#so i thought i might try my hand at doing a piece for each member of our group and gift it to them next con

[16th-of-a-twigg]

🧚‍♀️🧵

Ko-Fi

[buckets-and-trees]

I’d like to point out this man’s insane hotness🥵

Also… imagine needing a place to sit and Bucky tells you to sit on his lap😍

I've been sitting on this one for ages, Shannon, I'm sorry! But I was waiting for a storyline that truly swept me away because this look and the potential for this moment couldn't be squandered if I was going to take a stab at it...

Poison Blood from the Wound of the Pricked Hand

Characters/Pairings: Post TFATWS!Bucky x curvy!Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 3k Summary: You've made a life-altering decision, and even though it feels like the only choice you could have made, you hope it's the right one, and you hope the man you're being forced to rely on tonight will help you accomplish what you need to, or else your life could be at stake - not to mention the safety of so many others.

Content/Warnings: intense physical intimicy, but no actual smut (I know, shocker)

Author Notes: Possibly the last piece for the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend! And, yes late, but the final piece to complete out my collection for @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer - week twelve "what should I wear?"

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

“How are things going in there?” Bucky called loudly to you.

“Um…” There was a long pause, before you called back, “Fine.”

You glanced at the clock.

You knew at this rate you were going to make the two of you late. But that only ate at you more. You weren’t trying to cause problems.

Or, rather, you weren’t trying to cause more problems. You already felt like a walking liability.

All you had tried to do was get out of the danger of your brother’s organization.

You had finally gone to the authorities, looking to make some kind of deal for safety, maybe witness protection, you didn’t know exactly how these things worked, only that you had to leave.

But evidently things had been even worse and more complicated than you knew, and the price for safety had come with strings.

They needed more information, and they saw you as a means to be able to get it.

And so they’d dangled a deal that required you to play your part as a trusted member of the family one more time.

You had only been gone for just over twenty-four hours, so it wasn’t likely that your brother would suspect your defection yet. But it was so recent that you still felt unsettled over whether you’d made the right decision - especially now that it wasn’t a clean break and you were being used be the people you expected to be the good guys.

“Are you sure?” Bucky’s voice broke through your thoughts again.

You shook your head. Since he was in the other room, there was no danger in him seeing your doubt and uncertainty.

Of all the moving parts in this scheme, Bucky was possibly the only piece you thought you might be able to trust. His reputation preceded him as someone more than capable of handling any dangerous situation, but he also seemed to harbor a question in his mind over working this operation and trusting the government agencies who had a hand in this.

You sighed, then bit your lip. The clock ticked relentlessly, each second a reminder of your indecision. Your eyes darted between two outfits laid out on the bed, both chosen with care but now seeming woefully inadequate for the task ahead.

You sighed, your eyes darting between the two outfits laid out on the bed. One was a sleek black dress, form-fitting and elegant, with a high neckline and long sleeves that would conceal the nervous goosebumps prickling your skin. The other, a tailored pantsuit in deep navy, exuded an air of professionalism and confidence you wished you felt.

Both outfits were carefully chosen to blend in at the high-stakes charity gala where you'd be making your reappearance in your brother's world. But which one would better sell the lie? Which one would make you look like you hadn't just betrayed everything you'd ever known?

You ran your fingers over the cool silk of the dress, then the crisp wool of the suit jacket. The clock's incessant ticking seemed to grow louder with each passing moment, mocking your indecision.

You needed to look like your old self, the trusted sister, and you’d worn clothes just like these a hundred times before. But now?

And with the added caveat of needing to have a brand new man on your arm and sell that he was a valid new part of your life, too?

You grabbed both hangers and went out into the living room of your apartment where Bucky had been patiently waiting for you.

Bucky's eyes widened slightly as you emerged from the bedroom, clothes in hand. He was sitting on the couch, hands in his lap, already dressed in a sharp looking suit with leather lapels - edgy but impressive. For a moment, you were struck by how different he looked from the dangerous operative turned superhero you knew him to be. He looked like he could effortlessly blend into the opulent setting you expected tonight.

"I can't decide," you admitted, your voice hesitant. "Which one do you think would be more… convincing?"

Bucky's gaze flickered between the two outfits, then back to your face. His expression softened, and you saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes.

"The dress," he said after a moment. "It's more in line with what you'd typically wear to these events, right? We don't want to raise any suspicions by changing your style too drastically."

You nodded, grateful for his insight. "You're right. Thank you."

As you turned to go back to the bedroom, Bucky's voice stopped you. "Hey," he said softly, his blue eyes searching your face. "We don't have to do this if you're not ready."

For a moment, you were tempted to take the out he was offering. To tell him you couldn't go through with it, that you'd made a mistake. But then you thought of your brother, of all the people he'd hurt, and you steeled yourself.

"No, I can do this. Besides,” you thought of all the things you’d learned in different meetings and conversations and reports today, “this is our best chance to get the information we need to bring him and the rest of the organization down.”

“But it doesn’t have to be you,” he insisted.

You tilted your head and smiled sadly. “But it should be.” They had been planning to try and infiltrate tonight’s gala before you had presented yourself, but with you, you were practically a golden ticket into the event and into so many more of the areas once inside.

Bucky nodded, a mix of admiration and concern in his eyes. "Alright. But remember, I'll be right there with you the whole time. If anything feels off, just give me the signal and we're out of there."

You nodded, grateful for his reassurance. As you headed back to the bedroom to change, you couldn't help but wonder how convincing you and Bucky would be as a couple. You'd only known each other for a day, and while he seemed kind and protective, there was still so much mystery surrounding him.

As you undressed, you tried to calm your racing thoughts. You'd been to countless events like this before, schmoozing with the elite and corrupt. But never as a double agent, never with the weight of so many lives hanging in the balance, and certainly not since discovering the secret that had shattered your world and opened up your eyes to the fact that everything your brother was involved in was corrupt and dangerous.

As you slipped into the black dress, you couldn't help but feel like you were putting on armor for battle. The silk clung to your skin, cool and familiar, yet somehow foreign now. You zipped it up, fingered the neckline, then pressed your hand to your heart and took a deep breath.

In the mirror, you saw the woman you used to be—poised, elegant, the perfect sister to a powerful man. But your eyes betrayed you, filled with a storm of emotions you'd have to learn to hide in the next few minutes.

You applied your makeup with practiced precision, each stroke of mascara and swipe of lipstick another layer of protection, of disguise. Once satisfied with your appearance, you squared your shoulders, and put the lipstick in your clutch.

You emerged from the bedroom, smoothing down the fabric of your dress. “I’m ready.”

Bucky’s eyes roamed over you appreciatively, and you felt something pool in your stomach - the attraction to this man you’d been trying to ignore since you’d been introduced to him early this morning. You could not have a crush on this man who was supposed to infiltrate your brother’s organization with you, steal information, and try and get both of you out safely.

It would be too much of a distraction.

Bucky's lips quirked into a small smile.

“What?” you asked, suspicious.

“You forgot your shoes,” he said simply.

You looked down and sighed.

“Nervous?” he asked, his tone kind, soft.

"Bucky," you said, looking back at him, "how are we supposed to explain your presence? Won't my brother be suspicious of a new man in my life?"

"We've got a cover story. I'm a potential new investor in your brother's 'business ventures.' You met me at a networking event last week and thought I'd be a good fit for tonight's gala."

You raised an eyebrow. "And you just happened to sweep me off my feet?”

"Something like that," Bucky replied with a roguish smile. "We'll keep it vague - a whirlwind romance, sparks flying. Your brother will be more focused on the potential investment than on our relationship."

You nodded, trying to quell the butterflies in your stomach. It wasn't just nerves about the mission now; the idea of pretending to be swept off your feet by Bucky wasn't entirely unpleasant.

"Right," you said, forcing yourself to focus. "I'll just go grab those shoes."

You hurried back to the bedroom, slipping on a pair of elegant black heels. As you turned to leave, your eyes fell on a framed photo on the nightstand - you and your brother at last year's gala, both smiling widely. Your stomach churned. How had you been so blind?

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the guilt down and away. You needed to do this. There was no other path in your mind now that you knew the truth. Your eyes flicked from the frame to the luggage packed next to your door. When you’d left yesterday, you hadn’t taken anything with you, not wanting to draw suspicion. With this return to your place and the cover of being swept into something with Bucky, it gave you the cover to pack some of your things - luggage that was being picked up and taken care of for you by one of this “rich investor’s” staff to go with you on a two-week vacation to a private island in the Phillippines. It was a perfect cover, provided you could sell it.

He was so handsome, with his dark hair styled perfectly and his strong jawline. Still sitting on the couch, he radiated confidence and charm, making it easy to see why he was chosen for this mission. You couldn't help but feel slightly nervous under his intense gaze.

Bucky's eyes flicked over your ensemble. "You look beautiful," he said, his voice low and husky.

Your heart skipped a beat at the compliment, feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny. "Thank you," you replied shyly.

You’d been so worried about all the other logistics of tonight, you hadn’t thought about the believability of you and Bucky until now.

“Come here,” he said, holding a hand out to you. You crossed the room and took it, gasping as he pulled you down to sit across his lap.

“Bucky,” you protested, insecure about sitting all of your plus-sized body in his lap. You had never been comfortable with your few previous partners in this situation, but he pressed one cool vibranium finger to your lips, while his other hand moved softly up and down your back.

“Don’t be nervous,” he whispered. “You’ll need to look comfortable around me when I touch you, and if your brother is going to believe you’ve agreed to go away with me tonight, I can’t touch you for the first time while we’re there.”

You nodded. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you shivered.

You felt a flush creep up your neck as Bucky's lips brushed your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, but you could feel the strength in his arms as he held you. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself further. He seemed unconcerned, even happy to hold all of you, and the contrast between his warm flesh hand and the cool metal of his other arm sent tingles down your spine.

"Is this okay?" he murmured against your skin, his breath hot on your neck.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. Your heart was racing, and you weren't sure if it was from nerves about the mission or the proximity of this dangerously attractive man.

Bucky's hand traced lazy circles on your back, and you found yourself relaxing into his touch despite your better judgment. "We need to look natural together," he explained softly. "Like we can't keep our hands off each other. It'll sell the whirlwind romance angle."

You swallowed hard, trying keep it together.

Bucky's hand continued its soothing motion up and down your back, and you found yourself leaning into his touch despite your better judgment.

"Tell me more about your brother," Bucky said softly. "What should I expect?"

You tensed slightly at the mention of your brother, but Bucky's steady presence kept you grounded. "He's… charming," you began, choosing your words carefully. "Charismatic. He can make anyone feel like the most important person in the room. But there's always an agenda behind it."

Bucky nodded, his fingers still tracing patterns on your back. "And how does he usually react to you bringing someone new around?"

You sighed, leaning your head against Bucky's shoulder. "He's protective. Suspicious. I haven’t brought many men around. He'll probably try to get you alone, size you up."

"I can handle that," Bucky assured you, his voice low and confident.

You lifted your head to look at him, suddenly struck by how close your faces were. His blue eyes were intense, searching yours. "Bucky," you whispered, "what if I can't pull this off?"

His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly across your skin. "We will," he said firmly. It didn’t escape your notice that he’d said we, not allowing you to feel alone. "You're stronger than you think, and I've got your back.”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Underneath that charm, he's calculating. Always looking for an angle, a way to use people. And he's dangerous when he feels threatened."

Before, you hadn’t questioned his cold side, thought it to usually be warranted, protective of you and the family and his organization. But now you knew better, illusion shattered.

Bucky nodded, his expression grave. "I'll be on high alert," he assured you. "We'll have to make sure he sees me as an asset, not a threat. But remember, we're not there to confront him tonight. Just to gather information."

"Right," you said, trying to calm your racing heart. "Just information."

Bucky's hand resumed landed on your thigh, and he squeezed reassuringly. You put your hand over his.

"Good," he murmured, eyes dropping down to your coupled hands. "That's the kind of reaction we need."

You nodded, trying to focus on the mission, on the act you needed to sell. But it was becoming increasingly difficult with Bucky's strong arm around you, his warm breath on your neck.

"We should practice," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "What if... what if we need to kiss?"

Bucky's eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and something darker, more intense. "Are you sure?"

You nodded, your heart racing. "We need to be convincing, right?"

Without another word, Bucky's hand slid to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. His lips met yours, soft at first, then with growing intensity. You melted into the kiss, your hands instinctively moving to his chest. The stubble on his jaw scratched lightly against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

For a moment, you forgot about the mission, about your brother, about everything except the feel of Bucky's lips on yours. It felt electric, a spark of something real amidst all the deception you were about to undertake. His metal arm tightened around your waist, and you gasped softly into his mouth.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Bucky's eyes were dark with desire. "That was..." he started, then cleared his throat. "That should be convincing enough.”

You nodded, unable to form words. The kiss had felt all too real, and you were struggling to remind yourself that this was just part of the act. You couldn't afford to develop real feelings for Bucky, not with everything at stake.

"We should go," you managed to say, glancing at the clock. "We don't want to be late."

