if while trying to balance he fell right through the curtain and took the whole booth with him. What if he didn’t understand where his legs should go, or if he put them on backwards? As your heart was beginning to race Namjoon made his way out of the dressing room, his new perfectly fitted shorts worn correctly. 

“Oh they’re perfect on you! See look in the mirror! How are they? Do you love them!?” 

“I do!-” 

“Good good! Oh you deserve this too!” She pulled out a little white linen vest almost out of thin air and started to help him place his arms through its holes as Namjoon watched himself in the mirror. 

“Oh! its perfect! This one is on the house! You look like a handsome little merman!” You smirked at the accuracy the old woman was unaware of.

“Oh! Thank you!-” 

“Beautiful, beautiful! You and your girlfriend have to come back and visit sometime!” 

“Uh, we’re not-” You started, but no one heard you -and the suggestion seemed to go right over Namjoon’s head.

“Thank you ma’am! I feel brand new!” 

Namjoon bowed his head a little as he held the old woman's hands in thanks.

It didn’t take the women long to wrap up his new necklace in a cute little gift bag, or to let him pick some matching flip flops and a mood ring that peaked his interest. You made sure to grab one of the cards that tell you what all the colors mean, you were sure that could be fun to bring up later. And to maybe see if his ever changing eye color matched up. 

Namjoon was strange and other worldly to have around, but despite his circumstances you were excited to watch him see your world for the first time. Maybe he would help you see things in a new light too, maybe moonlight for a change.

[thetriggeredhappy]

day 3 of sniperscout week lets GOOOOOOOO

[[Day 3: Distance | Touch]]

@sniperscout-ship-week

-

Sixteen years after he first killed a man for money, twelve years after he signed a contract to work for Mann Co., eight years after that team disbanded, seven and a half years after they came back and he found his parents and died and was brought back to life again by a mad doctor, seven years after he was officially released from his contract, and he still couldn’t convince himself that the team meant nothing. That his time there meant nothing. But at the very least, he’d gotten better at not thinking about it.

He heard Medic had fled to Russia with Heavy (to work on more medical experimentation and weapons testing, respectively), and that the Engineer just went back home to Texas (selling his inventions to the next highest bidder and apparently not signing on for long-term projects anymore). Pyro disappeared into the wind, as did Soldier (although Demo apparently heard from him now and then). Last he’d heard, Spy was still working with Miss Pauling (apparently owed her the favor), and Demo had quit drinking and moved to the Midwest to work some respectable job somewhere. And by the time Sniper packed back up and left, Scout was still kicking around the base, hadn’t even headed home yet. He didn’t say a proper goodbye, not to anyone but Miss Pauling. She’d nodded and told him his last paycheck would be sent to his house and wished him good luck. He’d nodded and wished her the same. She deserved that, at least.

And for seven years, he regretted that he didn’t say goodbye to everyone else too, but not much could be done. He’d already thrown himself back into freelance assassin work a week later.

As it turned out, his tenure with the team had given him a wider set of skills than before, and he very quickly found himself climbing the ranks among the criminal underground as not just a crackshot, but a skilled hand-to-hand combatant, able to passably handle most fights, most combat situations. And his poker face was alright, and his manners passable for short periods of time, but he didn’t quite have the interpersonal situations down pat. They called that his weakness. He would agree, if that wouldn’t make him lose face.

He got hired on to smaller crews for shorter periods of time—no experimental medicine or miracle machines, mostly just other specialists for heists or elaborate assassinations or hits or gang conflicts. He tried to stick to a few rules with himself—to steer clear of the mob, to not work with police (public or secret), to not take on a job that would last him more than five months. And it made his life much more simple, overall. He didn’t make many enemies, he didn’t make many friends, all he made was a respectable name for himself as a professional and a considerable amount of money.

Not that he had much to spend it on. Mostly it just piled up in one of his several international accounts, gathering dust, making him wince whenever he checked on it.

All of that said, he did see the occasional familiar face.

The contract of the day was for a bloke who only went by the alias of Nines. A heist on some bloke he used to work with, and they needed someone on the roofs to cover the escape and provide reconnaissance, and someone who wouldn’t flinch at the idea of popping a few heads. There were five other people on the heist team, including Nines himself. Two for going in to find the vault, two to hold down the fort and hostages, one to drive the second getaway vehicle in case things went south (which Sniper understood by then to mean the person who would be driving all the way out to pick him up).

He met three of the five, Nines (to get the first half of the money) and the two who would be taking hostages. All of them were about as expected—built, tattoo’d, scarred. Not as scary as some of the Aussies that he worked with, but intimidating regardless, except for the fact that he had a good half a foot on Nines and a few inches on the other two. Nines admitted that he’d expected someone buffer when he’d tried to hire an Australian. Sniper—or Mundy, as he went by those days—said that he got that a lot.

He was told how to recognize the team from afar (so he didn’t accidentally pop a head they needed), by the bright orange apparel they all had, in the form of scarves or bandanas or gloves or, in the case of the getaway driver, a biker’s helmet. He agreed to wear a bandanna hesitantly, although he knew it probably wouldn’t matter.

And three days before the heist he did his reconnaissance work, and the day of the heist he climbed up two hours early and settled in to wait. And he got the go message over the walkie-talkie, and he stared down his scope and waited.

He saw the four enter the building. Fifteen minutes in, he heard the first gunshot. Ten minutes later, distantsirens. Thirty seconds later, a car he didn’t recognize screeching around the corner towards the building. He had to pop two tires to get it to careen off course into a fire hydrant, and one more bullet through the windshield had the horn laying on.

