#not a smidge of angst to be had with this WIP

[mistresslrigtar]

WIP Poll Update!

Well, the votes are in from the two polls I ran over the past two days. Between the two, I had a total of 92 votes (that equals 92 sentences I need to write for a WIP)

The winner, by a landslide in the first round, and by the skin of its teeth in the second is (I see where everyone's' minds are at):

My Voe and Me

Here's all I have for this WIP (which I came up with months ago for a 'zine I participated in) Voe and Me - while visiting Riju, Zelda attends the voe and me class and is shocked when she discovers Link often volunteers to be the voe the girls practice their flirting skills on

As the unofficial Queen of Fluff, your wish is my command.

I haven't been feeling inspired to write lately, but perhaps I can write a one-shot in time to celebrate the New Year. We'll see. Not making any promises here, but picturing Link in his desert voe armor set may be all the incentive I need. 😂😅

Thanks for voting!!

[pedrospatch]

call it what it is

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: A disagreement over patrol duty leads to declarations that have been long overdue.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. established relationship. HEFTY AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and joel is 56). ellie and joel are fine bc i said so and they deserve nothing less. reader handles a rifle, joel’s a little too overprotective and almost seems controlling, but i promise he is not. well, maybe just a smidge. arguing, admission of feelings, joel miller says i love you (yes this is ooc, no i do not care bc i need this old man to tell me he loves me). angst, fluff. quite a bit of side character interaction before we get to joel and reader in the second half. the only physical description of reader is that she is shorter than joel. fair warning, i am quite rusty.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: hi hello. i have not shared a wip in over 2 months. i was going back and forth on whether or not i wanted to share a fic with so much going on but decided i wanted to get back to doing what i enjoy. that and ofc that new footage was a boost of inspo. i am sending so, so much love to anyone who happens to see this author note, whether you read this fic or just happen to see this note in passing whilst scrolling. i know things have been tough, but i am here with you. <3

Joel wakes with a gentle start. Yawning, he rolls over from his side onto his back, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as warm, golden sunlight filters into the bedroom through the sheer, white linen curtains drawn over the window. He stares up at the ceiling, his breathing slow, steady, and even. He’s still getting used to it, it seems. Waking this calmly, with a tranquil peace he had been so certain he would never in his life feel again. He knew it couldn’t be a mere coincidence the nightmares had all but stopped tormenting him in his sleep when the two of you stopped doing that awkward little tap dance around one another and began sharing a bed, a home, a life.

No more bolting upright in sheer panic in the middle of the night, heart pounding and drenched head to toe in a cold sweat. No more believing he’s failing in his sleep. No more waking up feeling like he’s lost something.

Even his dreams about Sarah had become so, so much more pleasant. Images of her in that field on that night were replaced by different memories, like watching her teammates dogpile her after she’d scored the winning goal in their soccer tournament, or the big, triumphant grin she’d flashed him over her chocolate milkshake as the pair sat in their usual corner booth at their favorite fifties-themed diner in Austin—much to Joel’s surprise, Sarah had politely declined her teammates’ invitation for pizza once the match ended, choosing to celebrate her victory with him. Just the two of them.

“Y’sure you don’t wanna go with your friends, kiddo?” he’d asked, raising an eyebrow. He had been certain she was approaching the age where she would start spending less and less time with her old man. “I wouldn’t mind, y’know.”

“Positive,” she had reassured him with a smile, looping her arm through his and leading him off the pitch. “I’d much rather be with you, dad.”

Rather than smelling metallic in his slumber, he smells the grass that stained her white and blue striped jersey. Her cheeks are smeared with dirt, not with crimson.

Stifling another loud yawn, Joel stretches his arm out over towards your side of the bed, his calloused fingers seeking the warmth and softness of your naked body—instead, all they find are empty sheets, cold and long abandoned. He turns his head, and as suspected, you are not laying there beside him. That’s hardly out of the ordinary. Out of the two of you, you were the early riser, up before the neighbors’ rooster even had the chance to sound the alarm. Joel knows how much you treasure your quiet mornings lounging on the porch swing he’d built for you as you watched the sunrise with a hot cup of coffee in hand. He often made a genuine effort to get up and join you, but lately, his patrol rotations had been all over the place thanks to a shortage of patrolmen. He found himself sleeping in whenever he had the chance, seeing as he never knew when he might have to work a damn double. Or maybe it was just his age catching up with him.

He checks the time and then rolls out of bed, groaning when his sore knees and his aching lower back protest his movement.

After taking a quick shower using whatever hot water the kid had left for him after her own shower—much to his annoyance, it was not very much—Joel brushes his teeth and gets dressed for the day before pulling on his boots and heading downstairs into the kitchen where he finds the culprit responsible for the cold downpour he’d been forced to wash himself under. Ellie’s sitting at the table, absentmindedly stirring her oatmeal around her bowl with her spoon as she flips through one of her comic books. Just as he’s about to greet her, he spots the clean, empty coffee pot on the kitchen counter and frowns. You hadn’t even made coffee yet?

Now, that—that is out of the ordinary.

“Where is she?” he asks.

“Well, good morning to you too, old man. Oh, I slept great, thanks for asking,” Ellie quips without looking up at him as she flips the page. She mumbles something under her breath he doesn’t quite catch, something like, and you get on my ass about my manners?

Rolling his eyes, Joel snorts in response and pads over to the coffee maker on the counter. He spoons in some of the grounds he’d traded for earlier that week into the reusable filter, pours in water from the tap, and turns it on to brew. He grabs two ceramic mugs from the wire dish rack beside the sink and sets them down on the counter. “She out back?” he questions, yanking the refrigerator door open—he tries to remember the little things, like how you enjoyed your coffee with a bit of milk as well as a dash of cinnamon, if you had the rations, or something to trade for the precious spice. He always made sure that you did.

“Nope.” Ellie shovels a spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth and adds thickly, “She went to get some eggs.”

Joel shoots her a look of disgust over his shoulder. “Jesus, Ellie! How many times do I gotta tell you? Don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s bad manners,” he scolds her, shaking his head. He turns his attention back to the refrigerator. As he reaches for the glass bottle of milk, he pauses and his eyebrows pull together in confusion when he sees the wicker basket on the top shelf. “Wait a minute.” He feels her stiffen in her chair. “Why the hell would she go get eggs when we’ve got a full basket of ‘em right here in the fridge?”

She clears her throat. “Oh, uh, my bad. I got confused. Think she said she was gonna go get more honey? Uh, I used the last of it to make my breakfast this morning and she, uh—she wanted some for her toast. You know, ‘cause she really likes putting honey on her toast,” she rambles before piling more oatmeal into her mouth.

Closing the refrigerator door, he turns to her, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as uneasiness settles deep in the pit of his stomach. “Ellie?”

There’s a momentary pause. “...yeah?”

This time, Joel doesn’t bother to chastise the teenager for talking with her mouth full. “Where is she?”

Ellie nervously swallows her food and holds up both of her hands. “Hey, I already fucking told you, man.”

“Look, I know you like the back of my own hand, kiddo. And I know damn good and well when you’re lying to me.” Joel crosses his arms over his chest. “Now tell me the truth. What do you know that I don’t?”

Groaning, Ellie sits back in her chair. “Ugh. She made me swear not to tell you! She’ll fucking strangle me if I do—”

“Yeah, well, not if I fuckin’ strangle you first myself,” he threatens her. “M’Serious, Ellie. Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

“Alright, alright! Jesus,” she huffs. “She’s with Tommy. He’s been taking her out of town to do target practice in the mornings, just the two of them. She usually gets back to the house before you get up,” she admits.

Joel’s arms fall back to his sides, his shoulders tense. “And how long has this been goin’ on?” he asks, rigidly. There’s a sudden tightness inside his chest, a feeling he hasn’t felt it in a while, but is still all too familiar to him.

After Tommy spread the word around town that more people were needed for patrol duties, you’d expressed an interest in the role, but Joel had been all too quick to shut you down, telling you he didn’t want you stepping foot outside the community’s gates.

“No,” he’d said. “Not happenin’. S’too dangerous.”

“But Joel—”

“I said,” he lowered his voice. “No.”

He hadn’t offered you an explanation as to why he was against it, refused to give you one good, solid reason as to why it was acceptable for him to risk his own life to protect Jackson, but it wasn’t acceptable for you to do the same.

Joel hadn’t known how to tell you the truth. How he needed you far, far more than you needed him, how the mere thought of losing you, the best fucking thing that could have possibly happened to him since the world ended, made him feel like his heart was going to stop.

A few weeks had passed since then, and thankfully, you never brought it up to him again. You had lost interest in patrol duty. Or so he’d thought.

“How long has this been going on?” he repeats after a minute.

“C’mon, man! Haven’t I already snitched enough?”

“Ellie,” Joel bites out her name. “Tell me. How long?”

She sighs in defeat. “Two weeks? Maybe three?” When she notices the muscle in his jaw tick, she grimaces. “You do realize why she didn’t fucking tell you, right?”

“Don’t,” he warns her, sharply.

“I’m just saying,” Ellie mutters, peering down into her bowl.

Without another word, Joel angrily storms past her and straight out the front door, snatching up his rifle on the way. He heads straight for the stables, trying to ignore the anxiety flaring inside of his chest.

Focus.

Now, breathe in. And breathe out.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe...

You exhale as you slowly squeeze the trigger.

Y’squeeze it like you love it, you had been told by your reluctant instructor.

The round fires off into the distance and you swiftly grab the bolt handle, bringing it up, back, forward, and then down again. You pull the trigger once more, then repeat and continue firing one shot after the other for a total of five rounds.

The rifle’s recoil nearly sends you flying backwards, but a strong hand on your back keeps you nice and steady. That same hand then moves to your shoulder and gives you three firm taps.

“Alright, alright! Christ,” Tommy laughs. He withdraws his arm from around you and shakes his head. “Fuckin’ calm down, Annie Oakley.”

Picking up his binoculars, he rises to his feet and looks through the lens at the makeshift targets that he’d set up for you, three empty soup cans lined up in a row on top of a wooden fence about twenty-five yards away—your longest shooting distance to date.

“Well?” You don’t even bother masking your impatience as you lower the rifle, carefully propping the weapon up against the tree stump you’re perched behind. Rubbing your sore shoulder, you hope the kickback won’t leave a bruise. You wouldn’t know how to explain that to Joel. “How did I do?”

His response comes in the form of a long, low whistle.

There is no telling if that had been good whistle, or if it had been a bad one. You groan. Now was not the time for him to dick around. “Please tell me I got at least one of them?”

“You got ‘em all, actually.” Tommy replies, lowering the binoculars and peering down at you. There’s a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “Good job, kid.”

Kid? Not exactly a nickname one wants to be called by the brother of the much, much older man that they are romantically involved with. It’d taken Tommy months to accept your relationship with Joel, especially when you moved your things out of your unit and into his over the summer. Part of you wonders if him referring to you as a kid is simply his own subtle way of telling you—no, of reminding you, that he’s still not comfortable with it.

And perhaps he never would be.

After all, you had still been a teenager when you first arrived to Jackson a few years ago, stumbling upon the town just a few months shy of the twentieth birthday you weren’t sure you would survive long enough to see.

You were indeed a kid when you’d met Tommy Miller.

Were.

Scowling up at him, you snap, “I told you to stop calling me that. I’m not nineteen anymore, Tommy.”

Having read your mind, he gives you a small smile and acknowledges, “Yeah, you’re right. You definitely ain’t a kid anymore.” He offers you his hand and hoists you up to your feet. Before dropping your hand, he gives it an apologetic squeeze.

You relax a little and smile back at him. “Did I really get all three?”

Tommy nods. “You sure did. You’re a damn good shot. I gotta be honest with you—I didn’t expect you to be this fuckin’ good,” he admits sheepishly.

Chuckling, you scoff, “Thanks. I think.”

“It’s a compliment, sugar.” He winks and flashes you a lopsided grin. “In fact, I’d say my work here is done.”

“Great! So when are you putting me on the roster?”

His grin instantly vanishes. “Uh, listen. About that....”

He trails off, and your heart sinks a little.

Tommy wouldn’t back out of this now—would he?

“Oh, no. Don’t you dare go back on your word, Miller,” you say, lightly poking him in the chest. “We had a deal. You said if I did well enough, you’d think about it.”

He nods in agreement. “Exactly. Said I’d think about it. And I think that puttin’ you on the roster for patrol ain’t a good idea.”

Your mouth falls open. If he never had any intention of holding up his end of the bargain, then what had been the point of teaching you how to shoot?

You didn’t understand.

“You just said it yourself, I’m a great shot! I’m a good on horseback, too. I’m stealthy. I’m diligent. What more do you fucking need from me, Tommy?”

Tommy’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “Joel would fuckin’ murder me with his bare hands if I even thought about puttin’ you on patrol duty. Hell, he’d murder me just knowin’ we’re out here and I’m teachin’ you how to shoot. It’s a damn fuckin’ miracle he still hasn’t caught onto this, y’know.”

Shocked, your eyebrows shoot to your hairline. “This is about Joel? Are you serious?”

“‘Course it is.” He pauses. “Listen, now I know the three of us had our—differences—when he first told me ‘bout you two. Still takin’ me a bit of gettin�� used to, but I can see he’s real serious about you. I know my brother, and I know he won’t risk losin’ what’s most important to him. Ain’t no way in hell. He doesn’t want you out here and you know that as well as I do.” Tommy shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging as he shuffles his weight from one cowboy boot to the other. “Unless he’s alright with it, I ain’t gonna put you on the roster.”

For a moment, you’re at a complete loss for words.

Upon seeing the crestfallen expression on your face, he makes a suggestion. “You can try talkin’ to him ‘bout it again if it means that much to you. Ask him—”

“Ask?” You want to laugh. You almost do. “I’m an adult, Tommy. I don’t need his permission to do this. Or to do anything for that matter. Joel doesn’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”

Tommy smiles wryly. “Well then, if that’s the case, why are we sneakin’ around and doin’ this behind his back?”

Your shoulders slump in defeat.

Because the ramifications could be disastrous.

Joel had made his stance on the matter abundantly clear, and yet here you were, deliberately disobeying him.

“Stumped you real good, didn’t I?”

Before you can even start to think about how you can possibly respond to that, you hear the sound of hooves in the dirt behind you, followed by whinny of a horse.

Tommy’s face pales as he glances over your shoulder.

“Shit.”

There’s no need for you to ask. His grimace says it all.

Somehow, you will yourself to turn around just as Joel’s steed comes to a halt beside the mare you and Tommy had ridden out on together. He jumps out of the saddle, grunting at the forceful impact on his knees when his feet hit the ground. His rifle hangs from a worn, brown leather strap slung across his back.

He approaches the two of you looking absolutely livid, and your throat goes dry.

“The hell is goin’ on here?” He breezes right past you, roughly shoving his brother with both hands. “Why the fuck would you bring her out here, Tommy? What the fuck is the matter with you?”