Bucky nodded, but neither of you moved.

Then you leaned in and kissed him again. He returned your kiss, metal arm pulling you even closer. Your hands tangled into his hair, and you shifted in his lap so you could press your chest flush against his.

"We really should go," you murmured against Bucky's lips when you had to break off for another breath, but made no move to pull away.

He hummed in agreement, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. You melted into him, all thoughts of the mission momentarily forgotten. There was only the warmth of his body, the softness of his lips, the gentle scrape of his stubble against your skin.

Your hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the strength coiled beneath his suit jacket. Bucky's flesh hand slid from your hair down your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps. You gasped softly at the contact, and he took the opportunity to trace your lower lip with his tongue. Heat pooled in your stomach as you parted your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss further.

His vibrainum hand continued its exploration down your body, while his warm, flesh hand stayed at the small of your back, anchoring you. You lost yourself in the sensation, forgetting for a moment about the dangerous mission ahead. Bucky's kisses were intoxicating, making you dizzy with desire. His metal hand traced the curve of your hip, sending shivers through your body.

Suddenly, the sharp ring of a phone cut through the haze of passion. You jerked away from Bucky, reality crashing back. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a sleek black device.

"It's time," he said, his voice husky. "The car's waiting downstairs."

You nodded, trying to catch your breath and calm your racing heart. As you stood up from his lap, you smoothed down your dress, acutely aware of how close you'd come to losing control.

Bucky rose as well, adjusting his tie and running a hand through his slightly mussed hair. His eyes met yours, filled with…

Filled with what, you weren’t sure.

If you made it out tonight, maybe you might have a chance to find out.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Read more stories from the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend!

👀

What do we think? Do we want to see more of them?

I think this could be a post-TFATWS and pre-Thunderbolts kind of thing maybe. idk.

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[callsigns-haze]

You knew? Part 1 of 3

Pairing: Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader! Callsign Ace

Chapter Summary: In a clever setup orchestrated by Hangman and Phoenix, Rooster and Ace, two colleagues with a tense relationship, unknowingly begin exchanging flirtatious emails under anonymous identities. As they bond over shared work frustrations, they eventually realize they’ve been emailing each other all along. The discovery leads to frustration and anger, particularly from Ace, who feels betrayed by Hangman’s manipulation. The revelation complicates their already strained relationship.

Warning: This story includes themes of manipulation and workplace tension, leading to conflicts and personal revelations.

The sun beat down on NAS North Island as jets roared across the sky, the rhythmic hum of engines echoing throughout the base. Inside the hangar, pilots and crew members moved with practiced ease, their chatter blending with the distant sound of drills.

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw sat on a bench in the locker room, his flight suit unzipped to his waist. He absentmindedly ran a hand through his tousled hair, his thoughts far from the noise around him. Lately, a gnawing sense of loneliness had settled in, one he couldn't quite shake.

Just as he was lost in thought, the door swung open with a bang. Natasha "Phoenix" Trace rushed in, her boots skidding slightly on the polished floor. There was a determined look in her eyes, one Rooster knew all too well—she was on a mission.

"Rooster, got a minute?" she asked, barely giving him time to respond before thrusting a crumpled piece of paper into his hand.

He frowned, unfolding the note to reveal an email address scrawled in neat handwriting. Confusion crossed his face as he looked up at Phoenix. "What's this?"

"An email address," Phoenix replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I know you can be slow sometimes, but I didn’t think I’d have to explain that part."

Rooster rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face. "I can see that. But whose?"

Phoenix crossed her arms, her expression turning serious. "Listen, I’ve seen you moping around here, and frankly, it’s pathetic. You're my best friend, and I hate seeing you like this. So, I talked to a friend of mine—a good one—and got her email for you. The only rule is, you can’t ask her name. And she won’t ask for yours either."

Rooster blinked, taken aback. "You’re setting me up? Since when did you become a matchmaker?"

"Since you started acting like a lovesick puppy," Phoenix shot back, her tone teasing but her eyes sincere. "Look, just email her. No expectations, no pressure. Just talk. See where it goes."

Rooster glanced down at the email again, something about the mystery of it intriguing him. He’d never done anything like this before, and maybe that was exactly why he should give it a try.

"Alright," he finally said, tucking the paper into his pocket. "I’ll do it. But if this turns out to be some weird prank, I’m coming after you."

Phoenix laughed, the tension easing between them. "Trust me, Rooster. You might actually thank me for this one. Just don’t try to figure out who she is. Let it happen."

As Rooster watched her leave, he felt a strange mix of anticipation and curiosity. Maybe this was what he needed after all—a chance to connect with someone new, without the weight of the past hanging over him.

Across the base, in another part of the hangar, Y/N Y/L/N, known by her call sign "Ace," was finishing up a maintenance check on her jet. She wiped the sweat from her brow, satisfied with the day's work, when Jake "Hangman" Seresin approached her, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

"Hey, Ace," he called out, waving a folded piece of paper in the air as he jogged over.

She raised an eyebrow, instantly suspicious. "What’s with the look, Seresin?"

He handed her the paper with a flourish, like he was presenting her with a winning lottery ticket. "Just a little something I thought you might appreciate. It’s an email address."

Ace unfolded the paper, eyeing the email address written there. "Whose is it?"

"That’s the fun part," Hangman replied, leaning against the jet with a smirk. "I know you’ve been keeping to yourself lately, and I figured you could use a distraction. So, I talked to a buddy of mine and got you this. The only rule is, you can’t ask him who he is, and he can’t ask about you. Just email him. See what happens."

Ace looked at the email address again, her curiosity piqued despite herself. "You’re serious?"

"Dead serious," Hangman said, his voice uncharacteristically sincere. "No games, no strings. Just an honest chance to connect with someone. What do you say?"

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, folding the paper and slipping it into her pocket. "Alright, I’ll give it a shot. But if this is your idea of a joke, Seresin, I’m not going to be happy."

Hangman laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Scout’s honour, Ace. I think you’ll like this one."

As he walked away, Ace couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement. The anonymity of it, the chance to talk to someone without the usual baggage—it was intriguing. Maybe, just maybe, this was the kind of surprise she needed.

---

The day was winding down as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the base. The roar of jet engines had softened, leaving a quieter hum in the air.

Ace, tired but satisfied with the day’s work, was making her way out of the hangar. She was eager to get home, her mind already turning over what she might say in that first email to the mysterious address Hangman had given her.

As she rounded a corner, focused more on her thoughts than on where she was going, she collided hard with someone coming the other way. The impact jolted her back to reality, and she instinctively gripped her helmet tighter to avoid dropping it.

"Watch where you’re going!" she snapped, the words flying out before she even registered who she’d bumped into.

Rooster, equally caught off guard, scowled as he steadied himself. "Maybe you should try not walking around with your head in the clouds," he shot back, his tone sharp.

Ace narrowed her eyes at him, irritation bubbling up immediately. Rooster was the last person she wanted to deal with right now. Their relationship had always been rocky—too much ego and too many unresolved tensions.

"You’re one to talk," she muttered, brushing past him. "I’m surprised you didn’t trip over your own ego on the way here."

Rooster rolled his eyes, not willing to let it slide. "Yeah, well, at least I don’t need to be constantly reminded which way is up."

They glared at each other for a moment longer before Ace turned on her heel and stormed off, leaving Rooster behind with a bitter taste in his mouth. As she walked away, she could feel the tension still crackling in the air, but she refused to let it ruin her evening.

From across the hangar, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace and Jake "Hangman" Seresin watched the interaction unfold, exchanging worried glances. They had been casually chatting when they noticed their two targets—Ace and Rooster—heading straight for each other. Now, as they observed the icy exchange, Phoenix let out a sigh.

"Well, that went about as well as a mid-air collision," she murmured, shaking her head.

Hangman chuckled nervously, though his usual confidence was tinged with doubt. "Yeah, I’m starting to think this might have been a bad idea. They can barely be in the same room without biting each other’s heads off."

Phoenix crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Maybe… or maybe this is exactly what they need. You know how it is—sometimes the people who push each other’s buttons the most are the ones who end up surprising you."

Hangman shrugged, though he still looked uncertain. "I hope you’re right, because if this backfires, we’re both going to hear about it for the rest of our lives."

Phoenix smirked, her confidence returning. "Trust me, Hangman. We’ve seen stranger things happen around here."

-

Ace slid into the driver’s seat of her car, tossing her helmet onto the passenger seat with a frustrated huff. The encounter with Rooster still lingered in her mind, but she wasn’t going to let it bother her. Not tonight.

She pulled out the crumpled piece of paper with the email address, staring at it for a moment before finally unlocking her phone. With a deep breath, she opened a new message and began typing, her fingers moving more quickly as she decided what to say.

Hey there, she started, keeping it simple. I’m not sure how this whole thing is supposed to work, but I guess we’re both in the same boat. So, here’s to whatever comes next.

She hesitated for a moment, then hit send before she could second-guess herself. Leaning back in her seat, she let out a slow breath, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and nerves.

-

Back at his apartment, Rooster had just kicked off his boots and was settling in when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his eyebrows lifting in surprise when he saw a new email notification.

Curious, he opened it and read the message, a grin slowly spreading across his face. The casual tone, the uncertainty—it was refreshing. Whoever this person was, they weren’t overthinking it, and he liked that.

Hey yourself, he typed back, his mood lightening as he responded. I’m not sure how this is supposed to go either, but I’m game to find out. Let’s see where this takes us.

He hit send, feeling a flicker of excitement. There was something fun about the anonymity of it all—no names, no faces, just two people connecting through words.

As he leaned back, waiting to see if they’d reply, he had no idea that the person on the other end was the very same pilot he’d just butted heads with. And for now, maybe that was for the best.

-

ACE’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Ace sat on her couch, feet tucked underneath her as she scrolled through her emails. The mystery contact had quickly become the highlight of her evening, a welcome distraction from the routine of her day. She opened his latest email with a sense of anticipation.

Hey yourself, it began. I’m not sure how this is supposed to go either, but I’m game to find out. Let’s see where this takes us.

She couldn’t help but smile. There was something refreshing about this—no expectations, no judgments, just a conversation. She quickly typed a response.

Well, I guess we’re both in uncharted territory here. So, let’s start simple—how was your day?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rooster kicked back on his couch, his phone in hand. The quiet of his apartment felt more bearable with the company of his mystery emailer. When her reply came through, he read it with a growing interest.

Pretty standard—flew a few maneuvers, avoided crashing into anyone, and had a less-than-pleasant encounter with someone who seems to think they own the sky. You?

He chuckled to himself before typing back.

Sounds like a typical day in our line of work. As for me, I spent most of my day fixing things up and trying not to lose my patience with a certain someone who seems to thrive on pushing my buttons.

ACE’S APARTMENT - SAME NIGHT

Ace read his email and felt a spark of curiosity. The way he talked about his day sounded oddly familiar, like they might have more in common than she’d initially thought. She responded with a hint of playfulness.

Fixing things up? Sounds like we might work in the same field. My day involved some pretty similar frustrations—mostly with equipment, though a few people came close. What’s the most interesting part of your job?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - SAME NIGHT

Rooster raised an eyebrow as he read her reply. Was it possible they worked in the same industry? The thought intrigued him, but he decided to keep it vague.

The most interesting part? Probably the high-stakes situations. There’s nothing quite like the rush you get when everything’s on the line. What about you?

ACE’S APARTMENT - LATER THAT NIGHT

Ace’s curiosity deepened. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they might be closer in their professional lives than either of them realized. She replied with a smile.

I’d have to agree with that. There’s something addictive about the adrenaline, the way you have to think on your feet. It’s not for everyone, but it definitely keeps things interesting. Ever have a moment where you thought, ‘This is it, this is why I do this’?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - LATER THAT NIGHT

Rooster felt a connection growing with this mystery person. The way she described the job, the adrenaline—it all resonated with him.

Definitely. There’ve been a few moments where it all comes together, and you remember why you signed up in the first place. It’s those moments that make the tough days worth it. Sounds like you know exactly what I mean.

ACE’S APARTMENT - LATE NIGHT

Ace smiled at the screen. There was an undeniable connection between them, something that went beyond the surface.

I do. It’s the reason we keep coming back, isn’t it? The rush, the challenge. So, what’s your favorite part of the day—when you’re up there, or when you’re down here figuring it all out?

She hit send, the thrill of the conversation growing with each exchange.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - LATE NIGHT

Rooster read her email, feeling that same thrill. It was like they were dancing around the details, both aware they were probably in the same line of work, but neither willing to say too much.

Honestly? It’s a bit of both. I love the freedom and the rush of being up there, but there’s something satisfying about the process of figuring things out down here too. You?

ACE’S APARTMENT - VERY LATE NIGHT

Ace’s heart raced as she typed her response, the anonymity of their conversation adding to the excitement.

Same here. There’s a balance to it that I love. The thrill of being in the thick of it, and the quiet satisfaction of making sure everything runs smoothly when it’s all over. I guess you could say it’s a perfect mix of chaos and control.

