#okay goodnight this took like an hour to write bc I couldn’t do words

[soullessjack]

6am exhaustion posting but it’s very funny to me that jack is compared to so many serpents, the biblical serpent in the garden. the ouroboros. the black snake. and then he loves fantasy movies with heroes that crush villains. he reads fairy tales like sleeping beauty, fairy tales that predominantly have knights in shining armor slaying the dragon or the serpent. obviously with him wanting to be a hero he’d follow the KISH archetype, but also look. serpents are medievally satanic symbols. fairy tales are majority stemmed in European Christianity. He’s literally a dragon that wants to be a knight . A satanic if not Thee Satanic Serpent wanting to be a hero and a Knight In Shining Armor and actively partaking in slaying other beasts for acceptance. this vision came to me with caffeine and zero sleep but do you see it .do you see how this is insane and also funny. Do you understand it …..

[princessjungeun]

Lucid Dream: Gender Neutral! Reader x Winter

.Request: heyy! i was the person who sent the aespa question, but can you write a winter x gender neutral reader who is gowons older sibling. and they’re winters s/o and they’re a soloist under sm, and they the plot can be the reader writing and producing lucid dream while aespa are in the studio lots of fluff please! and maybe a bit of angst bc of jealous winter (bc of karina preferably) thank you in advance!

The sound of your phone ringing filled your bedroom waking you up out of your sleep. You rolled over and decline the call, seeing that it was your younger sister calling you. However, when she called again you knew that if you didn’t answer she’d just keep calling until you picked up. Groaning you sat up and accepted the call, “Chaewon-ah it’s 2 in the morning. What’s wrong?” Your little sister whispered into the phone, “I need help...I think I’m in love with Hyeju.” You sighed and asked, “Why couldn’t this wait a few hours Chaewonnie? Why is that a problem?” Your little sister quickly whispered back, “It’s a problem because I love her in a way that best friends and coworkers should not love each other! What do i do?” Sitting up, you realized that this call would definitely not end soon, so you flicked on the lamp on your nightstand. You told Chaewon, “I don’t know what you want me to tell you...you can always confess, but if you don’t want to then keeping it to yourself is the other option.” 

Your younger sister shuffled on the other line and you heard her step outside, by the sound of the cars in the distance, you could tell she was sitting on the balcony. She asked you, this time above a whisper, “So I can’t just like- stop liking her? What did you do with your girlfriend?” You replied, “I ended up realizing that I was in love with her, and then I confessed. That’s it.” Chaewon tried to reason, “W-well then maybe I don’t love Hyeju like that? Yeah. Maybe I just love her a lot as a really good friend...” A silence fell over the two of you before your little sister asked, “Well what did it feel like for you?” 

Furrowing your brows you tried to put the right words to the feeling, “I felt like...when I wasn’t with her something was missing. I was so attached to her in a way that I never felt before, like she completed me...and she was on my mind all the time. Even when I was asleep, she was in my dreams. It was always different, but the same. She was leaving me, but I looked for her every single time. I just wanted to be with her forever. But because we work in the same company, I was convinced it wouldn’t work. I tried to shut out my feelings and tell myself it was all fake, but I couldn’t stop loving her...I couldn’t stop love, I guess.” Your little sister stayed quiet for a moment before saying dryly, “Well that was...deep. I still don’t know what to do though.” You sighed and told her reassuringly, “Chaewonnie, there is absolutely nothing wrong with falling in love okay? This is your feelings, not mine. So I can’t really tell you what to do this time like I do with other things. I trust that you’ll make the right decisions when the time comes. But for now, just enjoy being around her and being with her, she’s your best friend, she won’t give you up that easily. Just let things take its course okay? Who knows she might feel the same way.” The younger girl hummed, “Mmmm, okay. Thank you Y/N. Goodnight.” You responded, “Goodnight Chaewon-ah.” She hung up the phone and you did the same, putting your phone down, the lock screen flashed. It was a picture of you and Winter asleep, one that Giselle took because she thought it was cute. 

Images of your girlfriend flashed through your mind as you remembered your conversation with your younger sister. Softly you hummed a random melody followed by mumbling the words, “No, no, no I can’t stop love.” You thought for a minute before humming a little more, making a melody up as you went. Quickly, you reached over and grabbed your phone, snatching it off of your nightstand. Opening the voice memos, you hummed and vocalized the melody and sang the words, “No, no, no I can’t stop love.” 

Sitting back against your headboard you thought for a moment longer, more than anything you needed sleep. You’d just finished promoting your recent mini album a few weeks ago and your sleep schedule was still messed up. Your manager had been urging you to get it back on track so that you would be sleeping at regular hours once again, and you had...kind of...not really. Deciding that getting whatever song was forming on your mind was more important, you got out of bed and walked to go get yourself a glass of iced coffee. Drinking cold brew at 2 in the morning wasn’t ideal, but it’d keep you awake long enough to finish whatever you were about to start. 

For the next hour you sat hunched over your old spiral notebook that was decorated in stickers that your girlfriend put on once when she got bored. You wrote messily, trying your best to make sure that the hangul and English would still be legible later on. When you finished, you looked at the page that was written, words crossed out and scribbled over, with some random doodles in the margins. Immediately you moved to your mini studio that was originally your wardrobe...until you just put all of your clothes in the hallway and in bins in the closet. Paying no attention to the amount of time passing or he sun starting to rise after a few hours, you stayed in the confines of your wardrobe and finished the song you started.

When you finished the song it was six in the morning and you were damn near falling asleep standing up. You knew that you had to be awake and at the company at noon, so you went to sleep for a few hours until your alarm went off. The sound of your manager entering your dorm woke you up, the alarm system indicating that the door had been opened. You rolled over and groaned, knowing that she was going to literally drag you out of bed if she had to. An exasperated sigh filled your room, “Y/N- were you up all night again?” You groggily replied, “No...not all night. I was asleep until two and went back to sleep at six.” She sighed and said, “Okay well it’s time to get up because you have a meeting with your boss this afternoon.” It took fifteen minutes for your manager to get you out of bed, but eventually you were up and ready to go for the day. 

*

*

*

Meetings with your bosses were always stressful for you when they were regarding music that you’d written or produced. Although you had success with a lot of the music you’d worked on alone and with other writers or producers, you were still nervous when it came to introducing the song to higher authority. Shifting your weight in your seat you waited for a reaction from the few people in the room after they listened to the few songs you’d put on the USB drive for them. By their blank facial expressions, you couldn’t tell what they were thinking about. 

When the songs were over they all exchanged looks and murmured between themselves, so low that you couldn’t hear it. One of the executive producers stated, “Honestly Y/N, I’m really surprised.” He paused for a moment before continuing, “These are incredible. I’m impressed with your ability to use and manipulate sounds to create music that is relatively unalike, yet it all complements each other perfectly. Good job.” You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you sunk back into the chair you were sitting in, exhaling deeply after holding your breath. 

The producer started once more, “There is something I want to ask you though, this one song here...Lucid Dream...” You felt your heart pound, unsure if you had accidentally put too much into the song, potentially outing yourself or something related to it. He continued, “I feel like this song would fit for a group. I’m not sure if you recall but Aespa is currently working on their mini album.” You nodded and mumbled under your breath, “I did write the title track so...” The comment went unnoticed as he stated, “Well we are still in the works of picking their B-sides. I think this would be a great addition to the album, do you all agree?” He looked around for the approval of the other people in the room, all of which nodded and talked over each other in agreement. 

You replied, “Well...as you all are aware, I don’t sell my songs. But I am more than willing to have a consultation to discuss this.” Your boss agreed and set another meeting for the next day, wanting to get everything squared away as soon as possible. 

By the end of the week you were set to be in the studio with Aespa along with an audio engineer. The girls were ecstatic to be working with you because they’d been begging for the opportunity, especially Winter. You hadn’t been able to work with the girls while they recorded their title track, which was disappointing but at least this time you were able to be around them.

The audio engineer was going to be late because he was at another studio working with a soloist, but she reassured you that she’d be there no later than 30 minutes in. So you waited around for the four girls to arrive while you worked on some other songs independently. After about ten minutes the door opened and the girls walked in but you didn’t notice them. A pair of hands removed your headphones as another cupped over your eyes. You cringed at the feeling and removed the hands, “Ewwww Aeri-ah, your hands are cold and wet.” The girl faked a pout and said, “Sorry I just washed them...” 

Your turned around and stood up, greeting the four girls and giving them all a hug...and sneaking a kiss onto Winter’s cheek. Most people assumed that you didn’t know the girls at all because there were never any public interactions with them, even when your schedules overlapped each other during their last comeback. But, that couldn’t be further from the truth, they were some of the only idol friends you had, especially Karina and Winter: 

In 2018 you'd decided to audition into SM as a joke with your close friend. Your little sister was an idol and people often asked you if you’d consider becoming one as well. Time and time again you told them that you weren’t the talented one in the family and that Chaewon was, but everyone disagreed. In an effort to prove you point, to get people off your back about it, you decided to just audition for a company. A friend of yours did the audition with you, mostly as a joke considering neither of you were actually taking it seriously. The two of you didn't expect to hear anything back from the company, so when you got an email confirming that you passed the first round of auditions, you were stunned. At first you pushed the idea of becoming an idol from your mind. Being an idol was Chaewon’s thing in your mind, and you didn’t want to take the attention from her. However, when Chaewon found out, she begged you to just consider it because it’d be nice to have a more familiar face around even if you weren’t in the same company. With your parents and Chaewon’s encouragement and support, you accepted the opportunity.

When you arrived to SM, you were the only new one for months, unlike a few of the other trainees, you didn't come in with someone else. Joining by yourself was lonely for a while, you didn't speak to many of the other trainees, mostly due to a language barrier. Some of them made efforts to talk to you, but gave up when you were too shy to keep conversation going.

Jimin was different.

She saw you one day standing off to the side during one of the dance practices. You were in a group of a few girls preparing for a showcase, the other girls stood around together during a break while you stood alone. Although you were looking at the ground, you could feel a set of eyes on you. Looking up slowly you saw a girl staring at you, she walked over and introduced herself, "Hi, I'm Jimin, my friend wanted to say hi. This is-" the girl looked next to her to see nobody there. She turned around and ran back, pulling a girl in an oversized hoodie, playing with her sweater paws. She elbowed her, the other girl looked up, "Hi I'm Minjeong."

Since that day you, Karina, and Minjeong grew closer, the three of you had personalities that matched well. When you weren't with Minjeong you were with Karina, or on your own producing and writing your own songs when you had the time. You were practicing day in and out in hopes that you'd be able to make your debut soon.

All of your work paid off in early 2020, you debuted as a soloist under SM. It wasn't exactly what you thought was going to happen, but you were happy that you were finally able to do what you'd trained so hard for.

You sat in your rolling chair facing them as you talked back and forth with the four. You asked, “You all heard the song already right? The parts are all distributed and everything, no problems?” The girls nodded and Karina replied, “Yeah, it was really good bye the way. It has a nice vibe.” You smiled, growing shy as you always did when you received genuine complements. Giselle added, “I’m in love with the talking part too.” You laughed, “I’m glad, I changed it up for you actually.” She dramatically flipped her hair and grinned, “Ugh I’m so special aren’t I?” 

Leaning over you grabbed four papers from your backpack, “Oh, I don’t know if you all printed out the guides, so I made them for you. I color coded your lyrics so you know where to sing, in case you get lose or something...” Ningning sighed, “Why can’t you be our producer all the time?” You laughed and said, “As much as I’d love to, you know I can’t do that.” 

Looking over you saw your girlfriend sitting, clearly lost in thought as her eyes were locked on you. She blinked rapidly, snapping out of her thoughts with an embarrassed giggle. Padding over to you softly she sat on your lap, your arms looping around her waist as you rested your head on her side. Her hand played with your ear, softly tracing lines from the bottom of your ear up to your temple.

Giselle and Ningning looked at each other and said in unison, “Ewwwww.” The two jokingly pretended to gag and throw up as they looked at you and your girlfriend. Karina on the other hand rolled her eyes at them and told you both, “You two are cute, they’re just mad that they haven’t found anyone yet.” Ningning shot back, “Oh and like you have?” The leader smirked and said, “Mmm maybe I have.” She turned her attention back to her phone, ignoring both Giselle and Ningning asking over each other if she was actually serious. 

To get the girls off of her back Karina waved them off and said, “I actually have a question Y/N. Can you help me with something?” You nodded, “Sure, what’s up?” Karina explained, “Well when we’re doing practices I mess up this one part in our title track sometimes. But I recorded it fine in the booth. Can you see if you know what I’m doing wrong?” It wasn’t unusual for one of the girls to ask you for help when it came to honestly anything, you were known as the ‘4th gen ace’ among many. 

You replied, “Yeah sure, what part is it?” Karina responded, “The high note right after my rap. Sometimes I get the note perfect, then others it just doesn’t come out right. Dancing or not.” Gently you tapped Winter’s thigh and she moved off of your lap, going to sit next to Giselle and Ningning. Karina stood in front of you and you asked, “Can you just sing that one part? Don’t bother with the rap, I know you can do that part.” She sang her line and just like she’d mentioned, her note came out funny. 

Moving behind her you placed a hand on her stomach and another on her back, “Try it again.” She did as you asked and right before the note you pushed her back up slightly, straightening her posture. Just like that her note came out perfectly. You rested your hands on her waist for a moment, something that was a natural habit between you and her, as you’d been best friends for years. Winter looked at you and her then at your hand placement, feeling an odd twinge of jealousy bubble up inside of her. She shifted uncomfortably and held onto Giselle’s arm, and rested her cheek on her shoulder. 

Karina beamed, “How did you even- What did you do?” You told your friend, “You weren’t breathing from the right place and your posture wasn’t good enough. You just need to breathe from a lower spot and straighten your back and you’ll be fine.” She hugged you, “Thank you so much...I was going crazy trying to fix it by myself.” You ran your hand down her hair and replied, “No problem Rina.” 

Winter’s grip on Giselle tightened, the older member realizing it quickly and wincing slightly. She murmured, “Calm down Minjeongie...” You heard the side comment and looked over, seeing your girlfriend who’s eyes were still on you as she white knuckled her member’s cardigan. You brushed it off, not thinking much of it as she tended to hold onto her members often, not realizing that it was you that was causing her to act that way. 

You told the girls “Okay hmmmm... you all need to finish warming up because the second the audio engineer gets here Ningie is in the booth.” The girls nodded and started doing their vocal warm ups while you set everything up to get ready for recording. 

Once the audio engineer arrived Ningning got into the booth and recorded her parts. You didn’t have to give much direction for her, she understood everything that she needed to do after the first take and you gave her feedback. She was able to recognize where she needed to sing one way and another way. You told her at the end, “Good job Ningie, that was good, you can come out now.” She thanked you and sat in the back next to Giselle. 

You looked at your girlfriend, “Alright Miss. Minjeong, you’re up.” She laughed at the formality, rolling her eyes playfully as she stepped into the booth. She gave you a thumbs up and you started the take. Compared to the maknae, Winter had more trouble recording her parts. You found yourself having your girlfriend redo her takes three or four times because it didn’t sound how you wanted. Sitting in your chair from outside of the booth you paused, sitting in silence as you thought about what you could say to explain what you wanted. 

Winter stood awkwardly in the booth, chewing on her lip and fidgeting with her fingers, growing slightly anxious because it wasn’t going as well as she’d hoped. You told Winter, “You sound- it just sounds a little stiff, you know? It sounds heavy...can you try the chorus again? It’s supposed to sound somewhat dreamlike, but not light.” Your girlfriend nodded and did the take once more, just for you to stop her again. Sighing you put your head in your hands, getting more so frustrated at the fact that you couldn’t explain how you wanted to. Softly you told her, “Come out and I’m gonna have Rina go in next, then I’ll do yours over okay?” Your girlfriend nodded, a slight frown on her face as she padded back outside of the booth. 

Karina entered the booth and put the headphones on, adjusting the mic to her height as well. You turned on the talkback mic and laughed, “Rina, wait I have to say something.” Your best friend looked up at you with a raised eyebrow, you told her, “You look really pretty today, especially in this lighting.” Karina laughed and thanked you, playfully waving off the complement as she replied, “Oh please you look better.” You both laughed again before she gave you the signal that she was ready to start her take. 

She easily recorded her part of the pre-chorus and post chorus, earning complements from you right away. When she got to her part of the second verse you stopped her, “It’s perfect except for one little thing. When you get to the end of that lyric, ‘ 잡힐 듯 ��친 손 틈 사이에’, can you breathe more into that last note. Imagine you’re literally exhaling into it, I wanna hear the breath at the end. Make me fall in love with you from your voice alone.” Karina nodded and gave you a thumbs up, doing the take over and attempting to do what you asked. You told her, “That was almost it, I’m gonna have you do it one more time. Can you just sing that last note for me? Just the ‘ 사이에’. Like this.” You sang the note for her, demonstrating what you wanted to hear, compared to what she was giving you before. From in the booth Karina let out a soft, “Ooohh. Okay. Got it! I got it.” She replied in English, with a smile and a playful wink causing you to laugh and say, “You’re so cute.” 

Winter watched the interaction from the couch behind you, she glared at the leader than at you. Giselle mumbled to her jokingly, “You know that glaring at them won’t burn a hole in the back of their heads right?” Winter huffed and got up, leaving the room without saying anything. Ningning and Giselle looked at each other, then you, and back at each other.  As much as you wanted to go after your girlfriend, you knew that stopping to go after her wasn’t an option as Karina was still in the booth. You knew that work came first in this instance, so you continued. 

When Karina was done in the booth you turned to Giselle, “So do you want to take your turn now or-” She cut you off, “Go get her first.” You nodded and told the audio engineer, “I’ll be right back, uh...you can leave and come back in ten if you want I guess.” He nodded and followed you out of the studio, going down the opposite hallway. 

Minjeong stood in the restroom, in the last stall just lost in her thoughts. Her eyes burned with tears of frustration, only a few of them falling down her face. Of course she knew that you and Karina were friends, all three of you were best friends before you and her started dating. Winter knew that Karina would never do anything to try and separate the two of you, that wasn’t the type of person she was. Usually Winter didn’t mind seeing you close with other people, complementing other girls or clinging to them never bothered her. She knew that you loved her and she trusted you more than anyone else, especially with her heart. However, seeing you with Karina just tipped her off a bit. She knew that it was also due to her own frustration with herself for not getting her parts recorded right away like she always had before.

When you opened the bathroom door you knew that your girlfriend was inside from the hums to your song that echoed through the washroom. You called out, “Minjeong-ah? It’s your turn to record in the booth, can you come back now? Giselle won’t record until you’re done and she has the most lines so...I kind of need you in the studio now.” She opened the door and left the stall, washing her hands then turning to face you, “Is that it?” You replied, “Well...I mean there’s still like backing vocals to record and stuff but today is just-” Your girlfriend pushed past you, mumbling under her breath, “Fine.” 

Only now did you realize that you definitely messed up some how, at some point during the day. You turned around and left the restroom, heading back to the studio to try and remember if you said anything to her that she could have gotten upset about. After not being able to think of anything off the top of your head you pushed it from your mind, deciding that you’d just have to deal with it when you all were done for the night. 

Winter was already in the booth when you entered the studio again, she’d already adjusted the mic and was clearly waiting for you to return. You started the take and she sang her lines no problem. You were able to finish all of her recordings after a first or second try. Despite her finishing quickly, she didn’t seem anywhere near happy about it. She didn’t spare you a glance when you spoke to her through the talkback and she only replied with giving you a thumbs up. 

When she exited the booth and Giselle entered Winter mumbled, “Am I done for the night?” You nodded, “Yeah-” She cut you off, “Okay bye.” She thanked the audio engineer and left, probably going to go dance in a practice room or something. From the back of the studio Ningning pointed out, “I don’t know if it’s just me...but I’m pretty sure she’s mad at Y/N.” Everyone in the room turned and looked at the maknae who just looked around and obliviously asked, “What” You shook your head and just turned your attention back to Giselle who was waiting for you. Luckily she was able to finish her takes easily, she stumbled a little on the English speaking part but you were able to fix it right away. 

After you all were finished for the night, Giselle, Karina, and Ningning decided to head back to their dorms because it was fairly late at night. You on the other hand went to find your girlfriend, wanting to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. 

Minjeong almost always practiced in the same practice room out of habit, so it wasn’t hard to find her. When you entered the barely lit room she was blasting 7am by Mariah the Scientist, doing a choreography you made and posted months ago. You smiled softly, finding it cute that she always learned your choreographies even if you didn’t teach them to her. She noticed you in the mirror, and immediately she stopped dancing and went to turn the music off. Just as she was about to leave, her bag in hand, you stopped her by grabbing her arm lightly. 

Your girlfriend huffed, still slightly out of breath from dancing, “Just leave me alone Y/N.” She snatched her arm from your hand and left, closing the door behind herself. You weren’t one to push her into talking to you when she clearly didn’t want to. Letting out a soft sigh you decided to just go home, you two would be able to figure out whatever was going on tomorrow, or another day. 

*

*

*

Laying in bed you tried to sleep, but your thoughts raced from one thing to the next, all of them leading back to one person. Winter. After tossing and turning for an hour you sat up letting out a frustrated huff. You got out of bed and shuffled to your in-home studio. Picking up your guitar you started strumming, humming and vocalizing melodies despite your voice being laced with exhaustion. Paying no attention to anything but the guitar on your lap, you didn’t hear your front door click open. 

A soft voice snapped you out of focusing, “Hey...” You jumped, holding your hand over your chest you gasped as your chest heaved, “Shit! You’ve gotta stop doing that.” She laughed weakly, tucking one of her hairs that slipped out of her tiny ponytail behind her ear. You asked, “Why are you here? It’s like three in the morning.”

Winter inched closer slowly, “I couldn’t sleep...and I wanted to talk to you.” You set your guitar down and motioned for her to follow you back to your room. She sat on your bed, the side that she always slept on when she was with you. You sat in front of her, seeing that her eyes were puffy and red. There were tried tears on the corners of her eyes and her nose was pink. You hated knowing that she cried, but she also hated you knowing that she did as well, especially when you pointed it out. Pretending not to notice it, you asked, “So, what did you want to talk about?” 

Your girlfriend told you, “I wanted to apologize to you. I wasn’t nice to you earlier and you didn’t do anything to deserve that. I had a bad day and I was frustrated that I could record my stuff as easily as I usually do. Then I got jealous of you and Jimin unnie when you two were just doing what you normally do. So I wanted to say I’m sorry for all of that.” She looked up from her hands in her lap, nervously moving to play with one of the seams on the blanket that was on your bed. 

You responded, “I accept your apology, thank you. I’m also sorry that I didn’t notice that you were upset sooner, I would have tried to help you.” The two of you sat in silence for a minute, hands slipped into each other’s as you layed next to each other on your bed staring at the ceiling. You blurted out, with a teasing laugh, “Wait did you say you were jealous of me and Rina?”  

Winter groaned, “I shouldn’t have said anythinggggggg!” One of your pillows hit you in the face as she whined. You hit her lightly with one of the many stuffed animals you had on your bed and said, “I’m just teasing! Besides you know you have nothing to be jealous of right?” When she fell silent, not answering you looked at her genuinely, “You know that right? Winter, you know that don’t you?” Your girlfriend didn’t reply, her focus on the hot pink stuffed teddy bear she got you for Valentine’s day last year. 

You sat up and asked her, “You know that you have nothing to worry about right?” Her gaze flickered around your room as she mumbled, “Mmmm...” She shrugged her shoulders and played with your hands, running her fingers over the small calluses on the pads of your fingers. Gently you pulled her onto your lap, one of her legs on either side of you as she faced you. Lifting her chin with one of your fingers you raised her gaze, “You know that right?” 

You were more than aware that after you debuted, Winter felt more self conscious being with you. There were so many people saying that you were the 4th gen ace, and that you were this perfect being. For Minjeong that only made her feel like she wasn’t enough for you emotionally and physically. People were constantly emphasizing your ‘perfect’ personality and stunning looks, always saying that nobody could compare, and nobody would be deserving of your love so you’d have to settle for less. You tried to diffuse these comments from people, knowing full and well that after a certain point that it would reach your girlfriend’s ears and she’d be taking it seriously. But it’s been a while and you thought that she was over thinking like that, or at least she’d done her best to convince you she was. 