“Joel, c’mon. Take it easy—”

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me to take it easy!”

“Joel!” You reach for his arm. “Wait, it’s not his fault!”

Joel shoves him again, then takes him by the collar of his shirt and pins him against the ponderosa pine tree behind him. “You’ve been bringin’ her outside the gates behind my fuckin’ back for weeks, asshole?”

The panic begins to set in—he’s taking his anger out on the wrong person, and deep down, he knows this too.

“Joel! Stop! Let him go!” Grabbing fistfuls of his jacket, you try pulling him off of the younger man. “Stop it! It’s not his fault! I asked Tommy to bring me out here!”

He whirls around, his nostrils flared, jaw clenched.

You’ve seen this side of him a handful of times before.

But his anger has never been directed at you.

“What?”

Immediately, you let go of him and take a step back. “I asked Tommy to bring me out here and teach me how to shoot so that I can start working patrol,” you explain, hoping, praying, he doesn’t catch the slight tremble in your voice. “This was all my idea, okay? If you’re going to be mad at someone, then be mad at me. Not at him.”

“So you did this after I fuckin’ told you I didn’t want you out here?” Joel seethes. His neck becomes flushed, his tan skin now a deep shade of red.

“Joel—”

He cuts you off. “I had to find out from Ellie? You tried to get her to fuckin’ lie to me? After all the work it took for me and her to—” Stopping mid sentence, he places his hands on his hips and shakes his head.

“Joel. Please.” Behind the anger in his dark brown eyes, you detect something else. A mingle of hurt, concern—fear?

Tommy awkwardly clears his throat. “Well I’m, uh—I’m gonna head back to town,” he says, touching a hand to the back of his neck. “I’ll let the two of you work things out in private.” As he passes Joel, he lightly claps him on the shoulder. “Girl’s a sharp shooter, big brother. I’d reckon she’s almost better than you.”

His effort to lighten the mood fails. Miserably.

Offering you a subtle nod of encouragement, Tommy hops into the saddle of his mare and takes off towards the commune.

Silence falls over the both of you. It feels suffocating.

Unfamiliar.

Finally, you speak. “Joel, please just hear me out—”

“What the hell were you thinkin’? Or were you just not thinkin’ at all?”

“I was thinking I want to pull my weight in Jackson.”

“You already have a fuckin’ job,” Joel reminds you.

“Making sandwiches and serving whiskey at The Tipsy Bison?” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “I am capable of more than that, Joel. So much more. Don’t you believe I’m capable of doing more?”

“I don’t want you out here,” he grits through his teeth. “Capable or not, I don’t want you outside Jackson’s walls. I don’t want you on patrol and that’s fuckin’ final. You understand me?” Now it’s him who falters, and you wonder if you’re imagining things, or if that’s really a tear you see sliding down the side of his face, disappearing into the salt and pepper scruff of his beard.

“That’s not your decision to make, Joel. It’s mine.”

“M’responsible for you. It’s my job to look after you—to protect you.”

Something about the way he is looking at you, it feels like a punch to the gut, and it’s at that precise moment when you begin to realize that he’s not angry. He’s afraid.

“Joel, I know that all you want to do is protect me,” you sigh, letting your arms fall down to your sides. “I know you do. But you’re doing me no favors by trying to keep me sheltered. By treating me like I’m defenseless. Don’t forget, I’m a survivor too.”

“You already know how fuckin’ dangerous it is out here. Clickers, raiders—”

“I can handle it,” you insist, stubbornly.

“You’d be puttin’ yourself right in harm’s way!”

You shoot back, “You mean, the way you and so many other people put yourselves in harm’s way every single day for the sake of keeping Jackson safe?”

A frustrated growl rumbles through his chest. “Christ, why are you bein’ so fuckin’ foolish? You’re just askin’ to get yourself killed!”

“I can take care of myself!” You realize your hands are shaking and curl them into tight fists at your sides in an effort to hide it. “Just accept it, Joel! Accept that I can take care of myself, alright?”

That is all it takes to tip Joel over the edge he’s been teetering on. “Then what do you fuckin’ need me for?” he shouts, his voice thundering over the quiet plains of Wyoming. “If you can take care of yourself, what’s the point in us bein’ together? Why are you with me?”

“Because I love you!”

As soon as the confession comes tumbling out of your mouth, you take a step back, your wide eyes meeting his own. Until now, neither of you have ever called this what it is, been bold enough to say it’s love.

Loving after so much grief, so much loss, is daunting. It’s something you thought you would never be capable of doing again, not in this lifetime. Not in this world. It’s happened, though.

You love Joel Miller.

And he loves you.

He’s never told you he does, but he’s shown you.

From the way remembers how you take your coffee in the mornings, to the way he laces his fingers with your own, holding your hand when he’s buried inside of you, whispering sweet nothings into your collarbone every single night.

“You—you what?” Joel’s whisper is hardly audible.

You inch your way closer to him, your voice soft. “I love you,” you declare once more. “I’m not with you because of what you can do for me. I’m not with you because you can take care of me.” Closer. “I’m with you because I love you—because I’m in love with you, Joel.” Closer, until your chest brushes against his, and he can smell the subtle scent of your homemade, rosewater soap. “The only thing I need, and have ever needed from you, is your love in return.”

His throat bobs. Before you can utter another word, he lifts his hands and gently takes your face, cradling it in between his large palms, gently. His eyes search yours, immediately finding the sincerity behind your words. Leaning down, he brushes the tip of nose against your own as one of his hands travels down, his long fingers curling around the nape of your neck. His thumb lightly strokes the column of your throat.

“I love you,” Joel says hoarsely. Three words he hadn’t said to anyone in over two decades—it feels foreign to him, they ring strange in his own ears. He tries it again, clearer this time, and with a little more confidence. After all, he’s only saying what he has known from the very start. “I love you.” His other hand moves to your hip, pulling you even closer to him. “M’gonna love you for the rest of my life, baby.”

He leans in further and presses his lips to yours lightly, at first, but he wastes no time in sweeping his tongue across your bottom lip, silently asking for more.

Your mouth parts for him, and he backs you against the ponderosa, kissing you deeply, greedily, like he’s a man starved.

You whimper into him, your hands sliding up his broad chest and past his shoulders until they’re tangled in his soft, graying curls. He breathes you in, like you are the oxygen he needs to stay alive.

It isn’t until you both hear the sound of rustling behind a nearby shrub that you’re forced to pull apart. “Don’t move,” Joel instructs in a hushed voice. He keeps you pinned against the tree, his hand abandoning your hip. He glances around, slowly reaching behind his back for his rifle. His tense shoulders relax when the both of you see a pair of rabbits dart out from one dried bush and straight into another. Exhaling an amused huff, Joel shifts his attention back to you and rests his forehead against yours.

Smiling, you reach up and softly graze his beard with your fingertips. “Guess it’s about time we called this what it is, huh?”

“Guess you’re right, darlin’.” He lifts his chin, brushing a kiss onto your forehead. “M’sorry for raisin’ my voice to you. For talkin’ to you the way I did. S’just, the thought of somethin’ happenin’ to you out here scares shit out of me.” Taking a step back, he pulls the strap of his rifle from around his shoulder. He chews the inside of his cheek and silently stares at the gun in his hands. After a minute, he meets your curious gaze. “Do you really wanna do this, sweet girl?”

You nod. “Yeah. I really do.”

Joel sighs. “Can I put a condition it?”

“Depends on what that condition is.”

“I’m your patrol partner. Every shift. Every rotation.”

You roll your eyes. “Joel.”

“At least for the first few weeks,” he bargains. “Last thing I need is for you to be paired up with some fuckin’ idiot who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doin’.”

Knowing that would be the only way he’d have some peace of mind, you decide to agree. “Fine. We’re patrol partners.”

“Alright then.” Joel nods and hands you the rifle. He flashes you a small grin. “Show me what you got, baby.”

divider credit to @/saradika 💛

for fic notifications please follow @joelsgreysupdates!

[mariasont]

aaron hotchner masterlist

smut = ✧ clean (ish) = ♡ angst = ✩

this list goes oldest to newest! (idk why i did it like that but im too lazy to change it now)

fics:

✧ our minds entwined WIP paused!

one shots:

♡ marked territory: you are not happy about a consultant trying to make a move on your man

✧ negotiation with mr. h pt 1 pt 2: hotch doesn't know what to do when his nanny flirts with him out of the blue

♡ bumper to bumper: you can't seem to park your car and hotch is the man to help

♡ office sleepover: you get put on a hit list and have to stay over at the office pt 1, pt 2, pt 3

✩ the manuscript: you find a series of letters aaron wrote you in college

✩♡ talking to a brick wall: you overheard aaron’s not so nice words about you

✧ spoiled: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it

♡ some profiler you are: in which hotch insists you stay with him after you get shot

✧ ideas from a book: in which hotch catches you reading smut and finds out you have a gun kink

♡ give this old man a heart attack: you almost get yourself killed on a case and hotch has some choice words about it

♡ they think i'm pregnant: the team thinks you're pregnant and you decide to have a little fun with it

✩ please, don't prove 'em right: aaron hotchner is a busy man and he tends to disappoint you by missing important events pt 1, pt 2

♡ stupid crush: being the youngest member of the bau you think you have no shot with your hot boss

♡ late night podcast: hotch finds you fast asleep to the soothing sound of a seriel killer podcast

✩♡ too emotional: you and hotch are taken hostage, hotch makes some comments, but is it part of the plan or did he mean that?

♡ dangerous: you get hit with some laughing gas and become much more bold and flirty with your boss

♡ schoolboy-esque: spencer and hotch spend the day competing for your attention

♡ secret nicknames: hotch accidentally calls you your middle name at work causing suspicion in the team

✧ let me take care of you: you had a rough day at work and hotch decides to draw you a bath and help you relax with a couple creative methods

✩♡ softly, slowly: you have a hard time opening up because of a past of your mom being dismissive with your feelings but hotch is slowly helping you overcome that

✧ short skirt, long day: on paperwork days you tend to wear short skirts, one day perv!aaron decides to take advantage of that

nanny!reader

♡ laundry day: hotch notices a difference in how his clothes smell and realizes his nanny might have something to do with that

♡ parent-teacher conference: nanny!reader isn't too happy about a teacher trying to flirt with her boss

♡ date night: nanny!reader comes home after the worst date

♡ career day: mr. hotchner can't make jack's career day so nanny!reader steps in and maybe embellishes just a smidge about how the fbi works

bimbo!assistant!reader

♡ my assistant: bimbo!assistant!reader can't reach a book so hotch helps you out

♡ my boss won’t be happy about this: bimbo!assistant!reader is wrongfully arrested and hotch is not happy about it

♡ strawberry wine: hotch is a lot more flirty when he's got some alcohol in him (bimbo!assistant!reader)

♡ semantics: bimbo!assistant!reader flirts with an officer that has been driving hotch mad all day

♡ jealousy, jealousy: a witness flirts with hotch and bimbo!assistant!reader thinks that hotch is reciprocating

♡ good luck charm: bimbo!assistant!reader is gone for the morning and leaves hotch a couple sticky notes

♡ training day: bimbo!assistant!reader doesn't understand why hotch is giving her training lessons, but apparently he thinks she needs it

♡ talk about a bad date: bimbo!assistant!reader went on a shitty ass date and calls hotch to her rescue

♡ rainy with a chance of hotch: bimbo!assistant!reader gets caught in the rain

♡ business of making babies: bimbo!assistant!reader gets hotch worked up at the casual mention of kids

♡ smiling like a fool: hotch is the one making bimbo!assistant!reader flustered for once

♡ lovely menace: hotch and bimbo!assistant!reader are in an established relationship and reader lovessss to be a menace at work

[cookielixie]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐞 || 𝐥.𝐟. 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

A group of meddling friends, a sprig of mistletoe, and a month full of holiday mischief—what could go wrong? For Y/n and Felix, their obliviousness to their own feelings is only rivaled by their friends’ determination to push them together. As December unfolds, so do a series of awkward, sweet, and unexpected moments that might just make this Christmas unforgettable. 

pairing: lee felix x reader

wordcount: 8k

genre/warnings: college!au, best friends to lovers, friends meddling, mistletoe mishaps, awkward encounters, two very oblivious idiots, suggestive content (like a tiny bit), tooth rotting fluff, mentions of alcohol and partying and a smidge of angst. I guess minsung if u squint

A/N: This has been a wip for like... three years now lmao. i really hope you guys like it, feedback and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated <3 also english is not my first language... so yeah sorry if there are any mistakes

It all started with something simple—shared morning lattes and soft exchanges of “good morning” during your early lectures. Those small, fleeting moments quietly grew into endless hours spent together, until you and Felix became nearly inseparable. The group noticed quickly. The way your laughter came easier when he was around, the way his eyes lingered on you when he thought no one was looking—it was hard to miss. And though you both insisted it was just friendship, the boys could see the truth: you were smitten, both of you, even if you were too stubborn or oblivious to admit it.  

As the year went on, the group quietly rooted for something more to happen. There was an undeniable chemistry between you, a natural ease that left everyone wondering when—not if—you’d finally realize your feelings for each other. But no matter how much teasing or hinting was thrown your way, you both deflected it with flustered laughs and hasty denials. Every attempt to nudge you closer ended the same, with perfect excuses and an almost comical level of obliviousness.  

Eventually, the boys eased off, figuring you’d figure it out on your own. But when December rolled around, your dynamic began to shift. Maybe it was the Christmas spirit, or maybe it was just the closeness that winter seemed to bring, but the two of you became even more inseparable—more clingy, more obviously something.  

It was late November when the group gathered at Chan’s place, watching the two of you from afar and exchanging knowing looks. They’d waited long enough. If gentle teasing and subtle hints weren’t going to work, maybe it was time to take matters into their own hands. Armed with a sprig of mistletoe, a little holiday mischief, and a determination to finally get you two to confess, they began crafting their foolproof plan. This Christmas, one way or another, you and Felix would stop denying what everyone else already knew.  

December 1st:

To kick off the Christmas season, everyone had gathered at Changbin’s for the monthly movie night. Everyone except you and Felix, of course, who were running late after your evening lecture together. The rest of the group had already settled in: Jisung and Minho were cracking open beers and chatting by the couch, Chan and Seungmin were busy piling blankets and pillows onto every available surface, while Hyunjin and Jeongin hovered over the snacks, stealing bites when they thought no one was looking.  

Changbin, meanwhile, was in the kitchen, leaning over the counter with a frantic expression and sweat beading on his forehead. His white t-shirt clung to him, dark spots blooming around the neckline. He’d spent the last hour scrambling to prepare what could only be described as a chaotic masterpiece.  

He held the item up in his hands, tilting it left and right under the kitchen light to inspect its durability. It was a long, slender branch, stripped of its excess twigs and carefully wrapped in duct tape. At the tip dangled a sprig of mistletoe, the final touch to what he jokingly called his “cupid’s staff.” After months of teasing, jokes, and failed schemes to push you and Felix closer, drastic measures were now on the table.  