She sent the message, feeling more connected to this stranger than she had to anyone in a long time.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - VERY LATE NIGHT

Rooster read her reply, a grin spreading across his face. There was no denying it now—they were definitely in the same field. He wondered if they’d ever crossed paths without even knowing it.

Couldn’t have said it better myself. There’s something about that mix that’s just right. Maybe one day we’ll get the chance to compare notes in person—who knows?

He sent the email, his curiosity about her growing with every word.

ACE’S APARTMENT - EARLY MORNING

Ace’s pulse quickened as she read his last message. The thought of meeting him, of finding out who he was, sent a thrill through her.

Maybe we will. It’s a small world, after all. In the meantime, I’m enjoying getting to know you through these little windows into each other’s lives. Who knew this would turn out to be so fun?

She sent the message, already eager to see what he’d say next.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EARLY MORNING

Rooster leaned back, thinking about how surreal this all was. There was something almost magical about connecting with someone this way, without even knowing their name.

I have to admit, I’m enjoying it too. There’s something about the mystery that makes it all the more interesting. Who knows where this might lead?

He sent the message, his mind racing with possibilities. The night had turned out far better than he could have imagined.

---

The sun had barely risen over the base, casting a soft, golden light across the tarmac. Jets stood in neat rows, their sleek forms gleaming under the morning sun. The day was just beginning, but already there was a sense of energy in the air—a mix of anticipation and routine that every pilot knew well.

Ace arrived at the hangar, her steps quick and determined. She wasn’t in the mood for small talk, especially not after the strange, unexpected thrill of the email exchange last night. She had stayed up far too late, caught up in the banter with her mystery contact, and now she was paying for it. Her mind was still partially back in that conversation, trying to piece together who the person on the other end might be.

But her focus snapped back to the present the moment she saw him.

Bradshaw was already there, leaning casually against one of the jets with that familiar, infuriating smirk on his face. He was chatting with a couple of other pilots, his easy laughter carrying across the hangar. As soon as he noticed her, the smirk widened.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up," Rooster called out, his voice dripping with mock surprise.

Ace rolled her eyes, her irritation flaring instantly. "Some of us don’t need to parade around like peacocks just to get attention, Rooster."

He pushed off from the jet and strolled toward her, his hands in his pockets. "Oh, I don’t know, Ace. A little flair never hurt anyone. But I guess subtlety isn’t really your style, is it?"

She glared at him, crossing her arms. "You wouldn’t know subtlety if it flew up and hit you in the face."

Rooster chuckled, clearly enjoying the exchange. "Maybe not, but at least I don’t go around with a permanent chip on my shoulder. Lighten up, Ace. Not everything has to be a competition."

She stepped closer, refusing to back down. "When you’re around, everything is a competition. Or maybe you just don’t like losing."

Rooster’s eyes flashed with a mix of amusement and challenge. "You think I’m losing? That’s cute. Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night."

Ace’s jaw clenched, her irritation now fully transformed into a burning anger. "You know what, Rooster? One of these days, that ego of yours is going to get you in trouble."

He shrugged, unbothered by her words. "Maybe. But at least I won’t be the one who’s bitter and alone because I’m too stubborn to let anything slide."

Before Ace could fire back, the sound of a nearby jet engine roared to life, signalling that it was time to get to work. She shot him one last glare before turning on her heel and heading toward her plane. Rooster watched her go, shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

The pilots gathered in the briefing room, a large, sterile space lined with chairs facing a wall of screens. The air was thick with the usual blend of tension and focus that accompanied every pre-flight briefing. Ace took a seat near the front, determined to focus on the mission and ignore Rooster, who had taken a seat a few rows behind her.

Phoenix stood at the front, leading the briefing with her usual no-nonsense attitude. She outlined the day’s manoeuvres and objectives, her voice calm and authoritative. But even as she spoke, she couldn’t help but notice the occasional, heated glances exchanged between Ace and Rooster.

It didn’t take long for the tension to bubble over.

Phoenix was in the middle of explaining a particularly complex manoeuverer when Rooster leaned back in his chair and spoke up, his tone casual but clearly intended to provoke.

"Some of us might need a refresher on this one. Don’t want anyone getting lost up there."

Ace stiffened, her eyes narrowing as she turned to look at him. "If you’re worried about keeping up, Rooster, maybe you should take notes."

A few of the other pilots exchanged glances, sensing the tension and doing their best to stay out of it. Phoenix sighed internally, knowing that once Ace and Rooster started, it was almost impossible to get them to stop.

"Alright, knock it off, you two," Phoenix said, her tone firm. "We’re here to work as a team, not to see who can throw the best insults. Save it for after the mission."

Ace bit back a retort, forcing herself to focus on the briefing instead of the urge to wipe that smug look off Rooster’s face. Rooster, for his part, simply leaned back and smirked, satisfied that he had gotten under her skin once again.

The day’s exercises were intense, a series of high-speed manoeuvres designed to push the pilots to their limits. Ace was in her element, the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she focused on every turn, every dive. But no matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn’t completely block out the presence of Rooster’s jet nearby.

Every time she checked her radar or adjusted her position, there he was—always close, always just a little too close. It felt like he was deliberately shadowing her, testing her, trying to outmanoeuvre her at every opportunity.

"Stay in your lane, Rooster," Ace muttered under her breath, though she knew he couldn’t hear her.

But it was clear from his manoeuvres that he was trying to show her up. Every roll, every dive was executed with precision, as if he was daring her to do better.

Ace grit her teeth and pushed her jet harder, determined not to let him get the upper hand. She mirrored his moves, staying right on his tail as they looped and rolled through the sky. The rivalry between them burned hotter with each passing moment, the tension building until it was almost unbearable.

But no matter how hard she pushed, Rooster was right there, matching her move for move. The frustration built up inside her until she could hardly see straight, her focus narrowing to just one thing: beating him.

When the exercises finally ended and the jets returned to base, Ace felt a wave of both relief and exhaustion. She landed her jet with a bit more force than necessary, her frustration still simmering just beneath the surface.

Back on the ground, the pilots gathered in the hangar to debrief and cool down. Ace was in the middle of checking her jet when Rooster walked by, a smug grin on his face.

"Looks like you were struggling a bit up there," he said, his tone infuriatingly casual.

Ace straightened up, fixing him with a cold stare. "I wasn’t struggling. But it’s cute that you think so."

Rooster shrugged, clearly unfazed. "If you say so. Maybe next time you’ll actually keep up."

Ace stepped closer, her frustration boiling over. "I don’t need to keep up with you, Rooster. If anything, you’re the one who’s slowing me down."

His grin widened, as if her anger was just what he’d been hoping for. "Slowing you down? Maybe you’re just not as fast as you think."

The two stood toe to toe, the tension between them crackling in the air. It was always like this—one little comment, one tiny spark, and they were at each other’s throats. Neither was willing to back down, and it was only a matter of time before one of them said something they couldn’t take back.

But before it could escalate any further, Phoenix walked over, her expression exasperated.

"Will you two knock it off already?" she said, stepping between them. "We’ve got enough to deal with today without you two bickering like school kids."

Ace took a deep breath, forcing herself to step back. Rooster, too, backed off, though the smug look never left his face.

"Fine," Ace muttered, turning her attention back to her jet. "Just stay out of my way."

Rooster gave a mock salute, his smirk still in place. "Whatever you say, Ace."

As he walked away, Ace’s frustration simmered, but she forced herself to focus on her work. She didn’t have time to let Rooster get under her skin—not when there was so much at stake.

But no matter how hard she tried to ignore him, the tension between them was always there, lurking just beneath the surface, ready to flare up at a moment’s notice.

The day had been long, and by the time Ace returned to her quarters, she was exhausted. Her body was sore, her mind was racing, and all she wanted to do was collapse into bed. But as she sat on the edge of her bed, her phone buzzed with a new email notification.

She picked it up, her mood lightening slightly as she saw it was from her mystery contact. The memory of their flirtatious exchange the night before brought a small smile to her lips, a welcome distraction from the frustrations of the day.

Hey there, the email read. How was your day?

She sighed, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she considered how to respond. Part of her wanted to vent about Rooster, about how infuriating he was, but she held back. She didn’t want to taint this connection with the negativity that seemed to follow her

---

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Rooster was sprawled out on his couch, his guitar resting on his lap as he strummed absentmindedly. The buzz of his phone drew him out of his musings. He saw the email from his mystery contact and smiled, eager for a distraction from his day.

Hey there! My day was pretty intense. Spent most of it dealing with some annoying issues at work and got into a few heated exchanges. How about you?

ACE’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Ace read his response and couldn’t help but chuckle. It seemed like they were both having a tough day. She typed back, her fingers moving swiftly over the keyboard.

Intense is definitely the word for it. I had a rough day with some tricky equipment and a certain pilot who seems to think he’s invincible. But enough about me—what’s your idea of a perfect way to unwind after a day like that?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Rooster’s smile widened as he read her email. Her mention of a troublesome pilot made him wonder if they might be talking about the same person, but he decided not to press the issue. Instead, he focused on her question.

Ah, a perfect way to unwind? I’d say a good jam session or maybe just kicking back with a favourite movie. Something that takes my mind off the chaos of the day. What about you? Any special routines to shake off the stress?

ACE’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Ace considered his response while taking a sip from her cup of tea. His laid-back approach to winding down was something she could relate to. She quickly typed her reply.

Sounds pretty good. For me, it’s usually a mix of hitting the gym or getting lost in a good book. Sometimes, a good meal with friends can do wonders too. It’s nice to have a little routine to fall back on after a hectic day.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rooster liked the idea of winding down with friends—it was a nice contrast to the solitary nature of his typical evenings. He began typing his response with a relaxed grin.

Sounds like you’ve got a pretty solid routine. I’ve got to say, a good meal with friends sounds like something I could use more of. Maybe I should work on that. Anyway, what kind of books are you into? I’m always looking for recommendations.

ACE’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Ace’s interest was piqued by his question. She enjoyed talking about books and was happy to share her favorites.

I’m a bit of a mix—I love thrillers and mysteries, but I also have a soft spot for classic literature. Recently, I’ve been diving into some historical fiction. How about you? What’s your go-to genre?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Rooster read her email with interest. Her love for thrillers and classic literature was something he could relate to, though his tastes leaned a little differently.

I’m a fan of thrillers myself, though I’ve been known to get into sci-fi and fantasy from time to time. It’s always nice to escape into a different world for a while. Historical fiction sounds intriguing, though. I might need to check that out.

ACE’S APARTMENT - LATE NIGHT

Ace felt a genuine connection through their exchange. She was enjoying this conversation more than she’d expected. She responded with a hint of her playful side.

Sci-fi and fantasy, huh? That’s a pretty interesting mix. You might have to convince me that they’re worth diving into. And if you ever need a book recommendation, just let me know. I might have a few hidden gems up my sleeve.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - LATE NIGHT

Rooster’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he read her playful offer. He liked the idea of her recommending books—it felt like a little inside joke between them.

I’ll definitely take you up on that. And I’m always up for a good book challenge. Just don’t be too surprised if I end up recommending a few sci-fi classics in return. It’s all part of the fun, right?

ACE’S APARTMENT - VERY LATE NIGHT

Ace’s smile grew as she read his response. The playful banter was exactly what she needed after a long day. She decided to keep the momentum going.

Challenge accepted. I’m ready for your recommendations anytime. And who knows, maybe we’ll end up with a shared list of must-reads by the end of this.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - VERY LATE NIGHT

Rooster’s grin widened. He liked the idea of a book exchange and was intrigued by the way their conversation was flowing. He typed his last message of the night.

Looking forward to it. It’s nice to have something to look forward to, especially after a day like today. Here’s to new books and unexpected connections. Talk soon?

ACE’S APARTMENT - VERY LATE NIGHT

Ace finished her tea and read his message with satisfaction. She felt a genuine connection growing and was looking forward to continuing the conversation.

Definitely. Here’s to more chats and less stress. I’ll be here.

She sent the email and closed her laptop, feeling a sense of calm settle over her. The mystery contact was turning out to be a much-needed bright spot in her hectic life.

---

The hangar was alive with the usual pre-flight activity. Rooster was inspecting his jet, but his attention kept drifting towards Ace, who was absorbed in her tablet. Her brows were furrowed, and she seemed completely engrossed in whatever was on the screen.

Rooster, never one to miss an opportunity, strolled over with a casual swagger, a mischievous grin on his face. “Hey, Ace,” he called out, his tone light but laced with teasing. “Looks like you’re pretty absorbed over there. Texting someone special, are we?”

Ace glanced up, her expression a mix of irritation and surprise. “What’s it to you, Rooster?”

Rooster leaned in a little closer, clearly enjoying the moment. “Just curious. I saw you typing away like your life depends on it. You’ve got to be talking to someone pretty important, right? A special someone, maybe?”

Ace’s eyes narrowed as she tried to hide the screen of her tablet. “It’s none of your business. Can’t you just focus on your own stuff?”