Winter shrugged, “I just think you’ll find someone better and prettier than me...” Your hands found her waist, your warm fingertips pressing into her skin gently, and your thumb grazing her skin softy. Firmly you stated, “I won’t find anyone better or prettier than you Minjeong. You’re the one I want, I don’t want anyone else. You’re the only one I have my eyes on, the only one that I look at. I’m never going to leave you okay?” She didn’t respond, she only chewed on her lip and played with a seam on your t shirt. Your hands slid up and down her waist, making her laugh nervously as you said, “I need you to understand that, please.” 

You moved one arm to loop around her neck, the other pressing the back of her waist. She leaned her forehead against yours while your fingers grazed her nape, twirling the soft baby hairs that stuck out of her small ponytail. After a moment she nodded, “I understand.” Winter leaned in and kissed you delicately before rolling off of you. She slipped her hand into yours as your legs tangled with hers under your blankets. Her head rested on your chest, one of her arms thrown over your torso as she let herself succumb to sleep. Sleepily she told you, “I love you Y/N.” You scooted closer to you as if that was even possible and replied, “I love you too Minjeong-ah.” 

[sylvie-writes]

Bad: The Unfortunate Ending

Inspired by this song ➳ Bad by Lennon Stella

(Ransom Drysdale x wife reader)

A/n: this is my first attempt at angst so here we go... 

Disclaimer: not part of my fall writing, this is just a lil something bc I needed to write, it makes me happier after days as today. 

Warnings: Cheating, mild profanity, shitty angst & writing. Ransom being an asshole (rip all the soft Ransom stories I’ve written)

Series Masterlist

Never in a thousand years would you have seen yourself sitting in Boston’s most expensive and high end restaurant, a steak simmering at 500 degrees laying out in front of you, and the Ransom Drysdale sweetly smiling at you.

“Wait, before you start eating, I have something to ask you, love.” 

Was he gonna break up with you?

Ransom reached over his plate to reach your hand gently bringing it to his lips while maintaining eye contact with your shocked expression, soon calming.

Oh whew.

The man then set down your hand, and folded up the napkin in his lap before rounding the table, getting down on one knee. Your eyes were already welling up with tears, making it impossible to see all the people staring at you and Ransom.

“(y/n) (l/n)...

… … ...

Will you marry me?” 

After his adoring speech, the four little words came out and the man on his knee was staring up at you like you were a goddess. Overwhelmed, you happily spewed out the words of acknowledgement while Ransom slipped the lavish diamond onto your ring finger, kissing the now ringed finger before scooping you up from your chair, the two of you in a deep kiss amidst the cheers.

A few months later the two of you got married, and everything was a dream. You had a lovely house, and a husband who was practically your closest friend. The two of you spent all your time together, told every joke, talked all the time. Believe or not but Mr. Fancy Pants had preferred that you got married sooner rather than having an extravagant wedding ceremony. 

So that's what you did. One lovely Monday morning, you and Ransom drove to the courthouse, in the beamer, as if it were just any other day. 

You thought then and there, that this was it. Life was finally playing in your favor...

 All the little gifts you gave

I call it over compensating

Feeling just like a princess

Every answer was always yes

You had me living in a dream

 “Oh Ransom!” You played with the little puppy down at your feet, a red ribbon adoring it’s small, yet fluffy neck.The little thing jumped into your arms, causing you to lift off the floor, walking closer to Ransom. 

“Why did you get me a puppy, Hugh?” 

He just cheekily smiled and shrugged, walking by to kiss your cheek. “No reason!” 

You just laughed it off before going outside to play fetch with the energetic fur baby. 

Ransom always treated you for no reason, at times you really hated him for it, but not once would he ever let up.

About four months into your marriage, Harlan had invited you and Ransom to some writer’s charity gala, a black and white party, meaning Ransom was gonna rent a tux and you’d find an overly priced yet attractive dress. 

So, one Saturday afternoon, you and Ransom went to the mall, getting fitted for your clothes. You weren’t about the name brands like Ransom was, but today, Ransom now had full advantage to shower you in expensive clothing having already picked his tux yesterday. His sneaky little plan to go dress shopping with you.

“What about this one?” Your husband held up a black slip dress designed by Prada. Curiously you walked up to him, checking the tag to see its $1,000 price. In all honesty, from the looks of the dress, you had assumed Ransom picked up a simple dress. Sure, it was pretty but you weren’t about to pay that much just for the name. For what it is worth, you could sew and tailor the damn thing yourself. 

“That’s ridiculous, Ransom. I’m not about to pay that much.” 

You went to go walk off before you felt Ransom’s hot breath in your ear.

“Who said you were paying?”

Turning around, you playfully pushed him in the chest to which he laughed and peppered kisses all over your face.

“Ransom! Stop, you’re making a scene!”

He pulled away for a minute, your giggles ceasing.

“Let me treat you and I will stop.”

Quickly, the man resumed his attack, your pleas soon becoming words of compliance.

“Fine!”

His signature smirk danced across his lips, while his free arm snaked around your waist ushering you to the tailor’s stand. 

 What's forever long to you

Did you say that to her too

Making sure that I'd never know

Callin her while the shower goes

 It was a little after midnight and Ransom wasn’t home yet, today he had been out with some friends, not inviting you. Your only company for the day was your precious little puppy, who was curled up against your stomach. The endless worry had kept you up all night as you mindlessly stroked the puppy’s back, trying to calm your own nerves.

Eventually, an hour later, the hallway light shone under the door, Ransom coming in. He was met with your worried look and came to rush over to your side.

“You scared me to death, Ransom. Two hours ago, you were supposed to be back!” 

“I know. I know. I’m so sorry baby. Now, get some sleep, I love you. Forever, my love.”

Ransom gently pulled the blanket over you, kissing you goodnight, then heading off to shower.

Turning on the shower, Ransom pulled the phone out of his pocket, scrolling to the bottom of his contacts and dialing, Blair❤️. 

“Hey baby, today was amazing Ranny!”

A deep chuckle left Ransom’s throat, the woman on the phone giggling.

“I know, angel. You are the best, love ya forever, Sweetheart.” 

Blair continued to gush over the phone, recalling the earlier events of the day at her house where Ransom had spent the whole day. (leaving that sentence to the eye of the beholder.)

Shower, and you, long forgotten, Ransom spent the rest of the night talking to the woman, leaving the bedroom to go downstairs, assuming you were already asleep.

Ironically, that night, you dreamt of all the times you and Ransom would stay up just talking and laughing...

Then crawl back in bed, it's a shame

I probably should've known better

I probably should've known better

 It was 4 am, and Blair had fallen asleep on the phone, leaving Ransom to bid her goodbye and get some shut eye himself. 

It was like sleeping next to a stranger, the warmth of the bed now gone. Coldness, replacing the loving embrace.

About two months ago, your work gave its employees a week off for the holidays. It was once in a blue moon that you got to see your family, so you seized this opportunity. You wished your husband could have come, but Ransom had to stay behind to help Harlan with an upcoming novel. In truth, Ransom never saw himself reverting back to his bad ways, but who knows what entices people to change.

One night, Ransom went out for a drink, a young lady, about twenty-seven years old, came up to the sulking man. He was drowning his sorrows in a couple of beers, wishing he were there with you. Oh how he missed you!

“Hey stranger.”

The sultry voice hit too close to home for Ransom, a voice he knew all too well.

And let’s just say a few drinks later, he came to remember his old fling as Blair.

 I wish that you would've treated me bad

The truth is you couldn't have loved me better

Now I'm left feeling twice as sad

I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad

It felt like you were living a hallmark movie, and never would you have thought any different.

Your feet were propped on the Ransom’s lap as the two of you laid down Uno cards on the coffee table. 

“Ransom?”

“Yes, darling?”

You set the Uno cards in your lap, adjusting on the couch so that you’d be straddling Ransom. The man brightly smiling at you, enveloping you with his muscular arms. In complete bliss, you leaned forward and kissed him, a slow and intimate kiss. Time completely stopped as you were just in your own little world. 

He treated you so well, you’d never be prepared for the heartbreak that’d ensue. 

 I wasn't catching on to you

Blinded by your lips so smooth

Excusing all of your gotta goes

Leaving me to be all alone

 “Do you really have to go, Ransom?” 

Your arms were wrapped around the man’s neck, pleading for him to stay. A small frown made a way onto his lips before he leaned in to kiss you deeply, pulling away from your lips while you were still trying to catch up. 

“I gotta go.”

With that, he rushed out. A business meeting was it? Or was it Harlan? You couldn’t remember. For the past two months, you’ve been accepting all of his excuses, soon all of them blending, yet in the end you were always left standing in the house, alone with your dog.

It's okay, you told yourself. Sure he forgot your birthday last month. It’s fine.

As long as he didn't forget your wedding anniversary next month, everything would be fine…

Right?

 Then you took my heart just the same

I probably should've known better

I probably should've known better

 No it wasn’t fine. He forgot your anniversary. He forgot you. In the mornings, he’d no longer stay with you, instead finding an excuse to rush out, no kisses, not even hugs, Rarely did the two of you talk and soon, it became your new normal.

You should’ve known better.

 Every word you said you was sweet but you was lying

Everything you covered making up just to keep to me from crying

Another late night, Ransom had gone to help his mother at some dinner party for her business, or so he said. He left early this morning, claiming he was gonna help set up and that he’d be home by 8. Yet, here you are, watching the 11 o’clock news, waiting for your husband’s arrival since he had left you with radio silence all day.

Suddenly, the door flew open, a sloppily dressed Ransom, stumbling in, clearly piss-ass drunk.

“Oh you're awake!”

You walked over to help him sit on the couch, just as you were about to turn off the lamp beside the couch, you noticed a tint of red lipstick on Ransom’s lips. You hadn’t worn any lipstick today, right?

Tenderly, you traced your thumb over his lips, as his eyes gazed into yours.

“Ransom, what’s on your lips?”

In a poor attempt, Ransom went to grab your hand, missing and instead grabbing your shoulder, leaning in to kiss you, instead getting your ear. 

“It’s nothing, (y/n).” 

His head was laying on your shoulder, as he was about to fall asleep, his energy suddenly gone.

“Really? It seems like something, you have a woman’s lipstick on your lips for god sake!”

Ransom then perked up and hugged you tightly, whispering reassuring words to you. Drunkenly, his words mashed together, causing you to barely understand his “comforting” speech. 

“I love you so much, sweetheart, I’d never do that to you.”

Sweetheart, a name once reserved for you, now unknowingly shared with another woman.

Believing his lies, because why not? He had never given you a reason not to trust him, not yet anyway.

 I wish that you would've treated me bad

The truth is you couldn't have loved me better

Now I'm left feeling twice as sad

I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad

 That very next week, Ransom had to leave once again, this time a boys’ trip to the club. You thought nothing of it, now used to his absence, keeping to yourself with the dog and some friends.

Later that afternoon, you were enjoying a sandwich and lemonade out on the front porch when a Maseratti pulled into the driveway, a familiar man stepping out.

“(y/n)! Is Ransom home?”

The man pulled you into an embrace, leaving you confused at his presence.

“Why are you here Oliver? Ransom said he was out with you and James.”

Oliver just shrugged his shoulders, he too jumping to the same conclusion. At this point you were just seeing red, storming into the house, Oliver following. You practically were stomping holes into the hallway for your footsteps were as heavy as your heart. Maybe all along you had been suspicious deep inside, maybe you just never wanted to believe it.

Then finding Ransom’s phone in his nightstand, you came back into the doorway to meet Oliver. If your suspicions were true, you’d like to at least embarrass the dumbass in front of his friend. They all knew he was a playboy at heart, but after you, every one had assumed he’d matured somewhat. 

Clearly, they were all wrong.

Your husband was the biggest idiot in the world, making his password your anniversary date, for he was so forgetful. You found this hilarious, because he forgot your first wedding anniversary, god you were so naive. 

Was this wrong? Sleuthing through his phone?

Sure. But it could never equal up to what you were about to find. 

Opening text messages, 50 unread, all from you, your messages definitely ignored as a woman named Blair was at the top of his messages. 

You gagged at the heart by her name, one that used to be by yours. Scrolling through the texts, you found yourself growing angrier by the minute, finally, you just lost it. With great vehemence, you slammed the phone against the floor, making it shatter everywhere, Oliver and your dog, slightly jumping.

It was then that it hit you.

You crashed to the floor, crying hysterically, as the world came crashing down with you. Oliver, crouching down on the floor, trying to calm your sobs.

Tonight you were gonna confront that backstabbing, no good, cheating son of a bitch.

 Tell me the truth

Was it worth it was I worth it for you

'Cause we were perfect we working til you

Forgot to tell me you been seeing someone else for six years

It was 9 pm and you hadn’t expected Ransom’s arrival for another hour or two, so you spent the time packing your bags and drinking some coffee, preparing yourself to tear the man a new one. 

This time, there wasn’t a slammed door signaling Ransom’s presence, rather soft footsteps and his low voice, like the old days.

Ha, the one time he gets home early. Ehh you were ready anyway

“Hey babe! Oooh can I have some?”

Before you could answer, Ransom took your mug and a few swigs of coffee, handing it back to you, placing a kiss on your head. In utter surprise, you looked up at the man who just smiled down at you.

“You look I haven’t kissed you in weeks, my love.”

And with that he pecked your lips quickly, walking to the counter, you still trying to process what had just happened. 

It was true. He hadn’t kissed you in weeks.

No, you weren’t gonna let him win this time.

“It’s because you haven’t.”

Confusion swirled around on Ransom’s face, allowing you to continue.

“You haven’t kissed me in weeks. But you have kissed Blair, I'm sure.” 

The coffee mug in his hand dropped onto his foot, shattering, leaving you smirking at the small victory.

Heartbreak can make one go insane. Afterall, you are losing the one person you loved most, losing yourself along with them. 

“For months I have put up with your bullshit…” 

A good ten minutes passed of you yelling at Ransom, the man unexpectedly letting you finish.

“You’re a cheating, son of a bitch.”

Angrily, you ripped off the wedding ring, now noticing Ransom wasn’t even wearing his, for god knows how long too. Once upon a time, he’d proudly wear it all the time.

“(y/n) wait--”

Ransom grabbed your arm before you slapped him, the man slightly stunned.

“No. I’m tired of your excuses, I’m tired of letting you win. You and Brittany, should have an amazing life together, that is if you can even commit to her like you told me.”

A whisper of defeat left his mouth.

“It’s Blair…”

“The hell with it! You broke my heart Ransom! I knew it was too fucking good to be true. DAMN IT, I LOVED YOU.”

Hysterically laughing, you looked like a mad woman, lowering your voice just a bit.

“You know what makes this hurt 2x worse? I thought you had actually loved me too, because it seemed like it.”

You broke into tears, your heart in a thousand pieces, rushing away to grab your bags, Ransom not even trying to fight, knowing you're too strong this time. He let the best thing that ever happened to him slip away. 

Ages ago you could remember the lovely times with the man you once would die for, yet...

Your love was just an illusion. 

 I wish that you would've treated me bad

The truth is you couldn't have loved me better

Now I'm left feeling twice as sad

I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad

I wish that you would've treated me bad

Truth is you couldn't have loved me better

Now I'm left feeling twice as sad

I wish you would've treated me bad bad bad

a/n: maybe i should stay away from angst bc this sucked.

Updated a/n: this is gonna be a series! If you’d like to be on the taglist lemme know!!

[farfromtommy]

better than this (dad!chris evans)

summary: a little insight into life as a parent with chris throughout the years 

warnings: talk of preterm labor but nothing graphic or major

word count: 2,250

A/N: okay so like this idea came to me at 2 am and wrote it till about 5 in the morning and im crying at the softness. totally unedited and posted bc im so obsessed with it. i havent written in this kind of format before but i loved loved loved it. i was also thinking while writing this to do this but for steve rogers and i swear i lost my mind. if you guys are interested in something like that id love to write this but for steve <3 

masterlist 

add yourself to my taglist here! 

After meeting through some mutual friends you fell in love with each other. Chris swore he would have married you after your first date. A ring came about a year and a half later, Chris not wanting to call you anything but his wife for any longer. One dream wedding and a month-long honeymoon around the world, you were Mrs. Y/N Evans.

The conversation about kids came fairly early in the relationship. Him coming from a big family, he wanted the same for himself. He wanted a big house in the Massachusetts suburbs, the white picket fence, a couple of dogs, and the kids. He wanted to come home from work being attacked by a couple of kids and seeing you walking towards him barefoot and pregnant.

You were an only child to divorced parents, growing up mostly on your own. You never saw yourself as a mom, but always loved the idea of running after a couple of kids. Never wanting to bring a child into the kind of world you grew up in. The sad and lonely kind of world you endured most of your life. After meeting his family after a couple of months of dating and seeing the way he interacted with his nieces and nephews, you couldn’t help but hope to see yourself raising some kids with him.

He loved the idea of raising a family with you.

Grayson Christopher Evans

You brought your first child into the world not too long after your wedding.

You were in labor for about 16 hours before you were met with the screams of a baby boy.

Your baby boy.

He cried and cried until his skin met yours, calming him down almost instantly. Looking over at Chris who was at an absolute loss for words at the little person calming himself with the sound of your heartbeat. He looked at you for a while before looking back at his baby boy.

Chris couldn’t quite process the feelings he felt that night his son was born. He knew how much he loved you. You knew how much you loved him. But having this little person as a tangible expression of your love and commitment for each other was just beyond him. It was beyond anyone.

Grayson was just like his dad. Almost an exact copy of him if you were being honest. The same big blue eyes. The same soft brown hair. The same everything. Lisa often said how much Grayson was just like Chris was when he was a kid. There was little of you visible in him. Maybe he had the curve of your nose and the shape of your lips. But he was all Chris.

His little personality bubbling since day one. You couldn't have asked for a more perfect baby. He giggled as much as he could and played until he fell asleep with a toy in his hand. You were so lucky to have been gifted this little boy as your first baby. Chris had been struggling to balance work and his responsibility to you and Grayson but never failed to make sure you knew how loved you both were, even from thousands of miles apart.

Eleanor Olivia Evans

After another long labor, you welcomed a little girl into your new family of 4. A tiny little girl who, just like your boy once did, calmed themselves down at the sound of your heart and the warmth from your body. Chris once again sat there just absolutely beside himself at the sight of the love of his life with his little girl on your chest.

Introducing Eleanor, or Ellie, to Grayson was probably one of the greatest moments of your life. Chris walked in with Grayson in his arms telling him that we needed to use our indoor voices when talking to mommy and the baby. Grayson quickly climbed to sit right next to you, not bearing even 1 day away from you. You hugged your little boy and talked to him about meeting his sister. Grayson ran his little hands running along Eleanor’s cheeks as you sat there crying at the moment they were having with each other.

Now with a 3-year-old and a 1-year-old life couldn’t have been sweeter. You had hardly been working while pregnant with Ellie, still having to keep up with a rambunctious toddler. Before kids, you were doing some writing for all sorts of movies and TV shows. After kids, you took fewer jobs that require travel and stayed mostly local.

Chris not wanting to leave you at home with a toddler and a newborn had made sure his work kept him close or allowed you and the kids to go with him. You both wanted to make sure you were there when Grayson and Ellie needed you.

If Grayson was a mama’s boy, Ellie was 1000% a daddy’s girl. She refused to let Chris out of her sight if she could help it. She refused to sleep most nights without hearing the sound of her dad’s voice and would cry and cry if he didn’t sing her to sleep. When Chris was pulled away for a week for work you were losing your mind trying to get her to sleep.

After a mild breakdown, you gave in and called Chris knowing even hearing his voice over the phone would calm the baby down. He sat there on the phone and just talked to her. She fell asleep almost immediately and slept through most of the night. You thanked Chris and ended up asking him for voice recordings of him talking and singing so you could play them in case he was pulled away again.

Charlotte Rose Evans

Charlotte, or Charlie as she's been nicknamed by her siblings, came into the world with a crew waiting so patiently for her arrival. By far the most painful and complicated birth you have had, she had quite dramatically made her entrance into the Evans family.

You had been monitored closely the last couple of months of your pregnancy as Miss Charlie tried to make an appearance early. You had some complications about halfway through and your midwife had been worried about possible preterm labor. You had started to have what you knew were contractions at 30 weeks and were immediately rushed into the hospital to try and halt the contractions and luckily succeeding.

You were placed on strict bed rest for the remainder of your pregnancy, not even allowed to stand at the stove making dinner, only getting up to use the bathroom and move from the bed to the couch.

It didn’t make your life with an overactive 4 and 2-year-old easy at all. Chris stayed home 24/7 to take care of you and his mom and sisters rotating taking the time to stay with you to help with the kids.

When Charlie did make her debut both of you were as healthy as you could be. Once again, bringing Chris to tears as another baby made their way into your family. He didn’t know he was capable of loving this much. He thought he had reached capacity after Ellie but the love he had for you and his kids just kept growing as you kept adding on.

If Grayson was all Chris, Charlie was all you. Except for her blue eye, which you figured would be a pattern with your kids. She was a copy of you and Chris ate it up. Eleanor is a perfect combination of the two of you. You could see the traits of you as well as the traits of Chris throughout her. But Charlie was completely you.

Grayson fit right into his role as big brother and protector of the Evans girls. He made sure every night he said goodnight to his sisters and told them he loved them with a kiss on their foreheads.

Ellie was excited that she no longer had to share her dolls with Grayson and would finally have a girl to play with. Charlie looked up to her big sister, seeing her as the most amazing person she has ever met.

Grayson, however, felt like he needed another sibling, specifically a boy sibling, and constantly asked you for a brother. He said to you over and over again that his friends at school had brothers and he needed one so very bad. You and Chris had agreed to stop at 3 but had given into the idea of having 1 more to try and even out the numbers. With Grayson in 2nd grade, Ellie in kindergarten, and Charlie starting Pre-K soon, having another wouldn’t be impossible.

Declan Robert Evans

The 2nd boy and the 4th and final child Chris and Y/N had brought into their world. Another perfect mix of Chris and Y/N.

His birth being the last time you would be in the hospital having a baby made it just that more emotional. You soaked in the first moments of his life just a little bit more. Chris cried just a couple more tears, seeing that angel on your chest for the first time. You admired the father of your children just a little more seeing him introduce the addition to the family to your other kids. Adoring the look on Grayson’s face when you set Declan on his lap, finally meeting the little brother he’d been wanting. Asking you if he could take him to class to show off to all his friends.

Walking around your house Declan’s first day home was more emotional than you had thought it would be. You brought every single one of your babies right through your front door. You had pictures littered around the house of moments in your life you were lucky to have immortalized forever. Knowing you had started your family here made you love everything just that much more.

Declan now 5 years old, Charlotte 8 years old, Eleanor 10 years old and Grayson at 12 years old you couldn’t imagine life any differently. You and Chris celebrated 13 years of marriage and almost 15 years together surrounded by the physical representations of the love you two shared for each other was unexplainable.

You had slowly started to get back into the work you loved doing so much after Declan started school. You were able to work on projects offered to you with Chris and had become an unstoppable duo professionally and personally.

Even having the amazing opportunities to do something you loved to do, nothing would ever beat sitting around a table listening to your kids talk about everything and anything that came to mind. Listening to them talk about what happened at school or about upcoming events they want to participate in was the highlight of your day.

Grayson had been playing with a football the moment he could pick one up. Chris nearly cried when Grayson had approached you guys about doing little league football at the rec center. Chris had been watching Patriot's games with Grayson since the day he was born. Taking him to games with Scott whenever they had the chance. The love for football ran in his blood and when he found out he could play on a team he took the chance as soon as it presented himself.

Eleanor had found a love for music and performing, just like her dad. She had picked up music and singing at a very young age, which probably came from her dad's love of performing. You encouraged her to pursue her love for music by telling her stories of when her daddy was young and used to stand on stage before he started doing big movies. She loved looking at pictures and watching old videos of Chris performing in high school whenever she'd visit Grandma Lisa.

Charlotte had picked up your love of reading and writing as soon as she could. Her favorite day of the week is when her class gets to spend time at the library finding new things to read and learn about. So far a running theme with her is books about nature and animals. She loves sitting down with you in the afternoon and telling you about what she learned in the science portion of her day. She had learned about how plants and animals interact and how important they are for all humans. She told you that when she's big she wants to make sure no one ever hurts plants and animals since they are so important for us.

Declan hadn't quite developed a love for something like his siblings had. All he cares about right now is the kind of snacks his mom packs for him and superheroes. You and Chris had introduced him to the world of superheroes recently, knowing that being in school someone was bound to mention to him about seeing his dad on a movie they watched. He was obsessed with the fact that his dad was a superhero once upon a time. He loved watching Chris' movies and would always ask to watch them whenever Chris wasn't home.