“Hey, you almost done in here?” Chan’s head popped around the doorframe, startling Changbin. “They’re on their way.”  

Changbin glanced at his creation one last time before sighing. “I have no idea if this’ll work,” he muttered, holding it like a fragile relic.  

Chan smirked, his eyes turning into crescents. “It’s worth a shot. If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.” He gave Changbin an encouraging pat on the shoulder before disappearing back into the living room. Changbin rolled his eyes but couldn’t help grinning as he cleaned up the remnants of his “art project.”  

When you and Felix finally arrived, your shared giggles preceded you, drawing attention as you stepped through the door. The others didn’t waste a second guiding you both to the loveseat—a small, almost comically cramped piece of furniture. You were forced to sit shoulder-to-shoulder, your legs draped casually across Felix’s lap. The closeness didn’t seem to bother either of you, and soon a comfortable silence fell over the room as the opening credits of the movie began to roll.  

Changbin bided his time, waiting until everyone was engrossed in the movie before slipping away to retrieve his cupid’s branch. “Bathroom break,” he muttered, his heart pounding as he snuck the mistletoe stick out of its hiding spot.  

Returning to the room, he carefully hid the branch behind his back as he took his seat. Minho noticed immediately, raising a brow and stifling a laugh, which, of course, drew your attention.  

“What’s so funny, Min?” you asked, glancing over.  

Changbin shot Minho a deadly glare, silently mouthing, Don’t you dare. Minho, however, didn’t even glance back at him. Instead, he deadpanned, “Changbin’s face. It’s just… always funny.”  

The group erupted into laughter, with Seungmin letting out a snort loud enough to shake the pillows. “Minho, I swear, one of these days, I’m going to drop a dumbbell on you at the gym,” Changbin snapped, though the threat lacked any real malice.  

Minho gasped dramatically, turning away with an exaggerated pout. “Whatever, I’m cuddling Jisung now. At least he appreciates me.”  

Jisung, already sitting beside him, slung an arm over Minho’s shoulders. “I got you, Min,” he said with mock sincerity.  

The laughter settled, and everyone turned back to the screen. Everyone except Changbin, who gripped his mistletoe stick like it was Excalibur, waiting for the perfect moment. He threw a quick glance in your direction and couldn’t help but smirk. Your head was now leaning against Felix’s shoulder, your face nestled into the crook of his neck, while his hand rested lightly on your thigh. Felix’s ears were burning red, a clear giveaway of how flustered he was despite his calm expression. You’re making this way too easy for me, Changbin thought, adjusting his grip on the branch.  

Unbeknownst to Changbin, your thoughts were far away from the movie. When did he become so beautiful? you wondered for the hundredth time since you’d met Felix. Tonight, though, the thought felt heavier as you stared at the way the TV’s soft light highlighted his freckles, making his eyes shine like little suns. You’d accepted your feelings for him a long time ago, even if you were convinced they weren’t mutual. You’d come to terms with it—being his friend was enough, wasn’t it? But moments like this, so close to him, made it harder to ignore the small ache in your chest.  

Meanwhile, Felix was doing everything in his power not to look down at you. His heart raced every time your breath fanned against his neck, and the weight of your legs draped over his lap was making it impossible to think straight. He clenched his jaw, his thoughts a chaotic mess. Stop being ridiculous. She doesn’t like you like that. But even as he told himself that, a part of him wished—hoped—that maybe he was wrong.  

That’s when Changbin made his move. Slowly, he leaned forward, positioning the mistletoe just above you and Felix. At first, Felix didn’t notice—his focus was entirely on not pulling you closer. But when a faint movement caught the corner of his eye, his head shot up. His eyes landed on the mistletoe, and his entire body stiffened.  

“What the hell, Changbin?” Felix’s voice came out sharper than intended, snapping everyone’s attention to him. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darted from the mistletoe to Changbin’s sheepish grin.  

“It’s just a bit of fun,” Changbin replied, trying to keep it light. “Tradition, you know?”  

“Yeah, hilarious,” Felix said coldly, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He avoided looking at you entirely, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor.  

Your stomach sank at his reaction. Does the thought of kissing me disgust him that much? you wondered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. Clearing your throat, you shifted slightly away from him, your heart sinking as your insecurities bubbled to the surface.  

Sensing the tension, Minho quickly stepped in. “Alright, alright, let’s get back to the movie, yeah? Changbin, retire your cupid stick.”  

The awkwardness lingered for the rest of the night, though no one dared to mention the mistletoe again. By the time the movie ended, you and Felix left without so much as a word to each other, the comfortable closeness from earlier now replaced with a noticeable distance.  

As you walked home in opposite directions, the silence between you hung heavy in the air, leaving you both with thoughts you couldn’t bring yourselves to say aloud.  

December 6th:

Minho’s invitation to dinner—just you, Felix, and Jisung—felt like the perfect excuse to shake off the awkwardness lingering from the group’s last gathering. Felix had eagerly agreed, and you didn’t hesitate either. Spending time with him in a smaller, more relaxed setting was always easy. Plus, Minho’s cooking was a draw on its own.  

As you stepped into Minho’s apartment, the warmth and delicious aroma of home-cooked food enveloped you immediately. “Welcome to Minho’s Michelin-star kitchen,” he announced proudly, ushering you inside.  

Jisung, sprawled lazily on the couch, smirked. “Minho’s been on a mission to impress all day. He even cleaned the stove. You better be prepared to cry tears of joy.”  

“Please,” Minho shot back. “You’ll be too busy shoving food into your mouth to cry.”  

Laughing, you made your way to the small dining table set beautifully for four. You slid into your seat beside Felix while Minho and Jisung sat across from you. The atmosphere was cozy, made warmer by the soft yellow light spilling from the lamp above the table.  

The conversation flowed easily as you started eating, a mix of light teasing and genuine updates. Minho, always perceptive, grinned as he turned his attention to you. “So, Y/n, heard you totally destroyed that exam you were stressing over? What’s your secret? Is it some kind of illegal genius potion? Do I need to call someone?”  

You laughed, shaking your head. “No genius potion, just sheer panic, too much coffee, and maybe a sprinkle of luck.” You reached for the salt shaker, but your movement froze as your gaze drifted upward. Dangling from the lamp above the table, hanging innocently over you and Felix, was a sprig of mistletoe.  

Your cheeks instantly heated. Minho and Jisung exchanged amused glances, poorly concealing their smirks as they watched you both. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Felix’s grip tighten slightly on his fork, his gaze firmly planted on his plate. He must have noticed it earlier, but he hadn’t said a word. Of course he hadn’t.  

You cleared your throat, breaking the moment, and continued your original task of grabbing the salt, doing your best to ignore the festive little sprig taunting you from above. Felix didn’t look up once, seemingly invested in rearranging the food on his plate.  

For the rest of the meal, your interactions with Felix felt careful and muted, though you couldn’t help sneaking a few glances his way. Whenever Minho wasn’t looking, you narrowed your eyes at him, your silent death glare saying all the things you couldn’t say out loud. But if he noticed your glare—and he absolutely did—he didn’t seem fazed, calmly serving himself another helping of food and chatting with Jisung about the latest drama in their group of friends.  

By the time dinner ended, the mistletoe still hung over you like an unanswered question, but neither of you dared to acknowledge it. You and Felix thanked Minho for the food and began your walk home in the crisp December night air.  

The silence at first was comfortable, your shoes crunching softly against the pavement. It didn’t take long before Felix cracked a joke about Jisung’s overly dramatic reaction to Minho’s slightly burnt bread rolls, and soon your laughter echoed easily down the quiet street.  

Amidst your conversation, Felix slipped his hand into yours. It wasn’t unusual for you two to hold hands—it was something you’d done before—but tonight it felt different. Maybe it was the warmth of the moment, or maybe it was the quiet intimacy of walking side by side under the twinkling streetlights. Whatever it was, you couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt, as though his hand belonged there.  

Felix glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his soft smile catching the faint glow of the streetlights. “You know,” he began, his voice casual but slightly hesitant, “this kind of feels like… a nice tradition.”  

You tilted your head, squeezing his hand lightly. “What does?”  

“This,” he said, his gaze flicking briefly to your joined hands before he quickly added with a nervous laugh, “You know… just as friends. It’s nice, right? No weird mistletoe stuff this time.”  

Your laugh was light, but something tightened in your chest at his words. “Yeah,” you said softly, glancing ahead. “No surprises hanging over our heads.”  

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. Felix’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if he was afraid you’d pull away, but you didn’t. You kept walking side by side, your steps naturally syncing with each other like they always did.  

His words lingered in your mind, though, the way he so quickly clarified the moment as just friendly. Did he think you might have assumed something else? Had you been assuming something else? The thought stirred uneasily in your chest, but you shook it off, blaming it on the holiday awkwardness that had been following you both since the start of December.  

Beside you, Felix wasn’t any calmer. His heart raced, and he berated himself silently. ‘Why did I say that? Now it’s weird. What if she thinks I’m overthinking? What if she wasn’t thinking about it, but now she is?’ His thoughts swirled in an endless loop of self-doubt, but even amidst the chaos in his mind, he felt the warmth of your hand in his and refused to let go.  

The walk continued, the quiet punctuated by shared smiles and lighthearted comments, both of you silently agreeing not to think too much about the moment. For now, it was enough.  

Unbeknownst to you, Minho and Jisung stood by their apartment window, watching as your figures grew smaller in the distance. “They’re hopeless,” Jisung said with a laugh, shaking his head.  

“Yeah,” Minho agreed, smiling fondly. “But this time, I think they’re starting to get it.”  

December 12th:

Visits to the dance studio where Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix practiced had become a regular part of your routine. You enjoyed seeing the trio perfect their routines and loved bringing them food and drinks as a small gesture of support. Tonight, you decided to surprise them, knowing how late their rehearsals often ran. The thumping bass and sharp rhythm of the music greeted you as you entered the studio, the trio moving in perfect sync with the beat. The energy in the room was magnetic, and you couldn’t help but admire the sheer dedication in each step. For a moment, you stood in the doorway, watching them in awe, before they noticed you.  

Minho spotted you first, his face breaking into a wide grin. “Perfect timing, Y/n! We’re starving,” he announced, cutting the music off as the others collapsed onto the floor in mock exhaustion. Hyunjin dramatically wiped his brow, flopping onto his back. “You’re basically a lifesaver at this point,” he joked, while Felix walked over to you with a shy smile, murmuring a soft “Thanks for coming.”  

You sat down with them on the studio floor, unpacking the food and drinks. The conversation flowed easily, filled with playful teasing and updates about your days. Felix, ever the enthusiastic eater, dove into his food with gusto, but it didn’t take long for disaster to strike. “You’ve got sauce on your face, Felix,” you said, stifling a laugh as you reached for a napkin. Without hesitation, you leaned in to wipe it off.  

But just as your hand neared his face, Hyunjin leaned over you with an outstretched arm, dangling a sprig of mistletoe above your head. “Oops, look at that,” he said with a mischievous grin. Your hand froze midair, your eyes locking on the mistletoe first, then darting to Felix. His eyes were wide, his cheeks already dusted with pink. The moment stretched out awkwardly, your hand only inches from his face, until the reality of the situation hit you like a jolt. You recoiled sharply, your heart racing. “I—I should go,” you stammered, grabbing your bag and standing up so quickly it almost knocked over a drink. “Lots to do tonight, sorry!” Before anyone could say a word, you rushed out of the studio, the door swinging shut behind you.  

The silence left behind was deafening. Felix sat frozen, his hand hovering where yours had been moments before, staring at the door you’d disappeared through. His brow furrowed as a mix of frustration and regret crossed his face. “Hyunjin,” he said slowly, his tone sharp, “what the hell was that? The mistletoe again?”  

Hyunjin blinked, startled by Felix’s tone. “I just thought it’d be funny,” he said defensively, holding the mistletoe up like a white flag. But when Felix’s glare didn’t falter, Hyunjin sighed and dropped the sprig onto the floor. “Look, if you hadn’t reacted so… harshly the first time, maybe Y/n wouldn’t be so jumpy now. I mean, do you even know how much she likes you?”  

Felix’s jaw tightened. “What?” he asked, his voice lower now, but Hyunjin just shook his head, standing up to grab a drink. “Figure it out, man. We’re just trying to help, but it’s like you’re both running away every time something happens.”  

Felix didn’t respond. He stared at the mistletoe on the floor, Hyunjin’s words echoing in his head. If you hadn’t reacted so harshly the first time… maybe Y/n wouldn’t be so jumpy now. Was that true? Had he set this whole thing in motion? He thought back to the first mistletoe incident at Changbin’s—a moment he’d shut down immediately because the idea of forcing you into something like that felt wrong. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or pressured, not when he thought you might find it absolutely weird and deem him a creep or something. But now… was it his reaction that had made things worse? Was he the one creating this distance?  

His chest tightened. He’d thought he was protecting you—protecting your friendship—but maybe he’d only made things more awkward. And now you were running out of rooms because of him. The studio fell quiet again, save for the faint sound of Minho munching on chips. After a long silence, Minho glanced up, leaning forward slightly. “Felix, don’t overthink it,” he said gently, his voice less teasing than usual. “You two always bounce back. Just… maybe next time, don’t run away from the moment, yeah?”  

Felix nodded slowly, Minho’s words sinking in, but he still couldn’t shake the weight in his chest. As rehearsal resumed, he danced on autopilot, his movements mechanical as his mind replayed the night’s events. By the time the music stopped again, one thought was firmly planted in his mind: I can’t let this keep happening. I’ve got to figure out how to make things right with her.  

December 16th:

It had been a few days since the series of awkward holiday encounters—movie night, the dinner at Minho’s, and the fiasco at the dance studio. You and Felix had fallen back into your usual rhythm, or at least, you were trying to. The moments of closeness still felt natural, but there was a tension beneath the surface, a hesitance that hadn’t been there before. You chalked it up to everything that had happened, telling yourself that things would smooth out eventually. 

The two of you were standing by your locker that morning, talking like usual, and for once, it felt normal again. Felix leaned casually against the locker next to yours, his freckled cheeks still slightly pink from the cold outside. 

“I’m calling it now—Chan’s going to make us rewrite our part of the group project by the end of the week,” Felix said with a smirk. “He’s going to find some tiny typo and have an existential crisis about it.” 

You laughed, shaking your head as you grabbed a book from your locker. “He’s probably already composing the email. I give him until tomorrow before we get hit with, ‘Just a few more adjustments.’” 

Felix laughed along with you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Moments like this were your favorite—easy, light, like nothing had changed. The awkwardness from the last few days felt far away, almost forgotten. Almost. 

But then Jisung appeared. 

“Wow, if it isn’t my favorite dynamic duo!” he called out, his voice loud enough to draw a few glances from passing students. You turned your head just as he stopped in front of you, his usual mischievous grin plastered across his face. 