Rooster’s grin widened. “Oh, come on. Don’t be so secretive. I’m just wondering if you’re setting up a hot date or maybe just chatting with a certain someone who’s been on your mind.”

Ace’s face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and anger. “Seriously, Rooster? Not everything’s a joke. I’m just dealing with some work stuff.”

Rooster raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying riling her up. “Work stuff, huh? If it’s work, why’re you so secretive? You can tell me. I promise I won’t judge. Or is it that you’re afraid I might find out it’s someone...well, let’s say, more interesting?”

Ace’s frustration peaked. She shoved her tablet into her bag and took a step toward Rooster, her voice low but fierce. “You’ve been on my case all morning. If you don’t back off, I swear—”

Rooster chuckled, stepping back slightly. “Whoa, calm down there. I’m just making conversation. Didn’t realize you’d be so touchy about it. Guess it’s a sensitive topic.”

Before Ace could respond, Phoenix and the other squad members noticed the growing tension. Phoenix stepped in, her expression serious. “Alright, enough. If you two can’t handle a little teasing without it escalating, I’m going to have to step in.”

Hangman and Coyote, catching the edge in Phoenix’s tone, moved closer. Coyote placed a hand on Ace’s shoulder, gently pulling her back. “Hey, Ace, take a breath. It’s not worth getting worked up over.”

Hangman approached Rooster, his expression one of mixed amusement and exasperation. “Rooster, you’re really pushing it today. Maybe give it a rest, huh?”

Ace, still seething, shook her head. “I’m done with this. I just want to get through the day without dealing with his nonsense.”

Rooster, now more subdued but still smirking, raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll back off. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

Fanboy and Bob, who had been watching from a distance, approached to help defuse the situation. Fanboy clapped Rooster on the shoulder. “Come on, man. Let’s focus on the mission.”

Bob nodded in agreement, glancing at Ace with concern. “Everyone needs to stay cool. We’ve got enough on our plates without adding personal drama to the mix.”

As the squad began to gather for the briefing, the tension between Ace and Rooster lingered, but they both knew they had to refocus. Phoenix took a deep breath, addressing the group. “Let’s all get it together. We’ve got a briefing coming up, and we need to be professional.”

Ace and Rooster, now separated by the intervention of their teammates, walked toward the briefing room, the earlier animosity still simmering but temporarily set aside. The squad’s intervention had helped to de-escalate the situation, but the morning’s drama left a mark on everyone’s mood as they prepared for the day’s mission.

---

ACE’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Ace slumped onto her couch, exhausted from the day’s events. Her laptop was open, and she continued her email conversation with her anonymous contact, hoping to unwind a bit. She began typing with a mix of curiosity and irritation about the ongoing mystery.

Hey,

Today was a disaster. Had a big argument with a colleague who really knows how to get under my skin. Not the best day for me. But this email exchange has been a good distraction, I guess.

How about you? How’s your day going? Anything to share?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Rooster read her email with a smirk. He was enjoying the light-hearted banter but was curious to see if he could draw out more information. He typed back, subtly hinting at the similarities in their work environments.

Hey,

Sounds like we’ve both had our share of drama. My day wasn’t any better—had some heated exchanges with colleagues. It’s like we’re living in the same soap opera.

I’m starting to think our work situations might be more similar than we realized. Anyway, got any funny or surprising stories from your day?

ACE’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Ace read his email with increasing suspicion. His description of his day seemed all too familiar. Deciding to push further, she typed her response, trying to get more clues about who he might be.

Hey,

It’s funny—your day sounds almost too familiar. I’m starting to wonder if we might be talking about the same environment. If you’re in a high-pressure job with lots of drama, I might have a pretty good guess about who you are.

Any hints?

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Rooster saw her email and felt a spark of recognition. He decided to give a direct clue to see if it would lead to an answer.

Hey,

Alright, here’s a hint: I work in a place where tensions are high and everyone’s on edge. Sounds like you might be in a similar boat. Does that help?

I’m curious—any idea who I might be?

INT. ACE’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Ace read his clue and felt a sharp pang of realization. Her frustration from the day mixed with the sudden clarity about her correspondent’s identity. She quickly typed her response, her irritation clear in her words.

You’ve got to be kidding me. With your “high-pressure” job description, it’s pretty obvious that you’re Rooster. I should have known, I can’t believe I’ve been having these conversations with you, of all people.

This is ridiculous. And to think I was actually enjoying this exchange. I’m so done with this.

ROOSTER’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Rooster’s eyes widened in shock as he read Ace’s email. The realization hit him hard, and his amusement turned into frustration. He quickly typed a reply, his tone reflecting his annoyance.

Seriously? I had a feeling, but this is just perfect. So it turns out I’ve been emailing with Ace. I should have known you’d be the one on the other end. What a surprise.

I can’t believe you were getting so worked up over these emails. Great, just great. I guess we’ve got a lot to talk about now. Or maybe not.

ACE’S APARTMENT - EVENING

Ace’s frustration flared as she read Rooster’s reply. She cursed under her breath, the realization that Rooster was behind the emails making her even more upset. She slammed her laptop shut, her annoyance with both Rooster and Hangman boiling over.

“Damn it, Rooster. And damn Hangman for setting this up!” she fumed. “This whole thing was a setup from the start.”

She paced the room, trying to calm herself. The surprise and anger of discovering her mystery contact was Rooster left her seething. The day had been a mess, and the email revelation only added fuel to the fire.

Please comment, like and reblog!

[kayewrite]

Blue Sticky Note

straykids fic wherein a mysterious note confession appears in your binder. Unsure of who left it, you embark on an investigation among your eight close friends, each with their own quirks and possibilities.

genre: Fluff. and fluff

ot8 x reader! stray kids x reader!! word count: 3.3k

AN: i want to make a fic with multiple members in it but i might make more of it after i finished all individual members. btw can you teach me how tumblr works? i might pin a masterlist soon hehe

You just got back to your apartment after a long day of classes. Exhausted from wrestling with numbers and equations, you flopped down on your bed and closed your eyes.

But your moment of peace was interrupted by the sudden ringing of your phone.

“Hey,” your friend Seungmin’s voice greeted you through the speaker.

Used to how he always greeted you, you sighed and listened as he continued, your tiredness making it hard to focus.

“You didn’t turn in your literature assignment. I’m on my way to your building,” he said, causing you to bolt upright in surprise.

You had forgotten to give it to him during class earlier. Glad he reminded you. And you were glad to be friends with him because he was the class representative. You enjoyed a lot of benefits from being his friend.

“Okay, thanks for the reminder. No need to come up—I’ll meet you downstairs,” you replied before ending the call.

Grateful for Seungmin’s help, you quickly gathered your things and checked your binder for the assignment. You sighed in relief when you found it. “I thought I lost you.”

As you were about to close your binder, a flash of blue caught your eye. A blue sticky note on the front page—one that you definitely didn’t own.

You pulled it out and read the message, which made your heart skip a beat: “I like you. But i you only see me as a friend.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d received a confession, but this note felt different. There was a mystery to it that intrigued you.

Confusion swirled in your mind as you tried to piece together who might have left this note. The message was neatly written in capital letters, offering no clues about the writer's identity.

Who could it be?

You had a lot of friends, but who might have done this?

You had male friends, all of whom felt like brothers to you. Could it be one of them? But they were like family.

The note was a sweet but outdated way to confess—charming in its own way but not something you’d expect from anyone in particular. You read it again and again, hoping to find a hint about who it might be from. But aside from the neat handwriting on a blue sticky note, you found nothing.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. You immediately sprang out of bed, remembering Seungmin.

“I’m sorry,” you said, peeking through the door.

“It’s okay,” he smiled reassuringly. “I know you were tired, so I decided to come up.”

“Oh, thanks,” you replied, quickly picking up some clothes that were strewn on the floor. You grabbed your assignment and saw the sticky note again, hastily hiding it by placing a book on top.

As you handed over your paper, you decided to test the waters, curious about who the note could be from. “Do you own any sticky notes?” you asked casually.

Seungmin’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

“I was taking notes and thought I might need some,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“You have plenty already,” he said, gesturing to the stack of colorful sticky notes on your study table. “And no, I don’t have any. I keep running out of them. I should buy more.”

He glanced at his watch and then looked back at you, his eyes full of concern. “I should go now. You should continue resting, and don’t forget to eat.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. President,” you said, a playful tone in your voice.

“No problem. Take care and always lock your doors. Bye, see you tomorrow.”

Before he left, Seungmin ruffled your hair affectionately.

As the door closed behind him, you found yourself staring at the sticky note again, your mind racing. If it was Seungmin who left the note, did he feel that way about you? His caring nature and playful attitude seemed to match the tone of the note, but could he really be the one?

Then again, what if it wasn’t him? You couldn’t jump to conclusions based solely on a sticky note.

You took a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts aside. Until you had more evidence, you couldn’t be certain. You needed to consider all possibilities before drawing any conclusions.

Sticky notes and neat penmanship alone weren’t enough to figure out who left the note. Everyone in your class had decent handwriting, and blue sticky notes were too common to offer any real clue. They were practically identical—anyone could have bought them. It wasn't unique, not even close.

So who could it be?

"What are you thinking about?"

You were lost in thought when a voice pulled you back to reality. You looked up to see who it was.

"Uh, nothing," you replied, somewhat startled.

It was Changbin.

He was a friend of yours, though vastly different from Seungmin. If Seungmin was a green flag, then Changbin was the complete opposite—a walking red flag who had a reputation for playing with people’s hearts.

"Let me copy your physics assignment," he demanded more than asked, flashing you a grin that was both charming and mischievous.

Changbin had that bad-boy aura, and you sometimes wondered how you two even became friends. But one thing was certain: he couldn’t be the one who left that sticky note in your binder. When Changbin liked someone, he didn’t shy away from telling them directly. He would flirt openly, not leave anonymous notes.

So no, it wasn’t him.

"Why should I?" you replied nonchalantly. You were used to his antics, which might be one of the reasons why you were friends.

"Because I’m cute, and after class, I’ll buy you your favorite toothpaste-flavored ice cream," he teased.

"It’s not toothpaste! It’s mint chocolate!" you corrected, rolling your eyes.

"My bad," he smirked, unfazed. "Now, let me copy."

Too tired to argue further, you handed him your assignment. Changbin eagerly started copying, his focus entirely on the task at hand.

As you watched him scribble down your answers, you noticed his messy handwriting. There was no way it could have been him—the note’s handwriting was neat and careful, the opposite of his chaotic scrawl.

"You really have terrible handwriting. What are you, a kid? It looks like a storm blew through it," you teased, watching him.

"If I had more time, I could make it look like it was printed with a font," he shot back, not looking up. "But since the prof will be here in a few minutes, I don’t care what you say. Now, shush."

You let him finish copying, trying not to overthink the situation again, when suddenly he pulled out a blue sticky note from his bag.

"I almost forgot to give this to you," he said, handing it to you slowly. "It’s the address for the party this weekend. You should come. If I don’t see even a glimpse of you, I won’t enjoy it."

Surprised, you stared at the sticky note in his hand. It was the same color and size as the one you found in your binder. Why would he have this?

Seeing that you weren’t taking it, he grinned mischievously and stuck it to your forehead, laughing at your shocked expression.

Could it be him?

But…

You glanced at the two sticky notes in your hand, comparing them as you strolled through the expansive university yard.

Confessing like this wasn’t his style.

So it couldn’t be, right?

But the sticky notes were identical—the same length, the same height. Plain as they were, they were unmistakably the same.

Yet, you remembered how he would laugh if he knew someone confessed like this. He’d call it plain, boring, and probably mock the person as weak.

You shook off the thought, placing the sticky notes back in your binder and hugging it to your chest, forcing your mind to focus on your lessons.

"Hey, monkey!" You halted mid-step, rolling your eyes at the familiar voice and nickname.

"What?" you snapped, turning to face him.

"So you really accept now that you’re a monkey?" he teased, laughing. It was Minho.

Your friend (well, sort of?). In your group, you were like a cat and dog—he was the cat, and according to him, you were the dog because your face reminded him of one.

Despite the constant teasing, you appreciated how he looked out for you and was always there when you needed him.

But what did he just say?

"I'm not in the mood to fight with you," you muttered. On a normal day, you would have started bickering with him, refusing to back down until he surrendered (yes, like kids). "What are you, a chicken?"

"Oh, you noticed my hair. Do you like it?" he winked.

"You look like a rooster." His hair was dyed orange, and although he didn’t look like a rooster, you wanted to get back at him.

"That's better than being a monkey," he grinned.

"Crazy."

The two of you walked together, talking about random things with the usual bickering sprinkled in. Then, you remembered the sticky note. You knew it wasn’t from him because, well, why would it be?

Still, you decided to show it to him.

"Who do you think did this?" you asked, handing him the note.

He read it aloud, the words dripping with sarcasm, "That’s the cringiest thing I’ve ever read in my whole life."

Just as you expected.

"You shouldn’t say that! He must’ve gathered a lot of courage to do this."