You looked at Chris from across the table as Grayson talked to him about football tryouts and asking him if they could practice after dinner. He felt your eyes on him and looked at you with a smirk and a wink thrown at you before giving Grayson his attention again.

You sat back a little to look around at this family surrounding you, knowing there was nothing better than this.

[galaxyofmyown]

could u do a fic where reader is scared that hotch is cheating on them and hotch learns that its bc their past partners had cheated?

anon, i think i may scream. not because of your request (it is lovely and original and i like it). but i think my brain is bye-bye GONE. this took me like four days to write for literally no reason. so i’m writing this note to apologize in advance for errors or literally just bad writing. brain-machine say no. but PLEASE! feel free to send another request and i promise i will craft it as the gods crafted man (well, i’ll try). AHHHHHH. i hope you enjoy anyways!! :))))))

NOTE: I FINALLY MADE IT GENDER-NEUTRAL THOUGH AHAHAHA

aaron hotchner x reader - i know not

“Hey, baby,” Hotch says over the phone. It’s almost midnight and you’re alone in your bed once again.

“Hey, Aaron. How’s the case going?” You ask. You’re curled up under your clean sheets, freshly showered and in your favorite sleep clothes. But for some reason, you don’t feel comfortable at all.

“It’s… coming along. I should be home in a day or two.” He says. He sounds genuinely tired, and you trust this man with all of you, or at least you try to. Sometimes, though, you can’t help but get paranoid, the darker memories creeping in, clouding your vision.

“Okay. I love you.” You say softly.

“I love you more. And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I understand.”

“You are extraordinary, (Y/N).”

“Ditto, Agent. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. Love you.” He says again, easing your worry.

“Love you too. Stay safe.”

You plug in your phone and set it on your bedside table. Your room is lit only by one small lamp, and you stare at your ceiling. Your mind wanders even though you did not give it permission to do that. Usually, Hotch asks you to watch Jack part-time when he’s on a case, but in the last couple instances he assured you that Jessica could take care of him. It was probably nothing, but you couldn’t help but jump to a worst-case scenario. Were you getting cheated on again? Or was he about to break up with you?

No. Bad (Y/N). Stop.

But he was always so annoyingly vague about his cases. What if, and we’re just spitballing here, what if he isn’t even on a case when he says he is? What if he finishes the case, and rather than going home to you, he goes to some other person’s house? 

You sit up in bed, suddenly wide awake. You know you’re being ridiculous, but you can’t help it. Aaron is a great guy. He loves you. He wouldn’t even cheat if he didn’t love you. He wouldn’t do that to anyone. You’re reaching for your phone before you can convince yourself not too.

“Hello?”

Just hearing Hotch’s voice makes you feel better.

“Hi. Sorry. I didn’t mean to call you.” You say.

“Are you sure? Is something wrong?” He asks, and his concern makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

“No, everything’s fine. Sorry again. Goodnight.” You hang up before he can probe more.

You sigh and walk to the kitchen to get a snack. You don’t think you’ll be getting much sleep tonight.

---

You wake up at 7:30 the next morning for work, your eyelids drooping and feet dragging. You make coffee in your biggest travel mug before heading out. Your day at the publishing house is slow and you think it’s a miracle it ends at all. You check your phone as you’re leaving the building and you see a text from Hotch.

Agent: Hey (Y/N). I’ll be home tonight around 8. Want to come over? Jack will be home and I know he misses you as much as I do.

You smile like an idiot and quickly respond that you’ll be there on the dot. You’re walking to your parking space when a familiar silver sedan passes you.

“I know not.” You say, your suspicions confirmed by the familiar license plate. You rush to your car before you start crying in the middle of the parking lot.

Why else would he lie to you and pretend he wasn’t back yet? Was he going to his place to meet someone right now? You start your car and pull out of the lot before you lose your nerve. You don’t know what you’ll say, but you have to confront him. You had your suspicions in your last relationship, but you ignored them. The only good that did was give you four more months of ignorant bliss before you realized you were being cheated on yet again.

You’re shaking by the time you pull up to his apartment building. You climb the stairs with the nervous anticipation you used to get as a kid when you had to get a shot. You have a moment's pause before you reach the door, your knock strong despite the weakness in your knees.

Hotch is still in his suit when he opens the door, but his tie is loose and his jacket is wrinkled.

“(Y/N). Wh-what are you doing here?” He asks, looking more confused than anything else.

“What are you doing here? You said you wouldn’t be back for hours. What am I supposed to think when you drive by me in your car when you’re meant to be four states over?”

Hotch still hasn’t opened the door enough for you to see inside, which all but confirms your worst fears.

“(Y/N), I can explain what-”

“Hotch,” You can’t call him Aaron right now, “Just tell me. Is there someone else?” You say, voice breaking. Aaron’s face can’t hide his emotions. His eyebrows furrow and he tilts his head up at you in that condescending way you hate.

“(Y/N). No. Why would you think that?” He says, but his voice isn’t reassuring. If anything, it’s angry.

“Can you blame me for feeling a little insecure, Hotch? You’ve been home three days out of the last two weeks. You don’t want me watching Jack in your apartment all of a sudden. You lie about whether or not you’re home? Is this the first time you came home without telling me, or is this something you’ve been doing. Do you laugh when I believe you?” You’re lashing out and you know it, but you can’t help the way your voice rises as you let out all of your pent-up feelings.

Hotch is silent, staring intently at your face. You know his profiling look, and this isn’t it. This is his boyfriend look. He’s concerned, but guarded, analyzing his best move. The amazing thing about Hotch, the thing you love about Hotch, is that he’s always determining the best move that will make you happy.

After a moment of tense quiet, he sighs in resignation and opens the door all the way.

His apartment is a mess. Clothes everywhere, dishes stacked in and around his sink, overflowing trash bags strewn about.

“Oh,” you say, tilting your head and willing yourself not to pass judgment, “hmm.”

Hotch looks sheepish.

“I, I’ve been having a tough couple of weeks. That’s why I lied about when I was getting back. I wanted some time to clean.” He says.

“You could’ve just told me.” You point out, and he nods.

“I know, I know, and I should have. I don’t know what I’m so afraid of. It’s just the thought of you thinking of me as weak…” He trails off, and your anger dissipates. 

“Aaron, baby,” You say, taking his face in your hands, “I love you. I know who you are. You’re the strongest man I know. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t come to me for help. I would do anything for you.” You whisper your last statement, and yet it still carries the most force. Hotch leans into your touch.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I love you,” He pauses, at a loss for words, “I love you.”

You huff out a laugh.

“You already said that.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

You hug him, and he melts into your arms. 

“I could’ve watched Jack at my place, you know. It doesn’t bother me at all.” You say, leading him over to the couch (and clearing off some clothes as you do so.). He rests his head in your lap.

“I didn’t want to ask that of you. You work a full-time job, and I know you didn’t sign up for being his babysitter-”

“Hey. No. When I started seeing you Jack became just as important part of my life as you are. I would drop everything for both of you.”

You notice Hotch’s eyes are getting red, and you stroke your hand through his hair.

“I adore you, (Y/N). You are absolutely amazing. And sometimes the thought of you leaving is so scary that I shut down.” He says.

“I get it. I just want you to know I’m all in.”

“I know you are. I am too.”

Both of you just sit there for a moment, basking in one another’s company.

“Speaking of scared,” you begin to say, and Hotch sits up to look at you, “I’m sorry I accused you of… you know, cheating.” You’re ashamed. 

“I’m not mad. I’m sorry I was rude to you. I don’t blame you for not trusting me with how I’ve been acting lately.” He says, and you sigh in relief.

“Thank you. I’ve just had bad experiences, so it’s hard sometimes to not get worried.”

“Bad experiences? What do you mean?” Hotch asks, protective mode activated. 

“My last three boyfriends all cheated on me.” You say quietly. Hotch stands up and paces back and forth past the coffee table a few times.

“Aaron?” You ask carefully. He stops when he hears your voice and the tenseness of his shoulders seems to melt away.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, returning to the couch, “how could anyone do that to you?” He asks, taking your hands in his. You don’t know how to respond, so he kisses your forehead.

“Listen to me,” he murmurs, “I would never, ever, in a million years do anything to hurt you like that. Never. You are my world.” He says. You nod, fighting back tears.

“I love you so much.” You say because it’s never enough.

“I love you more.” He responds. You shake your head. Impossible.

“Get up, then.” You say, hopping off the couch.

“Why?” He asks but gets up anyway.

“We’re cleaning. Both of us. And then we’re picking Jack up. Both of us. And then we’re making dinner. Both of us. Got it?”

Hotch smiles and picks up a trash bag.

“Got it.”

[wondershawns]

i would love 6 with dad shawn and him and y/n have just had a second child(baby boy)so there oldest child feels left out and ignores them and shawns parents notice and them lets in which they then speak to her/him and at the end shawn you forget somethings and it a goodnight kiss at the end bc SHAWN WILL THE BEST DAD🥺😭

A/N: Took me a little while but there it is! The prompt was “You forgot something,” Hope you like it! I didn’t do exactly what you requested, mostly because it’s late and I didn’t read your request right before I started writing, sorry.

Word count: 723

.

Allie felt left out. She was five years old and her baby brother wasn’t even one yet. She had been happy to find out she was going to be an older sister, proud even. Her parents were happy, but as time went she realised he was stealing all of the attention from her.

Shawn could tell something was off with his daughter. Allie was a daddy’s girl, she loved you a lot but she was always glued to Shawn, imitating everything he did. You were exhausted from the pregnancy and the fact that Tom wasn’t sleeping through the night just yet. You were happy, but you needed life to be a little quieter than it used to be, which meant Allie didn’t get to travel every weekend like she used to with you and Shawn because he always had interviews and events to get to.

Now, Shawn was on an even more intense break, he only went to the studio when Allie was at school. He took care of the baby when he was home so that you could take time to yourself to shower or nap, and to Allie it meant she could never be alone with her dad.

She had been grumpy all night that Friday, shaking her head all the time and refusing to say a word. You exchanged a look with Shawn at the dinner table, deciding that it was time to have a talk with her to understand what was going on.

Surprisingly, Allie was in her bed before you were done putting your youngest in his crib.

“Sweetheart,” Shawn cooed when he walked into her room, finding her with her back to him. “Do you want a bedtime story?”

“No,” Her little voice came muffled from her pillow.

“Hey Allie,” You sat on the bed and touched her shoulder. “You can’t go to bed if you’re sad. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

“Do you love Tom more than me?” She turned to look at you with a pout, the covers held up to her chin.

“Of course not darling,” Shawn smoothed her hair back. “We love you both very much. Tom needs a lot of attention because he’s a very young baby, he can’t do anyting on his own,”

“Mommy and daddy need to feed him, change his diapers, and watch him a lot. You’re a big girl, you know how to eat, you can use the toilet. We don’t love Tommy more than we love you. We still go to the park together and play all the time, don’t we?” You reminded her of all the hours you spent with her too.

You had been very careful to include her in everything and spend plenty of quality time with her once Tom was born. It was to avoid this exact situation.

“Okay,” She nodded, but she still looked unsure.

“Tom loves you a lot too, you know?” Shawn added. “When he’s old enough to speak I’m sure he’ll tell you that all the time, because you’re the best big sister ever,”

“I am?”

“Of course you are,” He chuckled.

“Can I have a goodnight kiss?” She asked with big eyes, knowing it was her bedtime and she couldn’t hold off going to sleep forever.

“You can have more than one,” You bent over and kissed both of her cheeks loudly. Her giggle erupted through the room, making Shawn’s grin grow.

“Goodnight honey,” He gave her forehead a kiss, murmuring an ‘I love you’ before he straightened up.

“You forgot something.” Her pout returned to her face and Shawn frowned.

“What did I forget?”

“You didn’t give Mr Snuggles his goodnight kiss,” She held the teddy bear up over the covers, and you both gave it a kiss.

“There you go,” You adjusted the covers on her bed and turned on the small butterfly light that would stop her room from going completely dark once you left.

“Alright,” Shawn got up with you, standing in the doorway with his hand on the light switch. “Goodnight Mr Snuggles, sweet dreams Allie,”

“Night,” The little girl yawned in response, rubbing her hands over her sleepy eyes as soon as Shawn turned the light off.

She fell asleep peaceful and reassured. Maybe Tom took some attention away from her, but nothing could take her parents’ love away.

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Snake Skin

A/n: This took me FOREVER to write, and yes, there will be a sequel to Jimin and Y/n’s story! This is a commission for @kpopnoobsstuff​ who was also my very first Patron! Thank you, baby! This is of course in the Villainous Universe so also tagging @k0modob1ue​ because she’s been keeping up with the verse!

Summary: It’s different with you, you’d met Jimin in his real face and he doesn’t feel like he needs to shift, exists in his natural state, or at least what he thinks is his natural state. He’d started shifting so young that he couldn’t even be sure.Everything’s fine. Everything’s perfect, until it’s not.

Warnings: big angst, a hint of smut, some murder bc my villain boys have been through a lot, a bit of female!Jimin x reader bc shapeshifting hijinx, some violence bc you shouldn’t fuck with the Snake of Busan’s girl

Word Count: 4617

Jimin is usually good at knowing when he's being watched. It's something he'd had to get used to, given his powers, given that he'd grown up in various foster homes where anyone would pickpocket you given the chance.

You take him by surprise, though. He sees you the first time when he's ordering chicken and beer for the boys. You're wearing a hoodie but he can see your bright eyes peeking at him from around the corner.

When he smiles at you, you disappear, running off into the night. He doesn't think much of it until he sees you twice more over the course of a week, hanging around the same spots, and finally, he huffs out a breath and walks over to you.

You seem to disappear into your hoodie and he sits down next to you at the table.

"Are you following me?"

You make a little squeak in the back of your throat and peer up at him from your hoodie.

It's cute. You're cute, and he smiles at you to disarm you. He stays wary, though, he knows what had happened to Taehyung and he doesn't ever want to take that risk.

"Did someone send you to follow me?" He asks, voice lower, and you shake your head frantically.

"N-no! No, I just...I just think you're nice."

Jimin can't help but chuckle a little at how your cheeks flush. "Nice?"

"You... you're handsome," you say in a cracked whisper.

Jimin can't help but smile at how you shrink into your hoodie, embarrassed. "You're pretty cute yourself. I'm Jimin. What's your name, cutie?"

You look up at him with those wide eyes and later he thinks he was lost right then and there.

Jimin has never had a girlfriend, not really, at least not one that he wasn't using for money or sex or to survive, and he's not sure that's what you are, either.

After your initial shyness, you'd warmed right up, even making the first move on your third date, placing his hand on the swell of your breast when he kissed you goodnight.

"Angel," he calls you, murmurs in it into your skin, hoping you feel it there like a brand. "Angel doll."

He had a foster sister who used to call him that, used to say he looked like a little angel, but it fits you better, the way you almost glow when he runs his hands down your body.

It's different with you, you'd met him in his real face and he doesn't feel like he needs to shift, exists in his natural state, or at least what he thinks is his natural state. He'd started shifting so young that he couldn't even be sure.

Everything's fine. Everything's perfect, until it's not.

He brings you gifts, jewelry, anything you want.

When he lifts a Tiffany bracelet for you, you raise an eyebrow.

"Jiminie...what do you do, anyway?"

He shrugs, grabs you from behind, nuzzles into your neck. "This and that."

You let it go, and he's grateful, because he's spent his whole life lying and he doesn't want to lie to you.

Not telling you isn't lying, at least that's what he tells himself. You don't see him as an orphan, or a street kid, a thug...a freak. He's just a guy, and you're his girl, and he'd do anything to keep it that way.

Yoongi doesn't ask questions, even when Jimin so more nights at your apartment than at home. Jimin does his job, and more, and sure things get a little dicey, especially with the extras he's lifting for you, but what's a couple of broken ribs and bullet grazes when it makes you smile like that at him?

But he's stupid and he lets one of them get infected and he wakes up burning with a fever and with his shirt stained red and you notice and shit, he can't take this look on your face, your lips tight, brow furrowed with worry.

Jimin ends up calling Hoseok and he drags him back home and Jimin's too weak and sick to stop you from following.

Next thing he knows he's curled up in bed and he's sick and he can't stop crying because it's over now. It's done, now you know what he is, a criminal, a loser, and he'll never see you again and that hurts so much worse than his shoulder.

He thinks he's dreaming when he feels your hand on his face.

"Y/n?"

"Why didn't you tell me? You got hurt getting me these stupid gifts, Jimin-"

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, and he's still not quite sure it's real between the fever and whatever Hoseok had given him for the pain. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't want them," you're trying to tear off your tennis bracelet and he puts his hand over yours.

"Don't. Don't leave me, yeah?" He can barely move but he struggles to get up and you climb onto the bed, kissing him over and over and he can't do anything but whimper into your mouth.

"Never. Never, Jimin. I don't care what you do. I don't care. I just don't ever want you hurt like this again."

He knows he's dreaming now, knows this can't be real but he wants it to be so badly that he holds you as tight as he can, gritting his teeth against the pull in his shoulder.

When you're at there when he wakes up he's crying all over again and kissing you everywhere he can reach, making you giggle, and it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.

You still don't know about his powers, though, he can't bring himself to tell you that, can't stand to think of how you might look at him.

"Will you be careful?" You ask him, when he's just about better, restless and bored.

"Aw, angel. I'm always careful."

"Jimin." You give him a look, and he scoffs, rubs at the back of his neck.

"It doesn't matter," he mumbles.

"Of course it matters," you cry, and your voice is so fierce, your eyes so wet and he pulls you close, murmurs comforts, because he doesn't know how to make you understand.

His life has never meant much to him, but the brothers, these boys who took him in, put up with how wary and scared he'd been, taught him how to live with who he was...theirs did. Jimin came from nothing, abandoned by a dumpster when he was hours old, a freak, an orphan, but you ...you were something bright and special and when it all falls apart, it's his fault, just like everything else.

You’re tracing his tattoo with the tip of your finger in bed when you ask him. Jimin loved the way you touched that tattoo, the snake wrapped around his ribs, the head ending up right at his hip bone. It made him feel like you knew him, somehow, and he wasn’t sure why.

Jimin had loved the idea of himself as a snake, someone stealthy and sly that could shed his skin every so often and grow new ones, become someone else. It helped that that’s what Shin and his people called him, it made him smile because they didn’t know his name or his face, just called him Yoongi’s snake, and it pleased him.

When he’d mentioned the idea of a tattoo to Yoongi, knowing that he’d given Taehyung his, a simple sun on his collarbone, Yoongi had been happy to oblige.

It’d taken days to do, and Jimin wondered if it was something about Yoongi’s mental powers that made the tattoo stay when he shifted, but he knows it’s probably him.

There’s something about having something uniquely his, something that can ground him, remind him he isn’t just a pile of nerves and flesh that can be sculpted into whatever he wants.

You trace it all the way down to his hip, but when he gasps, you stop, kiss him on the tip of his chin.

“Do you have powers like your friends do?” You ask, almost in a mumble, tired.

Jimin stiffens. “Ah, no, I’m nothing special.”

Your mouth ticks up at one corner. “You’re special to me.” 

You kiss the tip of his nose and Jimin suddenly feels miserable, hates lying to you, but he’d seen your reaction when you’d seen Seokjin snapping his fingers, calling flames from his thumb. You’d been shocked, afraid.

Jimin kisses you and kisses you, sliding inside you to quiet the voices in his head.

It’s almost half a year before everything falls apart, just like he’d known it would, just like everything did.

It’s Jungkook who comes to him, nervous, wringing his hands.

Jimin looks up his phone and his breath catches in his throat. He knows, instantly, knows it’s about you, and he leaps to his feet.

“Where is she?”

“She’s okay, she’s just a little shaken up-”

“Where is she?” Jimin repeats, and Jungkook swallows. 

“She’s in Hoseok’s room. He’s patching her up.”

Panic climbs in his throat, making his skin heat, and he’s pounding on Hoseok’s door in moments, Jungkook trailing behind him.

Hoseok comes to the door with blood on his shirt and Jimin feels like he might faint.

“She’s okay,” Hoseok says, adjusting his sunglasses with one hand. 

Jimin bursts past him, sees you sitting up on the bed with a cut on your cheek, your nose swollen and bleeding.

“Angel,” he whispers, his hand shaking as he strokes your unmarked cheek.

“I didn’t let them take me,” you choke out.

Tears roll down Jimin’s cheek as he perches on the bed beside you, takes your hands in his. 

“They caught her coming out of here this morning,” Hoseok says softy. “Seokjin was coming back from getting breakfast and stopped it.”

“Did he burn them alive?” Jimin asks, voice rough, eyes flashing as he looks up at Hoseok.

“Jimin.” You squeeze his hand. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Jimin’s heart sinks when he realizes what has to happen, how to make you safe, and he wonders why he ever had any hope at all.

He figures out who did it, that it was the banshee girl. Areum, who’d lured you in, but that it’d been Dohyun who’d hit you when you tried to leave, who’d stretched his arm out several feet to wrap you back up, given you the bruises all over your upper arms.

It takes days to find out, takes him shifting into a moderately attractive blonde and flirting with Areum and he can’t bring himself to hurt her, not when she gives him a scared look when he mentions Dohyun, asks about him. Shin was manipulating her the same way he had Namjoon, and that was clear.

She’s his way in, though, takes him to the dorm, and he’s coy when she tries to kiss him, plies her with alcohol in her room until she falls asleep.

It’s easy, then, to shift into a slight, tomboyish girl, leave his lips full and his eyes bright, and Dohyun is putty in his hands.

Dohyun’s all smiles when Jimin wraps his thighs around his neck, grabbing at his ass until Jimin squeezes and squeezes. His strength doesn’t change when he shifts, and he isn’t afraid to get up close and personal.

Besides, there’s a certain thrill in how Dohyun’s eyes widen, how he realizes something’s happening, his air shutting off.

“Who...who are you?”

Jimin leans down, almost doubles over but it’s easier in this small frame, to hiss in his ear. “Maybe you’ve heard of me. They call me the Snake.”

Dohyun can’t make words at this point, Jimin’s thighs crushing his larynx, but Jimin sees the fear in his eyes, squeezes harder.

“Have you ever killed a man, Dohyun?”

Dohyun wheezes and Jimin takes it as a no.

Dohyun just claws at Jimin’s thighs but Jimin barely feels it, adrenaline pumping through him, rage fueling him as he thinks of your swollen nose, the big bruises on your arms.

“I have. I won’t hesitate to do it again. You know why they call me the Snake?”

“Please-” Dohyun chokes out, and Jimin puts his hand over his nose and mouth, squeezing tight, hoping he breaks his nose.

He lets go and loosens his thighs just long enough for Dohyun to draw in a ragged, short breath, wants him to hear him.

“You touch Y/n again, you'll find out.. You’ll never see me coming.”

He doesn’t kill him, but it’s a near thing, later Jimin thinks about how Dohyun’s eyes had bulged, his lips turning purple, and he doesn’t feel remorse, tracing the snake tattoo with his fingers. He thinks maybe that should worry him, but it doesn’t. He wasn’t sorry when he’d jammed a pen into his foster father’s jugular, when the blood soaked the pretty dress he was wearing, all dolled up as his late daughter.

Everyone had a breaking point, and Jimin guessed that was his. He’d sworn to never let anyone touch him like that again, and he’d be damned if he let it happen to you.

He’s wary for the next few weeks, but there’s no retaliation. He shouldn’t be surprised, Shin doesn’t give a fuck what happens to his people, as long as it doesn’t affect his income or his reputation. 

Surely Yoongi hears about it, hears whisperings about the Snake, but he doesn’t say a word.

He keeps you close while you heal, as the bruises around your nose purple and then fade. He waits, tells himself he's just waiting for the right moment, but he knows he's just putting it off. He has to think about it sideways, what he has to do, because it seems too big, too awful.

Jimin has spent his life being someone else, anyone else, and he'd been himself with you, or at least as close as he knew how to be.

Losing you, pushing you away was the hardest thing he'd ever done. It was made all the worse by how he did it gradually, stopped responding to your texts, acted disinterested on dates.

You show up at the dorm, finally, hair wet from the rain, eyeliner smudged, near tears, and Jimin's heart cracks through at the sight of you.

You say his name and your voice cracks and Jimin can’t look at you.

“Can I come in?”

Instead of letting you in, he walks outside to stand against the door, his back to it. He makes himself look at you, right in your eyes.