A car he did recognize peeled off around the building and floored it down the street, and Sniper managed to down the two people who got out of the first car before they could fire a shot.

“We’ve got what we need,” came a voice through the walkie-talkie—Nines, he was fairly sure. “Meet back up at the third drop point.” 

Third. That meant things had gone rather well, but not spectacularly. They’d be running from the police for quite a while. “Right,” he said, voice raised a bit as the sirens got closer, closer. “My own way?”

“No,” said Nines, and he heard distant gunshots, then the same rhythm through the radio on a delay. “Backup, get Mundy. South of the building.”

Sniper inhaled, exhaled. Slung his gun over his shoulder and bolted for the fire escape.

He hadn’t even made it out of the alleyway before he heard the screeching of tires, and a motorcycle peeled around in an uneven spin, coming to a stop near the mouth of the alley, and the person on the back frantically gestured for him to hop on. It was possible they were shouting something, but he couldn’t hear through the helmet and over the sirens, the lights starting to flash against the buildings behind them, putting them in silhouette. But if he squinted he could still tell the helmet was bright orange, so he vaulted onto the back, already reaching into his vest for his handgun before he even secured his free hand in the back of their jacket—leather, apparently.

He’d give the backup driver one thing—the bugger knew how to weave.

Only took them about fifteen misses (and ten near-misses in terms of almost getting hit by oncoming traffic) and half an hour before they’d effectively lost the police and could safely beeline towards the third drop point, out just past the city limits behind some condemned building—maybe once a convenience store.

He allowed himself to take a deep breath when they finally came to a stop, to knead at the bridge of his nose and start working through the headache all the noise and dodging and adrenaline had given him. Hell, maybe he was getting too old for this. He got off the bike and moved to check over his gun for damage.

The rest of them weren’t there yet. Would probably be another hour or so, assuming they did the smart thing and decided to lie low and steal another car to make their way over to the drop point.

The bolt was sticking on his gun, but that wasn’t too strange. It happened.

He looked up. The person on the motorcycle was staring at him. Openly, obviously staring, visor fully turned towards him. Now that he had a moment to look, he could tell it was a bloke, the leather jacket big enough to add some bulk, but on closer inspection he was clearly smaller than Sniper. And he was just sitting on the bike and staring.

He was hit with understanding, and moved to pick up his walkie-talkie, hitting to broadcast button. “This is Mundy, you lot awright?” he asked.

Nothing for a few seconds. “Nines, and yeah. Some wounds but we’ll live. Gonna lie low, patch up a bit, loop out past city limits, steal a car, be there in forty,” was his response, crisp and unwavering. “You?”

“No injuries,” Sniper said, glanced up at the driver, who didn’t respond at all, so he assumed he was right. “We’ll wait here. Updates welcome any time.”

“Good,” Nines said, and cut off, and it was silent.

And the driver was still staring.

Sniper glanced away awkwardly, pulled off his bandana, shoving it in his vest pocket. Checked over his gun again, slung it back onto his back, checked his handgun. After a moment of consideration he took the magazine out and flicked the safety, storing both away.

The driver was still staring.

Alright, then. Sniper squared his shoulders, tilted his chin up, and stared right back.

Leather jacket, some patches he didn’t recognize. Pins, too. Shoes good for running, busted half to hell. Jeans. Maybe a bulletproof vest, he wasn’t sure.

He squinted at his hands, there on the handlebars. At first he thought there were bandages on them, but after a moment he recognized it as grip tape. Odd. He hadn’t thought this bloke was meant to go in with the rest of the crew, and there he was gearing up like he was about to get into a fistfight. Overprepared, maybe. Couldn’t exactly fault him for that—better safe than sorry—but most people would rather just carry a knife if they thought they’d be in close combat, not wrap their hands. He hadn’t met many people who went to that trouble unless they knew for sure they’d be in a scrap. And even then they usually wore gloves, not just the tape. Or brass knuckles.

It was odd to him in a way he couldn’t entirely articulate, put a strange little hole in his chest.

And then the driver moved to pull his helmet off, and the hole widened into a crevice.

“Snipes?” he said, phrased like a question, but there was certainty there.

“Holy dooley,” Sniper managed, throat suddenly tight. “Scout?”

He looked different. Older, for one, face shaping out to be a little sharper, although his eyes were still bright, cheeks still dotted with freckles, front teeth still big and ever-so-slightly goofy. There was a scar just above his eye and just below his eyebrow, and one of his ears was crinkled with a scar, and he had a piercing through his lip. He’d grown his hair out a little at the top, although the sides were still cut short.

“Recognize that piece’a shit gun anywhere,” Scout said, and the piercing flashed as his mouth crooked into a grin.

“Oi,” Sniper defended, voice hoarse as he fell automatically back into a decade-old rhythm. “Still aims straight, don’t it?”

And Scout laughed, and it was familiar, and the rift in his chest threatened to split him in two.

Before he could figure out exactly what to say, Scout was reaching into his own jacket, pulling forth a squished, dented carton and shaking a cigarette out of it. Sniper frowned, and Scout misread it, pausing before he put it back away. “Want one?” he offered easily.

“Nah,” Sniper said, and Scout shrugged, and moved to light it. “Pretty sure I always told you to never start smoking, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, then you ran off on everyone overnight,” Scout hummed easily around the cigarette, shielding the lighter from a passing chilly wind as he lit it, and Sniper flinched a little. Scout glanced back up once he had it lit, and the quirk of his lip was a little sadder. “Hey, I get it, man,” he said, a bit halfhearted, straightening back up. “Just, y’know.”