“Jisung…” you began cautiously, narrowing your eyes at him. “What are you doing?” 

Instead of answering, he gave you and Felix a mockingly sweet look, then reached up and held something over your heads. Your stomach sank the moment you realized what he was doing. 

Felix noticed immediately too. His laughter faded, and for a split second, he looked up before his eyes flicked to you. But instead of pulling away or frowning like he had the first time, he hesitated, his lips parting slightly as if he was about to say something. His posture softened, his hand twitching at his side as though he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he should. “Y/n, it’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice quiet and careful. 

But you didn’t hear the gentleness in his words. The memory of his sharp reaction the first time flashed in your mind like a warning sign. You panicked, your body stiffening as a heat rose to your face. “Jisung!” you exclaimed, your voice harsher than you intended as you reached out to push him aside. 

He stumbled back with a yelp, clutching his chest dramatically. “Whoa, okay! No need to shove!” he said, though his tone was still playful. 

“I’m not doing this right now,” you muttered, hastily grabbing your bag. Your eyes didn’t meet Felix’s, even as you felt his gaze lingering on you. “I’ve got to get to class.” 

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Felix and Jisung standing there in the middle of the hallway. 

The silence between them was heavy for a moment, until Jisung let out a low whistle. “Well, that didn’t go as planned,” he muttered, looking at Felix. 

Felix was still staring down the hall, his expression hard to read. His arms hung at his sides, his shoulders tense. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but laced with frustration. “Why do you keep doing that, Jisung?” 

Jisung blinked. “Doing what?” 

Felix turned to him, his jaw tight. “This. Pushing her like that. It’s not helping.” 

Jisung tilted his head, holding his hands up defensively. “Whoa, relax, man. I thought you two were back to normal. You were laughing and talking like nothing was wrong—I figured maybe this time, it wouldn’t be a big deal.” 

Felix ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. “Well, it is a big deal. She’s already uncomfortable with everything that’s happened, and now she’s just…” He trailed off, his voice growing softer. “She probably thinks I don’t want this. That I don’t want her.” 

Jisung frowned, his usual playful expression replaced by something more serious. “You don’t think she knows how you feel?” 

Felix let out a short, humorless laugh. “How could she? The first time this happened, I acted like the whole idea was some big joke. She probably thinks the idea of… of anything between us is disgusting to me.” He leaned back against the lockers, his gaze falling to the floor. “But it’s not. It’s the opposite. I just didn’t want her to feel pressured into anything. I thought I was doing the right thing.” 

Jisung studied him for a moment, then let out a sigh. “Look, man, maybe it’s time to stop trying to protect her from something she doesn’t need protecting from. I mean, she’s clearly as caught up in her head as you are. Maybe instead of freaking out, you could, I don’t know, actually say something next time?” 

Felix looked up at him, frowning. “Say what?” 

Jisung smirked faintly, patting Felix on the shoulder. “Figure it out. Just… do something before she sprints away again. You’re both miserable, and it’s kind of painful to watch.” 

And with that, Jisung walked off, leaving Felix standing alone in the hallway. Felix let out another sigh, leaning his head back against the lockers. 

Maybe Jisung’s right, he thought, the idea twisting in his chest. She probably thinks I don’t want her. But what if she… what if she doesn’t want me either? 

The thought made his stomach churn, but as he stood there, staring down the hallway where you’d disappeared, he resolved to himself that next time—if there was a next time—he wouldn’t let things end like this. 

December 20th:

The soft hum of Christmas music filled the cozy café where you worked, the glow of fairy lights strung along the walls casting a warm, festive ambiance. The evening shift had been slow, with only the occasional customer trickling in, leaving you and Jeongin plenty of time to chat and clean. When the bells above the door jingled, you glanced up, immediately spotting Felix stepping in from the cold. A puff of white breath escaped his lips as he unwrapped the scarf from his neck, his cheeks and nose flushed pink from the chilly December air. He looked tired but happy, and his face lit up when he saw you behind the counter. 

“Felix!” you called out, leaning slightly over the counter to greet him. “Done with your last exam?” 

He grinned as he approached, his hair falling into his eyes. “Finally. I think my brain is fried, but at least I’m free now.” He leaned an elbow on the counter, his usual casual charm impossible to miss. “I needed a victory coffee, and I figured my favorite barista would hook me up.” 

You snorted, grabbing a cup and heading toward the espresso machine. “Victory coffee, huh? Is that what we’re calling it? Be honest—did you crush it or barely survive?” 

“Crushed it,” he replied quickly, then laughed. “Okay, fine. Maybe there was a little panic halfway through the essay. But come on, you try remembering six economic theories when you’re running on two hours of sleep.” 

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you started making his coffee. “Sounds like someone should’ve had one more latte before heading in. Caffeine solves everything, you know.” 

“Ah, yes, the secret to success: caffeine addiction,” he teased, resting both elbows on the counter now as he watched you work. Jeongin, wiping down tables nearby, snorted loud enough to make Felix glance his way. 

“She doesn’t give just anyone free coffee, you know,” Jeongin quipped. “You must be special.” 

Felix smirked, his gaze flickering to yours. “Guess I’m her favorite.” 

You felt your cheeks flush but kept your focus on the coffee machine, pretending his words hadn’t made your heart skip. “Careful, sunshine boy, or I’ll start charging you double.” 

Jeongin grinned knowingly but didn’t push it, disappearing into the back as you handed Felix his coffee. He took a sip, sighing dramatically as though it were the best thing he’d ever tasted. “Perfect, as always.” 

You leaned forward on the counter, resting your chin in your hand as you laughed. “I’ll take that as a five-star Yelp review.” 

“You’d get six stars if you threw in a cookie,” he joked, and just like that, the conversation flowed effortlessly. It didn’t matter how awkward things had been between you recently—when it was just the two of you, everything else seemed to melt away. Felix’s freckled cheeks were still pink from the cold, and the warmth in his eyes as he smiled at you made your stomach flip, though you tried to ignore it. 

The café was quiet, the snow falling softly outside making the whole world feel muffled and still. Felix leaned closer over the counter, his chin propped on his hand now, mirroring your posture as you teased him about his exam. He was laughing again, the sound low and sweet, and you were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t notice how close you’d both leaned toward each other. The space between you was practically nonexistent, and your heart was thudding in your chest, though you weren’t sure why. 

But Felix did notice. Just as his gaze flickered to your lips, a movement caught the corner of his eye. He stilled, his laughter fading as his focus shifted. There, by the pastry case, was Jeongin. He was leaning casually against the counter, a smug grin plastered across his face as he held something above your heads. 

Felix’s stomach twisted when he realized what it was: a sprig of mistletoe, dangling lazily from Jeongin’s hand. His initial instinct was to groan or roll his eyes, to glare at Jeongin for meddling again. But then his gaze returned to you. You were still smiling, your eyes shining as you waited for him to say something, completely unaware of Jeongin’s antics. 

Felix hesitated. He knew how you felt about the mistletoe by now—how every prank this month had left you retreating, flustered and unsure. But something about the way you were looking at him right now, so close and unguarded, made him want to push past the awkwardness and take the chance. Maybe this was his moment to show you how he really felt. 

“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine. “Can I tell you something?” 

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued, though you tried to keep your tone light. “You’re not about to say something cheesy, are you?” 

He chuckled, the sound low and genuine, and his gaze softened as he leaned in slightly. “Maybe. But you make it kinda hard not to.” 

You opened your mouth, ready to fire back some teasing remark, but before you could, Felix closed the space between you, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. The warmth of his lips spread across your skin, catching you so off guard that you froze. For a moment, everything seemed to stand still, the café quiet except for the soft hum of holiday music. But just as your heart started to flutter, your eyes flicked upward—and you saw it. 

There, held high above your heads, was Jeongin’s hand. He was leaning against the counter, the branch in his grip swaying slightly, his grin practically splitting his face in two. 

The giddy warmth from Felix’s kiss vanished, replaced by a sinking feeling in your chest. Of course. Of course Jeongin had been watching, meddling, dangling his stupid branch like some kind of cupid. You stepped back from Felix slightly, your hand brushing your cheek where his lips had been moments before, and let out a nervous laugh. 

“Wow, smooth, Felix,” you said lightly, though your voice felt hollow even to your own ears. You avoided his gaze, your chest tightening with doubt. He’d kissed you, sure, but was it because he wanted to—or because Jeongin had been standing there, making it impossible not to? The thought twisted painfully in your stomach, and you turned your attention to Jeongin, your expression hardening. “And you! Don’t you have anything better to do than play cupid?” 

Jeongin grinned shamelessly, lowering the branch. “Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’ as he straightened up. “You’re welcome, by the way.” 

You rolled your eyes and busied yourself behind the counter, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. You could feel Felix’s gaze on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. The moment had been so sweet, so perfect, but now it just felt like a game—like all the other forced encounters this month. The thought of it being anything other than real made your chest ache. 

Felix stood there, his own chest tightening as he watched you. He hadn’t missed the way your expression changed the second you noticed Jeongin, how you’d pulled away like the kiss had meant nothing. His grip on his coffee cup tightened, frustration and regret bubbling inside him. He’d kissed you because he wanted to, but now it felt like everything had been ruined by that stupid sprig of greenery. 

Later, as Jeongin wiped down a table nearby, Felix caught his eye. “Really?” Felix said, his voice low as he gestured toward the branch now lying on the counter. “You couldn’t help yourself?” 

Jeongin smirked, completely unbothered. “You two were this close. I just gave you a little push.” 

Felix sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She probably thinks I only kissed her because of you.” 

“Well,” Jeongin said, raising an eyebrow, “did you?” 

Felix glared at him, his voice soft but firm. “No. I kissed her because I wanted to.” 

Jeongin tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost understanding. “Then maybe next time, let her know that. Don’t let me or some stupid branch do it for you.” 

Felix stayed quiet, his eyes flicking toward the counter where you stood, your back still turned to him. Jeongin’s words echoed in his head as he finished his coffee, determination slowly building in his chest. If there was going to be a next time, he wouldn’t leave any room for doubt. Not this time.

December 22nd:

The Christmas party was in full swing, and Chan’s apartment buzzed with the energy of a group finally free from the weight of exams. The music pulsed softly in the background—a mix of festive classics and whatever Jisung had decided to throw into the playlist for chaos. Colored lights blinked unevenly from every corner, their soft glow bathing the room in warmth, while an unsteady Christmas tree leaned dramatically in the corner, its precarious decorations the result of Minho’s refusal to let anyone touch “his masterpiece.” The air was thick with the scent of mulled wine, spiked hot chocolate, and cinnamon candles that Minho had insisted were “mandatory for the aesthetic.” Empty bottles and half-eaten snacks littered the table, and Santa hats had somehow found their way onto everyone’s heads, whether willingly or not. 

In the kitchen, you leaned against the counter, cradling a drink that had gone lukewarm in your hand. Minho stood opposite you, arms crossed and a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he watched you with laser focus. The noise from the living room spilled faintly into the space—Jeongin’s laughter cutting through Chan’s groan of defeat, the clinking of glasses, and Jisung’s exaggerated rendition of “Jingle Bell Rock.” 

Minho raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as he studied you. “Alright, what’s going on?” 

You blinked, startled. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” Minho said, gesturing toward the door with his glass, “that you’ve been glancing at Felix every five minutes like you’re in a cheesy holiday rom-com, and you’ve barely said three words to him all night. Spill.” 

You groaned, setting your drink down on the counter with a little too much force. “It’s nothing,” you muttered, though even you didn’t believe it. “That’s the problem.” 

Minho’s smirk softened, and he leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze not letting you escape. “You know you can talk to me, right? I’m like a free therapist. Minus the therapy license. And the emotional sensitivity.” 

You let out a soft laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “It’s just… complicated,” you said, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. “This whole mistletoe thing—it’s made everything so weird. And now I feel like I don’t even know where I stand with him. What if all those moments didn’t mean anything? What if he only kissed me at the café because Jeongin was standing there waiting for him to do it?” 

Minho let out a long, exasperated sigh, setting his glass down with a dramatic flourish. “Y/n, listen to me. Felix isn’t the kind of guy who does something just because someone else expects him to. If he kissed you, it’s because he wanted to. End of story. Trust me, I’ve known him for years.” 

You frowned, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “But what if I’m wrong? What if I say something, and it ruins everything?” 

Minho gave you a rare, sincere look, his tone softening. “Then at least you’ll know. But, Y/n, come on. The guy looks at you like you hung the stars. You’ve seen it, right? He’s just as caught up in this as you are. But if you don’t talk to him, you’re both gonna keep circling each other forever.” 

You hesitated, the weight of his words settling over you. “You’re really annoying, you know that?” you muttered, picking up your glass again. 

Minho grinned, raising his own glass in a mock toast. “And yet, I’m always right.” 

Across the room, Felix was perched on the edge of the couch, swirling his drink absently as he stared out the window. The faint glow of the city lights reflected in his dark eyes, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He barely noticed the snow falling in lazy flurries, his mind too busy replaying every moment from the past month—the awkwardness, the misunderstandings, and most of all, the way you’d pulled away at the café after Jeongin’s mistletoe stunt. He kept asking himself the same question: Had he ruined it? Had his hesitation made you think he didn’t care? 

Hyunjin plopped down beside him, dragging him back to the present with an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, sunshine boy, what’s your deal?” 

Felix blinked, startled. “What?” 

“You’ve been sulking in the corner all night,” Hyunjin said, poking him in the ribs with a candy cane. “Which, like, fine, maybe it’s your broody winter aesthetic or whatever, but it’s starting to get depressing. What’s going on?” 

Felix let out a soft groan, running a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing.” 

“Oh, it’s definitely not nothing,” Seungmin interjected from across the room, where he was perched on the armrest of the couch. “Even Changbin noticed, and he’s been halfway through that punch bowl for the last hour.” 

Changbin, who was indeed holding another cup of punch, nodded sagely. “Yeah, man. You’ve been staring at Y/n like she’s the last piece of cake at the bakery.” 

Felix groaned again, burying his face in his hands. “I’m not staring.” 

Hyunjin snorted. “Right. Sure. You’re just ‘coincidentally’ looking in her direction every thirty seconds.” 

Felix dropped his hands, shooting them a glare. “I don’t know, okay? The whole mistletoe thing has been a mess, and I feel like every time I try to fix it, I just make things worse. She probably thinks I only kissed her at the café because Jeongin was watching.” 

Hyunjin tilted his head, studying Felix’s slumped posture. “Or—and hear me out—maybe she’s just as scared as you are. Look, Felix, if you want her to know how you feel, you’re gonna have to stop tiptoeing around it. None of this ‘reading between the lines’ crap. Just tell her.” 

Felix’s gaze flicked toward the kitchen, where he could just make out the edge of your figure as you leaned against the counter, talking to Minho. His chest tightened. “Yeah,” he said softly. “You’re right.” 