“What’s happening, Jimin? Are you….are you tired of me?”

He shrugs, looks away again because he can’t lie right to your face.

“Dunno.”

Your chest is heaving, your face wrecked when he glances back at you, and his chest aches.

“Jimin. Look at me.”

He clenches his jaw, looks away.

“So this is it? After everything?”

He shrugs again, tears pricking at the backs of his eyes. “Guess so.”

Jimin can’t stand to hear the tears in your voice, the way you choke out a sob, so he goes inside, shuts the door against your protests, locks himself in his room when Jungkook asks what’s wrong.

It didn’t feel like an ending, so sudden, such few words exchanged, but he couldn’t tell you why, couldn’t let you know what he was, what he’d done.

He’d nearly killed a man because of a few bruises, and he can’t imagine what he’d do if something happened to you, if you were hurt or killed because of him…

Jimin isn’t sure why he goes back to the street where you’d met, where he knew your apartment was, in a different face, the same slim girl he’d been when he’d confronted Dohyun.

He only watches, wearing a beanie and a mask, not that he had to worry about being recognized. You go to get chicken and soju from the restaurant you’d always frequented, always takeout, with your shoulders slumped.

For weeks you look tired and sad, and he wants so badly to go to you, tell you everything, but he keeps seeing the shock on your face when you’d seen Seokjin’s flames, the way your eyes had widened, mouth parted.

He tells himself he’s watching in case Dohyun is stupid enough to make a move and not because he misses your eyes and the way you linked your hands together while you were idle, how your chin tilted up when you smiled.

The day Jimin talks to you, he hadn’t planned on it.

You looked happier, healthier, your cheeks a little fuller. You were even with a friend, and Jimin told himself not to panic when you put your hand on the guy’s arm, laughed a little too hard at a joke he made. 

There’s a lump in his throat, and Jimin pulls the beanie down to almost cover his eyes, slumped at a table in the corner as you order double your usual order.

The slow realization that this is probably a date makes something crack in his chest and Jimin casts his eyes down, breathing hard, his chest feeling tight.

He tells himself he bumps into you on accident, drops his Americano.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry, are you all right?” You put your hand on his arm, and his breath catches in his throat.

He’s afraid for a moment, when you look into his eyes, but there’s no spark of recognition.

Part of him is disappointed.

“Fine,” he mumbles, jealousy keeping his words short as your new friend wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“I’ll buy you a new drink,” the guy offers, and Jimin can’t help but scowl.

“I can buy it myself,” He snaps, and you smile at him and he goes a little weak in the knees.

You insist on buying it, and as he stands at the counter he feels uncharacteristically nervous, watches as you link your delicate fingers together, the scent of roses you always wore heavy in the air.

He finds himself swaying toward you, and when he bumps your arm you don’t pull away, just smile.

“What’s your name?”

He blurts out the first name he can think of, his foster sister, the one who’d called him angel.

“Yunhee.” You stick out your hand and he takes it, loves how soft your skin is, how firm you shake his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Yunhee. I’m Y/n.”

That’s how it starts, and when it all ends Jimin knows it was stupid, this whole plan, staying close to you, how he’d just end up hurting you more.

After that day Jimin tells himself he won't keep looking for you, but it's barely two days later when he ends up back in the restaurant, and of course you come right up to him.

"Yeonhee?" You call, and Jimin can't help but smile.

You offer to buy lunch and he can't turn down a chance to be close to you, see your bright eyes and your smile again.

It's easy enough, to get close to you again, especially in this form, but Jimin hadn't thought it through, appearing to you as a female friend.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" You ask one day while you two are sipping boba.

Jimin chokes a bit on his tea.

"Ah...no, I don't." He takes a beat, looking down at the table, before he asks softly. "Do you?"

"Not really," you say easily, but that isn't exactly no and Jimin feels like bees are buzzing beneath his skin.

He clears his throat. "What about that big guy you were with?"

"Huh? Oh, Mingyu. We've been out a couple times. He's cute, right?"

"He's okay," Jimin mumbles, resting his chin on the table, suddenly miserable.

“He’s so tall,” you say dreamily, and Jimin slumps down further in his seat, if possible.

“Not my type,” he mumbles.

You cock your head at him, and Jimin sits up straighter. 

“What is it?”

“Yunhee, do you have a girlfriend?”

Jimin almost chokes on his tea again, but recovers more quickly this time.

“Not...not right now. I used to.”

“Bad breakup?” 

You reach over, take his hands in his and it feels like coming home and makes a lump grow in his throat.

Tears prick at the backs of his eyes and he doesn’t stop them, can’t bring himself to yank his hands out of yours to wipe at his face.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I had a bad breakup recently too.” You squeeze his hands and he has regrets about all of this,  suddenly everything’s worse, suddenly everything’s too much and he’s dropping his head onto your hands and crying harder, with you murmuring comforts.

“Did she hurt you a lot?” You ask softly when he’s calmed down, sniffling like a child.

He shakes his head. “She would have never hurt me. I just...I wasn’t good enough for her.” 

You frown. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

Jimin gives you a weak smile. “Let’s not talk about it. We should talk about something more fun.”

“Why don’t we go out tonight? Take our minds off our exes?”

Half of him wants to decline, but your hands are so soft on his and you look so determined and he finds himself going to buy a stupid dress at the thrift store later that afternoon.

Yoongi gives him a look when he brings it in but when Jimin gives him a withering stare he just shrugs.

At least he has experience with this, having shifted into a female form for months at a time in the past.

The dress fits well, the form he’d chosen is slight but still pretty, keeping a full mouth, a dark bob haircut. He’s weirdly nervous, and he’s never been nervous about his appearance before and he doesn’t know why it matters anyway, it isn’t as if you’ll be looking at him like that, at least not anymore.

Jimin manages to sneak out of the dorm without any of the guys guys seeing and he sees you waiting outside the club in a royal blue dress that takes his breath.

"Yeonhee! You look so pretty!" You gush, link your arm through his, and for a few hours at least, it's almost like old times.

He's tipsy and you're laughing and dancing with him, comfortable, and everything's fine until he loses sight of you for a few moments, sees you dancing with some guy, arms wrapped around his neck.

It's been such a rollercoaster, being friends with you like this, there's happiness but longing, the desire for you to move on but the most bitter jealousy when it looks like you might.

Tonight he's too drunk and lovesick to watch, slips outside, breathing hard. It's only a few minutes before you find him, and your hand on his arm makes tears stand in his eyes.

"Yeonhee... what's wrong?"

"I like you," Jimin blurts, head fuzzy from soju. He looks down at you, the heels he'd chosen making the slight frame he'd chosen a couple of inches taller than you. "I know you don't-"

"Yeah?" You say softly, voice low and husky, and plant a kiss at the corner of his mouth, striking him silent.

He hadn't known you were bisexual but he can't say he isn't grateful, wants you anyway he can have you.

It's different, kissing you in this form, his mouth smaller, but still so familiar it makes his chest ache.

It's all a blur until he has you naked and panting on your bed while he's still fully dressed, licking his lips as he looks down at you.

It’s strange, doing this in this body, and God knows it wasn’t the first time but it’s the first that he’s chosen, first that he’s actually enjoyed, and when you tug up his dress he stops your hands, does it himself. You make this sound in the back of your throat, eyes roving over him, but he pushes you back down onto the bed gently.

"So pretty," he murmurs, running a hand up your inner thigh. "Like an angel. Angel doll."

Your breath catches in your throat but he's too busy pressing his face into your cunt, darting his tongue out to taste you.

You're whining and trembling and you taste so familiar that it hurts. He lifts his head when he slides two slender fingers inside you and that's when you say it, low and broken.

"Jimin?"

He freezes, then plants a soft kiss on your inner thigh, as if he didn’t hear you.

“It’s you. I know it,” you insist, scrambling up on the bed.

“Y/n, what are you talking about-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” you say fiercely, chin jutted out, not bothering to cover your breasts. You lean forward to run your thumb over the snake tattoo on his hip and he curses himself.

“Y/n-”

“You think I’m stupid? You think I didn’t notice how sometimes your eyes would change color when we made love, or how all the papers talked about the Snake that can shift into anyone he wants and you have this stupid fucking tattoo?” You almost spit the words, your cheeks flushed from alcohol and rage.

Jimin sighs, lets the facade drop, shifts back to himself in a shimmer and you swallow hard.

“I’ll go,” he chokes out, realizes he’ll have to leave in a goddamn dress when he starts to slide off the bed but you grab onto his forearm, tight.

“Why did you lie to me?” Your lip is trembling when he looks back at you and he wants to look away but he can’t, trapped like a fish on a hook by your touch. “Why did you leave me?”

Your voice cracks and he can’t stand it, reaches out to caress your cheek.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let anyone hurt you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you what I was...that I'm this…'

"I don't care! I don't care what you are, I don't care about being safe, I love you, Jimin. I just want you."

"Not now," he says miserably. "I've lied to you for weeks I just...I couldn't stand being away from you and then I couldn't stand seeing you with someone else and…. I've ruined everything."

He wants to hide his face in his hands but you put a hand on his cheek, kiss his mouth gently.

“You almost did,” you agree. “You almost fucked it all up, and you better not ever hurt me again, Park Jimin.”

He looks at you in awe, can’t believe you’d be willing to give him another chance. “But...angel...you might get hurt again. You might-” You shake your head, cover his mouth with your hand.

“I can take care of myself, and if I can’t, I trust you to protect me.” You smile a little. “They don’t call you the Snake of Busan for nothing, right?”

“I’ll kill anyone who ever hurts you again,” he says, earnestly, and he’s almost ashamed, but you don’t lose your smile, just climb into his lap, kiss him again, and his head is spinning with how much hope is rising in his chest.

You play with the hair at the nape of his neck, kiss him over and over, before pulling away and smiling down at him. “You know, this power of yours could make our sex life very interesting….you could be any celebrity I want?”

Jimin growls at you playfully, nips at your bottom lip, and your laugh sounds like heaven.

You move into the dorm a couple of weeks later, and things are easier for a while, he gains your trust, tells you almost all his secrets.

When things blow up again, it’s his fault, just like it always is.

[smellysluna]

The one where Luka is a clown | Fictober19 #1

Prompt number: 「 one 」“It will be fun, trust me.”

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing: Luka Couffaine & [YOU]

Rating: T (Teens And Up)

Warnings/Tags: none

Summary: you’ve always had a crush on him bcs he simply was your type but nothing really happened unitl You & Luka get set up as project mates

Side note: I know that it’s the twelth of october but i just started it, i’ll write some more for fictober but i’ll use the prompts as i see fit bcs i’m just like that so yeah. anyways i hope this makes some kind of sense, its been a long time since i finished something i began writing. okay so i also wanted to write luka because there’s not many fics with him with an “x reader” tag. okay talk over, enjoy the story babes!!!!

"Hey."

I turned around in my seat and smiled. "Hi, Luka."

"So... how'd you wanna do this?"

I cocked an eyebrow. "Do what?" Luka shared an amused smile. "Oh!" I face-palm. "The project! Right." I picked up the notebook with my notes from my desk and slammed it on his desk. Then I rotated it in his direction. "This is how we're going to do it."

"Wow, you've really thought this through already."

I rest my face on my hand and smirk. "It's no coincidence that I ace my presentations."

"I guess I'm lucky then."

"More than you think." I straighten my back. "Okay, no funny business tho. You fuck up and I'll make you suffer all the way to June. Take a picture of them notes so you have a copy and have a slight idea of what's going on."

He puts up a half-amused smile, "this ain't my first rodeo."

"But it's your first bullfight, so keep up." He laughed and I bit my lip. I might've gone overboard. 

"I'll do my best," he assured in a soft voice. Holy shit. He's so mellow. As soon as I was sure he had a picture of my notes, I took his phone. I entered into his contacts and added my number then dialed myself. 

I show him the screen of my phone. "Now we have each other's numbers." He smiled before I turned around just in time for the teacher to get in. 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

I was watching dessert recipes on YouTube when I received a message from Luka. The popup appeared from an Unknown number which reminded me that I forgot to add him to my contacts.

"hey"

     "hi"

    "what's up?"

"i went through ur notes"

    "yeah?"

    "they're amazing, aren't they"

"u made those in class"

"how???"

"they're too good"

You sent an image:

Unknown sent an image:

"anyhow"

"i wanted to know when you want to get the project finished"

"i thought that you'd want to finish it asap"

"u look like you have a busy schedule"

    "i'm free whenever, really"

    "but i don't want to finish it in one go"

    "so we'll spend a couple of days on it"

    "if u dont mind that is"

    "btw you give me too much credit"

"right"

"it's fine, yeah"

"more time to clown around"

Unknown sent an image:

    "> AUDIO (laughter)"

    "IM DYING"

    "WHY IS THIS SO FUNNY"

"i took clown courses in my childhood"

    "where's the diploma huh?"

"wait, lemme look"

"wait"

    "ur serious???"

"photo(clown certificate)"

    "I CAN'T BREATHE"

"clown code: never joke about being a clown"

    "AND HERE I WAS"

    "THINKING YOU WERE THE COOLEST GUY AT SCHOOL"

    "BUT ALL THIS TIME YOU WERE JUST A CLOWN"

    "I WAS SO FOOLISH"

    "ur now officially added to my contacts as clown boy 🤡"

"coolest guy huh? ;)"

    "don't let it get to your head, clown boy"

    "as much as i'd love to know about your clown career, i have to go make dinner"

    "we'll talk more about it at school"

    "don't vanish on me"

    "i'll snap my fingers into Thanos' ass if i have to"

"right 😂"

At dinner, I couldn't stop thinking about Luka. We might've never talked much to each other but I always had the hots for him. He was just my type: tall, supposedly long hair for a boy, dyed hair, punk-like feel and especially (these just get me going) those black gauges in his ears. Anyways, I'd lie if I said I never got distracted in class because of the smell of his cologne.

"Thank you for dinner, [Y/N]," said my mom after she cleaned the table.

"Don't forget to do the dishes, love."

"Yes, Dad," I chuckled.

"We're off to bed, then. Goodnight, [Y/N]."

"Goodnight, mum. Goodnight, dad."

That night, I fell asleep thinking about how nice that chat conversation with Luka was.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

I groaned loudly when I got into class. I ran because I was late for geography. When I got to class, the lack of a teacher at the desk made me want to kill myself. My classmates were scattered around the classroom in groups, as usual when a teacher was absent. Done with life, I walk to my desk, drop my backpack and accommodate my face on the desk. Suddenly, somebody is standing next to me. But I really just wanted some sleep so my first intention was to ignore whomever until well, it's self-explanatory.

"Looks like someone spent all night thinking about me."

"What!?" I see Luka. Now fully energized and heart pumping, I stutter: "No, no. What are you even saying?"

He laughs and takes a seat on the vacant spot in front of me. He rests his arms on my desk. "I'm just messing with you, wanted to see the reaction I'd get out of you. I wasn't expecting to fully wake you up." He smiles broadly and I stare into his eyes.

Have you ever met that person, no matter who they are, their eyes are so enthralling that you just can't help but keep staring at them? These kinds of eyes just have something... Something I'm unable to describe. And when I stare at them, they're so glossy and shiny.

"I think you'd look amazing if you wore eyeliner."

"Huh?" Half of his face moves upwards in sync. "That's very random."

"I mean, yeah." I look away, fidget with my bracelet and then look back. "I just thought it'd bring your eyes out even more."

"Ooh," he exhales knowingly. "Because they're blue, right?"

I knit my eyebrows together. "No," I say offended. Had this boy never realized how nice his eyes are?

"Why then?" He asks and nods his head onto his arms.

"Well," I lick my lips, "I don't know." I shrug "It's not because of the color, which is beautiful just so you know." I caress my arm and try very hard to maintain eye contact, occasionally looking away. "Your eyes, I don't know, they just have something."

He smiles at my words, "look who's talking."

"Not a clown, that's for sure." He groans in a boyish way and it melts my insides so warm I almost let it show.

"You won't let it go, won’t you?" He lays defeated on my desk, arms sprawled.

"You did that to yourself." He hummed in a way that seemed a mixture of displeasure and annoyance. His long hair was sprawled in every direction of my desk. I could tell that he washed his hair either last night or this morning —it smelled so nice. Luka smelled really nice and I couldn't help but bite my lip to restrain myself from sniffing him all over like I was some kind of dog-bred. I started playing with his hair and it was so much softer than I expected it to be, it was dyed after all. He let a pleasurable groan slip through.

"Does this bother you?"

Luka abruptly opened his eyes and forced my head to rest on the desk as well. With very soft caresses he ran his hand through my locks and I understood what it was that he intended.

"What about you?"

I stared into his eyes for a moment and closed them, then resumed playing with his hair as he did the same. We were so close, I could hear his silent breathes. I wondered if this could be considered as cuddling. Honestly? I didn't care because I was enjoying it.

"Hey, guys, look at [Y/N] and Luka."

"Woah, when did that happen."

"Never thought [Y/N] liked that type of guy."

"You're kidding, right? Luka's definitely her type."

We spent the rest of the hour like that. Somewhere in between, the rest of the class noticed us but, frankly, we paid them no mind. But it made me anxious. Not because of what they said but about what Luka might've thought about it.

"I kind of like this," he whimpers softly as if scared he'd break whatever we had going on.

I agree with him softly, just as scared to ruin the mood.

When the bell rang, we hesitantly broke apart. Luka returned to his assigned seat behind me and then class started. The moments the teacher repeated subjects the class already went through, Luka played with the ends of my hair.

After the school bell rang for the last time that day, Luka approached me. He asked if I wanted to start on the project today. Luka was so cute while he asked. He didn't do anything particularly cute but the way he looked when he leaned on the wall had sent me flying. Obviously, I said that it was a good idea. Not desperately, of course, even though I wanted to grab him and steal him away. I kept my cool.

"What time?"

He grimaced to hide a grin. "I was hoping, like, right now?"

"Uh, well... On any other particular month, I'd agree and take you to my house. But we're getting reformations done so it's a very big mess."

"We can go to my place." He states like it's a universal fact.

"But all my shit's at home, and I'd want to empty my backpack, grab some money, etcetera."

"Okay, I get it. I can take you home and we'll head right over to mine?"

Even though I might pass out any moment out of pure embarrassment, I cross my arms in an 'X' in front of his face.

"No way that's happening, clown boy."

"What? Why?" He frowns.

"No way in hell I'm letting you drive me on your motorbike."

A small laugh escapes his lips. "You've never been on a motorcycle?"

I act displeased.

Luka laughs with a hand on his stomach. "You haven't!" I scowl and his laughter subdues. He waves his hands in front of him and apologizes for laughing. "I'll be careful, just for you." He assures.

"Even if I agreed... I doubt you'd have a second helmet. And we all know that police officer which has an obsession for the law."

"I got us covered on that one, I have two."

I stare at him. "You had this all planned out, didn't you?"

"No," he grins, "it just happens to be that I usually pick my sister up from her school."

"Oh, so she's gonna have to walk all the way back to your house. We can't let her do that, can we?" No matter how much I crush on Luka, anything that can get me out of sitting on that devil's contraption, I'd go with.

"I said 'usually', didn't I?" I can feel his smirk soaking right through me but in a much more softer tone he said "it'll be fun," and smiles "trust me."

It was his goddamn smile that convinced me to agree.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"I never knew you could live in a boat."

I looked around the main deck and, for some reason, I felt very lightweight and free.

"You don't like it?"

"The contrary, I love it!" I smile at him, "it adds to your charm."

Luka smiles back, "thanks."

Both of us walked inside the boat. I took everything all at once. You rarely get the chance to be inside a boat-home. But the most surprising thing was that it was stable —at least more than I thought.

"My room's the one at the end. Get yourself comfy —I'll be right there."

I bite the inside of my cheek. "Okay."

Once I get into his room, I relax and take a look around. I leave my backpack by the door and head straight for the most valuable thing to me in his room. Luka had one of the nicest guitar stands available on which laid the most basic electric guitar ever... but since looks can deceive, I pick it up.

I make myself comfortable on his bed along with Luka's guitar and a guitar pick I snatched from the wall. Without thinking twice, I started to play. It didn't matter to me that I hadn't plugged the guitar into an amplifier, this particular tab didn't need the magic of electricity. I suppose I should have asked first if I could play but it's too late now-

"That's 'Lonely Day', right?"

"Ah! Shit! Sorry!" I stood up hastily, the guitar pick went flying to the floor and I placed the guitar back where it was supposed to be. I turn to him to apologize, "I should've asked-."

Luka walks past me, grabs the guitar by its fretboard and puts the strap around himself. He shuffles around me and I was too confused to realize what he was doing. Then he hands me the guitar fully-tuned-connected-to-an-amplifier guitar. He lifts it by the fretboard again and hands it over to me as if telling me to take it. I stare into his eyes and do exactly that.

At that moment, we didn't need any words as I accepted his silent offer. I strum dumbly and then start fidgeting with the knobs on his amplifier. I bite my lip, it doesn't have as many options as mine and it's smaller than the one I have at home but I managed to get the right sound.

I started playing a song that I had played countless times and felt very confident. This moment was about impressing Luka and I was determined to blow him away. But the moment I started playing, I couldn't keep up the cool-girl act and grinned as I played around the room.

"Wow," he said amazed after I finished. "I never knew you played guitar, let alone that well."

"I'm amazing, I know," I wink.

"What did you play?"

"You don't recognize it!?" I gasp loudly. I put my hands over my heart. "Oh, my heart! It hurts! I have never been so hurt before!"

He holds back an embarrassed smile. "Guilty as charged."

"It's Crowd Chant, by Satriani," an exaggerated sad smile adorns my lips.

"Oh, right! The guy from 'Surfing with the Alien'!"

"Yes, that one! I love him, he's my idol!"

"He's good."

"Good? He's a GOD." I pout at him. "Your idol is Jagged Stone, that's why you have so little appreciation for him."

"Right."

I playfully punch him. "Just kidding."

"I thought I was supposed to be the clown around here."

I laugh very loud at that. "Yes! I will - haha - leave - ha - the rest to you."

During the week we were making the project we had gotten really close and we kept hanging out at each other's houses even when the project was long ago finished. I met his very cool mum, and his sister, who is physically exactly like him but both of them don't seem to admit it. And he met my small family too.

"I keep telling you! You do look alike! Genetics is no joke."

"I agree with [Y/N]!" Juleka's friend said one day over dinner. I can't remember what her name was but I always thought there was more than 'friends' between her and Juleka.

"We do not look alike; you both must be very blind," Luka jokes and I pinch him very hard. "Ow! Stop!" He pinches back.

"No! Luka! That was payback for yesterday!" He stuck his tongue out at me and I growl. "You're very mean."

He shrugs, "whatever you say, [Y/N]."

"Oh, 'whatever I say' it is, is it?" I crossed my arms and pondered without breaking my staring contest with Luka. "So if I said you're ugly, you'd agree?"

He smirked, "sure." I felt how triumph tasted and literally a second later I tasted defeat. "But it won't affect the fact that my eyes have 'something'."

I became a blushing mess and everyone at the table stared at us.

"So..." Juleka started, unsure. "Does that mean that [Y/N] confessed first?"

Juleka's blonde friend nodded, "I knew it!"

"I'm happy for the both of you," Mrs. Couffaine cheered with a very sweet smile.

There was a problem with their cheers which made Luka and me quite uncomfortable. It was wrong. Nothing had happened between us.

"It's...! It's not like that!" I attempt to defend ourselves and turn to Luka. "That's not what that was, right, Luka?"

He was looking in the opposite direction, scratching his crimson red neck. "I mean..."

I hide my face in my hands. "Oh my God, I want to kill myself."

"You know what? We will leave you both to work out whatever misunderstanding there might be, okay?" And with no answer, all three of them left.

"Let's go outside." With no warning, Luka took me by the hand and guided me to the main deck. It was chilly outside and I shivered but kept it to myself. "Here." Luka handed me his jacket.

"Thanks," I smile and put it on. It still smells like his cologne.

"About what Juleka said..." He avoided my gaze by looking into the river. "I might've told her that I like you," he turns to me and takes my hands, "a lot." Luka squeezes my hands out of nervousness. "The way you and I understand each other, without any words, just the music is enough. I feel like we're connected through it like we are the power-chords to any rock song."

My heart was melting, I always knew deep down that Luka's a very sweet romantic and he was killing me with his cuteness. I never knew you could look cute and hot during a confession. "Luka, I-"

"Remember when we sang 'Anything better than you'?"

"Yeah."