"Why wouldn’t he just tell you in person? Is he weak?" Minho scoffed, lowering his voice when he saw you weren’t amused.

"Maybe he didn’t want to ruin our friendship."

"Then he shouldn’t have liked you in the first place."

"Can we control our feelings? It’s hard, you know!" You rolled your eyes. "Why am I even telling you this? You don’t understand anything," you mumbled, though loud enough for him to hear. "Anyway, I should go. I have something to do at the library."

"I like you."

You froze in your tracks at his words.

"That’s what he should do! It’s really easy, you know," he said, smirking before suddenly sprinting off in the opposite direction.

What was that?

Confused by Minho's words, you made your way to the library, replaying the conversation in your mind.

"What was that? Does he like me, or was he just using it as an example?"

You tried to shrug off the thought as you arrived at the library. The familiar scent of books enveloped you, a comforting distraction.

At the librarian's desk, you spotted Han, your friend who worked there as a student assistant.

"Oh, what brings you here?" he greeted you with a smile, lowering his voice in contrast to Minho’s usual volume.

"Hello. I’m returning this book." You handed him the physics book you had been hugging to your chest.

"Already? Are you sure you’re done with it? It’s okay if you missed the deadline. You know I can always talk to the senior librarian for you," Han offered, his tone warm and reassuring.

If you were to consider another suspect in your mystery investigation, Han would be a possibility. You’d never questioned how he took care of you before, but now, as you tried to solve this puzzle, you began to wonder.

Could he like you?

Or were you just overthinking things?

No, you shouldn’t read too much into Han’s actions. Like Seungmin, he was someone who genuinely cared for the people he loved.

"No, it’s okay. I’m done with it. Thank you, Han. And thanks for the offer—I might take you up on that one day and maybe never return the book," you joked, earning a laugh from him.

"Now I should go. I need to meet Hyunjin—he asked me for a favor."

"Sure! Take care!"

"Thanks. You too."

As you left the library, you felt a hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. Turning around, you saw Han, slightly out of breath.

"Hey, was this yours? You forgot it," he said, handing you the sticky note.

You didn’t know how it ended up with him, but you quickly took it and placed it in your binder.

"Oh, thanks."

"No worries. That was a cute confession," he said, still catching his breath, then laughed. "I should get back—lots of work to do."

You nodded, watching as he returned to the library.

A question formed in your mind: Was it Han?

Why didn’t he ask who wrote it?

Why wasn’t he curious?

But then, he did ask if it was yours, as if he didn’t know.

So maybe… it wasn’t him.

"You literally owe me for this one," you whined, though you knew you didn’t have much of a choice as you glanced at your friend Hyunjin, a med student with an ever-present smile.

"Yes, I promise I'll buy you whatever you want," he said, clasping his hands together in gratitude, his eyes gleaming with a sincerity that made it hard to stay annoyed. You sighed, relenting, and extended your arm.

He needed a blood sample for one of his "you-don’t-know-the-details" assignments, and apparently, you were exactly what he needed.

Like a seasoned pro, he pricked the needle into your skin and attached a small hose to collect your blood. It wasn’t the first time you’d been his willing guinea pig, but you couldn’t say no to Hyunjin.

"Thank you," he said earnestly after he was done.

"Right. You should be thankful," you retorted with a mock glare, though you couldn’t help but smile when he laughed.

Hyunjin had the most stereotypical 'doctor-y' penmanship you’d ever seen—impossible to decipher, even as you watched him scribble something in his records.

"By the way, I left a note before in your binder," he said casually.

His words rang in your ears. "What note?"

He smirked, clearly enjoying the suspense. "A note about how you should remember to take the vitamins I gave you."

Oh.

Seeing you internalize his words, he added, "And I noticed another note in there." He adjusted his white coat, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "And I know who put it there."

You looked up at him, curiosity written all over your face as he towered over you.

"And you should find that out on your own," he teased, winking before walking away, leaving you with more questions than answers.

"Why’d you call me here?" Jeongin asked as he walked into the coffee shop, a guitar slung over his back.

"Because I promised to buy you coffee," you replied with a smile.

Jeongin was a year younger than you, a music major who could play practically any instrument, though piano was his favorite.

"Really? But I’m not craving coffee right now. You should buy me a meal. I’m hungry," he said, not even trying to be cute but somehow managing to be utterly adorable.

As per his request, the two of you headed to a nearby restaurant. You let him order whatever he wanted and watched as he dug into his food.

"You must’ve been really hungry," you remarked.

"I didn’t have lunch or dinner yet," he admitted between bites.

"You shouldn’t skip meals like that! Our bodies are our main investment. We need to take care of them," you scolded, playing the role of the older sibling.

"I know, Mom," he teased.

"Good son," you laughed.

"Are you going to Changbin’s party?" he asked after stuffing more food into his mouth. You took a sip of your strawberry latte, considering your answer.

"I don’t know. I’m kinda busy."

He got back to eating, and you hesitated, feeling a question bubbling up inside you. It felt awkward, but you knew you wouldn’t be at peace until you asked.

"Uh, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"You're already doing it," he said, his mouth still half-full.

"Let me finish!," you squinted at him. "This question is kinda weird, but…"

"Faster! I’m curious!" He leaned in slightly, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Uh, do you know if anyone who’s close to us… erm…" You coughed, trying to find the right words. "…likes me? I mean, like, likes me?"

Jeongin looked up at the ceiling, thinking. "I don’t know who, but I know everyone loves you."

Well, that much was true—friendship came naturally with your group.

"And me too. I love you," he added casually.

"Aw, thank you. I love you too."

He didn’t reply, just smiled at you for a moment before turning back to his meal, leaving you with a warm feeling that was hard to shake.

"I'm so tired of that neighbor of mine!" Felix, a friend who lived three floors above you, burst into your apartment wearing pajamas and hugging his pillow.

"You can’t sleep again?" you asked, watching as he plopped down onto your sofa bed with a dramatic sigh.

"I don’t know what the hell he’s doing in the middle of the night! Was he doing construction or something?" he whined, making himself comfortable. "Oh, this is so comfortable. Let me crash here."

It wasn’t the first time he’d crashed at your place, so you were used to it. You didn’t mind at all.

"Did I bother you?" he asked, his head still buried in the pillow.

"Never."

"I should really move to this floor. It’s so peaceful."

"You could always move into my apartment and be my roommate," you suggested, a plan you’d considered before.

"No way. Someone might get angry."

"Who would that be?"

Felix didn’t answer, his silence leaving the question hanging in the air. You thought he might be teasing, but his continued silence suggested otherwise.

"And I don’t think I could handle living with you," he added.

"Why’s that?"

Once again, he didn’t respond.

"You should get some sleep. It’s past midnight," you said, heading toward your room.

As you were about to close the door, Felix called out, "I know about the blue sticky note in your binder."

You stopped in your tracks.

"Keep it, okay?" he said with a knowing smile before burying himself back into the pillow.

You wanted to ask more, but Felix seemed to be done with the conversation. With a curious mind, you went to bed, pondering over his cryptic words.

“Chan, did you really make this?” you asked, your voice brimming with excitement as you listened intently.

He nodded, a broad grin spreading across his face as he observed your reaction.

“This is the best music I’ve ever heard!” you exclaimed, pressing the earphones deeper into your ears.

“Oh, of course you’d say that because I’m your friend,” Chan said with a chuckle.

“No, I’m serious!” you replied, though you could only read his lips. The music’s high volume made it difficult to hear clearly. “This is amazing!”

“Yeah, that’s Han in the background and Changbin rapping.”

You bobbed your head along with the beats, completely immersed in the music Chan had created.

“Was Jeongin in it?” you asked, recognizing a familiar voice.

“Yes, and Hyunjin, Felix, Minho, and Seungmi—”

“This part is definitely Seungmin!” you shouted, and Chan laughed at your enthusiasm.

You continued listening, enjoying every note until the very last one, which was a soft piano melody.

“Wow, that was beautiful! I still can’t believe my friend created this. It’s a masterpiece.”

“Oh, thanks. That’s a great compliment from the person the song was inspired by,” Chan said with a knowing smile.

You didn’t catch that last part, too absorbed in the music to fully register his words.

“What’s the title of the song?” you asked, still in awe.

“Blue Sticky Note.”

The title made you stop dead in your tracks. Chan’s gaze lingered on you with an unreadable expression, as if he knew something you didn’t.

The realization hit you—the lyrics, the melody, everything about the song—

We’ve been friends for so long, shared laughter and tears,

But there’s something more inside, I’ve held back for years.

So I turned our feelings into a song, hoping you’d see,

How much you mean to me, how much you mean to me.

Oh, blue sticky note, you’re my secret, my confession,

Wrapped in notes and beats, my heart’s true expression.

In every verse, in every line, it’s you I adore,

From a simple blue sticky note to a melody I’m pouring out.

it was all connected to the note you had hidden in your binder.

part 2 here!

[nina-ya]

Hey! It's my birthday and I was wondering if you write for Shanks? If you do, could you do a Ways That Law Wordlessly Says "I Love You"? thanks

Ways That Shanks Wordlessly Says "I Love You"

A/N: HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO YOU NONNIE <3<3 I hope your birthday went well!! Luffy Zoro Sanji Law Kid Shanks Pairing: Shanks x reader CW: None. WC: 1.4k

Shanks had a talent for picking up on the smallest of details, especially when it came to you. He always seemed to know what you wanted, even before you had a chance to verbalize it. It was one of the many things that made being with him so special– his ability to read you like an open book.

One day, you two would be wandering through a market on a smaller island. The stalls are filled with various goods and trinkets, each one tempting you in their own way. You walked besides Shanks, taking in the atmosphere of the market. 

As you passed a stall filled with jewelry, a particular piece caught your eye. The craftsmanship was absolutely perfect and you just couldn’t help but admire it. You did not say anything, however, and you moved on from the stall to browse the other vendors. Shanks, though, stayed behind for just a moment, seemingly engrossed in the jewelry himself. Later, the sun began to set, and the market started to close. Shanks led you two back to the ship, and as you were settling down in your cabin, he pulled out a box, handing it to you.

“Got you something,” Shanks said, holding the box out to you with a grin. “Thought you might like it.” You opened the box and found the very piece of jewelry that you’d been eyeing earlier. The piece glimmered against the light, painting soft reflections of the room's light against the walls. You were taken aback, surprised that Shanks had gotten the very thing that you had shown interest in. 

“Shanks, you didn’t have to–” you began, but he interrupted your thoughts with a gentle laugh. 

“I wanted to,” he replied. “I saw the way you were looking at that thing earlier, and I couldn’t resist. Besides, if you really feel bad, I can think of a few ways that you could pay me back.” He said with a playful wink at the last comment. You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, feeling lucky that you fell for someone as amazing as Shanks. He always had a way of making you feel special, spoiling you in the most thoughtful ways. You know Shanks loves you when he pays attention to all your wants and needs. - - -

It’s common for the crew to always seek out some sort of tavern when they make landfall. It’s a fun way to down booze while also getting to try the island's local cuisine. You sat at the bar, watching the red haired man on the other side of the bar as he chatted with the other crew members. He naturally stood out amongst the bunch, his voice projecting across the building. You could practically feel the charisma dripping from his words. It’s one of the reasons you fell for him. 

Shanks approached you with a grin, ordering a round of drinks for everyone. He leaned against the counter, elbows propped up casually, turning to you. “Thirsty?” he asked, his voice projecting over the noise of the tavern. 

You nodded, and he motioned for the bartender to bring some drinks over to you two. Shanks picked up the drinks and motioned for you to follow him. He led you to a table in the corner, the seats being somewhat secluded from the rest of the tavern. While the crew was busy celebrating, Shanks was more than happy to hang out with you away from the rest of them

He slid your drink over to you and tapped the two glasses with a satisfying clink that rang throughout the room. While the others in the crew were being rowdy and singing sea shanties, Shanks sat beside you, close enough that you could feel his body heat radiating off of him. He keeps you engaged in a conversation, pointing out small things around the tavern and telling you interesting places he wants to visit while you guys are visiting the island. He had a way of making everything sound exciting, even if they are the most mundane things.

He would laugh at your jokes, eyes sparkling with amusement, and he would slightly lean closer to you as the noise grew louder to make sure he did not miss a word you said. It was as if you two were in your own bubble. You know Shanks loves you when he values spending alone time with you. - - - Shanks’ lap is always the best seat in the house during all the parties you two found yourselves in. His arm seemed to always find itself wrapped firmly around you, holding you close. You held a mug of rum, sharing sips with him, because he’d much rather use his one arm to hold you and keep you securely against him. Even when he is telling stories or engaging in conversation with others, his grip never loosens and you often could feel his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your waist, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

Tonight, the crew is gathered around a bonfire on the beach, the hot amber flames flickering, giving light to the celebration and filling the air with the sound of the occasional crackle and pop of the firewood. Shanks is right at home, reciting stories, full body boisterous laughter spilling from his lips. Even when his focus is not on you, you know that you are constantly lingering in his mind with the way he pulls you in just a little closer, whispering an inside joke that has you reeling over in laughter. As always you are the carrier of food and drinks, offering it to him every so often.  As the party winds down, Shanks stands, helping you to your feet, his arm still attached to you. It’s as if the world would crumble if he let go. Even as he guides you back to your shared quarters and into your bed, he still cannot seem to let go of you. There is just something about being in Shanks’ embrace that makes you feel so safe and so loved. As you drift off to sleep every night with his strong embrace cradling you to his chest, you know he will be right beside you when you wake up. You know Shanks loves you when he never lets go.