He did know.

Scout leaned back against the motorbike, moved to start spinning the ring of keys on his finger. “Kinda wish you’d said goodbye, at least. Left a phone number to call. Address to write to. A fuckin’ handshake, even—“

“I’m sorry,” Sniper cut in.

Scout went quiet, looked at him. Sniper couldn’t quite look back.

“Didn’t… want to get your hopes up,” Sniper tried.

“Didn’t want me to slug you a new one, more like,” Scout quipped.

Quiet for a few long moments.

“Like, you know the guys have been tryin’ to stay in touch, right?” Scout said next. “Been meeting up again every year or so. Pretty much everyone shows up.”

“Pretty much?”

“Well, one year Doc and the big guy didn’t show up because Heavy had a family thing, and Spy’s always a douche about it and barely sticks around, and Miss P can’t usually make it, but… yeah. Everyone but you at least writes.”

He was a little surprised to hear that.

Scout looked at him, and sighed after a second. Drew his hand back through that new haircut. Stared off towards the road. The street lamps flicked on as evening approached. A passing wind made Sniper pull his jacket on a little tighter, adjust his hat. Scout didn’t shift in the slightest. Always said he was built a little better for the cold. And it was quiet.

“We all figured you were dead, man,” Scout murmured, and Sniper crumbled a little. “Like, most of us stayed in shady jobs like this, but you went totally off radar. What did you think we’d figure?”

He knew that ‘sorry’ wouldn’t cut it. He didn’t know what would cut it. Luckily, Scout wasn’t the type to play guessing games.

“Next reunion is next month. We’re meeting at Hardhat’s. He’s making barbecue,” Scout said, tone firm, only wavering the slightest bit to give away that he was more upset than he let on. “And you’re gonna go, and you’re gonna eat the damn barbecue and tell us all where the hell you’ve been and where the hell you’re goin’ and then you’re gonna write down some numbers and call goddamn somebody every few months so we know you didn’t get your dumb ass murked, and you’re gonna listen to Heavy rambling about his nieces and nephews and Hardhat rambling about his twenty dogs and then you’re gonna do the same fuckin’ thing next year, got it?”

“Heavy has nieces and nephews?” Sniper asked a little weakly.

Scout nodded, crossing his arms. “Like five of ‘em, last I checked. His sister and Soldier haven’t got any yet, just raccoons, but his other two sisters got married a couple years back.”

“Good on them,” Sniper said, a little surprised.

“Yeah, lots happened. Demo was dating for a while, Hardhat too, haven’t heard anything major. Miss P has a girlfriend, probably gonna get engaged or somethin’.”

“Yeah?” he asked, wincing a little, trying to scan Scout’s expression for any bitterness or disappointment.

“Yeah,” he nodded, and he saw none. “She’s pretty cool. She makes Miss P take breaks from work and everything, so, they’re pretty good for each other.”

“Have the Doc and Heavy…?” Sniper trailed.

“I mean, shit, do you wanna ask?” Scout said, and there was a hint of a laugh in his tone. “You remember what happened any time anyone tried to get in the Doc’s business. Demo’s lucky he got that liver back.”

Sniper’s shoulders shook with a laugh.

“They’re still livin’ together last I checked, so, we can guess some stuff,” Scout said. “And we are not talking’ about Spy, and what the fuck Mumbles is doing is anyone’s guess at this point. Only ever talk to Hardhat anyways.”

“What about you?” Sniper blurted, and held his breath.

Scout looked at him. Chewed the inside of his cheek for a second. Pulled the cigarette from between his lips, tapped the ash out off to one side. His piercing glinted.

“What about me?” he asked, clearly trying to keep his tone level, but there was that little furrow to his eyebrow that always gave him away.

Sniper swallowed back as much nervousness as he could handle. “You… have any life changes?” he asked slowly. “…Dating anyone?”

He chose those words carefully. Didn’t use ‘boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend’. Left it open to interpretation. By the deepening of that furrow in his eyebrow, it was clearly interpreted.

“Not right now,” he answered, and on one hand it didn’t say much of anything and on the other it said far too much, and Sniper berated himself for daring to feel jealous. His eyes were locked on a street lamp. “Tried. Got broken up with a few times, y’know, the works.”

“Why?”

“Well, either they didn’t like my job, or they didn’t have the patience to put up with me,” Scout said, and there was the bitterness he’d expected earlier, and Sniper wasn’t sure if it was aimed at those people or at him.

“You’re not that frustrating,” Sniper tried.

“Yeah, well,” Scout said, and crushed out the last of his cigarette beneath his shoe, shoved his hands into his pockets, “thirty-somethin’ years I’ve been kickin’ around and apparently you’re the only person who’s ever thought that, and you still ran off.”

Scout let him simmer in that for a long few minutes, staring off at nothing, letting him pick his words. Before, on the team, he probably wouldn’t have had the patience. But he’d mellowed out, it seemed like. Or maybe just hollowed out. He had dark circles under his eyes, visible now with him looking off towards street lamp.

“If it’s any consolation, I wish I hadn’t.” Sniper finally said. Scout snorted a laugh. “Scout, I mean it.”

“Whatever, ’Mundy’, sure,” Scout all but spat. “That’s why you didn’t call, or write, or what the hell ever else—“

“I just,” Sniper cut in, and he wished he had time to think his words over, but he didn’t, so he just said the first thing he could think of—the truth. “The longer I was away the more scared I was that I’d call and you’d be dead. It was easier to miss you and think you were alive than to miss you because I knew you were dead.”