I recalled the memory. At the end of the song, when the part that goes "I can sing anything sweeter than you" our lips were so close... I couldn't stop thinking about it before I fell asleep every night.

"I wanted to kiss you so badly, but I just couldn't do it." Luka pulled me in and we were as close as that other time, my heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears. "Until now."

Luka kissed me and I kissed back. We kissed each other so desperately and I ran my hand through his hair. Fuck, how I loved the softness of his hair. We break apart for a kiss and stare at each other's eyes, dumbfounded. We kiss again except this time it wasn't as desperate. It was softer, a kiss only Luka could make amazing. Luka had thin lips but made up for it with the way he kissed. I wanted to kiss him more, I wanted more from Luka so I kissed him harsher. Then he broke apart the kiss, clearly taken aback from it.

My heart stopped, "I... I'm sorry-!" He cut me off by kissing me harsher than I did and I loved every second of his harshness. I began feeling his neck, his back, his chest and pushed myself closer to him as every second that passed it became hotter.

We broke the make-out apart. Our flushed faces appreciated the cool night breeze. We keep wrapped around each other. "I think we should get back inside."

I listened to his pounding heart through his chest. "Not yet, clown boy."

"Whatever you say, love."

[moonhoures]

Hello! Super excited about your prompt list! Can you do AU: #4, Trope: #6 Dialogue: #7 & #32 with Kyun 🥰 I wasn’t sure if I could request 2 dialogues but if not feel free to choose ☺️ ps. I LOVE YOUR WRITING! And have a great day 💕💕

4. royalty!au + 6. established relationship + 7. “you took away my choice. that’s the only reason why i haven’t left.” + 32. “you need to promise me. i won’t believe you if you don’t.”

note: this is super angsty and kinda long bc we know how i am when i write for changkyun 🥺 but i hope you like it!

You weren’t meant to hear what you did. It’s funny how timing works like that. After all, if you hadn’t been walking in the hallway at the time you did, everything would have been different.

You wouldn’t have heard the voices of Changkyun and your father, the King, in the late hours of midnight. You wouldn’t have let your curiosity get the best of you, and you wouldn’t have tip-toed your way up to the door of your father’s office where you heard the two discussing.

“-what she said.”

“Then why haven’t you left yet?” you heard your father’s deep and intimidating voice, sounding extremely stern. You weren’t sure what they were talking about, but you could tell it was something serious.

“Because you told me that I could live here while I worked. You gave me the option to stay here as long as I got my work done, right?” Changkyun replied, equally as frustrated, it seemed. “You took away my choice. That’s the only reason why I haven’t left. If you want me to leave, then I will, but my feelings won’t go away. And I know she feels the same.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach when you realized they were speaking about you. But why were you suddenly the topic of discussion?

You were the fifth of seven children, and one of the four daughters in your royal family. Courting was a major part of your familial traditions, and you were excited for marriage at first, but everything changed when you met Changkyun.

He was contracted for gardening work in your mother’s courtyard after a terrible storm had ruined the landscape. The project was set to take a whole year to finish. It had only been four months when you and Changkyun began your secret affair, meeting in the middle of the night in secret rooms of the castle. Your love couldn’t be seen by anyone except the walls if the two of you wanted to keep your reputations clean. It seemed that wasn’t the case anymore, though.

“It doesn’t matter what she wants. She will be married to a prince. A man who is fit to take on princely duties for our country.”

“‘Princely duties’?” your lover scoffed, “Right. Well, I see my services are no longer appreciated here, so I’ll be leaving in the morning. I bid you good luck in finding another contractor to complete my work. Goodnight, Your Majesty.”

You didn’t hear your father utter another word which could only mean he was beyond angry. You, yourself, barely had a moment to process the door opening further and your lover meeting you face to face. Before he could even open his mouth to ask what you were doing in the hallway, you pressed a finger to his lips.

You gestured for him to keep quiet and follow you to your usual meeting spot, the library. Once locked inside of the room, you took a deep breath and turned to the man who was responsible for your confusion.

“You’re leaving?”

“I have to. Your father won’t let me stay here as long as we see each other.”

“How did he even find out about us?” you asked, sitting on the couch that just the other night had been a sacred place for you to consummate your love for each other. Now it seemed like it would be a place for you to come and let out your heartache.

“Donghyun hyung saw us sneaking in here the other night and cornered me as I was leaving. He went to the King this morning and told him everything.”

You could feel the tears already welling, but Changkyun knelt in front of you, reaching up and caressing your cheek.

“It’s going to be okay. You’ll forget all about me once you get engaged.”

You frowned, “No, I won’t. How could you say such a thing?”

He shrugged, “I guess I wanted to make you feel better.”

“I’ll never feel better if I won’t get to be with you,” you sighed, flattening your hands over the skirt of your thin nightgown. Nothing felt real anymore, “Can I come with you?”

“Pardon?”

“I’ll come with you. Wherever you go. I’ll be with you.”

“But you’re a princess,” he scoffed, unbelieving of what he was hearing, “You can’t just leave the royal family.”

“If it’s what I have to do to be with you, then I will. I love you too much to let you go.”

“You’re insane,” he smiles though, his heart swelling with more love than he imagined he could hold for someone.

“Only for you,” you chuckled, then looked at him seriously, “Will you come for me in the morning before you leave? I can pack a bag tonight.”

Changkyun gave it a moment of thought. There was so much that could go wrong. Worst case scenario, the King could go on a hunt for the both of you. He could be tried for kidnapping you. He could be arrested or even killed. He could be considered a criminal. Best case scenario, he lives the rest of his life with you, no matter how short it is.

“I will.”

“You need to promise me. I won’t believe you if you don’t.”

“I promise. As soon as the roosters crow, I’ll be at your door,” he wraps you in his arms with a tight grin that seems genuine at first. But as soon as your face is tucked into his neck, blessing the skin with your kisses, the smile melted away. It was replaced with a frown. Because he wouldn’t be at your door in the morning. He couldn’t. Not if he wanted to live to see dusk of the next day. Not if he wanted you to be safe. If he took you with him, he couldn’t guarantee the safety of either of you.

So he comforted himself in every ounce of love you gave him that night, knowing it would be the last time he would have you to himself. It was terrible for his heart, but some promises had to be broken.

[silly-robobabe-anon]

The Unwilling Bride, in gouache and ink

The Springtime, Pierre Auguste Cot (1873), seemed to be permanently framed in your periphery; pink limbs swung from the soft glow of sun and oil paint, a fair-haired maiden floating aloft mere silk, white and delicate in comparison to her lover’s deep burgundy robes. Tamara and the Demon, Konstantin Makovsky (1889); you wondered if Yuri thought he had wings when he held you like that, but more often you wondered if he knew the princess Tamara died at the lips of her lover.

All over his walls, down every hall in his house you had seen those paintings and postcards of couples. The women hung limp from the shoulders of the men; spoils from the hunt, subdued and to be consumed. There was something in the water this morning. It left your muscles soft as stuffing, eyes glassy, and lingered bitter on your tongue.  

Though, a bitter taste in your mouth was nothing unusual as of late.

Your teeth, however, didn’t soften. His fingers realized that quickly. Yuri didn’t mind drawing your lips over the duct tape though. Of course, only after admiring how red and slick your mouth was with his blood, pursed into an unwilling, stop-sign red heart.

Today, he kept calling you “my dove”, occasionally whispering “such a lamb” after you blink at him, slow and docile in your drugged daze. Everything he put on you was white; he even tied you strings of pearl today instead of the ropes you were used to.

It felt almost sacrificial.

He had gasped, horrified, when he saw what the ropes had done to you after wearing them for weeks; pink track marks wound around your body like the scales of a snake hiding under your skin. You only ever heard this snake hiss from the back of your throat when he tried to kiss you, but you could taste its venom. Your stomach was full of acid. 

Oh, you were so sick. So, so sick of him. You hoped dearly that it was contagious enough to infect him.

A strange coat rack stood at the altar, the only guest in attendance. Yuri gently arranged your body in its stiff, gold arms, his eyes sharp and as clear as crystal while he fussed over the wrinkles in your dress. You had given up a while ago guessing if he had actually been completely lucid this entire time. He had you propped up on a stand, like a fucking action figure in front of huge tables set with empty plates and seats. 

What a giant, make-believe tea party. For fucks sake, couldn’t he have just used an actual doll? One with perfect, plastic skin that wouldn’t melt red and hot with rope burns? Desperate pervert.

He cried when he took off your veil, gazing with sweet focus at your face, as if he wasn’t the one who dressed you up and did your makeup.

A gramophone stood solemn and mechanical at the podium where a priest would, a far-away wedding march playing from its black flower. Suddenly, funny and fuzzy voices broke through the song, laughing and speaking, syllables lost to the static. You realized, vaguely surprised and interested, that this was a recording of some long-lost real wedding, one with guests, a bride who blushed, a groom who watched her walk towards him, in-laws and their side-eyes, obnoxious toddlers, and, most importantly, love. Given, not taken.

Yuri listened excitedly to the drone of the priest, and you were coldly aware of how hollow the hall was, echoing and multiplying the minister’s murmurings in the air ‘til you felt yourself practically suffocating in vows. Yuri chimed in loudly over the real, long gone groom with his own “I do.”  

It’s your turn.

No yelling, no ripping out his hair, not even a glimmer of sweat on his temple; Yuri stood serene as you refused to complete this duet. You loved this silence.

Then she did it, that giddy bride from long ago cheered out, “I do!”, and his eyes burned so heated and impassioned over you that you understood instantly, with the surety and clarity of the diamond on your finger, that he would never believe you hadn’t married him; you would never be able to convince him that you hadn’t spoken those words. Applause looped in your ears

The wedding band was worse than iron shackles; at least those were mean to be unlocked and split in two.  

Not once did he let your toes touch the floor while the two of you danced; the glass slippers on your feet clearly weren’t meant for walking in, much less for running away in after night falls. They would shatter, and leave bloody footprints. 

Your stomach turned anxiously when The Cinderella Waltz began to play. Talk about tacky. You squirmed in your veil like a fish caught in a net, much to his annoyance. Then, he relaxed back into a smile. He decided he hadn’t seen it.

“I promise, it would be a lot more fun if our families were here... Maybe we’ll invite them to our anniversary?”

He paused, waiting for you to agree, as if he didn’t tape your mouth shut. He must not like being reminded of the fact that you have canines too.

“I’m sure you’ll be okay by then, right?”

You cringed away from his breath, soaking through the lace like sweat, full of his scent. He pulled you closer fervently and insisted;

“You’re okay.”

You wanted very badly to be okay.

Finally, seasick and sleepy after what seemed to be hours of swaying slowly to the same song, he had decided that it would be appropriate to end the party and bid goodnight to the chairs and untouched plates. He hummed as he passed Romantic Encounter, Mihály Zichy (1864), appreciating how your fingers lilted in the air behind his neck while he carried you.

You saw it.

A door, painted a sweet butter-yellow, slightly ajar amidst a stack of crisp, white doors folded tightly into the walls like strange envelopes. Right behind it, a box of bars, but not a cage. Low to the ground, and padded with a long pink cushion, as dry and puffy as your own tongue. Only a small teddy lay asleep in the crib. For now.

You almost groaned in anguish, but the tape held it in. Shh. That’s for later.

****************************

Hello!

With no wifi and nowhere to go, what am i to do but illustrate and write my daydreams? This dashing groom is Yuri, @love-toxin ‘s character! I actually have a copy of Cot’s The Springtime hanging in my bedroom, and i thought the image of “classic”, idealized romance would suit Yuri the best!

Also, i really wanted to draw him in bridal lingerie and jewelry bcs hes a vry pretty lad and androgyny makes my heart throb!

Okay!! I hope you liked this silliness! Love u, bye <3

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Purple (1/?)

Summary: Can you write a bnha story where the reader is an experiment like a Nomu and is the twin sister of Shinso and she went missing years ago at like 5years old. She has a bunch of different quirks but her body can’t handle them so she is always hurt or bandaged. Maybe Aizawa takes her under his wing with Shinso and she falls for Kirishima? She kind of acts like a five-year-old but flinches at sudden noises and movements and has ptsd similar to that of an abused child. Thank you and lots of love! -BC

1 | 2

“Are you ready sweetheart?” Midnight asked in a soft voice and she kneeled beside the girl. She was taking deep and stay breathes as she clenched her hoodie. She nodded slowly Present Mic who was standing in the door slowly opened it for her and walked in, Aizawa had just explained to the class they would getting a new classmates. She slowly tiptoed into the classroom behind Midnight practically hiding behind her. 

“Everyone this is (Y/n) she’ll be joining our class. Be kind to her …. or else” Aizawa said placing his final glare of Mineta and Bakugo who he knew would definitely be a problem one more than the other. Taking her hand Midnight led her to a seat in front of the classroom where all the teacher could keep a good eye on her through the class. Once she was settled and comfortable Midnight gave her a few encouraging words and Mic gave thumbs up before they both hastily back out of the classroom but not before giving the entire class a deep, heavily, sinister glare daring them to hurt her. 

“who the hell are you?” Bakugo shouted (Y/n) flinched at his loud voice and shrunk into herself. 

“Oi, Bakugo, that’ s enough,” Aizawa said reprimanding the young hedgehog he then slugged in his chair. 

The rest of the day went without a hitch. No teacher called on (y/n) and no student talked to her. They would have talked to her in between classes but the next teacher came in so quick it was like they were waiting in the hall for their turn and they could have gotten her during lunch but Midnight snatched her away before anyone could approach her and brought her back by their next teacher as soon at the bell rang. And when class was released Aizawa came took her to god knows where and brought her back to the dorms later in the evening . This was how the entire week processed no one aside from the teachers got to talk to the new student. 

“What do you think is her deal?” kaminari asked as a few of them watched Aizawa walk her upstairs. “ she doesn’t talk, she doesn’t participate in class -”

“She does her work and takes her notes,” Momo said 

“Yeah but she doesn’t raise her hand, the teacher don’t call on her. She even skips out on Hero training. All the teacher treat her special.  What’s so special about her?”

“maybe she’s got a special quirk,” sero said 

“Like what?”

Thus began a class discussion on the mysterious girl’s quirk. During the discussion, Kirishima slipped way to the kitchen to look for a snack. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks to find the girl of the hour who everyone was talking about not even five feet away kneeling on the floor in front of an open fridge with a pink bento box in her lap. Looking down he sees a pink water bottle at his feet picking it up he holds it out to her and gives her a gentle closed eye smile. He heard the fridge close when he opened his eyes she was gone and the bottle was still in his hand. 

Going back to the other he wished them goodnight. And made his way upstairs to his own room. Along the way he stops by (Y/n) room, he knocked on her door when she doesn’t answer he leaves the bottle on the floor in front of her door. Walking away he heard the sound of a door opening looking behind him he sees the door open a tiny hand reach out to grab the water bottle and slipped back in quietly closing the door. 

It was strangely adorable. Kirishima smiled as he turned around walking to his room and going to bed all the while thinking about the new girl. 

-

After that incident, Kirishima began to put more effort into befriending the new girl. It was definitely a challenge as he couldn’t get her during class or lunch due to her always having a teachers’ eye on her during class and disappearing during lunch and she basically barricaded herself in her room in the dorms. But Challenge or not Kirishima tried his best and put in the effort until an opportunity gifted itself to him. 

-

(Y/n) was in the teachers lounge curled up on the corner of the couch. Midnight had brought her here but then she forgot something so then she left but she promised Present Mic was right behind her and would come in soon that was five minutes ago and panic began to set in. She Pulled her hoodie to cover her face curled into herself and began to pull and scratch at her Bandage causing her wounds to reopen and bleed she began to cry but didn’t stop. The longer she was alone the more she scratched and cried. 

Kirishima was walking by the lounge when he heard whimpering approaching the door he places his ear on it. He heard whimpering and crying behind the door and doing the manliest man thing he could do he set in to make it right. Throwing the door open he came in and found her curled up on the couch with tears on her face. 

“It’s you,” he said realizing who it is. She whimpered as she curled more into her self. Kirishima, grabbing a box of tissue off the shelve but them on the table and took a seat on the couch across from her. Keeping a distance seeing as how she reacted. “are you okay? what’s wrong?”

It took her a moment before she finally spoke but in a voice so soft and quiet he had to strain his ears to hear “He’s not here”. It was easy for him to then put things together. 

“You’re waiting for someone one of the teachers... but he’s not here yet and that’s upsets you” She nods she slowly stops scratching. “Okay, how about this I’ll stay with you until he gets her so you’re not alone. How about that, is that okay?” she nodded he smiled.

“My name is Eijirou Kirishima by the way.” (Y/n) wasn’t much of a talker but that was okay because Kirishima figured that out very quickly and talked enough for both of them. She stopped crying and picking at her bandages she soon forgot that someone had left her alone and in the end didn’t even bother to show up. Instead of focusing on to Kirshima as he rambled on about their other classmates. 

-

Midnight brought (Y/n) to the teachers lounge for lunch but ended up leaving shortly after she had left her phone in the classroom and the paperwork which she had planned to finish during lunch in the teachers faculty. On the path to get her phone she stopped to talk to  Ectoplasm, Recovery Girl, MIna, and toru and to put Mineta to sleep. What was suppose to be a five minute walk to get her phone took about 30 minutes. Despite this long wait she wasn’t rushing to return to (Y/n), like she had promised, because she knew Present Mic would be there to keep her company... or so she thought. 

Opening the door to the faculty office she found Present Mic teasing Aizawa who was doing his best to ignore the loud mouth and get some work done. 

“What are you doing?” Midnight asked a sinister and deadly aura coming off of her as she slowly approached him. 

“Um...work?” he whimpered as she stopped directly in front of him he and Aizawa both flinched as she snapped her whip. Mic squealed as Midnight put her heel on his seat in-between his legs and leaned down inches from his face. 

“You’re suppose to be with (Y/n).” it took a full minute for Mic to process what she said first came confusion, then realization, and finally horror. Jumping up he ran out of the room crying out (Y/n)’s name Aizawa and Midnight quickly followed him. 

When they came up to the teachers lounge they found All Might standing in front of the door when he saw the three racing his way he raised a finger to his mouth and shushed them and pointed to the door. They all came to a halt and gave him confused looks. Cracking the door open a little bit he pointed inside. Looking inside they found (Y/n) and Kirishima sitting on the couch together sharing her lunch. She was saying anything instead of listening carefully to Kirishima as he spoke about random things.

The two of them seemed good together Kirishima even getting her to give a small smile. 

As All Might closed the door Midnight let out a small squeal “she made a friend. Oh my god, she made a friend. She made a friend. She made a friend.” she said doing a little dance with Mic. Aizawa as well smiled as he thought of (y/n) making a friend her first week of school was a struggle and as her adopted father her promised himself if she didn’t improve anytime soon he would pull her back out and continue with home schooling her. Fortunately, he wouldn’t have to do that. This was a small win but a win none the less. 

In the mist of their celebration they didn’t here the bell go off or the door open. 

“What’s going on?” all of them jumped startled by Kirishima sudden voice. He waved at his startled teacher and smiled. “ I know I’m not suppose to be in the teachers lounge but (Y/n) was in there and she was upset and looked lonely so I joined her. I hope I didn’t do anything wrong?” 

“No, no, no you’re fine it’s okay.” Midnight quickly said brushing aside and possible thought of punishment.

“It’s my fault. Sweetheart, I’m sorry I left you I was so caught up with my work I forgot. I’m so so sorry” Mic said as he slowly approached (Y/n) he knew she didn’t like being touched so he didn’t bother trying to hug her instead bowing before her, which he didn’t measure correctly and ended up catching her with his hair which brought out another round of apologizes, which made everyone else laugh and (Y/n) Blush. 

“We’re going to class now,” Kirishima said as the adults eventually forgot the two were there and they walked off heading to class. Their classmates were to say shocked to see (Y/n) walking in with Kirishima and not a teacher. Instead of approaching her they all rushed Kirishima asking how did he do it. He didn’t say a word and didn’t have to as the next class started. 

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[chrisevansgoodgirl]

Hello I need more Natasha smut thanks

Anon! I’m sorry this took so long, like legit, it’s been a year. But I wanted something to write about and it just took me forever to come with something I love. The thought came to me one day as I was sad, dramatically on the floor instead of my bed, as I often like to be, lamenting over the fact that I am not a ballerina. Really, it’s a daily thing for me, I am constantly upset about it, so, of course, this followed.

i present to you soft!ballerina!reader with my fav three avengers.

So, I want you to picture a good world after endgame. Everyone’s alive, the avengers are a full swinging team.  The o6 are on earth but have a lot more time on their hands bc the team has grown. Natasha has a lot of time to walk the streets, observe a good and peaceful world she helped create.

She sees you leaving your studio, dressed in pink tights, a black leotard, and combat boots. You have a huge dance bag slung over your shoulder, you’re clumsily pulling your hair out of a bun as you walk down the sidewalk. Nothing more comes from this sighting. She spares only a second to think about how much she did not miss the pain of ballet.

Two weeks later, she’s walking down the street again, it’s purely a coincidence that she sees you. You’re with a few friends, smiling and laughing, and she likes the sound. Soon, Natasha is walking past your studio every day at that time. She’s discovered that you leave Wednesdays and Fridays at that time, but earlier on Saturdays and Sundays and later on Mondays and Thursdays. Sometimes, you’re there on Tuesday, sometimes, you’re not.

You notice her around the 7th time, not that you hadn’t noticed her, she is stunning, of course. But this is when you start to make yourself a little more available, you linger on the sidewalk, pretend to text on your phone. Sometimes, she sits on a bench on the street, other times she’s at a tiny table on the patio of a small coffee shop you try not to frequent, as a coffee addict.

You’d always known who she was, but about a month in, your classmates start to notice her too. You worry they’re going to be bolder than you and steal her attention, especially since she’s never spoken to you or looked directly at you, as far as you knew.

So, one day, you walk across the street where she’s sitting at her table. She doesn’t even bat an eye, almost like she wanted this from you, or at least expected it. You sit across from her, grab a napkin from next to her coffee cup, write your number, then leave without a word.

She texts you two agonizing hours later and asks you to go out with her that night. It’s this fancy restaurant you would have had to save up for if it had been you paying. She’s there in a skintight, low cut black dress, you opted for a tiny pink dress that barely covers your ass. She’s sweet, asks you lots of questions, and you like to make her smile so you always answer in detail. You thought after her second glass of wine, she would get handsy or a little flirtier, she didn’t. She walks you home, says goodnight, and you have to wait four more days until she wants another date.

After that, she expresses interest in your dancing. You start showing up at the studio an hour early so she can come and watch you. Those days, she leaves when others show up, but never fails to reappear so she can walk you home.

One morning, she’s late, but you guys aren’t exactly…a thing, so it’s not within your rights to text and interrogate her on her whereabouts. You wait, preparing yourself for the possibility that she just might not show. She was still busy after all, not everyone was peaceful, the world still needed the avengers. But eventually, she walks through the door and you pull away from the barre to greet her.

She makes a disapproving sound and you scurry back. She directs you to continue dancing and makes her way to the wall across from you. There’s something darker in her eyes, you’ve never seen her like this so you don’t argue. Her eyes follow your legs closely, every once in awhile, glancing up to meet your curious stare. You’re finished with your combination but you don’t move.

“Turn,” she tells you, “to do the other side.”

You listen, but you’re not really sure why. Part of you worries you don’t even remember what you were just doing. She would remember though, she was a great dancer, and ballet is a hard habit to break, especially when it’s taught to you the way it was to Natasha. Not that she’s ever told you, but her history with ballet was common knowledge.

You startle when you feel her arms around your hips. She’s never really this touchy with you. After your third date, she had a cab drive you home, and she set you on her lap the whole drive and kissed you. But she was gentle with you, slow, and you didn’t want to push her.

She shushes you then her hands start to glide up. Your breath catches when her fingertips are directly under your breasts, but she merely skips your chest all together and touches your shoulders, running her nails down your arms.

You shiver, glancing back at her.

She uses two fingers to firmly push your jaw back. “Face the wall. Don’t make me tell you again.”

“I want to see you,” you feel inclined to say.

She slaps your ass, just a small swat, but hard enough to deliver her point. “You have to be a good girl then.”

You’re wet. Just like that. Her low voice in your ear, her gorgeous body pressed against your back, you can’t help yourself.

She slips the straps of your leotard down and rolls the fabric down to your waist. The cold studio instantly hardens your nipples.