[borderlinereminders]

I've talked quite a bit about conflict, and arguments. I've also talked about how in arguments, we shouldn't be arguing to "win" but to solve the problem. These arguments should be done "fairly." But I've been asked, what is "fighting fair?" So, let's talk about that.

Before you begin your discussion, try and figure out why you're upset.

Sometimes, we're not upset for the reasons we think. Before confronting the other person, you should have an idea of what you're upset about. This might mean walking away to calm down and collect our thoughts before engaging.

Don't use degrading language or yell. Try and focus on the issue at hand and not attacking the other person. If this is a relationship you value and want to continue, it can be important to approach this with an openness to resolve the conflict, and that's more likely to happen if the other person doesn't feel attacked.

Take turns speaking. Both parties should have space to talk about their feelings. There should be space for each party to say their piece.

Try and find a compromise if relevant. Sometimes there isn't a perfect fix. In fact, there usually isn't. This might mean compromising. Maybe you're feeling frustrated your partner isn't pulling their weight because they keep skipping a certain chore. Maybe upon speaking to them, you find out why that is and for some reason, that specific chore just is too overwhelming or not feasible for them to do. In a case like this, a compromise might involve them taking on a different responsibility while you take on that chore. This would allow them to pull their weight in a different way, and you may not have to feel like it's all on you.

Express your feelings clearly. Don't hint at your feelings, or use an accusatory statement. This might mean saying "when you don't text me when you say you will, I feel worried about whether you're okay" instead of "You didn't text me when you said you would!" While it can be hard, I-Statements usually lead to a more open discussion and are less likely to leave the other person feeling defensive to where they may shut down. Here's a longer post I wrote about them.

DEAR MAN is an overall helpful skill to handle conflict. This skill helps you to express your needs in a way that is respectful of all parties involved and its goal is to reach a positive outcome.

GIVE is a skill that can be useful in how we approach conflict, and act during conflict. It's useful to use along with a skill like DEARMAN.

If you need to apologize, I wrote a post on that here.

It's important to note that this advice isn't for all circumstances. How I approach conflict depends on my relationship to the person. To someone like my life partner, or my best friend, my goal is always to preserve the relationship and have a positive outcome. Therefore, I will put in the extra effort to make that happen. I will aim to communicate with the intent of us solving the problem together.

With someone like a certain family member, I will say what I can to appease them for my own emotional safety. And I just want to say that that is so valid. Sometimes it isn't the time for us to confront someone for many reasons. It's okay if you can't do that.

Having conflict in a relationship is normal. What I think is more important in defining a healthy relationship is how you handle conflict together.

[from-the-clouds]

moonlight on the river - joel miller x reader

masterlist | song inspo

summary: Joel has been many things to you. A dealer, a mentor, a friend, a lover. Lately, it’s the latter.  Sometimes he’s none of those things, or a handful of them, or all of them at once. And it’s up to the both of you to decide in the moment which things are true. Takes place during episode one of the TV series. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 2.4k warnings: angst, fluff, good ol' fashioned hurt/comfort. depressive thoughts, reader sort of has a death wish, references to alcohol/drug abuse, death, loss of family members & loved ones. implied age gap, references to casual sex, heavy petting (no smut). a/n: it's been months since i posted a fic on here! some of my best work comes when it’s 2am, i’m emo and touch-deprived and i have an 8am appointment so i stay up until 5am to write. this was actually supposed to be fully a fluff piece but the angst queen had to strike.

You wish you could drown in the pile of blankets you’ve wrapped yourself in. Wish the couch would swallow you whole, like a whale, then drag you down to the deepest depths of the ocean and leave you there until you can’t hold your breath any longer, until the cold pricks the tips of your fingers and toes, until you succumb completely. 

But in some ways, you’re already existing like that, in the sea-level equivalent of the Marianas Trench. One of those sea creatures that look not of this Earth, features warped – adapting, evolving, surviving, despite your environment’s best efforts to eradicate. Your mother had once shown them to you in her old textbooks and shown you the photos of anglerfish, frilled sharks, phantom jellyfish. The memory of your mother makes you wince, and you try to think of something else.

How anyone else around you managed to put on a brave face and make their way through each day was beyond your comprehension, even though you do it, too. They probably all feel the same way about it as you do, but no one talks about the collective trauma you’re all slogging through. No one has anything new to add, and it’s foolish to believe that anyone’s insight could somehow take the pain away. Even if you have a chance to tell your story, there is always someone who has it worse. 

Get in line. 

Exhausted as you are, you don’t sleep much. Most of your nights are spent at the precipice of unconsciousness, and you can never quite make it over the edge, the helicopters, radios, sporadic gunfire always manages to rouse you first. When you do manage to sleep, you’re plagued with nightmares. You prefer perpetual fatigue. 

A knock at your door comes suddenly, and you start, sitting up quickly – but quietly – to not alert the unexpected guest that someone might be in the tiny studio you call home. It’s well after dark, which makes you doubt that whoever, or whatever is at the door, isn’t there for a friendly drop-in or a cup of tea, not that friendly drop-ins or cups of tea ever happened. 

But before you grow too panicked, your name is muttered, accompanied by another impatient rap of knuckles against the hollow wood. It’s a familiar rasp, even-toned and calm, and your shoulders sag in relief before you abandon your post on the couch. 

“Joel?” you ask softly, squinting in the dim light of the hallway through the crack in the door. He doesn’t look any different, though it’s been about a month since you’d last seen him. You’re not sure what to expect, but he’s the same as always, wearing a worn, tight denim shirt and fraying jeans. He looks tired, but you can’t recall a time when he doesn’t. Everyone looks tired all the time, it just only concerns you because it’s him. 

Not waiting for an invite, he steps through the small opening you allot for him and into your place, wordlessly.

“What the fuck, Joel, it’s past curfew are you trying to get yourself killed?” 

“I’ve done worse,” he says, dismissively, and yanks the door from your hand to close and lock it behind him. 

You don’t argue with him. You rarely do – which you think is partly why he likes you – but especially now, you don’t have the energy. And when you do, he’s too stubborn to listen. 

Joel has been many things to you. A dealer, a mentor, a friend, a lover. Lately, it’s the latter.  Sometimes he’s none of those things, or a handful of them, or all of them at once. And it’s up to the both of you to decide in the moment which things are true.

So when he steps forward, crowding you backwards until your rear hits your kitchen countertop and you have nowhere to go, you don’t ask questions. 

His hand cradles your chin, tilting it back to look into his sad eyes, and he kisses you. For a split second, it’s chaste, and you’re almost confused, until it’s suddenly not, and his grip on your jaw tightens, his lips parting. Joel stakes his claim, his free hand winding into your hair and pulling. You sigh, closing your eyes. 

He moves both his hands to cup your ass through the flimsy athletic shorts you’re wearing, lifting your hips up and against him, making to carry you to the bed, or maybe even take you on the countertop – it could be one of those days. Everything he’s doing would normally light you on fire, and there’s a primal instinct that’s telling you you like it, but for some reason, you hesitate.

Joel senses it right away. You’re not sure how. And you don’t want him to. You’re prepared to submit, even though you feel numb everywhere, because you hope for the chance to feel something, anything other than what you’ve felt the last few days. He pauses, too, pulls back. 

You expect to meet his eyes when you look up at him, but they are fixed on something else. Tugging on the collar of his shirt, you try to kiss him again, but he doesn’t budge, until you follow his eyes. An empty bottle of liquor sits on the bar behind you. Fuck.

“You’re drinking again.” It’s not a question.

“That was actually from yesterday,” you say, like it would make any difference. The remnants of a hangover have been tweaking your temples all day, biting the back of your eyes. It was half empty when I got it. It was just one night. I can have a couple drinks without getting out of control. Your brain cycles through several more excuses before you decide not to waste your breath. 

“What did I tell you about this?” He reached behind you and lifted the bottle, holding it in front of your face like you hadn’t been able to see it clearly enough before. 

“You should talk,” you don’t like being cruel, but you’re already desperate to end the discussion. He’s probably drunk or high right now, but it’s none of your business, and you’d given up trying to save him a long time ago. 

You shift your weight to lower yourself off the counter and move away from him and the once-inviting warmth of his embrace. Joel doesn’t let you make it far, reaching out to grip your upper arm and tugging you back to face him with little-to-no effort on his part. His strength always startled you, even though it shouldn’t, considering his size. It also should’ve scared you, but the manhandling mostly just turned you on. Not enough that you were going to keep letting him lecture you.

“It’s different. You’re still so young.”

“What does that matter?”

He doesn’t have an answer. 

You lift your chin, squaring up to him. “That’s what I thought.”

He puts his hand on hip and studies you carefully. Despite your attitude, you’ve never liked disappointing him. He’s the closest thing you have to a father, which you can recognize is an awfully fucked up way to feel about someone you regularly have sex with, but you lived in an awfully fucked up world.

There’s a wistfulness to Joel’s expression you’ve never seen before. He chooses to change the subject, and you’re thankful until what he says registers. 

“I’m leaving town tomorrow night. You might not see me again.”

It takes a moment to process, but it hits you like a blow to the gut. So hard, you’re surprised you don’t stagger backwards with the force of it. Even when it settles, you know it hasn’t even sunk in all the way.

“Well…” you take a long, thoughtful pause, and offer the only thing that your brain can come up with, “....stay safe out there, then.”

“Yeah,” he runs his tongue over his teeth and squints at you. “You want to tell me what’s going on?” 

Snorting, you know it’s important to remain as blase as possible so you don’t cry. Although, you don’t really cry anymore. Even when you want to, the tears never come. At some point, after watching every person you’ve ever cared for die in uniquely devastating ways, you must’ve reached your lifetime limit. 

“I know you. Something’s up.”

No, you don’t! You want to scream, but that would be a lie. It’s been three years since you met, maybe one since your….arrangement, or whatever you’d call it, had begun. 

How the two of you had become so close was a mystery even to you. It’s not like you were charming or charismatic, or willing to put up the innocent act. You didn’t try to inflate his ego, which most men loved. At first, you didn’t even really like him at all. That changed with time. Somewhere along the way, things just clicked.

“It’s nothing that no one has ever felt before,” you shrug. Joel has his fair….or rather unfair share of demons, and is the last person you want to complain to. Most of the time, he’s unflinchingly guarded, but he’s shared enough – secrets whispered in your ear while tangled in damp sheets, your hand on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart – to make you wonder if you have it so bad. Focusing on a fixed point, a crack in the tiled floor, you avoid his eyes.

“Hey,” his voice pulls you back. “Don’t do that.” 

“I’ll be okay,” you say. “I’m just having a d-a week.” A month, a year, a life. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze.

His face softens, his hand reaching to clasp with your own, thumb grazing across your palm. “Come here,” he murmurs. He pulls you against him tightly, tucking your head under his chin, his fingers weaving into your hair. 

“You’re going to be alright. You’re a strong girl.” He’s too smart to believe that, you think. But it doesn’t stop you from pressing your lips against his sternum. His broad chest is sturdy, firm, and you close down your eyes. 

Neither of you speak, and one of his hands begins to stroke your back in soothing circles. You stay wrapped in his arms for a long time. Long enough to think about how you might never get to do this again, and you suddenly want him in all the ways you never had him, and all the ways you had. Just one last time. 

He presses a kiss to your temple. “I can tell you’re exhausted, baby. Let’s get you to bed.”

There’s no reason to protest, he’s right, so you let him lead you to the bed. You’re already in your pajamas, and he draws back the covers and tucks you underneath them carefully. 

“You’re staying,” you say. It’s meant to be a question, but it comes out like command, and although you can’t stand the idea of pleading for it, would if you had to. You’re that desperate. 

You hear the clunk of his boots landing on the floor, feel the dip of his weight on the opposite side of the bed. 

“Of course,” he says softly, voice barely above a whisper as he slides underneath the covers. 

Joel’s arm snakes around your waist, and you’re being pulled back against his chest. You wriggle to be closer, even though it’s not possible, his nose resting on the crown of your head, stroking your hair softly. He’s being so tender, so sweet, it makes you feel sick.

“What if I don’t want you to leave?” you turn your head slightly, so you can see him out of the corner of your eye. You want to be able to remember his face, in case you never see him again. He was handsome, you’d always thought that, even despite the years between you. 

“It’s my brother. I don’t have much of a choice, baby.”