Scout looked at him. The furrow was gone.

“And—and I did,” Sniper said, sure his face was red. “Miss you, I mean.”

“Yeah?” Scout asked quietly.

Sniper nodded.

It was quiet for a few seconds. Scout was chewing on the inside of his cheek again.

“You haven’t been in town long, right? I would’ve heard about you,” Scout said. Sniper nodded again, a little confused by the subject change. “There’s this bar right outside of town. We should go.”

Sniper nodded again, feeling assorted muscles in his back relax, relief washing over him.

Scout checked his own watch, rolled his eyes. “If Nines ever fuckin’ gets here,” he muttered, shoved his hands back in his pockets exaggeratedly, feigning true annoyance, and Sniper chuckled at it, the way he always had.

[marriael]

Be my Latibule? (Changbin x Reader)

@skzrequests​

Request: My pace 24 w changbin? uwu im a sucker for the idea of tattooist bin lmao I so vibed with this request, I love thinking about tattoist bin

Word count: 3717

a/n: part of the reason this took so long is I had to restart it twice :(

You walk into work at Insomnia Coffee Shop and your co-worker, Sohee, greets you.

“Anyone fun yet?” You ask. She's usually in when the store opens and often gets the most interesting customers.

“Not today. But yesterday a cute guy came in and ordered 3 americanos. Turns out it was for him and 2 friends. I tried to give them for free cause he looked half dead but he wouldn't let me. Who even does that?“

While she was talking you had slipped on the ugly orange apron and scowl when you noticed someone double knotted and didn't untie the strings.

You shake your head, “probably a college student pulling an all-nighter. What college student turns down free anything? Ugh, I wish some cute barista offered me free coffee, just, ever.”

Sohee turns and passes the drink over the counter. “For Jeno!”

A cute guy comes up to grab and winks at her before he turns to the door. Your jaw drops a little and you slap her shoulder.

“Is he a regular?” You ask.

“Nope. Said he got a recommendation from a friend and went out of his way to come. Weird day to do it though.”

You hum as the next customer comes in and you get thoroughly distracted. It isn’t until he comes up to the counter and speaks that you stop staring blankly.

“1 latte, 1 americano,” his voice is low and rough and he’s a little bit intimidating honestly. He’s got a small bit of a tattoo poking out one of the sleeves and you try and look at it before you have to turn around.

“Is that a tattoo?” You ask him when you turn around.

He rolls the short sleeve up to his shoulder to expose the full tattoo and you stare at the simple beauty of the moon and stars.

“Woah, that’s cool!” Sohee must’ve seen him just in her peripheral… or she was staring like you. You nod emphatically in agreement.

He blushes a little and says “thanks. Couldn’t reach this part of my arm or else I would’ve done it myself, but I still drew it.”

“Do you work at a tattoo parlour then?”

“Yeah, I do a lot of the designs for our place,”

You gasp, “can I come look at them? Please?” You pout trying to convince him to accept your strange request. You just felt something pulling you towards these drawings and the man who made them.

He looks at you for a moment then says, “yeah, let me give you the address. When you come in just ask for Changbin.”

He pulls out a random business card, not his unfortunately, and writes down the address. He slides it over and covers his smile with a sip.

You turn back to the coffee machines as he walks out the door but Mina stops you.

“Changbin huh? He was pretty cute,” she smirks.

“Hush your mouth and get back to work, brat.”

“Nuh-uh! I get to leave now but if, no no not if when, you meet him we're talking about this later.”

The next day was Tuesday and, thankfully, it was mostly empty of things for you. So you pull out the piece of paper Changbin gave you and looked up the address.

It was just a couple blocks down from the coffee shop and you head out. The building is small and squished right between a bakery and a florist, basically some cheesy romance just waiting to happen.

You walked in and looked around. There were corkboards on either sidewall and they were filled with drawings pinned to them. The bottoms of them fluttered a little at the draft you brought with you.

When you looked at him the man behind the counter raised an eyebrow at you. Ah, so it was very obvious you wouldn't be in here often.

You let out a little nervous laugh, “hi, Changbin told me to come see him here?”

The man raised both eyebrows at that. You fiddled as he looked you over again then laughed a little. “Changbin!” He suddenly yelled.

From one of the closed side rooms comes a muffled voice “go away Chan, I’m busy!”

The man at the desk, Chan, turns back to you “sorry, he’s always like this. He’s probably just sketching a custom.”

“Oh, I can come back later if he’s busy.”

Chan doesn’t answer you and instead yells at Changbin again “I know you’re not actually busy. Your partner is here to see you!”

“Hey!” You protest but Chan just grins at you as you hear the door open.

“Chan what the hell are you-” Changbin cuts himself off and gently smiles when he sees you “hey, didn’t think you were actually gonna come.”

You smile back at him. He looks much softer when he’s smiling and you were briefly caught off guard.

“Tell me again about how you’re not dating or at least interested, “ Chan’s eyes flick between the shy but wide smiles on yours and Changbin’s faces.

Changbin rolls his eyes but inclines his head towards the door he was behind and you follow behind him. He closes the door most of the way behind you and then moves to sit at the desk in the far corner. There are more drawings in here and you assume all of them are his. It’s a wide variety of subjects, from small sketches of animals and plants to large and detailed fantasy creatures.

“Sorry about Chan, he’s always delighted in teasing anyone who’s younger than him,” Changbin shakes his head, probably at Chan even though he can’t see or hear in the room.