You’re squirming, rubbing your thighs together impatiently, until she warns you to stop. But she’s taking forever, you wanted her since your first date. How does she expect you to be as slow as her? “Nat, someone could come in.”

“And?”

You’re not sure how to answer.

“So you want me to stop?”

“No,” you gasp. “No, please.”

She finally grabs your breasts and you shudder, melting into her completely. One hand is holding the barre, the other desperately squeezes her thigh.

Natasha tweaks your nipples painfully, you’re mewling and begging her not to stop. She figures you like it rough then, and she doesn’t stop. She wants you to slip, to press your thighs together or try to take, but you became aware of her game quickly.

You keep your mouth shut through all her teasing, at least until she tears your suit down to your hips. “Natasha, please.” You want to see her, kiss her, touch her.

She spins you around, lips crashing down on yours. She presses herself against you, walking you all the way to the wall. Her hand slides between your legs and you nearly fall to your knees.

She wraps an arm around the small of your back to keep that from happening.

“Can I touch you?”

She’s staring at you, eyes light and smirk wicked. “Of course.”

You tug the button of her pants undone and slide your hand down the front of her lace panties. She’s so wet, you just wish you could taste her. This was you, all you, you had this effect on her body and that made you feel powerful, beautiful.

The zipper of her jeans is scratching the back of your hand, but you don’t stop. You rub her clit just as fast as she does yours. You’re both moaning, gazes locked, frantically grinding against the other’s hand. Until you both come, which is almost simultaneous, which you’re thankful for because you lost all sense of reality with your orgasm.

Okay! Stop here if all you wanted was Natasha! I know it just says Natasha, but I can’t help myself. When I asked for filth, there was a certain trio x reader I didn’t get that I was really surprised not to get! So…I apologize, I’m a bi thot.

Holy fuck, that gif. he is fucking beautiful.

She’s nicer after that. Sometimes, she stops by your apartment before class and fucks you there instead. When she does accompany you to the studio now, it’s often to help you. She’s improved your arabesque tremendously.

Sometimes, she fucks you after she walks you home. In the seclusion of your apartment, Natasha tears your clothes off like they are nothing. You start wearing simple bodysuits then, the kind with the clasps, not the expensive leotards made for dance.

You like her, and you know she likes you back. But she doesn’t want to be exclusive. Says she’s just not wired that way, that she’ll let you down. You’re, in a way, relieved. You like Natasha and you didn’t want to lose her, but you also felt…young, too young to commit to only having sex with one person for the rest of your life.

What Natasha doesn’t know is that she isn’t the only Avenger that walks that street. You have classes there, not only the ballet kind. College was your time to truly explore all you could and though you were a little aimless as far as a major went, you wanted to dip your toes into everything. Mostly, art. Dance was expected, theatre was inevitable, but painting was new.

Steve Rogers likes art and you like Steve Rogers. Your campus was in the midst of art week, huge displays everywhere, when you met him. You sort of walked right into him because you were texting Nat and were completely distracted. He was stunning in person, you’d seen enough pictures, but even those couldn’t prepare you. You couldn’t walk away, there was just something pulling you back every time you thought you should.

You didn’t ask why he was there, you also didn’t pretend to not know who he was. There was just no time for that. You simply asked him what his favorite exhibit was. You also may have called him captain, but that’s whatever. Long story short, he was teaching you to draw at least three times a week in the evenings after you went home and changed to meet him at his favorite restaurant. He knew you danced, but of course, he never tried to see you at the studio, just made you promise you’d invite him to any shows you were in.

He likes to sit next to you, touch your forearm as you draw, kiss your neck to distract you, and pretend he needs to be that close to see what you’re doing. He’s your teacher after all, right? But that’s only now, in the beginning, it was totally friendly.

It changed almost three torturous months in. He went outside to take a call and you, like the absolute disaster you were, dropped your purse and his sketchbook. The book conveniently opened up to a page of you, but your curious fingers did the turning and found more. He had been drawing you since the day you met and you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it. Flattered, grateful that clearly, he liked you back. But it was almost overwhelming, is this actually how he saw you? And frustrating! If he liked you, how could he just keep it bottled up?

But you had to go, your hour-and-a-half session every Tuesday was ending. It was time for your study group so you gathered your things in one arm, his things in the other, and headed out. He was just finishing his call, noticed you, and, if not a tad frantically, took the sketchbook and pencil case from you. Before he’d even hung up, you rolled onto your toes and kissed him. He was surprised, frozen, and couldn’t hang up the phone.

Not until you were both interrupted. “Are you kissing someone?!” Steve jerked back, turning away as he cleared his throat. “I will talk to you later, Tony,” he growled.

You had your fingers pressed to your lips, trying to smother your laugh.

He turned back to you with narrowed eyes as he shoved his phone in his pocket.

“I’m sorry—“

He didn’t believe you for a second. “Oh, you sound it.”

You bit your lip, eyes lowering. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so forward. He was old-fashioned.

He took one of your purse straps from your shoulder and slipped his sketchbook inside.

You turned up to him, eyebrows pulling together.

“You saw them, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Almost full, I need a new one anyway.”

He was giving you his sketchbook and you swore your heart was going to beat out of your chest.

He matched your grin with his own, one hand taking your hip to reel you in for another kiss. A real kiss, one where you were both moving against one another. He pinned you to the brick wall next to the exit and kissed you despite all the traffic going in and out. And you had stupidly thought he would be the kind of man who didn’t like being so public.

So, he likes being touchy. You like wearing skirts. It became a routine, buried in the back of the restaurant, hidden in a booth. Every time he’s praising you for what you’ve drawn, he likes to slide his hand up between your thighs and you like to not wear underwear, just to be helpful. He likes to make you come and then lick his fingers clean, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

Unlike Natasha, he comes to you at night. She is your sun and he is your moon. He is also irregular hours, frantic fucking, desperate and whispered words as you’re both coming down, gentle touches when he’s trying to leave you–which only works 1 out of every 5 times–and sweet promises that you would see him soon. If only because he is utterly and undeniably addicted to you.

However, he tells you the same, and again, you embrace it. He kisses you, tells you that you’re beautiful and amazing, but he can’t be your boyfriend. He’s not steady enough for you. You’re glad. You can’t hurt Steve, you can’t hurt Natasha, it’s the last thing you would ever want to do. You promise him you understand and kiss him until he’s not frowning anymore.

Then he rips off your clothes as he pushes you to your bedroom. He always starts on top, closing you in with his huge arms, pounding into you because you can take it, staring deep like he’s looking for something. You hold onto him because he likes that, likes when you claw hard enough to draw blood. He says the filthiest things to you, and sometimes, neither one of you can bear to break away until he just shuts his damn mouth. Sometimes, he takes advantage of that and you have to cancel both on Nat and skip class—it’s only happened three times though, and those times followed bad missions so you decided to just be glad that he wasn’t pushing you away.

He cuddles as long as he can, either until he’s restless, you need to go, or he has another job to do. He never talks to you about the other marks on your body, love bites or fingerprints not left by him, instead, he leaves the same right next to it. And you don’t tell him to stop because you really don’t want him to. Nat is quiet on that end as well—she can’t say anything, it would cross the boundaries she made herself.

You’re a perfectionist, it’s a terrible habit that leads to obsessing at times. There’s a little dance area you created, just a portable barre and five cheap, long mirrors stuck to the wall. Steve commented on it before, but nothing that caught your interest. Not until he’s in your apartment and has yet to get you naked, but he’s still looking at you with that look.

Natasha had been there earlier that morning, wouldn’t stop fingering you until you begged her to give you a break. When you finally regained use of your legs, you were still tired. You put on your bodysuit, your wrap skirt, and then you were on your way to the beginning of your day.

He likes that you’re a ballerina, likes to see how passionate you are about it. He can relate. He likes to see you in thin layers of light pink and he especially likes taking them off you. And today, he clearly appreciates the extra exposed skin, you’re still dressed for practice because you were being lazy when you got home.

You say nothing as you walk over to the wall. You start with a few stretches, slow and simple. You don’t look at him because that’s the best way to get what you want from Steve. If he thinks you’re not paying attention to him for a second when he wants you to be, he will gladly steal that attention.

He likes your legs, likes to watch them move, so you go through your favorite combination, a lot of tendus, rond de jambes, and developpés. After you complete the opposite side, you hear him walk toward you, but you continue. You bring your outer leg up to the barre, leaning away.

Steve catches you, pressing his chest to your back. His arms wrap tightly around you and you set your head to his shoulder to look up at him. One hand reaches out to your raised leg, his fingertips gliding up slowly until you shudder against him. He grips your thigh and pulls it back indelicately, other arm guiding you to face the barre.

He curls both hands around your waist, you feel heat pool between your legs at the sight. His hands are massive, a fact hard to ignore when he gets them on you. He bends you over the barre, one hand pressing against your back to keep you there. You feel him against your ass, hard and greedy as if you’ve been teasing him for hours.

He pulls the tie loose on your skirt and it slides to the floor. His fingers find the clasp against your pussy and you whimper his name, a plea to hurry the fuck up. But he won’t, you know that. “You’re so wet.”

“I want you.”

“Is that what all that was? You were putting on a show for me?”

“Did you like it?”

He unzips his pants then grabs your ass hard. “I did.”

You wait patiently as he moves his clothing out of the way. He takes your hips in both hands, the tip of his cock pressing against your pussy. As he begins to push into you, you grab the barre hard. Your legs are shaking until he’s pressed flush against your ass. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been, him inside of you always makes you feel so fucking full and complete.

He thrusts hard, the barre moves because you’re dragging it with you. He watches your breasts move in the mirror, hands touching your ass, your clit, or your clothed torso. When he’s close, he grabs you by the neck and pulls you up straight. “Watch your pussy, baby doll, watch how good you take my cock.”

You’re so fucked then, legs threatening to buckle but he always catches you so you don’t mind. At the end of the night, he carries you to your bed, kisses your face a dozen times, and promises to text you tomorrow.

If you weren’t such a freak, you’d stop there. But when have you ever done what you’re supposed to? You were in two relationships of absolute freedom. Until you were in three.

Carol found you in a record shop. She was more forward than her friends and wasted no time letting you know she was interested in you. That same night, she took you to some dive bar and you were wearing this tiny skirt and a slinky shirt. She locked you in a restroom stall where she draped your thighs over her shoulders and ate you out until you were crying and couldn’t stop shaking.

She introduces you to her best friend, Maria, but not the others and obviously, you’re thankful for that. The bar is your usual spot, where she sits you on her lap the entire night. She drinks but never too much, as she wants to take care of you completely, so she lets you drink. You don’t get wasted often, but it’s a comfort knowing no man will try to pick you up if you’re on her arm.

When it’s time for a change of scenery, it’s at her apartment. You figure it’s too risky to have three regular sexual partners knowing where you live, especially since Steve and Natasha sometimes came to you mindlessly, an apology text as a preface before they explain they weren’t thinking and just had to see you. It makes your heart beat faster so you never tell them to stop.

Carol, on the other hand, likes you to come to her. Which makes things just a little easier.

You’re not sure she’s ever seen you in a pair of pants, it’s merely an inconvenience for you both since you know she’s either going to end up with her fingers in your pussy or on her knees in front of you.

She knows about the ballet and likes to “help” you stretch. 🙄 You shouldn’t complain, she really does aid your flexibility,  but it’s never with pure intentions. She’s started taking your clothes off before you even start your routine at this point, that’s always how it ends anyway. She starts at your feet, as she knows how obsessive you are about perfectly pointing your toes, then your hips, by the time you’re onto legs, you know that’s because she’s getting impatient.

On occasion when she brings out the strap, she loves laying you down, pressing one leg flat to the floor, lifting the other until your foot is on her shoulder and fucking you hard. And claims she needs to do it again because you can’t only stretch one side. Other times, she’ll have you face the wall, one leg as high up as you can get it, her arms wrapped right around you as she fucks you from behind. Sometimes, she’ll have you in bridge position where she eats your pussy until you literally can’t use your legs a second longer. Carol’s definitely creative when she gets you alone and undressed in her apartment.

She’s the one you’ve had to splurge on a lingerie collection for. God, she loves you in lace. She loves to see you so soft, she loves taking every scrap of clothing off of you, and then giving it to you so hard. She likes to tie you up; sometimes, wrists and ankles to each bedpost, sometimes, just your arms. It’s always a workout in itself to be with Carol, at least that’s what you tell yourself on the rare occasion she tempts you out of going to ballet.

The first night you stay at her apartment, she takes you out again. She had been on a mission for the past two weeks, as was Natasha, so you’d had a lot of time with Steve, but it was switched now and he was off on an assignment. Under your black leather skirt and old band tank top, you’re wearing a lacy pink one-piece. When you get back to her place, you push her onto the bed and undress for her.

You can tell by the look in her eye, you are so in for it. She grabs you, forces you onto the bed, facing down, and ties you up. She drapes herself over you, whispering in your ear about how sexy she finds you. She doesn’t push the lace aside, instead, she pushes into you with her strap, the lace added this weird sensation that you don’t necessarily dislike. But she doesn’t go too deep, in fear that she will damage her new favorite article of clothing, it’s little more than a tease. But you know better than to demand anything from her when she ties you up.

From there on out, since you decided to leave the pink suit at her place, every time she tells you to be at her place at a specific time, which is always before she’s set to be there, you’re meant to be wearing it and waiting for her. This was new for you, you’d never been with a partner so controlling, even Steve and Nat were just simple control freaks, dictating your orgasms, your positions, and your smart mouth.

But Carol was on a different level, a level without fear. Nat and Steve were holding back, Carol clearly wasn’t. Your favorite scene is when she gets home, lets you know, and tells you to meet her in the living room. She’s already undressed then, sitting on her couch and watching TV (😉😘, thanks anon (x)). 

The first time, you aren’t really sure what she wants from you, so you get onto the floor, crawl your way on hands and knees to her pussy, and lick and suck until she’s coming. But she still says nothing, doesn’t touch you, so you do it again. You don’t stop until your jaw is sore and your thighs are slick with your own aching need.

You’re pouting and she’s smirking, so you know this is her game. You stand up, sit on the couch between her legs, and take her right hand. Easily, you slide your pussy onto two of her fingers, then you take her left hand and place it over your breast. You never lose your hold of her hands and you pretend like that doesn’t matter. You fuck her fingers with no assistance from her and keep her hand squeezing your breast, you even let your ass grind against her pussy, which is soaking. You’re loud and desperate, but when you glance at her and see she’s staring at you, you know you’ve won this round.

That doesn’t happen again, you’d simply shocked her by being so forward. Future scenarios require you to be a brat. You whine and demand that she pay you some attention, but she doesn’t, so you get mouthy, or you start to touch yourself and don’t listen when she tells you to stop. Later, she’ll spank you until your ass is sore, but that’s okay with you.

It’s not always just about sex. She can be the sweetest sometimes. The bar crowd teases her endlessly for it as she’s gone around telling everyone “her girl” is fucking smart and so talented. Maria’s the worst, but once, she took you aside and told you she doesn’t mean a word of it and she’s just happy you make Carol smile so freely.

She also visits you in between classes, gives you coffee or food, talks to you about the rest of your day. You ask her what she’s going to do, and sometimes, she’ll even tell you. But sometimes, she’s going on a mission and she’ll spare you the details because she knows you worry.

You know she sees the marks too, the ones left by Steve and Nat, but pretends she doesn’t because it’s just not the way this is going to be. They’re all busy and you have the kind of life that not one can fit into completely but that the three of them can. You’ve been working on that speech for the day they finally find out. You presume it will be your first show as all three have demanded to know when it is because nothing could keep them away.

lol, where did this even come from? Can I tell you who’s to blame? This beautiful gif maker, avengercarol. as soon as I saw the third gif, I knew what I was going to do. this post, like it, reblog it (x)

[luccislegs]

Hi! I just found your blog and I love your hcs and scenarios. THATS WHY id like to ask you some scenario if thats alright: a girl with a demon akuma no mi joins the spade pirates and falls in love woth Ace. Is thats okay? Thanks!❤️

so i did a little research to make sure i knew what exactly an akuma was, bc my only run in with that word is from d. grey man and i think we all know that info gotten from anime should always be fact checked. i found that it’s a malevolent fire demon, so i’m going to write her as a very angry zoan type. sound good? good.

–

You stared in dismay at the flaming wreckage of your ship, which was in that state because you were incapable of controlling your anger. Which just pissed you off more. You huffed, feeling the flames spark at your fingertips before you clenched them in your fists. Just as you were getting ready to wander off, a chorus of voices filled your ears, followed by a group of pirates rounding the corner.

The leader was laughing raucously at some joke he had just told, but it tapered off as he caught sight of the fire raging.

“That’s some bad luck. What happened?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in question.

You bristled at the question, immediately defensive. “None of your business.”

“Woah,” he said, holding his hands up in defense, “you don’t have to tell me, but it looks like you’re out a ship. Why don’t you join us for a drink? We don’t bite.”

You gritted your teeth, tempted to turn them down. Then you sighed and nodded, realizing you could do with something to calm your nerves and distract you from this disaster. No one said you had to actually stick around.

But as you made your way towards the tavern, the stupid jokes the leader, who you found out was the captain and that his name was Ace, was telling were hilariously stupid, and you were relaxed before you ever got into the building. Without even thinking, you joined them at their table, sipping at your own mug while the others powered through a dozen drinks. By the time 2 hours had passed, they were well and truly gone, but somehow you found you didn’t mind their rowdiness. It was a nice distraction from your ire and the fact that you were now stranded on this stupid island.

They were only there for 2 days before the log pose reset, and you were standing on the dock watching them load up. It left a sour taste in your mouth that you would likely never see them again, but you were grateful for the company they had provided.

They were getting ready to hoist anchor when Ace called out to you, “Aren’t you coming?”

You froze, staring at him dumbfounded, before shaking your head enthusiastically. “No, I– I really shouldn’t. I get angry sometimes and…well you saw what happened. I don’t want to do that to you or your ship. Thank you though.”

Ace grinned, hopping back down onto the pier. “Nonsense, _____. I guess you don’t know do you?” he said, and with a flourish of his wrist held a palmful of fire.

“Wait,” you said, your eyes widening with surprise, “you can control fire too?” That wasn’t necessarily the full extent of your powers, but you weren’t ready to divulge the rest just yet. You generally pretended to be a logia type, but in reality you were a mythical zoan with a terrifying form, and people generally didn’t like it. Best to let them believe you could just control fire rather than transform.

“Control it?” he asked with cocky smirk, “Baby, I am fire!” he said as his whole body lit up. He was surprised when you took a step closer, allowing your hand to be enveloped in the flames before it wrapped around his bicep. Somehow, he found that to be one of the most attractive things he had ever experienced, because no one could touch him while he was like that without getting hurt. But there you were, staring at him in wonder. “Our ship was built with me in mind, so you’ll be fine.”

You looked up at him with a hopeful shine in your eyes before your gaze moved to this ship. You bit your lip, taking a moment to consider whether you could really be happy with them, before realizing you already were, and nodded. “Okay, I’ll join you, if you’re sure.”

His answering smile set your heart aflutter, and you found yourself unable to help smiling back.

                                                        _____

Several months into your new adventure, and the others had finally stopped encouraging you to cut loose, much to your relief. It had taken several rather forceful refusals before they finally stopped, but you couldn’t say you were happy. It wasn’t that you wanted to avoid drinking and partying, but your temper was already short and hard to control, and alcohol just made it worse.

No one but Ace seemed to know this, though, and so he went through the extra effort of including you in their past-times, for which you were grateful. More often than not, he found his way to you in the bars or on the beaches, whenever you were docked, or on the ship when it was just your crew out on the open ocean, and sat beside you, talking about whatever came to mind. This encouraged the others to do the same, and you found it made you feel less alone.

It also began another ritual that you hadn’t foreseen. Sometimes, the flickering anger grew to be too much and you found yourself unable to sleep. On nights like that, you would make your way to the deck of the ship and use the gentle sounds of the ocean to soothe yourself. Somehow, Ace caught on to what you were doing and took it upon himself to accompany you, foregoing sleep to help you feel better. It was a nice gesture, but it didn’t help the new flames stirring next to the ever present anger. More than once, you found yourself more stressed out because he was there, and it was a struggle not to snap at him.

It was strange, how Ace seemed to be able to read you, because during times like that he would reach out and take your hand, and that would settle you down again. The constant heat of his hand, somehow hotter than your own, would tether you back to reality for a while, but then he would take it away again and it would start all over again. You were sure he didn’t know exactly why you were so irate, but you couldn’t tell him to go away when he was so sweet and just trying to help.

Some nights, he would give in before you and say goodnight with a gentle hand on your head and a teasing command not to stay up too late. You would smile and nod, and as soon as he turned it would drop, a sigh of relief following the sound of the door closing.

You were in too deep and you knew it, but you couldn’t push him away. And it just made the emotions swirling around inside you all the more confusing.

                                                        _____

As with all secrets, yours finally came to light in what was probably the worst way you could have imagine.

Ace was strong, as were the others, and as were you, but this time the enemy was just overwhelming. You were fighting your own group of enemies when you saw Ace fall. You didn’t know how, nothing had ever hurt him before, but somehow this person had done it. Before you knew it, you were exploding with rage and on a rampage.

The others cowered in fear, Ace looking on in awe as you unleashed your true form on the ones who had hurt your family, and the person you cared for more than anything. By the time you were done, nothing remained standing, and the others had run into hiding.

But you didn’t know that, and collapsed in the center of the destruction, thinking you had killed them all in the crossfire. Tears welled up and spilled over, and you began to sob into your hands. This is exactly why I’m always alone, you thought bitterly, all I ever do is hurt people.

Ugly anger and hurt swirled around inside you, blocking out everything around you, until warm arms enveloped you, hugging you close. You immediately recognized the warmth and struggled closer, hoping to disappear in his arms. You were so overwhelmed with happiness and shame that you couldn’t form words, and cried harder.

Ace didn’t say anything, rubbing your back and petting your hair until you had cried yourself out. Only when you pulled back did he open his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

Through watery hiccups, you said, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” It was all you could manage to formulate, and you would have kept on if Ace hadn’t covered your mouth.

You stopped, eyes wide with fear. You expected him to berate you, to ask why you hadn’t told him that you were a zoan type, to tell you that you were a monster and you had almost killed them. Not that you didn’t know it already, but you would deserve it. You should have known better; you knew you couldn’t control your powers and that someone would get hurt eventually.

“I’ll leave, Ace. I promise. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I saw you were hurt and I just– I don’t know. I’m sorry,” you said around his hand, clenching his shirt in your hands. It was the last thing you wanted, but it was for the best. You couldn’t bear the thought of hurting anyone in the crew, most of all him.

To your surprise, instead of assent, you got confusion.

“Woah, leave? No one said– _____, you don’t have to leave. Yeah, you messed up, but everyone does. So did I. Your devil fruit powers are new, and you just need to learn to control them. I can help you, but as your captain, I’m telling you you aren’t allowed to leave,” he said, cupping your chin. His free hand came up to wipe away the tears still falling. “I don’t want you to.”

To your immense surprise, he leaned over and pressed his lips to yours, and your eyes fell half-closed, your body relaxing in his arms. When he pulled back, you started, staring at him in confusion. “I could have killed you and the others, Ace. I couldn’t stand it if you got hurt.”

He grinned, taking your hand and helping you to your feet before slinging an arm around your shoulders. The others had come out of hiding, swarming around you with mixtures of concern and awe. A barrage of voices, mainly consisting of “How come you didn’t tell us?” and “That was so cool,” filled the air. You had been expected resentment and anger, but they surprised you.

Then you remembered they were pirates, and figured they were probably used to almost dying anyway. It didn’t help you feel any less guilty, but it made you feel a little better that they didn’t outright hate you.

Ace began to steer you back towards the ship, willingly leading you as you stumbled blindly beside him. Your outburst had cost every ounce of energy you possessed and you were surprised you were even still standing.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you learn to control it. It just takes practice, but it won’t do any good to run. We’ll just hunt you down,” he said, tipping his hat as he grinned down at you.

You laughed tiredly as the others began to shout in agreement, and you realized that you wouldn’t have been able to leave them anyway.