Hyunjin grinned, clapping him on the back. “Of course I am.” 

The Christmas party had settled into a quieter rhythm, the earlier chaos giving way to a warm buzz of chatter and laughter. Chan’s apartment still brimmed with festive energy—colored lights blinked unevenly from the walls, and the half-decorated tree leaned at an almost comical angle, as though too tired to stand upright after hosting a steady stream of Santa hats and selfies. The scent of mulled wine, cinnamon candles, and something suspiciously burnt wafted through the air, mingling with the faint sounds of Christmas music pulsing from Jisung’s chaotic playlist. 

You needed air. The heat of the apartment and the weight of your swirling thoughts had become too much, so you’d slipped out onto the balcony unnoticed. The cold December breeze bit at your skin, sharp and refreshing, as you leaned against the railing and stared out at the snow-dusted city below. The streetlights illuminated the falling snow like glitter, and for a moment, you let the quiet settle over you, a sharp contrast to the hum of energy inside. 

Your mind, however, refused to settle. It was caught in a loop, replaying every mistletoe encounter from the past month—the awkward laughter, the stolen glances, the kiss at the café. No matter how hard you tried to push it away, one thought kept returning: Did any of it really mean something? Or had Felix simply gone along with it because he felt like he had to? 

The sliding door opened behind you, and you glanced over your shoulder, startled. Felix stepped out, his scarf loosely draped around his neck, and the faint glow from the apartment lit up his freckles like constellations. His cheeks were pink, whether from the cold or the warmth of the party, you weren’t sure. He hesitated for a moment, looking at you like he wasn’t entirely sure he was welcome, before closing the door behind him and stepping closer. 

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice carrying over the breeze. 

“Hey,” you replied, your breath visible in the cold as you turned back to the view. 

For a few moments, neither of you said anything, the silence stretching between you like the snowfall. Felix shifted beside you, leaning on the railing, close enough that his elbow almost brushed yours. You could feel his presence without looking at him, and the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air. 

“Can we talk?” he asked finally, his voice hesitant but steady. 

You nodded, your pulse quickening. “Yeah. We probably should.” 

Felix let out a slow breath, his hands gripping the railing as he looked out at the city. “This whole month has been… a lot,” he started, his voice low. “The mistletoe, the teasing, all of it—it made everything feel so much more complicated than it needed to be. And I know I didn’t exactly handle it well.” He paused, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “The night at Changbin’s… when I reacted the way I did—it wasn’t because I didn’t want to kiss you.” 

You turned to look at him, your chest tightening. “Then why?” 

Felix hesitated, his brows furrowing as he stared down at his hands. “Because I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I didn’t want you to think I was only doing it because they were watching. I didn’t want it to feel like some stupid joke.” His voice softened, and he finally looked up to meet your gaze. “I wanted it to be real. And I didn’t want to ruin anything between us by making it weird.” 

Your breath caught, and you felt the words spilling out before you could stop them. “And I didn’t want you to kiss me because of them either,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I wanted you to kiss me because you wanted to. Not because of some stupid branch, or a game, or anything else.” 

Felix’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. “Y/n,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “that’s the only reason I’ve ever wanted to kiss you.” 

The rawness in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, and your heart felt like it might burst. The tension between you was electric, the cold air forgotten as his gaze held yours, unflinching and unguarded. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Felix spotted something on the small table beside you. 

He let out a soft laugh, breaking the moment as he reached for it. In his hand was a familiar sprig of greenery—another mistletoe branch, as though the universe itself had been conspiring against you all month. Felix raised it above your heads, a playful smile tugging at his lips despite the nervous edge in his eyes. 

“Well,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement, “it wouldn’t be Christmas without one of these, right?” 

You stared at the mistletoe for a moment, your emotions a tangled mess of warmth, frustration, and something close to defiance. Then, without a word, you grabbed the branch from his hand, stepped back, and threw it over the railing. The sprig disappeared into the night, swallowed by the snow below. 

“To hell with that,” you said, your voice steady but breathless. 

Before Felix could react, you closed the distance between you, your hands cupping his face as you leaned in and kissed him. His lips were warm despite the cold, soft and tentative for half a second before he responded, his hands gently settling on your waist like he was afraid you might disappear. The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, like the two of you were pouring every unsaid word, every missed moment, into it. The rest of the world faded away—there was no snow, no cold, no noise from the party inside. There was only him. 

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, your breaths mingling in the frosty air. Felix’s eyes fluttered open, and his freckled cheeks were flushed, his lips tugging into a soft, disbelieving smile. 

“Wow,” he said, his voice low and full of awe. “That was definitely all you.” 

You laughed, your hands still resting against his cheeks. “Yeah, it was.” 

The tender moment was shattered by a loud thump against the glass door. Both of you whipped around to see the boys pressed up against the balcony window—Hyunjin, Jisung, Jeongin, Seungmin, Changbin, Chan, and Minho, all grinning like they’d just won the lottery. Minho smirked as he exchanged a smug high-five with Chan, while Jisung mimed wiping a fake tear from his cheek. 

Felix groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as his ears burned red. “They’re the worst.” 

You couldn’t stop laughing, wrapping your arms around him as you leaned your cheek against his hair. “Yeah,” you said, smiling as the snow continued to fall softly around you. “But maybe we owe them for this one.” 

[soelstress]

Hopelessly Devoted To You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Summary: Bucky misunderstands when he hears you but doesn't recognise those popular lyrics...

Word count: 3.4k

A/N - Hello lovelies! Thought I'd post this piece from when I was working on ANOTHER WIP and in a craze for misunderstandings from eavesdropping. This is silly fluff with a possible smidge of angst.

A big big thank you to @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for eyeballing this and catching my hiccups. Much love, Skittle!

The pic is what I had in mind for the polaroid.... just look at him 🥰😍 Sourced from Google

Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work

Whistling, you prepared two lunches to go in the kitchen of Stark Tower. After putting the food into containers you cleared up any mess. Looking up, you saw Bucky stride into the kitchen. “Hey doll”. His eyes crinkled as he smiled, leaning on the counter.

You grinned back, your face heating at his proximity. “Hiya Buck. What’s up?”

Shifting his weight, he straightened slightly. “That movie you were talking about is playing at the old theater this afternoon. Thought I’d go see it… and wondered if you’d wanna go?”

Happiness filled you at his hopeful tone, only to be immediately swamped by guilt. “Oh Buck, I’m sorry but I’ve got-“

“Petal, are those nibbles ready? We gotta dash and dine!” A male voice called down the hall. You saw Bucky’s eyes then register the two lunches in front of him. His smile wavered.

“Coming Danny!” You quickly scooped the containers into your bag. Approaching him, you placed your hand on his flesh hand which rested on the counter. “Let me know if you do go, Bucky. If you don’t, maybe we can watch it here later? Snacks, popcorn, big pillows - the usual?”

His Vibranium hand covered yours,  whirring gently at the contact. “I’d love that doll”.

Once again you felt the heat in your cheeks as you tried not to melt at the feel of your hand caught between both of his. Catching sight of your watch, you groaned. “Crap I gotta run. See ya Buck”. Without thinking you stood on tip toe to peck his cheek and ran out. Unseen to you, Bucky touched where your lips brushed his cheek and blushed.

You met Danny at the elevator. He bounced with energy, his brown eyes glinting. As you both stepped in, he nudged you gently. “I know I said it after asking you, but I really appreciate you doing this, Flower. You’ve got enough going on with the team and saving the world”.

“Saving the world one memo at a time” you joke and he laughed. 

Exiting the elevator into the garage, you got into his car and drove to Queens where Danny was starring in a community production of Grease, performing for one week. He loved the stage, and was psyched to play Danny Zuko. So it had been a surprise for him to arrive at the Tower saying the show was in trouble and he needed you. Once calmed, he explained that the female lead had been injured in rehearsal and wouldn’t be able to perform on opening night. The director tried to contact people who had previously auditioned with no success. Danny had thought of you, knowing you loved Grease and had taken drama classes in school. Hesitantly you auditioned, knowing you weren’t the best singer but apparently your soft notes sounded better than some of the banshees called back as a desperate measure. When offered the role for opening night, you jumped at the chance. Trying to juggle rehearsals with your job was tricky but you were determined to push through, for Danny and yourself.

You arrived at the theatre and immediately started rehearsing. With opening night one day away, tensions were running high for everyone. Final notes and adjustments being made, everyone checking and rechecking every minute detail. The director watched you perform “Hopelessly Devoted To You”.

“Nice one, sweetheart” he drawled, scribbling on his script. “The pitch and volume are good, remember don’t push too much”. You acknowledged his advice. “My main thought is it needs just a bit more emotion, a bit of angst. Sandy’s fighting the urge to love this man but her love is so strong she’s determined to hold on. Might help if you think you’re singing to someone like that, rather than just an audience”. He eyed you with a frown. “Know what I mean?”

Nodding, you bit your lip. “I’ll try”. He nodded and turned to move onto his next task. Moving to the edge of the stage, you fought the image that appeared in your mind.

“Thinking about that Super Soldier of yours?” Danny obviously overheard your feedback… and seemingly read your mind. “I heard him ask you out earlier” he elaborated at your raised brow. “And what about inviting him and the team? I’m sure they’d come to see you”.

“Yeah, if no emergencies pop up” you snorted. “Come on Danny, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes showing up for a pen pusher?”

You found yourself being spun gently and saw Danny scowling. “I hate when you put yourself down, Petal. You did that even when we were together”. Shrugging, you avoided his gaze but didn’t move away. “But you’re more than that - you train with them, gather intel, help each one in their own individual way - paperwork is the least you do for them! Just because you’re not actively fighting in the field doesn’t mean you’re not part of the team. But even if you were just a ‘pen pusher’, I bet Barnes would still show”.

Sadly you shook your head. “It’s not like that between me and Bucky. Come on Dan, you know me. I’m not the type to be his girl, however much I might want to be”. Exhaling, you mumbled about rehearsing more before forcing the notion from your head.

Later that night, you walked through Stark Tower and asked FRIDAY the location of the team. The AI informed you that the team was sparring in the gym. Knowing you wouldn’t be disturbed for a while, you made your way to the open lounge. It was roughly the same size as the audience seating area at the theater. Popping your AirPods in, you asked FRIDAY to record your efforts. On your second attempt, you remembered what the director suggested. From your wallet, you took out a Polaroid you’d snapped of Bucky. Unguarded, his baby blue eyes sparkled, lips turned up in a soft smile. Your heart tugged, having fallen hard for the seemingly surly Super Soldier. Inhaling, you played the song again and allowed emotion to wash over you.

Bucky walked to the kitchen, grumbling about Tony and Sam showboating during training rather than focusing. Noticing a soft sound, he used his sensitive hearing to find the source. He paused at the entrance of the lounge to see you facing out of a window, your back to him. Carefully he took a step forward, intending to say your name when he heard you speak softly.

My head is sayin', "Fool, forget him" My heart is sayin', "Don't let go Hold on to the end", that's what I intend to do I'm hopelessly devoted to you

Frozen, he watched as you looked at a photo before pressing it to your chest, your voice hitching. He silently withdrew, not hearing you sing the chorus. Bucky entered his room and closed the door, heart thudding painfully as he replayed what just happened. He had been working up the courage to ask you on a date, but hesitated when Danny reappeared in your life. You had told Bucky that the two year relationship had ended amicably but Danny would still be your friend. Bucky had found himself wondering if the two of you had worked things out, given that you had spent so much time together the past few weeks. Still he hoped that something was possible, especially as you made every effort to make up for declining the plans Bucky offered. But now… he understood. It crushed him, but he knew he couldn’t hurt you by keeping you from the man you love. He only hoped that Danny knew how lucky he was. 

The next day rushed by in a chaotic blur, running errands for the team in the morning and dress rehearsal in the afternoon. Unfortunately due to a technical hiccup, you were unable to review your solo notes with the director. You and Danny relaxed backstage, inhaling your dinners knowing you wouldn’t be able to eat until after the show. Nerves began to show in twirling the cutlery, which he picked up on. “You know what they say about a bad dress rehearsal. Stop worrying Petal, you’ll be fine”. 

“Easy for you to say” you growled.

“Jeez, you need to chill out. Are they keeping Barnes on ice again? He could cool you off… or heat things up” Danny smirked, ducking when you reached to flick his ear. “Ok forget the team for a second - why didn’t you invite him?”

“That’s all I need Dan - nerves over inviting him and then with my luck performing badly. I’m stressed enough”. You pointed your cutlery at him for emphasis before throwing it in the bin. “Please… it’s opening night, can we just focus on that? No more talk of invites or team support”. Danny nodded and you sighed in relief. 

At the Tower Nat, Steve, Tony and Bucky were gathered in the living room for movie night. Since you usually joined them and offered options to watch, they noticed your absence. “Where’s our movie critic?” Tony asked, pouting when you don’t appear with snacks in hand. “Tin Man, did she say anything to you?”

Bucky shrugged, frowning. “She’s not been around the last few afternoons, but she didn’t say anything about tonight”.

Peter suddenly skidded into the room, clutching a piece of paper in his hand.

“Where’s the fire kid?” Steve caught Peter before he crashed into someone. 

Panting, Peter shuffled nervously. “So have you guys heard of that old movie Grease?”Tony and Nat groaned at Peter’s definition of ‘old’ while Bucky and Steve were confused. It hadn’t been mentioned to Steve, so he wondered if he should add it to his ever growing list of things to look into. Bucky tried to understand how a movie could be made about grease… unless Peter meant the country?

Nat started to suggest watching it for the current movie night when Peter interrupted her. “Wait! At school I was walking by the bulletin board, you know where you can put fliers for things. There was so much on that board - actually there’s a demonstration I think you and Bruce would love Tony - “

“KID!” Tony huffed with a smile. “What’s this got to do with Grease?”

Pausing, Peter blushed before laughing. “Oh right! Well I saw a flier advertising opening night tonight at a local theater. But that's not what caught my eye. Look at this”. 

Nat took the flier before anyone else could, her brows reaching for the heavens. “Well this explains a few things”. 

The boys gathered round. “No way” Tony exclaimed, his eyes widening behind his trademark glasses. Steve let out a noise of confusion while Bucky stared at the picture snapped of Danny in his T Bird Costume and you in a poodle skirt. Tony asked FRIDAY to check if any tickets were still available, which the AI confirmed would be set aside.

“Well we’ve got our movie night plans, though I’m definitely adding the movie to our list for these two fossils” Nat smirked as Steve let out a sarcastic laugh. “Everybody go change, I doubt our support would be as appreciated if we show up in our sweats”.

Everyone scrambled to go change, Bucky collaring Peter as they headed down the hall. “You know anything about theater kid?”

Backstage, it was a swarm of activity as everyone counted down to showtime. Standing in the wings, you saw Danny on the other side of the stage mumbling and wringing his hands. Darting around your castmates, you engulfed him in a hug which he reciprocated. “It’s gonna be great Danny. Let’s show ‘em the ole Razzle Dazzle”.