“Have you two known each other a long time then?” You ask and tilt your head a little.

“Ah, yeah,” Changbin looks at you again, “most of us met in high school and a couple joined right at the start of college. College was really when our whole group started getting close, too.”

“Sounds nice,” you were paying attention to him, promise, but with such wonderful drawings surrounding you, you really couldn’t help it if your attention drifted a bit.

Changbin notices and raises an eyebrow slightly, “interested in getting one?”

“What? Oh, no no, not right now at least. They’re just… really, really good.”

Changbin immediately looks down and smiles, and you could swear he was blushing a bit but when he looks back up it's gone.

“There’s a couple hidden ones in here that aren’t mine. Think you can spot ‘em?” He challenges.

You immediately head up to one of the boards and stand about 5 centimetres away. You push a couple of them up and out of the way, making sure to be careful. There really is all sorts of stuff, Changbin must be pretty busy. A rushing river done with such detail you can almost see it moving. Swirls that when you look just right suddenly snap into focus to make an abstract, soaring bird. Nature moulded with a person or item in such a seamless way that there is not a difference between them, they are simply one continuous sight.

You’re looking for hidden drawings, not ogling at Changbin’s skills. Right. When you move one more there is a small piece of paper. There is… something on it. Either Changbin drew this when he was about 5 years old or it was someone else.

“Hey, I found one. I don’t even know what this is though, it looks like a squiggle.”

Changbin laughs, “hold on.”

He comes and looks right over your shoulder. You can feel his hot breath on your ear and feel his chest move when he laughs at the drawing again. You quickly reign in the slight disappointment when he moves away.

“Yeah, that’s the thing Chan keeps trying to make our mascot. Felix and I won’t let him so until one of us breaks it’s two against one,” he shrugs and it doesn’t look like he feels bad at all.

“Do all your friends have a drawing stashed in here somewhere?”

“Well, I’ve seen at least 16 drawings put in here so yes they all have one. Some of them and Felix, Jisung’s special twin, has hidden at least 4. There’s probably more that he did when I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Ugh, how many friends do you even have. If it’s more than, like, 6 I might be genuinely angry.”

Changbin practically cackles, “well then get ready to be absolutely furious. There’s 9 of us, including myself and everyone I’ve already mentioned.”

“That’s not even fair! How have you all been friends for so long without someone murdering someone else.”

“Oh, believe me. Seungmin’s wanted to. Unfortunately, his best friends are some of our greatest problem children. Though sometimes I'm pretty sure he'll murder them first.”

“Any other possible murderers I should worry about seeing?” You flip a couple more pictures up, still passively looking for any other weird drawings.  

“Hm, Minho's murderous intentions are usually directed at Jisung. He'd do it for his cats too, though. He definitely fits in well.”

“Were there concerns about him not fitting in?”

“Yeah 'cause, he was the last one to join us, but he’s just as chaotic if not more. For Chan’s graduation night he insisted on using some mini firework things he found. Nearly lit himself and Jisung on fire with the very first one.”

Something clicks in your brain. You’ve heard this story before, from one of your random classmates. He was… interesting, to put it politely.

“Are you talking about Lee Minho? The smug bastard who tried to get everyone to call him Lee Know for like 5 months? And Han Jisung, my co-worker kind of, that I’m pretty sure hates me for some reason?”

“Wait, you know them? And why do you think Jisung hates you?”

“Yeah, Minho was my weird classmate. I’m like 90% sure Jisung hates me because he barely looks at me and gives one-word answers to all of my questions. I don’t really see him other than during shift switches but still!”

“I think Minho actually might have mentioned you before. And Jisung is just like that around people he doesn’t know. Trust me, he actually has the capacity to be the loudest person in the room. By far.”

“Huh, I wonder how many of your friends I actually know.”

"Well, we're hanging out on Thursday. Do you want to come with and meet some more of them?”

You hum thoughtfully, thinking of any possible commitments you had made lately, “I probably can but can I bring Sohee? Just so I know someone there?”

“Do I still not count as someone you know?” He whines and pouts a little for the extra effect.

“Not enough. If you all go off on some inside joke I need someone to be confused with.”

“Actually fair, because it might happen. I’ll let you know when and where we’re going later then.”

You pull out your phone and extend it to him, when he looks at it confused you raise an eyebrow, “unless you plan to send it by bird I recommend putting your number in my phone.”

He makes a surprised noise and keeps his eyes away from you and on your phone. It has not spread to his face but under his dark hair his bright red ears peek out just enough for you to see. Even when handing it back he doesn’t look at you and you smile at his bashfulness.

“See ya soon, Bin. I work again tomorrow.”

Directions are not always your strong suit. You’d like to believe they are and that’s how you end up like this, no map and unsure of what direction you should even look in.

“You look lost,” a voice comes from behind you.

You spin around. A tall puppy-like guy is standing behind you, he looks slightly amused and you’re betting it’s at your expense.

“Yeah, do you know where M.I.A Café is?”

“Oh,” he nods, “yeah I’m going there. Let’s go.”

It’s slightly awkward, walking this distance with someone you don’t know. You search your brain with how to start a conversation with someone.

“Are you… meeting someone at the café?” You ask, slightly awkward.

“Yeah, a couple of my friends.”

“Huh, so am I. Well, actually, it’s someone else’s friends and I’m just kinda tagging along,” you shrug, realizing how awkward this will probably be.

“Good luck with that,” he says as he holds the door for you.