Joel had told you all about Tommy. You wished you could be resentful at his leaving to find his brother, but you knew you’d risk pretty much anything for the chance to see anyone in your family again. 

You shake your head. “This…sucks.” 

He offers a rare chuckle, one that vibrates through his chest and straight to the ache in your stomach that started when he told you he’d be leaving. “It does. I’m sorry.”

Joel sighs, his breath on the nape of your neck, and you shiver. “I’ll miss you.” It’s a simple truth you can hear in his voice without even needing to look in his eyes.

“I’ll miss you.” You reach for his hand. 

You roll over to face him, his head propped on his opposite hand, looking down at you. 

“You remember everything I taught you?” he asks. “Be smart, keep yourself safe.”

Joel had proven to be a pretty valuable resource when it came to survival skills. He’d taught you how to shoot a gun, to load and reload it, how to take it apart, clean it, and put it back together. You recalled the feeling of him leaning over your shoulder, adjusting your grip to shoot at a target. And even if most of his lessons in hand-to-hand combat resulted in him having his way with you on the kitchen floor – you didn’t mind it at all – you knew enough to defend yourself. 

“I do,” you answer. “And I will.”

You think of all the time you’ve spent with him the past few years. How it has made things bearable. It’s likely the last time you’ll ever see him, and you know what you’re supposed to say. But for the life of you, you just can’t say it.

Instead, you lean in to kiss him, lazy and lingering, both your hands on the side of his face, palms pressed against the scruff of his beard. You pull away after awhile.

“Tell me about what it was like. Before all this.” When the outbreak began, you were just a child. It felt like a dream, your memory so fuzzy it was hard to recall anything except the worst parts.

Joel does, and you listen, captivated, though it’s not the first time you’ve heard it. For such a gruff man, he paints a pretty picture.

It’s easy to imagine what your life might be like if none of this had ever happened. It would have been better, infinitely better, for yourself, for Joel, for everyone. It would be better, but if it hadn’t happened, you wouldn’t have met him. For some reason, something about that doesn’t feel right.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Memories [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 4k

summary: the case of the self-appointed Fisher King comes with too many sentimental implications and you discover that you and Spencer had more in common than you imagined.

warnings: mention of mental illness and some trauma

A/N: directly based on 2x01 of the series "The Fisher King" part 2

people who might be interested: @c-m-stuff @no-soy-fer @synthsescape @bella-fics @cynbx (if you want to be removed or added tell me!)

To say that you were worried about the case was an understatement, you were actually terrified of what might happen. An unsub holding a hostage, who was also her daughter, and who knew so much about each member of the team, was worrying in itself. But Elle being in a hospital dying, the case being so tied to Reid's life, and you being so stupidly far from knowing where Randall Garner was, was what made you want to throw up everything you'd eaten during your interrupted vacation.

The team, as always, had split up and throughout the investigation you had stayed with Spencer and Garcia to try to crack the riddle, using the man's brain, the woman's internet find-anything skills, and your vast knowledge of the world of codes and literature. During that period you never believed that the doctor's mother would be involved, much less did you think that she would find herself in the… condition she was in. Throughout the time she was there, he treated her sweetly and calmly, but you couldn't help noticing the discomfort that was palpable in the environment. Not that he was ashamed of her, of course, although you figured he didn't visit her very often and it was obviously not her intention for the entire BAU to find out that her mother was a schizophrenic who was in a sanatorium.

You remembered, hours ago, asking Garcia to let you tell the man that his mother was fine when he requested a plane to bring her to Virginia, and all day you had that conversation etched in your mind like a tattoo on your skin.

"Your mom it's ok" you had said, approaching her desk and leaning on it to look at it "Agents picked her up. She's flying here right now” you completed, although he seemed too amused with the piece of evidence that he had in his hand and then you felt the need to say something else “How are you?”

"I feel kind of dumb, to tell you the truth," he replied. Most of the time he avoided looking at you, but you had already gotten used to it “I forgot she used to always read me this poem. And I think that I should have realized sooner than that”

"Why?"

“Nobody knows things like the fact that JJ collects butterflies except for me,” he said, with a guilt-tinged shrug. “People tell me their secrets all the time. Think it's because they know I don't have anyone to betray them to… except… my mother. I... I tell her pretty much everything”

"It’s fine”

“Do you know that I write her a letter every day?”

"That's very nice," you said sincerely, for the idea of the man carefully writing a letter to tell his mother about the day was a sweet image to imagine.

“It depends on why I write her”

"What do you mean?"

“I write her letters so I won't feel so guilty about not visiting her,” Reid added. If it hadn't been for that case, probably you, or anyone, would have known that his mother was hospitalized and you thought it was completely logical that he didn't want others to find out about that part of his life about him, including that he didn’t visit her. Spencer was always available for everything, always working, always alone in his apartment and now that you knew about Diana you understood why. He waited a moment and then finally made eye contact with you, looking somewhat fearful “Did you know that schizophrenia is genetically passed?”

And when he mentioned that your world fell apart. You understood that this was the reason why he didn't go with her; because he was afraid. You didn't know how to react, at least not at that moment, and you just looked at him sadly, feeling your own heart tighten a little at unfortunate memories.

Although, for work reasons, the talk hadn't gone any further than that, you'd thought about it all along, even now that you were all gathered to put the last pieces together of what you hoped would be a successful puzzle.

"Nevada? So we don't even know what state he's in?” Hotch muttered, already quite frustrated at how fruitless the search was turning out. There was little time left and you all knew it.

“I'll search the tax records, see if he owns any property”

"Excuse me," Diana Reid intervened from the chair next to the blackboard and her son practically jumped to try and stop her.

"Mom, do you know we're..."

“Just before the agents got me from the hospital, a man delivered this to me” she continued, ignoring “It's a photo of a house with an address on the back”

After showing her direction she turned the image and you saw what was a house that looked just like a castle, with illuminated windows, trees around, and a night sky.

“Shiloh, Virginia?”

“That's only 10 miles from here”

"Well, there's no time to waste. Morgan and Reid are coming with me”

"I want to go too," you said immediately. Something about the whole thing gave you a very bad feeling and you wished you could help in any way you could, but you were surprised to see that Spencer was the first to oppose your request.

“We don't want anyone else to get hurt, Y/N,” Morgan added, his voice almost pleading for you to obey Hotch's orders. You were in no position to demand a ride and only agreed because you knew that an argument would only take away valuable time. “We have to get ready. Reid, let's go.”

"I'll be back soon, mom"

"I'll stay with her" you suggested, hastening to take a step towards him, in an attempt to continue your mission to help.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," you said to reassure him. Diana already seemed quite satisfied with the fact that you were going to accompany her and you still didn't know why “Go. And be careful, please."

"I will" he nodded and immediately went after Morgan and Hotch, the three of them leaving the room to carry out the rescue mission. You had your heart in your hand for thinking about what could happen to them and only the woman's voice brought you back to reality.

"I'm glad you're the one who stays"

"Really?" you asked, somewhat flattered to think that she had liked you within a couple of hours of knowing you. 

"Spencer talks to me about you all the time" she confessed and both you and the other two women present widened their eyes in surprise “He said you like literature"

"Yeah, I'd say so," you muttered, trying to smile at her to hide the nervous wreck you were, partly because of concern for your partners and partly because of what she had just told you.

"He's going to be fine, right?"

By God you hoped so. You didn't know what you would do if he got hurt or… he just didn't come back from there.

"Yes, I promise" you managed to say, as serenely as possible to try to keep your companion calm "And if you tell me about your favorite book? I imagine it will be a good one,” you said kindly, taking her arm and leading her to a couch where the two of you could sit. You knew that part of suggesting the talk was to distract yourself from the bleak outlook and thus kill time until the team returned.

Waiting was all you could do.

Diana had talked to you for a while until she ended up finding it more interesting to write in her notebook so you decided not to bother her, although she left you silent and ready for anxiety to grip you tight. After about an hour JJ herself had come to tell you that Elle was safe after surgery and you swore you could have cried with happiness when you found out. So, the pain that stayed in your chest was just from waiting for news from the three remaining agents and when what felt like an eternity passed without receiving any reports you couldn't take it anymore and apologized to Diana to leave the room. with the excuse that you needed to go to the bathroom. You were confident that she would not be a suicidal or aggressive patient, but you still wanted to hurry to get back to her as soon as possible, and when you had barely walked a section of the corridor you met a gangly figure who was already on his way to look for you.

"Rebeca?"

“She's safe” was the first thing you said, making the knot in your stomach finally dissolve “But Randall died. He blew himself up,” he continued, and you thought you wished you had heard a better outcome, even if the man was a criminal “And my mom?”

"Calm. Writing” you assured him, taking a few steps towards him to get a better look at him. He was dirty and what would later be a bruise could be seen on the left side of his face, but other than that he seemed to be safe and sound. "Is everyone there okay?"

"Yes," he breathed out. It was a relief to know that, it was a relief that things were finally over and that no one had been lost.

“I'm so grateful to hear that, Reid,” you said. You stretched your fingers up to his side and ran the tips over the mark that was beginning to form. "Does it hurt a lot?"

"No," he assured you, with a tight-lipped smile.

"Your mother. It will make her happy to know that you're back" you murmured immediately, and tried to go back the way you had come to go tell him, but he held out a hand to stop you "What's wrong?"

"Do you think I could take a moment before going with her?" he asked you and you retraced your steps to face him, still not letting go of his hand. You nodded and he sat on the floor with his legs drawn up and his back leaning against the wall in an attempt to calm down a bit from the adrenaline rush of all the previous events. You dropped down next to him in the same position and looked at his profile, thinking that if you had something to say, now was the time to talk.

“She told me you talk about me all the time,” you ventured, and he bit back an embarrassed smile.

"You weren't supposed to have found out about that"

"So you say bad things about me?"

"She didn't tell you?"

"No" you answered kindly.

"It's a relief"

“So these are definitely bad things, huh,” you teased, pushing your shoulder against his and seeing him shake his head slightly, too embarrassed to admit what he had written to his mother about you. You were silent for a moment as it didn’t seem that he had any intention of getting up to cross to the meeting room, you spoke again "Do you really not want to see her?"

“It's not that I don't want to see her, it's just that dealing with everything sometimes is so… so hard. You wouldn't understand,” he told you, his voice threatening to crack at any moment. You took a deep breath before opening your mouth to reply and the lonely hallway muffled your words, which were barely a whisper.

"What do you know about Alzheimer, Reid?" saying this, he turned a little to look at you, just in case he had misheard, but he realized that now it was you who wasn't looking at him.

"Excuse me?"

"Alzheimer" you repeated.

"Huh, it's a type of dementia that causes problems with memory, thinking, and behavior," he replied, still not quite sure why you were asking, “It is progressive, which means dementia symptoms gradually worsen over the years, and it is also the sixth leading cause of death in the United States. Live an average of eight years after symptoms become apparent, but survival can range from four to 20 years, depending on age and other health conditions. There is currently no cure."

“Have you ever lived with someone who has it?” you exclaimed and he shook his head. It was easier to look directly at you when you were the one who looked away “There are experimental treatments that reduce symptoms, but none are totally effective, appearing early in life in only about 5% to 6% of people. Although there is no defined cause, the genetic factor can affect you if you had a direct relative who suffered from early Alzheimer's” you exclaimed. He wanted to ask you why you were doing this exchange of information, but he thought it impolite to do so, so he just kept quiet "You said earlier that people tell you their secrets because you have no one to tell them to, but I'm sure it's not because that. We trust you because you are kind, understanding, but above all a good friend who we know will never judge us" you took a moment to take a deep breath again, feeling the nervousness running from the tip of your feet to your head and also to gather something of courage "I personally tell you because I am very afraid of starting to forget them"

It all clicked in Spencer's mind in a split second and he wished he was misreading things, searching your gaze so he could identify something that indicated you didn't mean what he was assuming.

"You…?” he started to say, but the question died on the tip of his tongue.

“It was my father. He was barely 35 years old when it all started, it was with the time he forgot to come to his birthday party. I remember it perfectly, he hadn't been feeling well for weeks due to the stress of work and the company decided to run all kinds of tests on him, without finding anything to worry about, so we just ignored it. But the symptoms recurred: he was disoriented, discouraged, sometimes he became aggressive with the family and forgot plans or things that we had told him. When he almost crushed one of his colleagues with a machine that he forgot that he was working, the company decided to give him a permanent break and we began to worry.

»By 36 it was already a fact that it was the beginnings of dementia. The doctors were surprised by the diagnosis because it is not very common to find the disease in patients of his age and for more explanations that we tried to find, we didn’t find any other. They prescribed a treatment that only kept him calm and it got to a point where it felt inhuman to drug him daily, and about two years after he got the diagnosis my mom decided it was better to put him in a mental hospital.

I was only fifteen years old at the time, but I already understood everything perfectly. I went to see him every day, after school, talked to him, read my homework to him, and we watched movies together, which to a certain extent made his illness feel tolerable. The worst thing at that point was that he asked me to watch the same movie as the day before or that he asked me if I was nervous about the exam I had done a week ago" you looked at the man just to make sure he was following the story, which that you verified with the way he was looking at you; fully attentive.