His body drained of tension as he softly laughed. “Wrong show Petal”. 

You faux pouted. “Fine. Let’s show ‘em Grease is the word”. He laughed again, prompting a big smile on your face. “Break a leg Danny”.

“You too, Petal”.

You crossed the stage back to the wings, not hearing the whispers about the audience being a full house due to a post on social media. In the audience, a certain group of people sat three rows back, not wanting to risk distracting either you or Danny. Bucky and Steve fidgeted, not knowing what to expect but nevertheless excited to see you perform. Nat sat beside Steve, with Bucky on his other side. Peter was sandwiched between Bucky and Tony, watching on his phone as followers responded to his post about the play. Once the curtain rose, the group was hooked by the performance with Tony and Peter humming along. 

The first few scenes passed smoothly as you darted backstage for a quick costume change. Nerves fluttered in your chest as you hummed a few notes in preparation. Danny appeared like a ghost, handing you the Polaroid and giving your free hand a comforting squeeze. “Remember, deep breaths… and sing to him”. Taking one last glance at the picture, you thought of the soft blue eyes that haunt your thoughts. Hearing your cue, you moved back to the stage.

Bucky’s breath left him as he saw you walk onto the stage, softly singing. He’d never heard you sing before, and the gentle tune was soothingly beautiful. But his heart stopped as he heard the words from the night before and understanding crashed through him - Danny’s sudden return and constant presence, you not being available to hang out - you were practicing for your performance tonight. His heart restarted when he once again heard the hitch in your singing, words filled with emotion. He steeled himself, thinking he might still have a chance and would take any opportunity to try. The group applauded loudly when you finished.

It was a whirl of costume changes and songs until the final act. Slipping into the leather suit you borrowed from Nat, you cursed when the zipper refuses to budge. “Wow, you’re really channeling this whole costume thing aren’t you? Right down to the broken zip”. Danny grinned mischievously. “I’m not sewing you into that, Petal”.

“No one is touching this suit - Nat will kill me if I return it in less than perfect condition”. You cursed softly. “I’m gonna rip this thing if the damn zipper won’t move”.

“Good thing Barnes isn’t here then, I bet you’d have his attention”. You flipped Danny the bird as he cocked his head in mock thought. “I bet he’d fight Widow for a chance to rip it off you himself, not like he couldn’t afford to replace it anyway”. Thankfully the zip then moved into place and you shoved him towards the stage.

When you walked on stage in the ‘Bad Sandy’ costume, the effect was immediate. “Shit” Tony murmured. Peter's jaw dropped. Steve reflexively admonished the cursing, Nat smiling at the exchange. Meanwhile Bucky silently growled. Gone was your workday office combination, the leather suit hugged your every curve, just the right side of sexy and not too modern.

The final song concluded and you were met with thunderous applause. Each cast member took their bow, ending with cheering. When you stepped forward for your turn, you thought the noise increased slightly but since audiences usually cheered loudest for the lead roles, you thought nothing of it. You practically floated backstage, thrilled with how tonight went. As you moved to enter the dressing room, you stopped in shock.

“So our Jack of all trades is also a moonlighting performer” Tony’s glasses flashed under the bright lights. He smirked at your surprise as you gaped at the four people crammed in the room. 

“What? How - “ you were at a loss for words. 

“Underoos here found a flier. Not important” Tony stepped forward and clapped you on the shoulder. “You did good kid, great work. Though now I know how you can juggle things, maybe we should discuss your workload”.

Nat swept you into a hug. “Explains why you wanted to borrow the suit… I was hoping it would be for more indecent purposes”. She winked as you blushed. “These meatheads all had their tongues hanging out, you stunned them. Good thing it wasn’t the ‘Cell Block Tango’, you might’ve given them all strokes” she laughed.

Peter and Steve both also congratulated you on your performance, Peter enthusiastically as he was familiar with the show. Steve mentioned he would definitely be adding the movie to his list. 

You smiled at them all but before you could say anything more Danny spun you round, sweeping you up in a huge hug. “Petal, you were amazing! I cannot thank you enough for helping us”. He turned to Peter and Tony. “And thank you both for sharing the event on socials, it’s helped us sell out all the shows”.

“It’s the least we can do, given how much Sandra Dee here helps us out. Especially our resident grandpas” Tony shrugged carelessly.

Danny nodded in agreement, pulling you close to the doorway so he could murmur “Just a pen pusher huh?” Leaning back, he winked at you before letting go. “Great seeing you all, thanks for coming. Petal, Ash is here and wants to take me for a drink so-“

“So what are you still doing here?” you laughed. “Get changed and say hey from me”. He turned with a nod, almost colliding with Bucky. Danny apologised, Bucky reciprocating without taking his eyes off you. Face heating under his gaze, you opened your mouth to speak but Bucky beat you to it.

“Is that what you really think?” His Vibranium hand took one of your hands and gently tugged you closer to him, so there was barely any room to breathe. “You really think you’re just a pen pusher?” Dread filled you. His enhanced hearing… what else had he heard? Lowering your eyes, you saw his chest rise and fall before cool metal fingers cupped your chin and raised your gaze back to his. “Doll… you help all of us on the team. Yes, you ensure all our paperwork is filed correctly and on time. But you step up when we need someone to train with, make sure we’re looked after in the field and you help us all individually… Starks errands, Parker's love life, Steve and me being old guys…” You chuckled softly. “Even your guy knows how valuable you are to us, so I can’t - “

“My guy?” You blinked in confusion. “What guy?”

Bucky frowned at you. “Danny, who else? Anyway, even he knows what you mean-”

“He’s not my guy”. Now Bucky wasn’t the only one confused. “I told you all that we’re just friends… did you think we’re still a couple?” At the nods, you couldn’t help but chuckle. “I promise you, we’re just friends now”. A flash of movement caught your eye. “If you guys look you’ll see why”. The group gathered at the doorway to see Danny leaving arm in arm with a beefy looking man who was listening to Danny in adoration. Danny in turn planted a kiss on his cheek. “That’s Ash, Danny’s boyfriend” you smiled when five sets of eyes widened. Tony and Nat murmured something about needing a drink, Steve and Peter following them out the door. 

“But the picture…” Looking up, you see Bucky was still confused. “Last night I saw you in the lounge, you were looking at a picture. If it wasn’t him, then who?” For some reason he looked upset. Heart pounding, you crossed to your dressing table and picked up the Polaroid before holding it out to him. Keeping your eyes down, you heard him inhale sharply. “Doll…”

“I’m hopelessly devoted to you” you murmured. 

His flesh hand entered your vision, holding something. You gasped. It was a red rose. “Parker said flowers before a show is bad luck, and that roses are usually accepted afterwards. Do you know why one red rose?” You shook your head. “One rose is for new love… while the red is passion, desire and romance”. Your eyes darted to his blue ones, soft with love and happiness. “I’m hopelessly devoted to you too, baby girl”.

[violetsiren90]

WIP Wednesday

Pairing: best friend's younger brother!Changbin x f!Reader

Genre: drabble; established (secret) relationship; smut and fluff w/ a smidge of angst

Summary: Three months after you show up on your best friend's doorstep to find her brother instead, Changbin thinks it's time to let Nari know that things have changed.

Content warnings (for snippet only): 18+ (minors, DNI); showering together; allusions to sex; nudity; kissing and embracing; teasing (non sexual); mentions of reader's hair being washed; some minor anxiety and worries; fluff 🥰

Word Count: TBD.

“I have a confession to make,” his voice comes from over your shoulder and the patter of water against the shower floor.

You hum in response, eyes closed as his fingers lather shampoo against your scalp, filling the humid air with the scent of lemongrass and lavender. His other arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you close so that your bare back leans flush with his chest.

“…I told Chris.”

Your eyes open, droplets clinging to your lashes like dew.

“About us?”

His hand skims up your side and moves to cup your forehand and tilt it back as you feel the warm spray of the showerhead through your tresses. When the suds are gone he turns you around, hands on your hips. He looks like the cat who caught the canary as he nods and smirks, and you can’t help but smile yourself, even as you attempt to harness an expression of disapproval.

“How’d that happen?”

“He basically called me out on it. Said only one thing could make me so stupidly happy.”

“Mind-blowing sex?” you murmur, pressing your slick skin to his.

“You,” he corrects, his eyes glimmering as he leans down to press wet lips to yours. When he pulls away, you consider for a moment.

“You mean…he knew you liked me? Before?”

“You think my best buddy wouldn’t?”

A pang of guilt twists in your stomach at the remark. Your best friend is still very much in the dark about…well, everything where you and her brother were concerned. You chew your bottom lip as he helps you out of the shower. Absently reaching for the towel he holds out, you blink into focus as your hand clutches at air when it’s drawn back out of your reach.

“What…hey, why are you…?” you glance at Changbin, who is now holding the towel over his head, a victorious look on his features as his eyes rove your form.

“I like you naked. Five more minutes!” He whines with a chuckle as you swat his bulging pectoral and snatch the towel cradling his hips to wrap around your own damp body.

“You’re ridiculous,” you grumble with a smirk, but you adore it - how taken his is with every part of you. How he always wants to touch you, hold you, be close to you in any way he can. And how he never shies away from saying just exactly how you make him feel.

Though, you’ve noticed a shift in that particular respect over the last few weeks.

You watch him rumple the towel over his hair.

Sometimes he holds something back. You can always see it, lingering behind his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. You can feel it on the tips of his fingers and at the end of each sweet kiss. But it’s grown with time, and you feel the weight of it each time his eyes rest on you when he thinks you’re not aware.

You suppose it’s only natural that there should still be some mystery between you. Even after all the years you’ve known him, these were uncharted waters, and ones you’d strayed into more than a little clandestinely.

Keeping your relationship secret has had its benefits. It’s given you time to grow without the judgements and perceptions of others playing a part in your gentle discovery of one another. It’s also taken the pressure off of things - not having to answer questions from anyone you haven’t even had the chance to ask yourselves. And it was fucking sexy, to be honest, all the sneaking around. Inconvenient at times to be sure, but still deliciously indulgent to the rebel in you both.

But as you watch him open the mirrored cabinet to grab the toothbrush he keeps in your bathroom your heart skips a beat and you wonder if it’s time the jig is up.

You settle behind him, slipping your arms around his middle and resting the side of your head against his broad back.

“What did Chris have to say? About me and you?” you ask softly.

Changbin spits into the sink.

“He was stoked for us.”

You smile.

“He did ask if Nari knew.”

You sigh.

“I think she should by now,” he says, turning to speak over his shoulder. “I think it’s time.”

You hum into his skin.

“The longer we wait, the harder it’s going to be. A few months of privacy is alright, we’re still in the clear.”

He’s right. You know he is. You press your damp forehead into his back and sigh again.

“It’ll be fine,” he says around his toothbrush.

“She’s gonna freak,” you groan.

“She’ll get over it.”

You sincerely fucking hope so. The faucet squeaks shut and he turns, wrapping you in his big arms, to press a minty kiss to your lips.

“Stop fretting, beautiful,” his dark eyes sparkle down at you, “We’re gonna be okay. Nari too.”

Your heart melts as it settles when his mouth seeks yours again. Yeah. You could face all the troubles of the world, in fact, if you were allowed to keep holding him like this.

~To be continued~

[honeycloudz]

Perfect Storm | Chapter Three: Trapped with Truth and Dare

Content Warnings: MDNI, Mentions of blood on Sanzu (not his), Mentions of a gun, Sanzu teasing but hes also an ass, being stuck in an elevator, Smidge of angst if you squint, Sanzu is a menace while playing truth or dare, Ran teases too, Emotionally Constipated Jealous Sanzu, Fem!Reader has very brief wet dream (I promise Ill do actual smut soon), Mating press

Back to- Perfect Storm Chapters Next- Chapter Four: WIP

Today had been an unusually boring day without the normal banter of your coworkers as well as the strange quietness of not having Sanzu around. The Haitani’s and him had gone on a mission with Takeomi, leaving you with the usually quiet Mikey who shooed you away to your office to get paperwork done, just as Mochi and Kokonoi were doing in their own respective spaces. Bored, you sigh, walking to your office ready but dejected for the long day of paperwork ahead of you.  You stare at the clock ticking hung above your door, counting down the seconds before you can go home after long exhausting hours of signing documents and crime. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the clock strikes midnight as you let out a silent cheer and pack your belongings into your purse to then make your way to the rickety old elevator. You press the button that lights up beneath your finger and hum contently, excited for your plan to sit back on your comfortable couch and catch up on your favorite show. When the elevator opens, you step into it, continuously pressing the button to the first floor (as if it were to make the doors close faster) and just as they were about to shut- a hand suddenly makes its way between them- startling you. Your hands quickly make their way to your purse, where your gun is resting, on instinct. 

You curse under your breath in anger when Sanzu steps foot in the elevator, dress shirt covered in blood which you knew wasn't his own. Noticing your shift in attitude, he smiles smugly, and to your dismay speaks. “What? Didn’t miss me today princess?” he voices sarcastically. He watches you closely, trying to get a rise out of you. “Yeah, of course, just as much as my gun misses your big ass forehead. All that room up there and still not enough to make one coherent, well adjusted thought.”, you hissed back just as sarcastically, ready for the interaction to end as the elevator slowly descended. “My forehead isn't big” he grunted, turning away from you, picking and choosing what hears as per usual. “Is too” you spat back at him. As he was about to retort back, the elevator shook aggressively and grinded to a halt. “W-what is happening” you questioned out loud in fear to no one in particular. When suddenly the red emergency lights glowed and the audio system boomed with Rindou’s voice, answering you. “Hey uh, i know we would all love to end this night peacefully but unfortunately for you both, you'll be stuck in here for the next hour”- panic set in as you realized you'd be stuck with Sanzu alone - “please don't kill each other in there, we are all working to fix it (you hear slight snickering in the background, probably Ran laughing at your current predicament) dont worry itll be okay in no time”. Rindou finishes, sounding uncertain, not helping your current crisis. “Fuck” you curse out loud, hope dimming quickly. He turns to you, annoyance on his face. “Really?”. He exhales out of frustration, “Well, we are here together whether you like it or not, what do you wanna do to pass the time while they work to free me from hell?” You look at him, anger and shock written all over your face, “Free you from hell!? Go fuck yourself, and go to that corner, dont even breath near me asshole.” You reply and take a seat in the corner, opposite to his. He (surprisingly) listens and takes a seat away from you, “Pff, whatever, take that stick out your ass, I'd like to make it known I don't wanna be here either.” he huffs out. Choosing to ignore his comment, only a few minutes pass in silence, and to your dismay he starts repeatedly tapping the wall with his fingers in a rhythm, the sound getting on your already worked up nerves. “Oh my gosh, ok we’ll pass the time with whatever but you have to stop with that shit”, you glare at him. He laughs back in response, stopping his finger drumming. “Hmm..” Sanzu pauses to think before turning to you and declaring, “Lets play truth or dare”. You look at him, surprised by the childish remark when you notice the mischievous glint in his eyes. After a few seconds of thinking it over you respond, “Sure, but I start”. He nods, giving you the go-ahead. “Truth or dare?” you question, his answer being ‘truth’. With another short pause of thinking you ask him, “If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?” and for a second you swear you see a look of hurt on him, before its masked with the smug smile he returns quickly, and you feel guilt for some reason. He looks away from you for a moment before whispering “my scars” quietly, but loud enough for you to hear. You frown and look away, thinking when he breaks you out of your thoughts, questioning “Truth or dare?” to change the subject. “Uh.. dare” you boldly decide, quickly regretting it when he dares you to lick the floor. “Yeah I'm not doing that.” you say, unimpressed. “Fine, then it has to be truth!” he retorts. “Well there isnt many dares we can do in here anyway, so lets just keep asking truths”. You respond. And for the first time probably ever, you both agree on something.