–

dont @ me

[carolinesbookworld]

tagged by @kabeswaters and @swellwriting <3

on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now? 0

describe yourself in a hashtag? very similar to @fortisfiliae #stressedanddepressed

if you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be? Harrison Osterfield

if your life was a musical, what would the marquee say? prepare for disaster

what’s one thing people don’t know about you? um...idk my boyfriend knows basically everything about me sooooooo

what’s your wake up ritual? wake up, turn off alarm (bc with this at-home learning stuff i’ve been waking up like literally 1 min before my alarm goes off???), text good morning to my bf, snapchat, discord bc moonlit fam talks allll night, tumblr, get out of bed, wash face, get dressed, coffee and breakfast it’s very specific

what’s your go to bed ritual? wash glasses and face bc my skin is soo oily by the end of the day so you best believe my glasses be needing washing everyday, shower, say goodnight to fam, text bf for like 15 mins or until he says goodnight, turn alarm on, plug in phone, go to sleep

what’s your favorite time of day? morning but specifically from 7:30 until 9  

your go to for having a good laugh? FRIENDS as in the show

dream country to visit? Australia bc my dad once got to hold a baby koala there and i wanna do that so bad

what’s the biggest surprise you’ve ever had? so my family moved before my sophomore year so me and my bff started trying to surprise each other whenever one of us came to visit and the weekend of my birthday, she skypes me as she’s walking around what i thought was her house and then i start hearing an echo and next thing i know she’s standing in the doorway of my room and that was pretty much the best surprise ever

heels or flats/sneakers? sneakers converse

vintage or new? new but i love vintage aesthetic i just couldn’t live with it

who do you want to write your obituary? karli @swellwriting bc she is my brain twin and i would be mocking her horrible grammar and spelling from my grave and we would both get a good laugh about it in the afterlife

style icon? the mom i babysit for haha she’s like one of my best friends tho which sounds really weird but it’s true

what are three things you cannot live without? books, dogs, days that are exactly 65 degrees

what’s one ingredient you put in everything? um idk chocolate??

what 3 people living or dead would you want to make dinner for? Sarah J. Maas, Eddie Redmayne, my boyfriend bc i haven’t had dinner with him for 47 days

what’s your biggest fear in life? losing the people i love...and spiders

window or aisle seat? window bc aisle makes me anxious that i’m in people’s way

what’s your current tv obsession? the cw’s nancy drew it’s so good please go watch it

favorite app? instagram, discord, or tumblr, depends on my mood

secret talent? um idk i can draw very realistic portraits of people when i take the time to

most adventurous thing you’ve ever done in your life? okay so technically this wasn’t me who did it but i was part of the adventure. when me and my boyfriend were just “friends” ie. liked each other and knew we liked each other but were too scared to admit it. anyway, we had this elaborate plan to shave our youth group leader’s head if we were able to bring in a certain amount of food for the food drive during vbs week. so yeah we spent like three days planning the whole thing out and then decided to go price shopping at walmart with all of our younger siblings bc we needed supervision or something lol to see how many individual things of food we could buy with $20 each we ended up just getting like 20 huge boxes of ramen and then his sister ended up throwing up so we took her home and then went back to church where my car was parked but instead of turning to get to church my boyfriend decides to go straight through the stop light (it was green okay) and spontaneously drive up into the foothills. well we get to the top of the foothills and we’re at the lake and we all get out to look at the city and my boyfriend claims that we need to document this moment so he takes a selfie with all of us and we somehow ended up right next to each other in it and i only found this out like three months ago (this happened back in june) that he only took the picture because he wanted one of us together in case we didn’t start dating lol so sweet and yeah, that was a very long story but i needed context instead of just saying “yeah we drove up a mountain”

how would you define yourself in three words? loyal, anxious, passionate

favorite piece of clothing you own? this dark coral dress that makes my eyes and hair look really pretty

a must have clothing item that everyone should have? a hoodie

a superpower you would want? i want to be able to project my thoughts into someone else’s mind bc i’m so bad at explaining stuff sometimes especially when it comes to how i feel

what’s inspiring you in life right now? ACOTAR series by Sarah J. Maas, highly recommend

best piece of advice you’ve received? opening up to more than one person is important because if you lose that person then you’ve lost all your support

best advice you’d give your teenage self? the friends who have stuck around this long are the ones you want to hang onto and the ones that you need are the ones you don’t always see

a book everyone should read? The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

what would you like to be remembered for? being a crazy dog mama

how do you define beauty? confidence in yourself and not caring what others think about you

what do you love most about your body? my metabolism

best way to take a rest/decompress? open a window to feel the breeze and listen to Islands by Hey Ocean! which is so calming to me

favorite place to view art? nature or tumblr

if your life was a song, what would the title be? we’re going with a fob/p!atd theme here and calling it “depression screwed me over so i screwed it back and ended up worse off”

if you could master one instrument, what would it be? piano

if you had a tattoo, where would it be? probably on my forearm or by my left hip

dolphins or koalas? koalas did i mention that i want to hold a baby koala

what’s an animal that represents you? great dane puppy ie. very excitable but will also take a four hour nap when tired

best gift you’ve ever received? my best friend made this photo collage for me when i moved that is hanging in my room and it has a bunch of pictures of me and her over the years and i just love it

best gift you’ve given? for christmas i gave my boyfriend a hammock and the bookshelf addition of clue, two things he had no idea i would remember him mentioning and his face was priceless. also i made my mom a cake for her birthday this year and she was so happy and said it made her feel very special <3

what’s your favorite board game? clue or ticket to ride (specifically nordic countries)

what’s your favorite color? currently a pale turquoise

least favorite color? any shade of light brown

diamond or pearls? diamonds

drugstore makeup or designer? drugstore bc i don’t wear makeup enough to validate buying designer, also i don’t really care

pilates or yoga? yoga

coffee or tea? coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee cof-

what’s the weirdest word in the english language? palindrome is wild because it means a word spelled the same way forwards and backwards but it itself is not one such word

dark chocolate or milk chocolate? milk

stairs or elevators? stairs

summer or winter? summer but like, only june

you are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat? panera mac n cheese

a dessert you don’t like? red velvet cake which btw is not red-colored chocolate cake as many would have you believe

a skill you’re working on mastering? writing

best thing to happen to you today? i got to put all of my new plants in my windowsill and i named one of them (its name is albert in case you were wondering)

worst thing to happen to you today? idk today’s been pretty good as far as quarantine goes

best compliment you’ve ever received? my boyfriend calls me beautiful all the time and he always reminds me that that is describing looks and personality

favorite smell? coffee or my boyfriend’s sweatshirt for the week after i steal it

hugs or kisses? can i choose both?? depends on my mood mostly but i guess hugs if i just had to pick one

if you made a documentary, would it be about? literally anything relating to the mcu

last piece of content you consumed that made you cry? a court of wings and ruin by sjm

lipstick or lipgloss? lipstick

sweet or savory? sweet

girl crush? literally any female in the teen wolf cast

how do you know you’re in love? hahahaha haha what's love

a song you can listen to on repeat? we fall apart by we as human or uma thurman by fob

if you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be? idk my boyfriend probably, this is something we have discussed in depth

what are you most excited for/about this time in your life? for life to go back to normal

tagging @finnofamerica @woakiees @beskarjedi @outerlacy @swanimagines hahahahaha have funnnnn this took me an hour to answer

[aliferous-ly]

Forgot

WOW I TOTALLY DIDNT FORGET ABOUT SECRET SANTA AHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA ME??? FORGET??? NEVER

Summary: “Logan, meanwhile, was struggling to suppress the growing panic in his chest. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Logan chastised himself, rubbing his gloves together, breaths making little puffs of white in the cold air. What would still be open? Walmart? Probably? For those as irresponsible and foolish as he?” 

Words: 3866 bc i’m uncontrollable

Genre: fluff??? idk my man

Pairing: there’s no explicit romance. logicality if you squint but its like, heavy platonic shipping ig? i’m a mess forgive me

warnings: uhh ghosts implications, there’s a cancer mention, self deprecation, i think that’s it?? if there’s something else let me know!!

tags: @sassy-in-glasses @rose-gold-roman @justanotherpurplebutterfly @echomist13

THIS IS FOR @kaana-the-ace-witch idk who else to tag for the secret santa thing but UR THE MOST IMPORTANT GOTTA MAKE SURE U SEE THIS

Logan wasn’t a forgetful person. He kept a very specific itinerary, thank you very much, and it was color coded (no, it wasn’t a bullet journal, Roman) for easy reading. Really, nothing could go wrong, if he followed the schedule.

But when Virgil said, “Oh, hey, we’re going over to Pat and Ro’s room for Christmas tomorrow morning, Pat said they’re putting together a huge breakfast,” at eleven thirty pm on December twenty-fourth, Logan felt like a bucket of ice water dumped down his back and trickled through his veins.

“O-oh, alright,” Logan said, like his world hadn’t just fallen apart at the seams.

“You good?” Virgil asked, eyes flicking from the TV displaying Uncharted IV to Logan’s face.

“Peachy,” Logan said. He abruptly stood. “I’m going to turn in. Goodnight.”

“Um, okay, Logan–” Virgil paused the game to face him fully. “Are you sure you’re okay–”

Virgil blinked at the empty room, eyes narrowing. Had he just seen the front door closing, or was that just his imagination?

The sounds from the television drew him back to the screen and Virgil settled back down. If something horrible was going on, Logan would give him at least some sort of warning. Maybe he just forgot sleep existed, and being reminded of the next day’s activities sparked that well-known responsibility.

Virgil shrugged, ate some chips, and unpaused the game.

Logan, meanwhile, was struggling to suppress the growing panic in his chest. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Logan chastised himself, rubbing his gloves together, breaths making little puffs of white in the cold air. What would still be open? Walmart? Probably? For those as irresponsible and foolish as he?

Logan couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe himself. How could he forget – no, how could he neglect to receive any form of gift for the gift-giving season? Hell, he gave Virgil a Hanukkah gift on the first and last day, with Patton and Roman filling the days in between.

Not a single gift. Not for Roman, not for Virgil, and most importantly, not for Patton.

Undoubtedly Patton had gotten him the best, most thoughtful gift he could think of. What if he spent hours and hours focusing on his gift, only to be presented with a last-minute dump of a present? Logan could hardly live with himself. He simply couldn’t believe...

Walmart wouldn’t have a decent gift. It would be picked clean. Could he buy something of worth before tomorrow?

Maybe he had something at his parents house? But that was three hours away, he would get little to no sleep on a gamble. He couldn’t call Roman, he would tell Patton – they lived together, after all – and if he didn’t intentionally tell him, Patton would figure it out – he was much smarter than he let on. Plus, Roman would just have to be overly dramatic – “I can’t believe you forgot to gift the most wonderful human being, me, with a present! The audacity!”

He couldn’t tell Virgil, Virgil was... Virgil. Virgil didn’t need any added stress in his life, he’d finally relaxed, and Logan knew how empathetic Virgil was. Virgil would definitely get himself all wrapped up in Logan’s issues and ramp up his own stress in the process. Logan couldn’t – wouldn’t – do that to him.

And obviously Logan couldn’t tell Patton. Never. Logan was well aware of his shortcomings as a friend, and expressing love was definitely fell into the “needs work” category. Patton... Patton was the best friend anyone could ever have, and Logan couldn’t stomach presenting his failures to Patton, let alone deal with his “it’s okay, Logan. No, really, don’t worry about it!” Mostly because Logan wanted to be a good friend, he wanted to be the best friend anyone could ever have but it was so hard, none of it came naturally to him.

Logan walked through the park to reach downtown, but paused when a figure slide across the pond, the metal of their skates glinting in the moonlight. They slid over to the edge of the pond, mere feet from where Logan had paused.

“Whatcha doing out this late on Christmas Eve?” they asked, their voice gravely but soothing.

“Finding a gift,” Logan said, the words falling unbidden from his lips. He shoved his hands further into his pockets, fighting the urge to defend himself with I swear I love them, I’m just foolish, please don’t think I’m some deadbeat...

“Ah. Forget?” they said, eyes shining with the reflection of the snow. Logan supposed their eyes must be a lighter color, maybe blue or green. Wrinkles lined their cheeks, or what Logan could see of them. “Or did someone finally convince you?”

Logan scrunched up his nose. “I forgot. I have no idea what to get them.”

“More than one person?” they asked.

“Yeah,” Logan released a puff of air, frustrated. “I can’t think of anything for any of them. It’s too late.”

“It’s never too late,” they said. Their skates touched the snow and they walked, gait smooth despite the blades on their feet, and approached a bench.

“What about you?” Logan asked. “What are you doing out so late?”

“It was a tradition of my daughter and mine to ice skate on the Eve,” they said, lowing themselves onto the bench with an oof. They patted the spot next to them. “Humor an old man for a few minutes?”

Logan nodded once, twice, and then delicately sat next to him. The man sighed. “She was gorgeous, my daughter. Hair was always chopped short, the sharpest eyes you’d ever seen.”

“What happened to her?” Logan asked.

“Cancer,” the old man said, smiling softly. “Hated wearing wigs, so she never did.”

There was a beat of silence, and Logan had no idea what to say. I’m sorry for your loss?

“What about your gifts?” the man asked. “Who did you forget?”

“My best friends,” Logan said, that twinge of frustration twisting in his gut. “All three of them.”

“Tell me about them,” the man said. “While I rest my old feet.”

“Okay,” Logan said, taking his hands out of his pockets to rub them together. “Um, one of them is as quiet as the night, and he’s insanely clever while being obscenely obtuse at the same time. He loves to write... and another is loud, loud as the sun and just as bright, and he doesn’t like to be called a nerd, but...” Logan’s lip twisted. “And then there’s... well. He’s like... he’s... inexplicable. He’s smart, so smart, but in every way I’m not. He could make friends with just about anyone, and he cares, so much, about everything.”

“Ah,” the man said softly. “They sound wonderful.”

“They are,” Logan said, the words landing woeful instead of wistful. “And I can never live up to that. I can never give the best gift...”

“Well, I might have a little something for the first friend of yours,” the old man said, fishing through his pocket. He pulled out a small colored pencil set, with five colors – red, yellow, blue, black, and white. “Of course, it doesn’t seem like much at first glance.”

“Oh, I... I can’t take this,” Logan said. “Um, it’s yours, and it looks... important.”

“Oh, everything has its own importance,” the man said.

“Also...” Logan frowned at his hands, not wanting to burst the man’s bubble. “I think Roman is getting him prismacolors for Christmas. It would pale in comparison.”

“Oh, but this isn’t any regular old pencil set,” the man said. “It’s magic.”

Logan snorted softly, holding the pencil set carefully. The cardboard was worn and didn’t seem to have any brand logo on it. They were obviously used but still had a good amount of lead left, and Logan couldn’t figure out why he loved them so much.

“Magic, hm?” Logan turned the pencil set over in his hand. “What’s so magic about–”

Logan blinked at thin air, lips parted. He tentatively reached out and touched the wood, furrowing his eyebrows and frowning.

Where...

He looked back at the pencil set in his hand and pocketed it, standing slowly. The world felt off-kilter, like he’d just woken up, and a street light flickered.

“Okay,” Logan murmured to himself. “Maybe you just blacked out and missed the goodbyes. That’s fine. That’s normal.”

He started walking down the path, fingers running over the small, angular box. Weird...

He almost tripped on something, catching himself just before hitting the hard concrete.

“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry!” a tinny voice cried out, a small girl appearing in his line of sight and picking up a wooden ball. She cradled it to her chest, curly brown hair framing her face.

“Uh, hello,” Logan said, rigid. He did not know how to handle kids. “Um, what’s your name?”

“My name?” the girl cocked her head. “What are you doing out so late?”

Winded, Logan took a breath. “What are you doing out so late?”

“Waiting for my Gran,” she said. “She’ll be here soon.”

“Okay,” Logan said uncertainly.

“She really loves me,” the girl continued. “I love her, too, but sometimes I feel like I’m invisible. Do you feel invisible sometimes? I do. It’s her birthday next week and I don’t know what to get her. What do you get your friends for their birthdays?”

“I... don’t know,” Logan said. “I’m trying to find Christmas gifts for them right now.”

“Right now?” the girl cocked her head to the side. “Okay. Can you find them?”

Logan shook his head. “Not very well.”

“What are they like?” the girl asked, expression open and vibrant.

“Um.” Logan cleared his throat, feeling an odd sense of deja vu. “One cares so much about everything but pretends he cares about nothing, another is passionate and vigorous, and he does everything all or nothing. The last is... he’s... he’s like a blanket, or the smell of baking cookies, and he’s so talented at so many things I don’t think I can live up, sometimes...”

Logan’s throat closed and he settled his gaze on the ground. Why... how... where did all that come from?

“Oh!” she said, delighted. “I have something for your second friend!”

“What?” Logan said, barely managing to get the word out before she shoved the ball into his hands. Smooth, round, with chipped red paint... it didn’t look like much.

“I can’t take this,” Logan protested. “This is yours!”

“But it’s magic,” she said sagely, voice whisper-quiet, lips stretched into a secretive grin. “Touch it, and all your wildest dreams come true!” She wiggled her fingers, making small explosion noises with her mouth.

“Um,” Logan twisted the ball in his hands. “Like a magic eight ball?”

“A magic eight ball?” she repeated. “What’s a magic – oh!” her eyes widened comically, gaze darting around her body. “Oh, oh!”

“What’s wrong?” Logan looked around him, searching for danger. “What’s...”

Logan froze. “Where’d...” he said into empty air, cold and sharp. “But...” he looked at the wooden ball, feeling the grooves and chips against his fingertips.

He pocketed the ball and slowly got to his feet, stretching his fingers and rolling his wrists. Everything seemed... off. Off in an indescribable way.

Okay, he told himself. Get to walmart, find something for your friends. Or... he ran his fingers over the pencil set, over the wooden sphere. For Patton...?

Logan shoved his hands deep into his pockets and continued on, keeping his gaze on the ground so he didn’t see any ice skating men or little girls with wooden toys. He had to keep staring at the path, get to walmart, maybe buy and obscene amount of candy to cover up his complete and utter incompetence.

“Hey!”

Logan flinched. He didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to see someone else, didn’t want to –

“Hey!” a rough hand pushed at his shoulder and he almost fell over, slipping on ice only for the same hand to catch his arm, whirl him around and spin him upright again.

Logan heaved a few breaths, eyes wide as he stared into golden brown eyes.

“What’s a guy gotta do to get someone’s attention, huh?” he said. He released his hold on Logan, crossing his arms and scrunching up his nose. He appeared the same age as Logan, maybe even younger, but...

“You’re in college, right?” he said, voice sharp and snarky.

“Yeah,” Logan said. “You?”

The guy shrugged. “Never made it out of highschool.”

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “What...?”

He glanced at him, and unreadable expression in his face. “Why’re you out here, man? You look like you got friends. It’s like, midnight.”

“I forgot to get them gifts, so,” Logan shrugged. “I’m getting them some.”

“Wow,” he laughed, raucous and loud. “That’s awesome. Great. Fantastic. You sound like the most wonderful friend of all.”

“Yeah, I know,” Logan said. “I gotta get to it, so...”

“Wait,” he said, reaching out but drawing back at the last moment, fingers curling in. “I... kinda know what that’s like.” He scuffed at the ground. “Not knowing what to get friends, I mean. Or...” his face twisted. “Boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends?” Logan said, blinking.

“Hold onto them,” the boy said, glancing at him and trapping him in his gaze, eyes blazing like fire. “Hold onto your friends because one day you’ll disappear.”

“You mean they’ll disappear?” Logan said, leaning back.

“Y... yeah, of course,” he said, pulling away and leaning against a tree. “Sure.”

“Um, I’ll be...”

“Wait, just...” he sighed, looking far more dejected than any teenager had business being. “Tell me about them? I miss having friends.”

“Okay, well...” Logan almost denied his request but after seeing his downcast gaze, his frustrated scuffing, he relented. “One is... one is soft and sharp at the same time, one is angry and freakishly patient, and the last is... he’s, just, he’s clever and thoughtful, and he tries so so hard to help other people but he forgets to care for himself, too, and we forget to care for him sometimes...” Logan snapped his mouth shut. Why oh why did he always start to ramble about them?

The boy’s mouth flickered into a smile before he schooled it back into a scowl. “Yeah, okay. I think I got something for the last one.”

“What are you talking about?” Logan asked, reaching into his pockets in confusion. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“It never matters if you want anything, does it?” the boy said. “Not now, anyway. This is about them.”

“I... yeah,” Logan said. “But...”

“Okay, let’s just get this over with,” he sighed and reached into his sweatshirt pocket, pulling out a gilded bracelet. “This... yeah, whatever, you’ve heard it all, yadda yadda.”

“What?” Logan said, feeling winded.

The boy shoved the bracelet in his hands. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“I’m not, I’m just...” Logan looked down at the bracelet, a golden chain with small leaves hanging off like a mini flower crown. With... leaves instead of flowers. So not really a flower crown more of a leaf crown and Logan should really, really stop thinking.

“Thanks,” Logan said, looking up. He took a step back at the complete emptiness that greeted him, but he wasn’t completely surprised, either. Somehow he knew the teenage boy would disappear, just like the old man and the little girl.

“Thanks,” Logan said again, softer. He gently placed the bracelet with his other three gifts and turned around. Undoubtedly they would be disappointed with his gifts and would have that “thanks...” tone, of subtle disappointment, but Logan couldn’t bring himself to take a trip to some capitalist department store to grab some cheap gimmick.

They would be disappointed, but at least they wouldn’t be disappointed in a cheap car charger.

He trudged home, watching his step. He heard the giggle of a girl but saw nothing when he turned, and he noticed a figure moving across the pond but when he raced through the path to the edge there was nobody there. A scoff followed him home, and Logan carefully opened the door to his dorm, peaking to see if Virgil was still awake.

Bright lights spilled across the carpet, the intro screen to Uncharted IV dancing across Virgil’s face. Virgil, however, was dead asleep, mouth hanging open and light snores falling from his mouth.

Reaching down, Logan carefully picked him up and carried him to his room, gently setting him down on the mattress and pulling the comforter. Come morning, Logan would have to drag him out of bed, and Virgil would hang off of him until they got to Roman and Patton’s room, where he would promptly hang off of Roman for the better part of the morning.

But until then... Logan had some gifts to wrap.

—

“Okay, I know I sounded like, hella ungrateful when I opened those pencils, but they’re magical or some shit, I swear to god,” Virgil said the moment Logan opened the door.

Logan froze, halfway through taking off his coat and shoes. “Oh?”

“Yeah, like,” Virgil waved around the black pencil emphatically. “I always get the color I’m trying to blend! And I used to hate coloring with colored pencil because it’s not like acrylic paints where you can test the color before blending so I always hated using colored pencils but these work like god herself crafted them.”

“Um, I’m glad,” Logan said, a grin twitching onto his lips. “I’m... I’m really glad.”

“Yes, bless these freakish colored pencils,” Virgil said reverently. “Also, Roman called me, he’s looking for you.”

“Why didn’t he just call me?” Logan asked. Virgil gave him a look. “Right, okay, he didn’t just call about me. Thanks.”

“Sure,” Virgil said, chewing on the back of the red pencil.

Logan finagled his phone out of his pocket, dropping some books on the counter in the process, and called Roman. He picked up on the third ring.

“Logan, my favorite person in the entirety of the world!” Roman greeted him.

“What do you want?” Logan asked flatly, holding the phone up with his ear and flipping open his chemistry book.

“You wound me,” Roman declared. “Insinuating I only call when I need something, that’s cruel.”

“Mmhmm,” Logan said.

“I just... wanted to let you know, or, I mean,” Roman’s voice lost the exuberance and settled into something softer. “Thanks for that wooden ball thing. Like, I thought it was the lamest thing at first, because, a wooden ball, really? But every time I’m nervous for an audition, or I don’t think I’m going to pass a test, I just... wish on it, like you told me to, and it’s like all my hard work pays off. It’s weird and there’s probably no correlation but it happens too often to be normal so I thought I’d just... thank you.”

“Oh,” Logan said. His phone almost slipped from his shoulder but he caught it before it fell too far. “Um, that’s... that’s crazy. I mean–”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Roman said, voice slipping into ramble mode. “I mean, it’s crazy, right? It shouldn’t matter, because it’s a wooden sphere, like one I could buy at Hobby Lobby, and the paint is chipped in lots of places like my mom painted it when she was seven or something, and–”

“Roman,” Logan said.

“But it’s really very great,” Roman said softly. “Thank you. And sorry for being a jerk on Christmas.”

“You weren’t a jerk, Roman,” Logan said. “Trust me. I know when you’re being a jerk.”

“Okay,” Roman said, uncertainly.

“And, you’re welcome, I’m glad it’s working so well,” Logan said, flashing back to the little girl. Your wildest dreams will come true indeed.