You enter and scan the tables for Changbin’s face. You wave and slip into the chair opposite him. On the edge of the table thankfully, hopefully Sohee can recognize the back of your head. Someone sits next to you and you get a little shock seeing who it is.

He grins at you, “hey stranger.”

The guy you walked all that way with one of Changbin’s friends!

Changbin looks between you confusedly, “you know Seungmin?”

“He helped me get here. I might have gotten a little lost.”

“A little, ok. You had no idea where you were,” Seungmin snarks.

“Maybe so!”

“Well good to know you get along with another one of my friends already,” Changbin interjects.

Someone comes up and sits beside Changbin.

“Hey, I’m Hyunjin,” he greets you simply.

You give him a little wave. You don’t like judging people so fast but he’s a little intimidating.

You hear a little scrape of a chair beside and Sohee pops down at the end of the table.

“Sohee, you made it!”

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” she sticks out her tongue at you.

“I’ve seen you somewhere before,” Hyunjin speaks up and you whip your head towards him.

Sohee looks at him and squints for a moment. They start looking at each other for so long that you think they’re actually just having a staring contest. You think you recognize someone walking outside but when you actually look out the window you have no idea who any of them are. It’s still a nice day out, maybe you can go out somewhere after this.

“Oh! You’re the guy I thought was going to drink 3 americanos the other day!”

“Sohee~” you sing.

“What?” She looks at you, annoyed.

“You forgot an important detail that you told me about him.”

She looks genuinely confused for a moment before catching on and shaking her head, “shut up, nope nope nope.”

“You think he’s cute!” You cackle.

You, Changbin, and Seungmin make fun of Sohee and Hyunjin for a little while. It backfires when Sohee manages to sneakily turn the attention on you, well you and Changbin. Together, you being together.

“Yeah, and you stared at him for so long when he came in!” Sohee says.

“Sohee, kindly shut your mouth,” you reply, smiling the most pained and fake smile ever.

“Ok, please don’t pour your drink on me, I’m afraid. Also we work together so I’m coming for you.”

You just roll your eyes at her, you didn’t actually scare her and you both know that. She just likes to be some sort of annoying sister to you.

Hyunjin clears his throat and when you look at him his eyes are bright. He smiles sneakily and says, “you should hear about the time Changbin actually poured his drink on someone.”

“Hyunjin that was an accident and you know it!” Changbin exclaims, attempting to shoulder check a giggling Hyunjin.

You breeze into Blueprint Tattoos and Chan looks up in surprise.

“Hey there, didn’t know you were coming in today.”

You let out a single, unnatural ‘ha’, “I didn’t know either but uh, here I am.”

“Well, Changbin’s in his usual spot. I don’t think he has anything today.”

“Thanks,” you nod stiffly.

Looking around at the cork boards you can see some of them definitely done in Changbin’s style and a handful more you suspect would be his. You breathe out heavily and slouch a little before straightening and walking towards where Changbin should be, full of false confidence.

“Are you ok?” Chan asks and when you look over his eyebrows are furrowed and his forehead pinched down a little. The concern from someone you barely know is a little unusual but the warmth you get from it is welcoming.

“Yeah, just a little nervous you know?” You force a small laugh but you know it’s not convincing.

“Oh!” Chan exclaims, “well if this is what I think it is then good luck.”

Chan’s face is completely relaxed and you feel a little bit bad for making him worry so much. You’re not entirely sure what he thinks you’re doing but you smile at his kindness as you open Changbin’s door.

He has headphones in and doesn’t hear when you close the door behind you. You stand there for a minute, back against the door, just looking at him. Most people move to what they’re listening to but the only thing moving is his hand and it glides across the page. You have no idea what he’s doing but you just hope he’ll show it to you when he’s done.

You take a big breath in and out before approaching him. Tapping his shoulder gently you hope not to cause him to jerk his arm and ruin a line or anything. He stops completely and pulls his headphones out. He looks a little annoyed but then he looks up to see you and his face eases.

“Hi! I didn’t know you were coming today. Anything specific on the brain or did you just want to hang out with Best Friend Binnie?” He gives you an exaggerated and comical wink.

“Give me a tattoo?” You say, surprisingly calm for how jittery you actually feel.

“Wait, what? Are you sure? Like really sure?”

You roll your eyes like a stereotypical teenager would at their parents, that is to say, so far back it felt like they would disappear into your head, “no, Changbin, I’m not sure. I’ve really only been thinking about it basically since the first time I walked into this room.”

“That was only a week ago,” Changbin deadpans.

“Yeah, and?”

Changbin shakes his head, “I’m not going to give you a tattoo you’ll regret.”

You look around at the drawings. Feeling like that one action gave this decision away as way more spontaneous than it had originally seemed. Yes, you had been thinking about getting one and getting Changbin to do it for you but doing it today specifically was a complete impulse.

“I’m not going to regret it! Bin, please,” you pout at him.

Changbin tilts his head to look at the ceiling as if it will give him some guidance.

“What do you want?”

You clap your hands excitedly and then hesitate again.

“Well, I know I want a flower but… I want you to choose which one. I want it to be a flower with a good meaning behind it.”

Changbin nods and stands there considering your request. You take the time to look around his office again. Staring at all the intricate drawings on the walls you feel a bit dorky choosing to get a simple flower. Your eyes briefly catch on two stylized drawings of the word SpearB. One of them has a cute little ‘Binnie~’ under it and the other has a messy ‘Chanathan’ in English and Korean.