“You ever fuck anyone that works here?” Doing a double take and staring at him in shock he only looks back, completely serious. Exhaling you answer, “Good God, and no.” You look over at him and he almost seems relieved? Knowing it's your turn, you ask him something almost equally as strange, “Have you ever practiced kissing in a mirror?” He looks at you weird, then laughs and you feel a small smile making its way to your face. “What? Thats so weird, why do you ask?” he runs his hands through his tuft of pink hair giggling at you. “I don't know, its a very you thing to do, and you didn't answer!” you defend yourself playfully. A few seconds of silence and him looking away is all the answer you need. He continues to look away before he hears you trying not to let a sound out, when he faces you he notices the wide smile on your face, that you tried to hide with a hand clasped tightly around your mouth, clearly you couldn't control it when he hears your laughter. And although its at his expense, he would usually respond with something mean, yet, for a moment Sanzu forgets he hates you. “Yeah whatever, laugh all you want, I was a teenager and now I can get the real thing and more, whenever I please.” He defends himself while you swipe the unshed tears from your eyes, calming down. 

Trying to change the subject, he questions, “If you had to pick someone from our team to fuck, who would it be?” Sanzu continues to ask out of pocket questions to try and embarrass you. Your face heats and your stomach drops and for a moment you think of him, on top of you and you decide to throw the thought of your head permanently. You look away, trying to think and all the comes up are filthy thoughts of him. “Ch-change the question.” You cough out. He leans in, “Nah I think I wanna hear your answer, princess”. He directs his complete attention on you, stare unwavering. A few seconds pass before you whisper “Ran”. For a reason unknown to him, Sanzu feels angry. Not at you for a change, but at Ran as if it were his fault. He masks his irritation by asking “Why him, of all people?” Quickly you respond “He was the first that came to mind” you lied, when suddenly the loud audio system answers, this time by Ran himself.

“Really? I'm honored sweetheart.” He giggles out to your complete shock and horror. “YOU CAN HEAR US?!” you question.

“Yeah, I'm surprised Sanzu didn't tell you.” You turn back at him with betrayal in your eyes and he only shrugs. God what an asshole, and to think you were starting to enjoy yourself even a little bit around him.

“I would've never answered that if I had known they can hear us! I don't wanna play anymore” you huff and cross your arms. “Aww the fun was just starting” Ran teases you, earning a quick shut up.

Sanzu decides to call it quits too, your answer the only thing replaying in his mind. You both stay silent for the duration of the period. Thankfully, before you fall asleep, a tired sounding Kokonoi announces that the elevator will work in the next minute. You stand, stretching and yawning, ready to get home when you notice the grumpy look on Sanzu’s face.

He stands too, and when the elevator dings and the doors open, he shoves past you walking- almost stomping away. You recollect yourself from the powerful push and make your way to your car. The only thoughts on your mind being him and his stupid face, his stupid smile, his stupid laugh too. You replay the soft look on his face in your brief moments of getting along, the thought being soured when you remember how he pushed you.

Exhausted, you finally get home, kicking off your heels somewhere random, not even bothering to undress you hop in bed quick to crash out.

Even in dream land he wouldn't leave you, your sleeping mind conjuring up the vulgar images of Sanzu groaning from on top of you, grabbing the under part of your legs that were wrapped around his torso, to put your knees to your shoulders, effectively trapping you in a once again, this time in a mating press, before he leans in and whispers “Cum for me, pretty girl”, while speeding up and deepening his thrusts, the filthiest grunts and praises leaving his pretty lips. Moans and whimpers leaving your own. “Hngh- Hah, I love those sounds, make more princess.”

A/N: omg? me updating so soon? once in a LIFE TIME, im sorry i think this chapter kinda sucks, forgive me </3, anyway some of you were wondering how my nipple piercing went, and it went fantastic! I really love them and im glad it went well lmao, anyway PLEASEEE send me requests, it can be smut or anything!! holy shit i forgot about the taglist too im just remembering, ill bring it back for next chapter <33 Love you guys, thank you for the support and reading!

[plusultraetc]

Fic Writer Interview

Thank you so much @starlightbelle for tagging me!! If there are any One Piece fans following this blog, I highly recommend Belle's fics!

-- How many works do you have on AO3?

Officially I have 18, but it's 19 if you include the Star Wars au (my beloved). I haven't taken it out of the anonymous collection yet because I promised myself I would only do so when I posted the second chapter, but I still count it in my head!

-- What's your total AO3 word count?

95,613 :') I know that's nothing compared to some writers, but I am unreasonably pleased with it. I'm wondering if I should do something fun when I break 100k, which should hopefully be soon with chapter 2 of 'now i'm glad i get forever' 🤞

-- What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

there's no good tricks but old ones

i'll take what i can get, i'll take what i am given

you've got no fear of the underdog

write me a list of how it is

every battle, every day

-- Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do!! I'm a smidge behind on literally everything this month, but I eventually respond to them all <3 I really do appreciate every single comment, they literally make my entire week and sometimes it takes me so long to reply because I am editing my response four hundred times to take out all of the !!!s.

(I also love getting to talk to others in the fandom, even if it's just for a single exchange--MHA is actually the Most Involved I've ever been in a fandom, and I've met so many really cool people by commenting and replying to comments on fics!! Thank you ao3 comments section, I love you ao3 comments section.)

-- What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm this is tough bc I don't write a lot of angsty endings, and most of my fics are canon compliant anyway so the angst is relative? With this in mind, it's probably 'there's no good tricks but old ones'--it's one of my only fics where there isn't some kind of emotional breakthrough or connection reached (or even the start of one) and it's pre-Paranormal Liberation War arc so we all know Hawks is headed for A Really Bad Time 😬

-- What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

All of them,, but I did write about Shinsou finding out he'd been accepted into the hero course in 'every battle, every day' which might take the cake (Brian from TAZ voice I'm so proud of them etc)

-- Do you write crossovers?

Do crossovers have to include characters from another media? Bc I've written aus set in other universes, but none of the characters from them appear 🤔

-- Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Thankfully no! I did once receive a comment that was just like. A Statement with no tonal indicators, In All Caps, but I'm 99% sure it was meant to be taken positively. okay 98% sure.

-- Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope! (I also don't read E-rated fics even though I get so many interesting looking recommendations with that rating 😭 If you've ever recommended me an E-rated fic and I just never brought it up again I'M SORRY)

-- Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of?

-- Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also no!

-- Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I think it would be fun :D

-- What's your all-time favorite ship?

It feels like cheating to say erasermic on the MHA blog, but like. I'm going to say erasermic on the MHA blog. I don't think I'd ever written anything for a ship in my life before them. To be loved is to be changed but to have a ship is also to be changed.

-- What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Never say never but rip time travel fic lol.

-- What are your writing strengths?

IF I SAY SOMETHING YOU DISAGREE WITH LOOK AWAY. But. I think I write good dialogue, especially banter, and that I am occasionally funny. I also think I'm pretty good at describing places, but only if I have a clear mental image of them, so I feel like you can always tell when I'm not sure what a room looks like (which is most of the time).

-- What are your writing weaknesses?

Second-guessing and self-doubting myself into genuine writing paralysis. Also internal monologue/narration, like a character thinking about and articulating their feelings :')

-- What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I'm a little confused about this question?? But I also only speak one language fluently so I can't do this anyway 😭

-- What was the first fandom you wrote for?

When my sister and I were kids we used to pick our favorite characters from a bunch of different movies/books/shows and tell stories about them all going on some kind of gigantic crossover adventure, so it was probably something along the lines of 'Scooby-Doo, Batman, and Jedidiah from Night at the Museum vs Firelord Ozai'

-- What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I have a few Demon Slayer WIPs I'd love to figure out one day!

-- What's your favorite fic you've written?

This question is so hard bc like. Does it mean my favorite fic while I was working on it, or my favorite result? The fic that was easiest to write, or most difficult but most worth it?? The fic I've reread the most, or the fic I'm afraid to reread in case it doesn't live up to the memory I have of it??? Can I do a top 3????

This was so much fun!! (even though it did give me several small crises staring at my stats page--run 'i'll take what i can get, i'll take what i am given,' 'there's no good tricks but old ones' is right behind you!!) No-pressure tagging @machiroads @blinkeasy @kyurilin @karliahs @poppy5991 @ifyougoillfollow and anyone else who sees this & wants to participate!! I was scrolling through my following tab but omg it's a long list so I def missed some writers 😭

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

Anyway, it's time for an Athelstan fic rec list:

So Deep the Water by themus This one has got to be up there with my favourite Vikings fics I've read so far. I don't want to spoil it too much (though I know I've mentioned it elsewhere on my blog in a bit more detail) but it centers around Athelstan, Gyda, and Bjorn and it is INTENSE. Talk about everything that could go wrong, going wrong. As I understand it it's also the first part in an unfinished series, so fingers crossed for a part 2 one day!!

Under Cover of Night by Librarina Modern AU time!!! It's funny, its In Character As Fuck, it's sweet, it's sexy, if you're looking for an Athelstan/Ragnar/Lagertha university AU you're in for a treat.

Viking Death Trip by Guede Ok LISTEN this one is, as the tags say, crack treated seriously. Semi-canon-compliant-world-AU. I don't want to give it away too much. it's SO WELL WRITTEN though. And a little bit insane. Yeah. It's a fun one.

Where It's Wild by MoreProfoundSwan Another WIP, and this one really blew me away with how intensely researched it was. The author clearly Knows what they're talking about and it's so so engaging to read.

a season for all things by with_the_monsters This one is unfinished and hasn't been updated since 2013 DX but it's so worth it. Basically my inspiration for that modern skiing AU I'm totally not working on. It's what it sounds like -- Athelstan tries to teach the Lothbrok kids how to ski, and gets absorbed into their slightly unhinged family dynamic. It's adorable.

Dragged into the Undertow by @eriexplosion A VERY angst filled account of Athelstan's journey from England to the north, that I was captivated by at every turn. It made my brain rotate violently inside my skull.

Just One Thing the Martyr Wants to Say by @eriexplosion Gah yes it's you again. More angst (this time with a smidge more of hurt/comfort?), nightmares, Fun Stuff. I go back to this one time and again to sate my need to make Athelstan suffer.

Storm-tossed by @angesradieux I had to include this one because it was one of the first Vikings fics I ever read!! ! More angst and h/c, of course. All their work is fantastic, PLEASE check them out.

And of course I gotta shout out Heorte til Heorte by @procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics and See You Tomorrow by @starrose17, both recent multichapters that rewired my brain chemistry. Former is Athelstan/OC, latter is Athelnar.

Enjoy y'all! I've read plenty of great Athelstan fic out there and I'm sure there's more I haven't read yet, so feel free to add if you like!

[starry-eyed-never-satisfied]

Fanfic Writer Ask Game: 😅 🤡 🛒 🍦🤗🧠🤲✅🤯 sorry if this is a lot lol

No worries I love asks and talking about my writing, so the more the merrier!

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

The only one I really feel weird about is Tonight I Wanna See It In Your Eyes. Just cause it's so short and doesn't go into enough detail on what I was trying to portray. I did it for writers month and tried to write it in a day, which I can't do. I love the idea though and I fully intend to expand it more one day.

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Driving On Down The Road and reason why Butt Fuck Nowhere is called that, and the whole of 100.000 Years, it's just so silly, but I really can picture them having that whole interaction.

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

Always angst, I can't help it. Paul's sensitivity and vulnerability, Gene's tough but caring.

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

Hold Me. No smut, just Paul in a dark place and Gene not knowing how to help, but still being there for him.

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

Don't feel like you need to start from the beginning. Write whatever it is that has inspired you, whether it be a scene or phrase. If you get to a bit where you want a particular thing to happen but don't know how to write it just type insert smut here or insert fight here or whatever and go on to the next bit. After you've written the stuff you're confident with it's much easier to fill in the gaps.

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

Here's a bittersweet head cannon about Paul and Ace for you. Neither of them will admit it, but they were close, and after Peter left they became closer. Paul didn't want Ace to leave and tried to keep him happy, even drinking with him on occasion. But he didn't want to get blackout drunk like Ace did, so it wasn't very successful. The pictures from The Elder/Creatures period, where they are holding onto each other - that's Paul silently saying don't go. But it was inevitable. And everything they have said since then comes from a place of hurt.

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

Because you liked Let Me Know so much, this is a follow up to it, called Far From The House And The Family Fights in which teenage Paul has a fight with his parents and runs away to Gene.

“We received a letter from school today, Stanley.”

Stanley.  That meant he was in trouble.  Even so, Paul rolled his eyes and headed towards his room.

“You are not going anywhere, young man!”

Stanley and young man.  He was in a shitload of trouble!

 “You are going to stay here and explain yourself!  You are on the verge of failing.  You haven’t done any homework and have been missing classes.  You’ve been drawing . . . penises in your schoolbooks.  And you told your teacher you didn’t need school because you are going to be a . . . rock star?”

Oops.  He hadn’t mentioned that particular ambition to his parents yet.

“What happened to you?” asked his father.  “You had so much potential.”

“God gave you this wonderful brain and you’re not using it,” said his mother.

Paul had heard this so many times before, and this time he lost it.

“Did he give me this stupid fucking ear too?  Because I’ll happily trade my brain for a real one!”

“Stanley Eisen!  Mind your language!”

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

Angst! Even when I try to write something happy or funny the angst creeps in. I don't want Paul to be unhappy all the time.