“Oh, and Patton’s at Crimson Valley, you should go say hi,” Roman said. “He mentioned thanking you for his gift, too, but wanted to do it in person. Said it’s more authentic?”

“O-oh, okay,” Logan said. He sat still for a few solid moments. “I mean, I was going to start studying.”

“Dude, we don’t have school, what are you doing,” Roman said, words edged with disbelief.

“I’m behind on some stuff,” Logan said, running his hands through his hair. “And I don’t want to fall behind.”

“Do you want Patton to be alone at the cafe?” Roman asked, and they both knew Logan’s answer before Logan opened his mouth.

“Of course not,” Logan said. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“Yayy!!” Roman said. “I mean, I’m not going to be there, but Patton’ll be happy.”

“I’m sure,” Logan said, sighing. “Okay, talk to you later.”

“Bye!” Roman cheered. For what, Logan couldn’t say.

The phone clicked underneath his ear and Logan resigned himself.

“I’m going out,” Logan said.

“Again?” Virgil asked.

“Yup, Patton’s alone at a cafe,” Logan said. “Roman enlisted me to keep him company.”

“Sounds like Roman,” Virgil said. “Good luck.”

“Good luck?” Logan repeated. “I’m not going into war.”

Virgil turned towards him, shifting his whole body so he could give Logan another look.

Logan rolled his eyes, shrugging his coat on. “Fair point.”

“See ya.”

“Bye.”

Logan walked steadily to the cafe, and braced himself the moment he opened the door. When he wasn’t instantly barraged by an armful of Patton, he opened his eyes.

Patton, tucked into a corner of the cafe, was quiet.

Logan walked up to him and slid into the seat opposite him. “Hey.”

“Oh, hey!” Patton said, expression instantly shifting from pensive to happy. “How are you? I wasn’t expecting you here!”

“Roman told me to come,” Logan said, and then instantly regretted it. “Um. He said something about my christmas present...?”

“Oh, this!” Patton said, lifting up his wrist to display the glittering bracelet. “I... the weirdest thing happens when I touch it. I’m just overwhelmed with this... this affection and wonder for everything, especially my friends.” Patton stared him dead in the eye. “Especially for you.”

Heat rushed to his cheeks and Logan stared pointedly at the table.

“And it’s so magical, and wonderful, that I thought I’d let you know,” Patton said, smile gentle and soft.

Logan glanced up at him, ears hot, and noted the pink dusting on Patton’s cheeks.

“Um, you’re, you’re welcome,” Logan said, coughing.

“It’s so strange,” Patton said. “All of your gifts seem so simple, but they have such a large impact.” He held the bracelet up to the light and admired the way the gold glittered in the sun. “Where did you find them?”

Logan smiled. From an old man with nostalgia, a little girl with wishes, and a teenager with hopes.

“I found them on Christmas Eve,” Logan said instead, and when Patton turned to look at him, the light shone through the window and ignited the deep browns and golds of his irises.

Something crashed, and they looked to the left. A little girl frowned at a shattered cup but laughed when someone who looked like her grandfather gave her candy and promised her another cup. A teenager rocked on his chair, pressing his feet against the table and scowling.

Patton blinked at them and giggled before turning back to Logan.

“I’m glad you love it,” Logan murmured, touching the gold of the bracelet lightly.

Patton smiled, cheeks red, and Logan grinned right back.

[emybain]

After Archenemies Part 4/?

ngl I had trouble writing this part. It’s not my favorite piece, but I think it’s necessary for the continuation and flow of the story. I like it to an extent, let’s say that. im just not the biggest fan bc there’s no action lmao. anyways, enjoy!

here’s part 1, here’s part 2, and here’s part 3

Adrian couldn't tear his eyes from the screen. They were glued on the picture of the younger Nova, a happier Nova.

“No,” he murmured. “That...that can’t be Nova. Her last name is McLain. She was taken in by her uncle. She’s...she’s not missing.” He forced himself to let go of the computer mouse. Ruby turned her gaze to him, Oscar too. Their looks were sad, filled with the same disbelief as Adrian.

Ruby reached out for Adrian’s arm, but he pulled back. “Adrian…maybe there’s an explanation and we’re just jumping to conclusions, but that,” she waved her hand at the computer screen, ”is Nova.”

Adrian knew she was right. Everything lined up. Nova lost her family to a hitman when she was six, she had had a baby sister named Evie, and the girl in the photo was undeniably her.

“Maybe Nova was kidnapped by the man she thinks is her uncle,” Oscar mused. Adrian could tell he was trying to brighten the darkened moods of the three of them. “Forced to change her last name. That would explain why we’ve never met her uncle.”

Ruby shot Oscar a look. “Well, that is an explanation, but not a very good one.”

“Just trying to help.” Oscar raised his arms in defense. After a moment, he said “What should we do? Talk to the Council?”

“No,” Adrian said before thinking twice. He felt himself blush. “I mean...not yet. We don’t know too much about any of this. They wouldn’t do anything about it. I think...I think we need to   keep doing research. For all we know, it could be a fault in the system.”

“And then?” Ruby raised an eyebrow.

Adrian took a shaky breath. “And then we talk to Nova about it.”

Oscar and Ruby exchanged glances, and Adrian was reminded of his dads and how they would give one another similar looks. They didn’t say anything, much to Adrian’s relief. He returned to his chair, his hand shaky as he reached for his mouse.

   They stayed in the library for another two hours, collecting information about what they knew about Nightmare. Adrian refused to think about Nova and what they had learned about her past. The picture of her and her sister still haunted his mind, making it hard to focus. He was able to make a list of places Nightmare was spotted at most. The majority were dated back to months ago, before she became a real threat. They were mostly hardware and convenience stores that she robbed. Adrian made a mental note to ask the store owners what she would often steal.

   When the librarian walked by for the umpteenth time, she ushered them out, insisting that they do something more fun than research since they had been there for so long.

   “Anyone up for a smoothie or something?” Oscar offered as the three of them walked down the hall, each holding notes of information. Adrian shook his head, shouldering the backpack he had brought with him.

   “You guys go ahead. I think I’m going to head home.”

   “You sure?” Oscar shot Adrian a worried look. “You going to be okay?”

   Adrian pressed a smile to his face. “Yeah. I think I need some rest, though. With everything going on lately..” he trailed off, and his friends nodded in understanding. They said their goodbyes, and Adrian watched them go. It would be good for the two of them to get some alone time, anyways. Adrian had a mission of his own.

   On his way out of HQ, Adrian peeked into Max’s quarantine. He could make out the hospital bed and the lump of blankets. In the lobby, prodigies were rebuilding and fixing the damage done by Nightmare’s fight with Frostbite’s team. Their work was faster than a normal person’s, but there was a lot of damage, and only so many prodigies with powers fit for reconstruction.

   Cold air blew at his face as he stepped outside. The weather was changing fast this year. A shame, really. Adrian liked summer the most out of all the seasons. He walked past a group of tourists that gasped when they saw him. He heard the click of a camera and ignored it.

   He immediately thought of Nova, despite trying not to, and how she had said people would be better off without the Renegades. How they either idolized or hated prodigies. Adrian remembered all the times he had come across Renegade merchandise. They were celebrities, whether they wanted to admit it or not. He shoved the thought away and pulled his jacket closer around himself.

   It was a long walk to his destination. Adrian wondered how Nova managed to do it daily, multiple times a day. He thought of all the times she had been late and had to run. Adrian shook his head. That girl never ceased to amaze him.

   Adrian didn’t know why he was going to Nova’s, especially considering the mental state he was currently in, and the fact that she told him not to stop by. He pictured the look on her face when he showed up unannounced. It wouldn’t be pretty, either. She hated surprises, after all. Maybe it would be best to text her…

   No, her uncle took away her electronics. Maybe if Adrian brought something for her and explained the situation to her uncle.

   Adrian stopped in his tracks on the sidewalk. He was walking through a small park near Nova’s neighborhood. There was a bench nearby. The park was mostly empty, so Adrian claimed the bench. He took off his backpack and set it beside him, pulling out his sketchpad and a pencil. He flipped to the most recent page. It was filled with sketches and dimensions of a ring he had drawn for Nova. he had been working on it in small bursts, especially on nights when he couldn't find sleep, which was more often than not in recent days. He had crossed out design after design, growing frustrated at the difficulty of designing  jewelry. Finally, the other night, he had come up with a design that was simple yet charming. It was a plain band with a white stone in the center, small but stately. A ring, he had come to realize, was an odd gift, but he had found resources online stating how much all girls loved rings. He disliked generalizing Nova with thousands of other girls, but the explanation he found was interesting: rings held significant meaning when given as a gift from someone the wearer cares about. Adrian had been wanting to give Nova something meaningful in the past few weeks to show how serious he was about her, but had struggled with finding something she would like. He had planned on giving it to her later, but maybe if he gave it to her now, it would brighten her mood, and give him an excuse to see her. He pulled the ring from the paper and quickly sketched a jewelry box for it. He pursed his lips, then, as an afterthought, also drew a Peony. With the ring now safe in the box and the flower clutched in his other hand, Adrian set off for Nova’s house again.

   When he reached Nova’s street, Adrian’s hands grew clammy. When her house came into sight, he gulped. He remembered the last time he had showed up unannounced at Nova’s door. He remembered how he had cried into her stomach about Max. How she had held him. How he had stayed there for what seemed to be hours until she walked him home. How she had bid him goodnight for the second time before walking herself home. How he had watched her go until she was gone, not wanting her to leave him.

   Adrian walked up the sidewalk to her front door, stepping over the overgrown grass that grew between the cracked concrete. From inside the house, he could hear voices, two to be exact. It was a man and a woman, and the woman sounded like she was crying. Adrian lowered the fist that was about to knock. His insides grew cold. What if he was at the wrong house? But no. One look at his map on his wristband told him he was at the right place. And Adrian remembered the way her house looked, as it was one of the only better kept looking houses of the street, although not by much.

   He straightened when he heard Nova’s voice, too muffled for Adrian to understand what she was saying. Feeling awkward, Adrian knocked hesitantly on the door twice. The voices inside dropped, and Adrian heard movement. A few moments later, the door clicked and swung open, revealing Nova dressed in sweatpants and a loose tank top with holes along the seams. She wore no shoes on her feet, just a pair of old socks that didn’t match. Her hair was a mess, and her eyes were bloodshot. Despite not needing to sleep, she looked exhausted. She blinked at Adrian, as if she couldn’t tell if he was real or not.

   Adrian had the absurd thought that she looked beautiful.

   “What the hell are you doing here?” she hissed after getting over her shock, shooting a quick glance over her shoulder and pushing Adrian back so she could step out onto the porch and close the door behind her.

   Adrian cleared his throat, although no words came out. He stared down at Nova, whose  expression had quickly changed to an angry one. “I...I um..I just wanted to give you something,” he finally got out, cheeks burning. “I know you told me not to stop by, but..” Unsure of what to do, Adrian held out the jewelry box and Peony. Nova looked down in surprise, mouth opening in a small ‘o’. Her face softened.

   She took the box with two fingers and looked back up at Adrian. “Do you…” she licked her lips, drawing his attention to them. “Do you want me to open it now?”

   Adrian scratched the back of his neck, eyes staring a hole into the ground. “Um...sure. If you want, that is. I don’t want to pressure you to do anything you don’t want to because-”

   “Okay, I’ll open it.” Nova reached out her free hand to nudge Adrian’s chin. When he met her eyes again, they were a bit brighter than before. Some color had returned to her face. Adrian watched her open the box, bit his cheek as her mouth fell open again.

   “Adrian...this is…”

   “I wanted to get you a gift,” Adrian explained. His throat had gone dry. “For um...to prove that my feelings for you are very, very real. And they’ve only grown more in the past few weeks. I guess this is also a thank you gift for being there for me through this whole Nightmare and Max stuff? If you don’t like it, I understand, it’s just-”

   Nova interrupted him again by silencing him with her lips. She reached behind his neck and pulled him down to her height. He dropped the Peony and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. She gasped, and the heat from her lips drove him crazy. He pushed her back until she was against the door, bathing in her touch and taste and scent as they kissed. He reached up and curled his hand in her hair. She responded with the softest moan, pushing closer to him.

   A photo of a younger Nova holding an infant flashed through his head, and his eyes shot open. Nova continued to kiss him, and he responded, half-distracted. He forced his eyes closed again, forced himself to enjoy being so close to Nova. He kissed her harder, and she breathed his name against his lips, sending a shiver up his arms. He didn’t want to think about what Ruby had showed him earlier that day. Maybe he was making a mistake, but he wanted to believe that it was all a big misunderstanding, and that Nova was who she said she was. He wanted to believe that he was falling for someone that wasn’t keeping secrets. He told himself he would figure it out, but not now. Not when he had started to climb over the walls of Nova’s heart, or so he believed.

He could go on kissing her forever. All of their kisses were more amazing than the last. But eventually, they had to pull apart for air, much to his dismay.

   “I love it,” Nova murmured, pressing a shaky peck to the corner of his mouth. “Thank you, Adrian. I...no one has ever given me a gift like this.”

   “I thought you would need something to cheer you up.” Adrian cupped her cheek, and when they kissed again, it was much more gentle and relaxed. Adrian allowed himself to just hold her in that moment, savoring every soft caress of her lips against his.

   A large bang followed by a crash came from inside, causing Nova to pull back and squirm out of Adrian’s arms. She looked back at the door, anger and conflict spread across her features. She turned back to Adrian, and the look softened.

   “You should go.” She started to push him gently off the porch, although Adrian refused to move.

   “Is everything alright in there?” He looked at the closed door. A movement caught his eye, and he tore his eyes to one of the windows just in time to see a curtain close and a flash of gold.

   “Um...yeah!” Nova shook her head, but Adrian wasn’t convinced. He thought back to the crying voice he had heard before. “My uncle has a um….a client over. One of his new ideas.” She laughed nervously and tried to push Adrian back again.

   “I thought he didn’t let people over when you’re sick.” Adrian raised a suspicious eyebrow.

   “Well...yeah.” Nova bit her lip. “My friends. He can have guests over as long as I stay up in my room.” That didn’t explain why Adrian had heard her voice prior to him knocking on the door. He shook his head. Surely there was a reasonable explanation, but clearly Nova didn’t want to share it with him for whatever reason.

   “Um...okay then. Can I at least ask how you’re feeling?” He crossed his arms.

   Nova shot him a reassuring smile and pushed him again. This time, he allowed for her to lead him off the porch and onto the sidewalk. “Better because of you.” She reached up and kissed his cheek quickly. “Now, please leave if you want to live.” Her voice was light, but Adrian had an unnerving feeling that she wasn’t lying.

   She turned to go back inside; Adrian grabbed her hand, swiveling her back to face him.

   “Adrian, I’m serious,” she said, and he could tell from her tone that she meant it. “You need to leave.”

   “I know, but…” He stumbled over his words then, forcing out what he had been wanting to say for weeks now. “Wiyoubemgirfriend?”

   She blinked. “What?”

   Adrian took a shaky breath. His cheeks were on fire. “Will you be my girlfriend?” he got out slowly.

   Nova’s cheeks brightened, and not from being sick. “Oh, um...was I not before?”

   Adrian cracked a smile, shoulders relaxing slightly. “I just...wanted to ask. Officially. While I’m here.”

   He didn’t get an answer immediately, which sent him into a panic again. His palm in her hand felt sweaty. He resisted the urge to pull back and wipe it on his jeans.

   “Yeah,” she murmured, then stated louder, “Yeah. Um...totally.” She nodded and smiled genuinely up at him, and he returned it.

   “Great. Awesome.” He leaned down and gave her one last kiss. “Get some rest,” he told her, which she responded with an eye roll and a snort. “I’m serious. Now get inside.”

   “Bye, Adrian.” Nova squeezed his hand and let it go. “And thank you...for the um...the ring. I really do love it.”

   Adrian waited until she was inside the house and he heard the clicking of a lock before turning and making his way home.

   His communicator band buzzed. Odd, he didn’t think his team had anything going on.

   It was from Simon.

   Need you home right away.

   Adrian froze on the sidewalk. He never, never got texts from either of his dads, as it was an unprofessional use of the issued communicator bands.

   Adrian sprinted home.

   Nova closed the door behind her and leaned back, holding her head in her hands. Yeah? Totally? Great skies, she sounded like some lovestruck teenager.

   Which she was not.

   Adrian Everhart was her enemy, and while she admitted to being more than just attracted to him, she had been trying to kill her feelings over the last few weeks. With Ace in the hands of the Renegades, it was dangerous to like Adrian Everhart. No, she had to stop her feelings for him, no matter how much it hurt.

   She thought she had been doing good until he decided to show up unannounced and kiss her.

   Well, she kissed him, technically, but it was his fault. He made her do it.

   And Nova would not think about how it felt to be pinned between him and the door while he held her as if she were all that mattered in the world to him. She would not think about how he kissed her, and how much it made her insides turn to jelly.

   She looked down at the ring that she had put on her middle finger, on the same hand as the bracelet from her dad. She let the jewelry box fall to the ground as she admired it. Honey’s words floated through her head then.

   “They can offer you notoriety and a fancy pair of boots. They might even give you pretty gems like that bauble on your wrist.”

   “What did your little boyfriend want?” Nova looked up to see Leroy walking into the room from the kitchen. Honey followed behind him, and there was a smug look covering the tear streaks on her face. She had been crying over Ace before Adrian knocked on the door, as she tended to do multiple times a week.

   Nova blushed. “He’s not-” but she stopped herself, Because he was, at least technically. She agreed to make their relationship official, at least in the eyes of the Renegades and the public.

   “Looks like I taught you well.” Honey sat down on the torn and rat-chewed couch in the living room. She curled a finger around her golden locks, shooting Nova a coy look. “You two had me weak in the knees. You looked like two lovers on a soap opera. It really is a shame he’s a Renegade.” She sighed. “At least you can have some fun with him, right?” At Nova’s appalled expression, she cackled. “Young love,” Honey teased with a roll of her eyes.

   “You-you were...watching us?” Nova felt violated, disgusted. Not that her relationship with Adrian was real, so anything they did wasn’t genuine. What did it matter that Honey and Leroy had seen her rather hand-fanning-face short make out session with her fake boyfriend while she was in sweats?

   “Well someone had to pull you apart.” Honey examined her nails, sniffling from her previous breakdown. Nova thought of the crash from before that made her and Adrian jump apart.

   “That was you?” Nova crossed her arms. She was a little peeved at Honey. First watching them, and then being the cause for them to stop kissing.

   “Enough, Honey Harper,” Leroy said sternly. Nova was about to thank him until he continued. “Let’s just hope Insomnia didn’t get her Renegade sick with that cold of hers.” He cracked a wry smile, and Honey burst into giggles.

   Nova pushed past them. “If neither of you are going to take this seriously, then I’m going to grab my stuff and go to HQ.”

   “Take what seriously, sweetie pie?” Honey gasped, unable to stop her laughter. “Your love life?”

   Nova stopped at the staircase and turned back around to face them. There was amusement on both their faces. The hard set of Nova’s jaw loosened. It had been so long since she had seen them give a genuine smile. Not since Ace was captured. She took a deep breath and released it.

   “Ace,” Nova said quietly. “Remember what we were talking about before A-the Renegade showed up?”

   Honey stopped laughing. She wiped at her face, as if remembering she still had dried tears sticking to her cheeks.

   “Yes, you’re right.” Leroy took a seat next to Honey, taking his time to get settled. Nova realized as she watched him how his age was catching up to him. He and Honey both, although Honey was more discreet about it. Still, Nova had noticed how Honey took her time getting to bed every night. Nova noticed the way Honey winced when lying down.

   The Anarchists were weakening. Their numbers were small, allies were short, and bodies weren’t the same as they were a decade before. All except Nova, who was young and energetic.

    They needed to act quickly.

   “We know he’s in Cragmoor, so there’s a very low chance we would even be able to get past the security. Not even my chemicals could get us very far.” Nova nodded her head at Leroy. They had established that already. Breaking into the prison that held prodigy criminals was a death sentence. They would only succeed in wiping out their numbers completely.

   An idea popped into Nova’s head. Something Adrian had said the last time he was at her house. The night of the gala. After Max…

   “What about when they make a public event out of neutralizing him? When he’s back in the city?” Nova asked. She didn’t want to think about Max. Not when he was still sitting in a hospital bed because of her.

   “That’s risky, Nova,” Leroy warned.

   Nova sighed. “I know, but what if-”

   “Don’t you remember the parade?” Honey snapped, standing up quickly. Fresh tears had brewed in her eyes and were threatening to fall. “You didn’t succeed then.”

Nova took a step back. She had lived with Honey long enough to know when to back off.

“Well, Winston didn’t exactly help,” she muttered.

“You still missed your target, Winston being there or not.” Honey crossed her arms. Nova mirrored the older woman.

“I could go to the event as Nightmare. Hide in the shadows. I could shoot Captain Chromium with an Agent N dart.”

“Nova, that would only reveal your position,” Leroy pointed out.

“Can I finish?” Nova narrowed her eyes at them. When neither spoke, she nodded. “Thank you.

“As I was saying, I could shoot the Captain. Everyone would go into a panic, whether I hit him or not. While everyone’s distracted, you two and Phobia can help Ace escape, and I can throw a few Agent N bombs into the crowd. Get rid of some Renegades.” The last bit made Nova’s stomach queasy, but what choice did she have? The Renegades were the enemy. They had created Agent N. It would be ironic to lose their powers to their own weapon, just like Frostbite’s team.

“That’s a lot of assuming.” Leroy stroked his chin thoughtfully. “And a lot of open holes for things to go wrong.”

“But what choice do we have, Leroy?” Nova leaned against the stair rail. “We can’t just let Ace rot away.”

Leroy sat in silence for a moment. Then, he got up suddenly and made his way to the kitchen. He waved for Nova to follow him.

“I’ve been studying his helmet.” Leroy explained when both Nova and Honey were in the room. He went to one of the cabinets and opened it. Inside, covered with fabric, was Ace’s helmet. “Back in the Age of Anarchy, Ace never let anyone touch his helmet.” He set it on the countertop. “I had always been curious of its elements and what made it so...special.”

Nova examined the helmet. It looked the same as it did the night when she had stolen it from headquarters. Her bracelet vibrated at her wrist, and she brought it up. It pulled towards the helmet.

Leroy hummed. “Very interesting. David’s pieces always worked in mysterious ways.”

Nova tugged her wrist back down, ignoring the buzz of energy from the bracelet. “What do you mean?”

“The helmet,” Leroy explained, “has special powers. When your father made it, he used metals that would enhance the wearer’s powers. Make them stronger. It explains why Ace could do what no telekinetic prodigy could do before him.”

“That doesn’t explain the bracelet.” Although Nova had an idea, and she didn’t like it.

“Your bracelet appears to be made of the same material.” Leroy took a step towards her and held out his hand. “May I see it?”

Hesitantly, Nova slipped off her bracelet and handed it to Leroy, who took it over to his microscope sitting among his temporary mess of a laboratory. It only took a moment of examining for him to nod and hand the bracelet back to Nova. She put it back around her wrist, feeling comfort in its presence.

“Just as I suspected.” Leroy sat in one of the kitchen chairs, sighing. “Although I can’t figure out that gem. What was it you said about it?”

Nova shrugged. “Some Renegade said it was worth a lot, but she’s a thief anyways. Anything to her is valuable.”

Honey tittered. “A thieving Renegade? How interesting.”

Leroy nodded. “Quite. If the Renegades aren’t as good as they make themselves out to be, I bet we could draw some over to our side.”

Nova thought of little Magpie, angry but still so young. She wasn’t much younger when she was taken in by Ace. By the time she had reached Magpie’s age, she had been robbed of a proper childhood, already exposed to the cruel world and bitter because of the unfairness of it all. She wouldn’t wish that life upon anyone, even on an unhappy Renegade such as Magpie who was forced to become a Renegade just as much as Nova was forced to become an Anarchist. “She’s just a child,” Nova explained. “Highly unlikely to persuade her when she hardly knows what persuasion is.”

“But if there’s one, there’s many, little Nightmare.” Honey rubbed her hands together. A bumblebee buzzed around her hair lazily.

“Back to the helmet.” Leroy cleared his throat, drawing their attention to him. “Your bracelet holds the same properties as it. Now, because it is much, much smaller, it only enhances your power a bit. Not near as much as the helmet would give.”

“So what are you suggesting, Leroy?”

Leroy held the helmet in one hand, weighing it in his palm. “I’m suggesting, little Insomnia, that you use it.”