There are a couple of flowers scattered throughout the room so you’re a bit surprised when you hear Changbin ripping a page out of his sketchbook. His back is to you so you can’t see him cutting it down to a size to la and trace on your body. You can hear the gentle snips of scissors as you distract yourself with rows of flowers connected and individual petals with such detail you could believe them being real.

You watch as he gently traces the pattern onto your skin. You don’t recognize the flower right away but it looks delicate and beautiful. You think you catch him glancing up at you a few times but you’re pretty sure the clock is behind you and he’s looking at that.

You zone out almost entirely as he prepares. Well, it’s not exactly zoning out. You’d say it’s appreciation of an attractive man, your friends would say that you’re just checking him out.

Ok, so what if you are? Changbin’s shirt has no sleeves which means his arms are on full display which means that you can’t stop looking at the muscles flexing as he moves. Thankfully you’re conscious enough to look away when he turns back around.

The buzz of the gun wakes you up and Changbin is looking at you.

“All good?” He asks.

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

You watch for a moment as he starts going and the ink sinks permanently into your skin. It’s a strange thing to conceptualize, something being on your body forever. You catch a glimpse of Changbin’s concentrated face and you get completely distracted by him. If this is what he looks like everytime he gives a tattoo then you want to observe, even study, him.

His mouth is set in a firm line and eyebrows pinched slight inwards and downwards. His eyes are wide and focused and if you look closely enough you can see every slight movement of his irises following his hand around.

Neither of you say a word and you don’t dare move to try and look at the clock or your phone. Just watching and waiting in silence, but together. A shared silence is different than one had alone.

Silences by yourself can feel wrong sometimes but this kind of silence with Changbin feels so right that you almost never want it to end.

Good things often come quicker than they should and soon the buzzing stops. You can hear phantom buzzing still and suspect you will for quite a while. You lift your arm and look at it, it’s finished now but you’re still not sure what it is and certainly not what it means.

“What is it?” You ask.

“An almond blossom. It, uh, it means promise.”

“Promise, huh?” You grin and look at Changbin's pink-ish face.

You expect him to have some witty comment but instead, he just smiles goofily and breathlessly says, “yeah.”

[marvels-writings]

When the World is Against Us (4)

Spirits Lifted

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch) Masterlist

Series Masterlist

| Preview | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | 

A/N: this one was effort, part 5 is gonna be intense

Everyone was keeping you in the dark on what was happening. All you knew was that the time was divided on the accords, Wanda was at the compound with Vision protecting her. Steve and someone named Sam was currently trying to track down someone named ‘Winter Soldier’. 

You looked at the picture at the bottom of the news report, it was a man who looked like he was in his mid 30’s, he had prominent brown stubble, bright blue-green eyes, shoulder-length brown hair, and a muscular build, his left arm was completely metal with a small red star at the top.

“Mom, what’s happening?” You asked, sitting on the couch and watching the News when you saw Steve chasing someone with a metal arm on a bike. You had changed out of your formal clothes into casual black jeggings, a white t-shirt, and your denim jacket was thrown on the bed.

“Oh my god.” She muttered you frowned when she switched off the TV, she was more panicked than you’ve ever seen her.

“We need to get to Tony.” She stated, picking up her jacket and throwing you yours, heading out of the hotel room hurriedly.

Natasha gave you a small explanation of what was happening, the Winter Soldier was one of Steve’s friends. He was almost a hundred years old, he had been experimented on by HYDRA and he had been turned into a weapon, the Vienna bombing was being blamed on him.

Once you and Natasha got there, she handed you off to Tony who was extremely stressed. He wore a Tom Ford three-piece steel suit with a brick red tie. He paced in a small glass room nervously, there were screens at the front of the room to monitor everything inside the building. 

“Tony, what’s going on?” You asked, he looked at you and sighed, sitting down on one of the chairs. You glanced at your mom talking to Steve on her way to you.

“Bucky, the guy with the metal arm over there,” Tony gestured to one of the monitors which showed a muscular man with long brown hair and green eyes strapped down into a chair, his left arm was metal.

“We think he bombed Vienna, but Steve doesn’t think so. If Steve doesn’t sign these accords, it’s gonna be a catastrophe.” He threw the accords down on the table and started pacing again.

You nodded and lounged back in one of the chairs, Steve came in and nodded at you. Natasha gestured for you to come with her, you stayed with her as she watched the interrogation. It was some psychologist evaluation, but something seemed off. 

“Mom, something is off about that guy.” You whispered to her, referring to the psychologist. 

Natasha turned to look at you and nodded, clenching her jaw and crossing her arms. The psychologist asked a few questions, it almost sounded like he was making small talk when the power suddenly cut out. Ross started yelling at people to get the surveillance back up. Steve darted out with Sam right behind him.

“Stay here,” Your mom instructed, you raised an eyebrow.

“Oh come on, I’ve been trained by the Avengers for christ’s sake, I can help.” You argued, your mom pursed her lips but you kept your eyebrow raised until she gave in.

Both of you ran after Tony who didn’t have a suit, only a glove. He shot Bucky with some sort of sonic ray which stunned him, your mom ran after him, using her signature move to try to drag him down, he picked her up instead, trying to slam him upside the head but he pinned her down on the table, holding her neck in a chokehold.

You pushed past Tony, running in and landing a perfect kick on the side of his face, blowing him back a few feet. Your mom choked on air, you helped her off the table and supported some of her weight when you noticed Bucky heading back towards you.

“Shit,” You muttered, pushing your mom to the side so the blow went to the side of your ribs instead.