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

Fight scenes. Arguments I can do, but when it comes to the physical stuff I struggle. While I believe these guys probably did get into punch ups occasionally, I can't really visualise them, I've only seen fights on tv and we know how realistic those are lol

[sovhina]

bro i am on my hands and knees tell us about your destiny oc please or i may die. haha unless

First of all thank you so much 🥺🥺🥺 here’s some basic stuff with a smidge of info dump ghhffh accompanied by a very messy wip scribble from last night

Name: Eiva

Class: Hunter

Pronouns: they/she (leaning heavily towards they tho like a 70/30 split lol)

Sexuality: gray ace

They are my main Guardian oc for Destiny 2 and I’ve had them since I was like 13-14. Their main subclass is solar/void main weapons are the Ace of Spades, Wishender, and Vestian dynasty (in my heart it hasn’t been sunset). I actually have a long running private fic for them but I’ve only written like three chapters lmaooo with several smaller snippets. Some highlights are:

-I’m still working shopping it but back before the collapse when Eiva was human I headcanon that their family was actually in the weapons manufacturing business (specifically Khovostov lmaooo I hc that as her last name from wayyy back then but they’re also probably adopted)

-they had a sister who is pretty much central to Eiva’s entire character even as a Guardian when they can’t remember her. Similarly to Uldren they did everything for her but it wasn’t toxic like with Mara and Eiva was more like the big sister protecting little sister lmaooo; but basically they followed her everywhere even down to when they were awoken and when they left the Distributary.

-I personally headcanon that Guardians are brought back as a second chance because they had the capacity to be really good people in their first life but weren’t which is why the War Lords and Iron Lords and etc are Like That. So, Eiva was not very nice lmao. Their desire to protect their sister was pretty much all they cared about and they fucked over a lot of people.

-Their sister was pretty much their exact opposite and honestly more the typical main character formula as in wanted to be a hero. I made Eiva with this in mind and they are more the reluctant hero lol like they’re not really trying to be a symbol of anything to anyone it just always happens that they fall into positions of leadership. I even tried to make Eiva more plain in comparison so they have the typical kind of common blue skin white hair awoken combo but her sister to me is more unique and is these like really pretty shades of purple.

-Ok moving onto like actual current in game stuff lol Eiva’s current fireteam is made up of a warlock named Obi-1 (yes like Obi-wan) and T-13 (Tiberius-13). Their Ghost is named Sirius after the star bc it’s the brightest star iirc

-Obi and Ty are not her original fireteam. Their original fireteam consisted of an awoken titan (Sav) and another hunter (Killian) and three others for raids lol. All of them were their consistent raid team up until Oryx. Eiva in my canon is the sole survivor of the raid against Oryx and that raid is the reason for a giant shift in their character. It was their first really big loss. (Basically I think they all got really cocky after Crota and didn’t take it seriously enough)

-ok now onto some ✨Romance things now bc I love romance✨

-Sav was the first person they ever had feelings for after being Risen I’m still messing with it but I think I’m gonna have a very messy very sapphic love triangle-ish type thing going on there with another guardian lmaoo

-a very convoluted and self indulgent ship with Crow/Uldren lmao basically I headcanon that they knew each other wayyyyy back when they were both humans and when Mara pulled her bullshit making the Distributary she made them forget each other

-to add some ✨spice✨ to that ship and Eiva’s overall story I also had them have feelings for Cayde (I’m debating how far they actually got into this situationship that exists in my head lmaooo ya know before he 💀)

-presently Eiva is mid slow burn with Crow so you can imagine my excitement at the prospect of Cayde coming back because the angst is gonna be so good dhdhdhs (I have like 15k worth of fic so far for this character and a long running series in my brain lmfao)

-some random fact now uhhh

-Eiva knows exactly how they died their final death in their last life but pretends not to

-Eiva knows exactly how many times they’ve died and has asked their ghost to keep a record of them so they can look back on them and learn from them

-Eiva has a particular hatred for the hive bc of Oryx

-they participated in getting married to shaxx for the Lolz

-has a lot of “warlock” tendencies for a hunter (they were actually originally a warlock when I first made them I swapped to hunter maybe a year before D2 came out and their old name was trinity)

-their name Eiva comes from Edelweiss I bastardized it bc it’s their favorite flower; when they were a kid they had a vested interest in botany that their parents did not support lol and that life didn’t allow them to explore

-I chose edelweiss bc of its meaning (devotion), it’s description (it’s a flower that grows even in the toughest conditions), and I based her hair/eye color on that white hair (petals) yellow gold eyes (middle) lol

If you’ve made it this far you’re a trooper and I salute you lmao and thank you so much for the interest! I know this is an art blog but I am always dying to info dump about my ocs either here or on my personal so feel free to send me asks even though I am slow sometimes dhsjsj

[bitchbrisket]

Thanks to @slightlyintimidating for tagging me in the fic writer 20 questions game, I haven’t done one of these in a couple of years.

How many works do you have on AO3? 515

What’s your total AO3 word count?

Too many words to count?

What fandoms do you write for?

In the past there was a bit of Wicked, the three musketeers, more recently the Miss Fisher murder mysteries, Berena, Mamma Mia every so often but for the past few years it’s been a smidge of ghosts, an occasional foray into the wheel of time, a hefty dose of the worst witch (both 1998 and 2017) and a sprinkling of the Mallorca files.

What are your top five fics by kudos?

All of these are Berena. Mainly AU which is great. I do love an AU. I’m fond of most of these fics.

Lonely hearts of Holby (fics featuring radio are criminally underrated)

Love endures & love is kind (what possessed me to write a vicar ffs?)

Wolfesbane take me away (this turned out better than I realised it would)

Oh Major (smutty smut smut smut)

Love of a lifetime (I think I would have written this a bit differently, in hindsight) .

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always. Comments and kudos are never guaranteed and someone took time out of their day to show me that they appreciate my scribbles.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I’m not a fan of ending with angst but I have written a couple that end in death or a breakup usually because the character has been killed off. The most recent was won’t find the answer by staring at the stars.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of them.

Do you get hate on fic?

Every so often. Got a bit more a few years ago but I’ve recently had an anon who’d acted as if I’d forced her to read the story under duress and she decided I had psychological problems. Absolute lol.

Do you write smut?

I do. I try not to repeat the same phrases and wording all the time and I have a list of phrases I can’t stand reading so that makes it even more of a challenge.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I’ve written a handful of crossovers. The most popular one I’ve done is Chessy from the parent trap and Miss Honey from Matilda. Someone on tumblr shipped them so I wrote the story and gifted it to them.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I contributed to one with my friend Jaqui (I never knew you were the someone waiting for me)

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Got lots; Serena Campbell & Bernie Wolfe, Siuan Sanche & Moiraine Damodred, Ada Cackle & Hecate Hardbroom, Agatha Cackle & Dimity Drill, Maria (?) & Baroness Schrader, Elizabeth McMillan & Concetta Strano, Bill Anderson & Harry Bright.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

I deleted it in the end but I was trying to write a crossover with Poirot and Mrs Bradley. But I’m terrible at writing murder mysteries so I gave up on it in the end. I just know that the butler didn’t do it.

What are your writing strengths?

I’ve been told that I write great comedy one liners. That my writing isn’t cliched and the way I describe a character’s emotions and actions feels very real.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Extending dialogue for a long time is a struggle for me. I do well without much dialogue. Feels like a script and it seems wooden to me. And action. Can't write any action whatsoever.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Fine. I’ve done it occasionally.

First fandom you wrote for?

I think Elisabeth the musical?

Favourite fic you’ve written?

I can’t pick just one. But I really enjoyed writing Sweet nothings & Wind's in my eyes, I heed your call

Tagging: @batnbreakfast @marvelousmadmadammim @sosaywefrakkinall711 @hovercraft79

Questions to respond to:

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fic?

9. Do you write smut?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

[possibly-drunk-on-fanfiction]

A big portion of a WIP that may or may not see the light of day. I guess I'm a bit proud of this bit I wrote.

Warnings: character death, violence(murder), smidge of angst

Tom came home from a short day in the office. His home with Harry was warm and cozy. The complete opposite of the ministry and all of its machinations. He slid his coat off and hung it on the hook right next to Harry's. His eyes roved over the jacket before picking it up and breathing in deep the fresh scent that could only belong to Harry. He set it back with some finality. He looked through the house for his counterpart. Eventually finding him napping on their bed. He crawled onto the bed before pushing lightly on Harry to get him to roll onto his back. Tom settled onto Harry's crotch. He didn't still even as Harry made a groan at the pressure Tom exuded on him. Carefully he pulled a blade from the inside of his cloak. Throwing the sheath of the blade beside Harry's head, Tom finally took a shaky breath and leaned over Harry a bit to kiss him and rub the hand without the blade across his cheek. He stared for a good minute before bringing both of his hands to grasp the handle of the blade. Tom raised the blade high into the air before diving it straight into Harry's abdomen. The scream that tore through Harry's vocal cords didn't fill Tom with warmth or satisfaction. The only warmth he could feel was the blood that splattered onto his hands and robes from another stab. Whatever words Harry babbled out fell on deaf ears. Harry couldn't even grab at Tom in desperation because Tom had positioned his knees directly onto his hands. Tom raised the blade again after another stab before plunging it back down again. Another stab. And then another. Tom remembered the day they met. A ray of sunlight on an otherwise dark and gloomy day. And then another. Tom remembered the day they had sex for the first time. Full of passion and nerves that only grew more intense. And then another. Tom remembered the day they got married. A much larger affair than Harry wanted but he had never seemed brighter. And then another. As Harry's eyes glazed over. The only light left came from the reflection of the tears that dripped onto Harry's face. "I'm sorry darling, but you were going to take it all away from me." Tom remembered finding both the Auror report and divorce papers in Harry's desk. Tom kissed Harry one last time. "I'll be right behind you."

[pbpsbff]

😅🥺🎢👀🎉

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

i'm a little embarrassed of be mean to me because there's SO MUCH i would've done differently if i had started it today. right now. but idk maybe one day i'll do rewrites again. maybe one day i'll actually FINISH the fic

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

idk if this counts because it all exists only in my drafts but i really like those bittersweet endings where two people know that they've done all they can (or straight gave up) and have to just. move on separately. like they both go on to live happy lives but without each other in them. does that make sense

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

definitely my chatfic because that is 80 something chapters of absolute nonsense with random angst arcs every like. 20 30 chapters

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

i think i posted an ss from this once but i don't remember anyways the main plot idea is that peter cat sits for ned for an entire week except his cat is evil and hates peter with a passion. this is a terrible description i promise it will be more interesting when i release it to the masses

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

i wanna say something profound like oh if i like the fic if i am happy with what i wrote then it's a success, but i have a terrible need for validation so usually getting several comments on a fic tells me i did good??? idk bookmarks and kudos and subscription are cool but when there's somebody speaking words to me about my writing i'm like wow i made it

[crowpricorn]

Hi!

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

thank you rae! 💗

questions

😈

I'd say, yes-ish? I like to put a bit of angst in my fics, for instance (not much, but more than what I would like, so it's mainly a plot devise and to keep readers on their toes). the last fic I published has a bit more pining angst than usual, and my upcoming wip is a whole self-indulgent angst tale. but I wouldn't say I put too much effort into being mean to my readers, though! it just either comes with the flow of the plot or doesn't.

🛒

I'm a sucker for aus that still manage to explore the characters' complexities, their canon depths, their troubles and traumas and desires in general. so I try and keep true to *how I read* the characters, without straying into ooc. I also love mutual pining, describing wylan from jesper's pov because the lovesick man is completely gone for him, writing canon-ish happenings but rewritten into og forms / aus. I also mostly write romantic stuff, getting together fics, meet-cute or meet-ugly, and lately I've been throwing myself at fantasy stuff rather than modern aus (httyd au, witch wylan, angel/demon, fairy oak au, prince wylan au.. a sprinkle of magic to liven things up a little, even though they are harder to write than modern aus / canon compliant - post canon fics, and most of them will never see the light of day😅)

👀

so! I've been having a major writer's block for the most of this summer, and lately I've been trying to get back to writing with either my crack wip "What size is your beautiful dick" based on this pic, or my witch wylan au, BUT what really got me going has been blind wylan au!

first thing first, I dreamt the whole of it so the plot is all but ready, but it's so self-indulgent that I was like... whatever! will not keep writing this! who would read it? but I love it so much that I can't not write it and not share it! it will be 4 chapters long (3 + epilogue), all different povs and based on the three stanzas to "soldier, poet, king". the name says the most of it: wylan has an accident and he loses his whole sight, à la jenna from pll, and his father orders him to never leave his home "because he is clumsy and needs to be protected" (à la 10 years old rapunzel who saw the beauty of life before being forced away from it in his tower), thus cutting his relationship with his only friend and crush (you guessed it) jesper.

small snippet from it under the cut :)

"I'd like to see the swing by the lake," Inej says before she can change her mind.

"Sure," says Wylan. "I'm certain that Nina..."

"I don't want Nina to come with me. I… I want to see the swing and the lake and the hill your mum painted on and the fields you played with your friend and I want you to come with me."

Wylan's jaw locks and clenches so hard she swears she can hear his teeth clasp together from afar.

"I can't…"

"You can," she gently says. "I see you, Wylan, and there's no way in the world you can't. You are brave. And strong."

"I'm afraid."

"He is not here anymore," she tries.

"And nothing else is," Wylan snaps, tears welling at his wide, blue eyes, mouth open around labored breaths. "Not for me. No lake and no swing and no—" he bites his lip, but by now she knows what he means. Who he means.

😅I have a whole fic that I swiped out of my ao3 because I'm dead embarrassed about it, so I would say *everything* about it! but also in terms of wips, the bonus chapter I had written (and will never publish) to that fic, that is a whole pwp thingie and, as I found out, I'm so bad at writing pwp or nsfw in general because it makes me self conscious/ embarrassed. here's a tiny tiny bit of it:

"I want to paint you," Wylan softly muses, sometimes, and Jesper sits or lays still — well, not actually still still, but he tries — for as long as Wylan needs. Wylan usually sketches the shape, border, lines, or however they are called, and then he doesn't need Jesper to stay put until he has to work on colors and lighting and such. So, Jesper usually crawls between Wylan's legs, and he does his best to distract him from painting.

He never manages: Wylan keeps painting and he holds Jesper there, mouth slack and full with Wylan's unmoving cock.

Every time, he orders Jesper to go back to the sofa, or bed, or chair, and Jesper obliges, with heat pooling in his stomach and straining the skin of his own cock.

(Wylan makes sure to make love to him good and hard, after. You have been so good and so patient, you are beautiful. You are perfect, just for me, he whispers between pushes and kisses and moans, and Jesper thinks that that is worth all the wait he has to endure).

[sapphyre-blogs]

😅 and ✅ for the fanfic ask game!

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?- i haven’t written TOO many fics (that i’ve actually published) but i had a silly fic involving valjean and javert from les miz (it was a WIP and! while i have positive feelings abt it it still feels odd to look back on the Previous Special Interest yknow)

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?- hmm, probably the ND-coding of the characters 💀 like. sorry dr who/stede and ed ofmd you’re autistic/ND now /lh (and also the way i want characters be comfortable or safe at some point in the storyline, like i’m all for writing angst but i Need them to have some happiness 😭)

(fr tho i don’t think i could actually write a neurotypical character without it seeming SUPER stilted lmao)