His metal fist hit the side of your ribs with more force than you’d expected, the force of the punch blew you to the other side of the room, you sat there for a second, gasping. You lifted your shirt and checked your ribs in case they were broken, your ribs were now a bright red color, it was going to bruise.

You looked up to find your mom attacking Bucky furiously for hurting you. You saw the fury in her eyes when she glanced at you before Bucky threw her aside, heading angrily out the door when Tony tried to stop him. Bucky tried to shoot him, but the shot was blocked and he threw Tony at the table next to you.

He took down two Avengers as if it was nothing. You ran over to your mom, hand wandering over the bruise in your ribs as you went over to her, worry clouding your e/c eyes. The prince of Wakanda, T’challa attacked Bucky next, he seemed to be the only one capable of holding him off. 

“Mom, are you okay?” You gasped, kneeling in front of her, her whole neck was red and she was still coughing, hand wandering over her back where Bucky had thrown her. 

“Never better, you?” Natasha answered, smirking weakly at you. You rolled your eyes and bent down to help her up and out of there, making a mental note to call Wanda about this later. You had a feeling your mom was going to send you back to the compound. 

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Wanda’s POV

“Hey Wan,” Your voice greeted her softly over the phone, her heart leaping at the sound. She opened her mouth to ask if you were okay but you cut her off.

“Yeah I’m okay, just a little bruise.” You said, Wanda could hear the rustling of your shirt when you said that.

“What happened?” Wanda asked, nervously fidgeting with the sleeve of your hoodie before resting on her lap.

“I think you saw all about it on the news.” You commented, Wanda laughed lightly, relieved to hear that you were okay.

“So have you been doing anything or just moping around?” You asked, your tone was playful.

“Training a little, mostly watching movies and eating,” Wanda answered, a strange smell filling her senses.

“Moping around.” You answered your question, causing both of you to laugh before discussing what was happening.

You told Wanda that Steve was on the run with Bucky and Sam, he wasn’t planning to sign the accords anytime soon. Natasha and Tony were waiting for some sign of Sharon or the other three, but nothing so far. 

“I think Vis is making paprikash,” Wanda commented once you’d finished talking about what had happened. 

“Android made paprikash, tell me how that goes, I think I can smell it from out here.” You commented, Wanda frowned. 

“You mean you can smell it from Vienna?” Wanda asked, denying any hope that you could be nearby.

“Nope, would you mind opening the front door?” You asked, Wanda, grinned and leaped to her feet, practically running to the front door when Vision appeared in front of her. 

“Vis, what are you doing?” Wanda demanded, startled that he had appeared in front of her. 

“There’s someone at the front door,” he stated, looking down at Wanda.

“Which is why I’m opening it, it’s y/n,” Wanda said excitedly, Vision nodded and went back into the kitchen before the paprikash could burn.

Wanda quickly hurried to the door and opened it to find you standing on the other side, looking exhausted but happy you see her. You wore a loose fav/color t-shirt and patterned leggings with your denim jacket slung over your shoulder. The brunette pounced on you in a tight hug, you winced and let out a small gasp when she touched your ribs but bit your lip to hold down a groan.

“I missed you too.” You said, voice tight from pain, and Wanda quickly backed off.

“What, did I hurt you?” Wanda asked frantically, you waved her off, dragging your suitcase in behind you.

“It’s fine, it’s just a bruise.” You said, putting your suitcase next to one of the couches and sniffing the air.

Wanda quickly ran over to you to inspect the bruise, lifting your shirt to find a large, light blue bruise covering your entire left side. She gasped and let her fingers wander over it, noticing you gasp when she almost touched it. She used a little bit of her powers to ease the pain before standing up properly to face you.

“Thanks, and what’s that smell?” You asked, looking around to find Vision exiting the kitchen wearing an oxford shirt, navy blue v-neck sweater, and black trousers.

“I tried making paprikash to try and lift your spirits.” He gestured to Wanda. “Forgive me but I’ve never actually eaten anything.” Vision apologized, making an eating motion with one hand. 

You laughed and walked over to him, patting his shoulder.

“I’m sure you did your best.” You joked, patting his shoulder and walking into the kitchen, peering down into the large pot.

“It’s salvageable, you just need a lot more paprika than the tiny pinch at the top.” You commented.

Wanda laughed and followed you into the kitchen, peering down into the pot to find a light orange sauce, the top was peppered with red. Vision rubbed his neck and decided to pick a movie while you cooked. Wanda stirred the spoon, making the sauce a little thicker before lifting a spoon and tasting it, nodding slightly in approval. 

“Not bad, spirits lifted,” Wanda commented, Vision smiled at her and turned back to Netflix, you raised an eyebrow at the interaction.

“$20 it’s not as good as mine.” You muttered, gathering some spices to put in it. Wanda raised an eyebrow at your jealousy and smirked.

“Jealous? You should taste it.” Wanda commented, tasting another spoon to taunt you, licking her lips but missing a spot on the corner of her lip.

You smirked and took her arm after she put the spoon in the pot, yanking her towards you and kissing her. Wanda gasped into the kiss, she could feel your smirk but you quickly took the drop of sauce off the side of her lip and pulled away, licking your lips and shrugging.

“Not bad.” You commented, Wanda slapped you arm lightly as her blush grew.

You laughed and helped her improve the paprikash, enjoying your time with her as long as you could, playing some music to help her mood.

| Part 5 | 

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @5aftermidnight, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart  , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @wlw-imaginesss , @username23345 , let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

A/N: The Preview takes place after this, so you might want to read that too.