“Anyway, the years went by and it got more and more complicated. Sometimes a nurse had to remind her of my name and at some point my mother just gave up, probably when my father completely disowned her and started yelling all over the hospital that a woman was harassing him in her room. I continued to visit him, but when I grew up and entered the FBI academy my hours were cut down considerably, so in recent years I only went to see him once a week.

»At 42 my father no longer knew that I was his daughter, he thought that I was a nurse doing social service by keeping him company. He talked to me all the time about his family and sadly told me that neither his wife nor his daughter had been to see him for a long time, but I assured him that they had both asked me to tell him that they loved him very much and that they would go soon” silent for a moment, careful not to burst into tears, and prepared to finish the story “He died during my first year as a BAU agent. I saw his decline over the years and even at the end I think he left thinking that his family had abandoned him. I don't talk to my mother anymore, because I think she feels very guilty about me for having left me all the burden of taking care of my father. But every day I feel at peace with myself because despite how painful it was to see him, I never left him.

»Many times I cried before entering the hospital and when leaving, thinking that I had to pretend to be able to spend a moment with the person I loved the most and who was now only a ghost of what my father once was. And it was terrible to look at it and think that this was my future, even to this day. They say that reading is a good exercise to reduce risk and that's why I always carry a book wherever I go, that's why I always want to do new things and that's why I strive every day to solve our cases because I don't know when the last. I have gone to specialists who have told me that there is nothing to worry about and that, if I have it, Alzheimer's could last until I am an old woman, but even so I am afraid every day.

If I really get sick and manage to get old, the most likely thing is that I will end up in a sanatorium, but right now what is worth it are the things I do every day. I'm scared, yes, but it's worth fighting for if I can help people in this job and especially if I can live with people like you.

I know you said that I wouldn't understand, but the truth is that of all the people in this building I can assure you that I am the one who can do it best. I know that you can't bear to see her because you are afraid of ending up with her like her and that at the same time you are so worried that you take the time to write everything about your life to her. I'm probably boring you with all this stuff that you never asked me to tell you, but I just wanted to tell you how important it is that you be with your mom. And more than doing it for her, do it for you.

I would only give you one piece of advice, which you can decide to take or not: don't waste your time, Spencer. Your mother loves you very much, go and talk to her, accompany her, listen to everything she has to tell you and forgive her faults if there are any. Because you don't know about her when it may be the last time you see her, either for your health or for hers”

There was total silence. You hadn't noticed until that moment that your cheeks were already wet from crying and you still didn't dare to look at his face. No person knew that part of you, because after your father got worse you had decided not to talk about it with anyone, so you could say that you were practically giving your heart to that man bruised by the mission a few hours ago. Suddenly you thought that perhaps you had talked for too long or that for him it had no relevance and he had only stayed to listen to you because he was not rude enough to leave you talking to yourself. But while your head was drawing the wrong conclusions, something you never expected happened: Spencer extended his hands to you and wrapped you in a hug.

It only took a bit of effort to make their bodies fit perfectly and he clenched the fabric of your knitted sweater in his fists, tucking his head into the crook of your neck to allow you to lean yours against his golden hair. It was as if all the time you had been destined for that particular moment, fused in that embrace that communicated everything that words could no longer express.

He wasn't the person who loved physical contact the most, all of you had noticed that, so hugging him was totally new to you. The feeling of peace that this brought you had no comparison point and the softness of his body covered you completely.

“I had no idea,” he murmured, the sound of his voice muffled by your skin. And Spencer was being completely honest, because he didn't even imagine that you could fully understand him after having lived through such a tragic story. He had understood many things thanks to your story and he was eternally grateful that he had felt the confidence to tell him something like this, so he also thought that maybe it was his turn to be honest with you "What my mom said is true, I always talk to her about you. I tell her that you are the sweetest companion I have ever had, that you always pay attention to me, and that you make sure that I feel comfortable wherever we go. I tell her that you are strong, that I want to be half as brave as you, and I also tell her that I have never felt affection and gratitude for someone as I feel for you, because you have made these two years different from any other time in my life” his words, whispered so close to you and drenched in so much love, only intensified your tears "And as long as my conscience remains intact, I assure you that if I need to remind you of all the secrets you have told me, I will do it"

That, more than a proposal, was a declaration of pure love that promised to reach many years into the future.

"Maybe we'll even end up in the same sanitarium, you and me, huh?" you exclaimed, with a slightly joking tone "And so I will have the opportunity to know your wonders again every day"

You felt on your neck that you managed to get a smile out of him and that made you smile too. That's when he pulled away so he could look at you.

“I think that… I will go with my mother back to Nevada. I guess we both deserve it, don't you think?" he told you and you nodded with a small smile. He didn't want to leave your side, but you got up first and held out your hand to help him do the same.

“She still has enough lucidity to tell me what your favorite food is. Maybe you should eat with her on the plane” you suggested. You didn't want to rob him of any more time he could spend with his mother, so you just wished him luck and started walking in another direction.

"Y/N, before you go" he called out to you. You were already a fair distance away, but it was enough for you to still speak in a small voice. "You know you're not alone, right?"

You smiled as he looked at you with those eyes that only showed sincerity, and you wished you could encapsulate that moment for eternity.

"I know" you replied calmly "And I trust that now you know it too"

[nikoniclove]

Hi! So i was re-reading first date and i was wondering if you could maybe write that ace, reid magic for magic where it all blows up in her face?? i would love to see how that came to be and what happened between both “magicians” and how jj and emily reacted to seeing that?

Here you go! It’s just a short blurb, so I’ll add it here.

Retaliation

You bond over battling robots first and foremost when one of the first cases you work on takes you to Vegas. You overhear Reid excitedly telling JJ about the Battle Bots, feats of science and engineering in the form of 250 lb robots duking it out in a secure arena. You join in on the conversation, sharing your thoughts on the different types of weapons the bots deploy. JJ chuckles, shaking her head at the shared enthusiasm.

Then it's magic tricks, and while Reid is obviously more adept at sleight of hand, you can hold your own with a deck of cards. Things start to get out of hand when you both foray into one-upping each other with exploding science tricks. It starts because he hits you in the forehead with his film canister trick. It continues because you retaliate by super gluing a Mentos to a piece of dental floss and sticking it in the lid of his Coke bottle. When he opens it, the Mentos falls into the carbonated soda and explodes all over his desk. Emily flat-out laughs with her glee while JJ tries to be stern, insisting that you and Reid are acting like children. "He started it," you retort.

"Maybe so, don't make me finish it," JJ threatens, hiding a smirk.

Reid isn't one to be outdone when it comes to science experiments, so he swaps your lunch for an ivory bar of soap in the bullpen microwave, which explodes into a flakey mess. You grumble the entire time you're cleaning out the piece of equipment.

One evening, Rossi demands attendance for dinner - pasta, wine, cigars, the usual. By this point, you've done the team nights more than a few times. You're more well-integrated into the team than you thought you'd be. To be fair, you're sleeping with two members of said team, so well-integrated is a particularly amusing phrase in that regard. In any sense, a dinner at Rossi's is the perfect time to get Reid back. Emily watches you carefully prepare a small tissue with some baking soda inside of it, folded into a perfect little envelope. "Don't let Jen see you doing that. She'll put you in timeout," Emily teases.

You shrug. "Reid has a lesson to learn."

"I don't doubt that," she laughs. "Try not to blow up Rossi's wine or cigar collection when you strike."

You bide your time and wait until Reid is outside, mostly to heed Emily's warning of not having the bag explode on something Rossi might not appreciate. When it's time, you take your gallon-sized bag with the appropriate ratio of water and vinegar. You drop the tissue of folded baking soda into the baggy, sealing it quickly and giving it a little shake. You drop it just behind Reid and shift to the other side of the patio under the guise of refilling your wine glass. And you wait.

When the bag explodes with a loud pop, Reid shrieks in a high-pitched startled tone. JJ flinches. Morgan and Emily are doubled over laughing. You are very, very pleased with yourself. At least until you see that JJ sloshed red wine all over herself. "Ace," she growls.

"Sorry," you grimace. "I'll go get you a fresh shirt."

"Nope," JJ insists. "You," she points. "And you," she points to Reid. "This is over. It's two for two, and I'm calling it. You hear me? Done. Finito. No more exploding retaliation." When you and Reid look properly scolded, JJ hands you her glass. "I'm going to go change. When I come back, there better be a fresh glass of wine and some tiramisu I know Rossi has somewhere."

Emily squeezes your shoulder, happy tears in her eyes, while Morgan taunts Reid for his dramatic reaction. "I probably should have included a note about JJ and pranks in my earlier warning." Then she whispers in your ear. "The key to getting back on her good side is that thing you do with your tongue."

[haowrld]

GOING ON DATES W/ SEVENTEEN

NOTES : seventeen x gn!reader, fluff, humor, romance

WORD COUNT : 1.5k words

WARNINGS : mentions of dying (as a joke), one curse word

A/N : not proofread. i think my brain has been drained. working on thirteen members could literally be like working on thirteen stories…wow like idk how ppl write for thirteen ppl

MASTERLIST

SEUNGCHEOL

dog cafe dates. the excitement he has when he sees multiple dogs running to him. seungcheol hadn’t touched his dessert when tapped your shoulder, “yn look,” he whispers to you when you see a dog in his lap, sleeping peacefully. and wow, it makes your heart melt, “do you want to feed it?” you give him a snack for the dog, the dog immediately jumping at the sight of it. looking at the dog who is licking seungcheol’s fingers, it would definitely remind you of his dog kkuma. seungcheol would hold your hand as both of you would talk about pets. this date was definitely such a serotonin boost for seungcheol and you would know that he might visit this café more often.

JEONGHAN

lego building dates. “flower lego set?” with music filling the room, you and jeonghan would have different things to build, “there’s so many blocks…” you mumble to yourself as you look at jeonghan who’s calmly working on his lego set. “i finished the other flower,” jeonghan would always tell you when he’s finished with each pieces. each lego building with jeonghan will never be awkward, his hums with the music and the sound of clicking of legos, this date with him is always calming. as both of you finally finish building the lego set, he would smile as he places his flower bouquet lego set next to your orchid lego set. “let’s build a castle next,” he jokes, making you playfully slap his shoulder.

JOSHUA

pottery dates. pottery has become one of joshua’s many hobbies, and he thought maybe he could show off his neat skills. “you’re doing amazing yn! love the handle of the cup,” joshua would compliment you doing the little fixes of your cup, joshua would also try to help you out with your cup, hands touching, “here, so you do this…” he quietly says as he guides your hands, smoothing out the clay. even when he’s focused on painting his plate, you would see him stealing glances at you. you’re painting stars and (◠‿◠) in your cup, which joshua would notice and give you the same eye smile. both of you would place your finished products in the coffee table and place paper flowers in the cup.

JUNHUI

picnic dates. “okay, three, two, one” as junhui removes the blindfolds, you are welcome with the morning light, and junhui’s warm smile. wine glass are filled with refreshments as you both share stories and just enjoy each other’s company, you also take pictures of junhui from time to time. playing with junhui’s hair as he’s resting his head on your lap, he looks at you with eyes that are too much for your heart to handle. “question, do you love me?” he asks you, even though he already knows what you’re going to answer. with all your heart, you love wen junhui.

SOONYOUNG

amusement park dates. the atmosphere is filled with energy and screams of both kids and adults. both of you hold hands after a fun go-kart ride, “maybe we could grab something to eat,” you mention before soonyoung goes to a full stop before running to the large rollercoaster “let’s go ride that rollercoaster!” as soonyoung drags you closer to the ride, you feel a pit on your stomach, seeing the large loops and hearing the loud screams of the people. the ride would be shaky as you’re taking deep breaths, you look at soonyoung who’s telling you how much he loves you and how he’s going to miss you and everyone, you begin to become teary eyed, not because of soonyoung saying he loves you, but because you’re almost at the drop.

WONWOO

videogame dates. so many games to choose from, maybe switch games, or maybe stories with storylines. “we could play bread and fred,” you mention as wonwoo looks it up curiously. wonwoo’s room could be filled with screams, seeing your own character literally face plant would be the most funniest and stressful feeling you have ever felt. “if we jump at the same time–ah AHH,” wonwoo screams as his character accidentally falls with you. but at the same time it could be filled with tears. as you tear up from playing a sad game, wonwoo would wipe your tears away, cuddling with you.

JIHOON

sleepover dates. “it looks so pretty,” jihoon looks at your bright smile at the pillow fort that he made for you. there would be bunch of snacks laid out neatly and the tv is airing one of jihoon’s favorite anime (what a nerd). as jihoon rambles about the beautiful gem that is cardcaptor sakura, he looks over to you sleeping, as much as he wants to watch you sleep, how dare you sleep on his essay. you jolt awake, feeling a bit of pain on your forehead. “i haven’t finished talking and here you are sleeping,” jihoon says as he steals the blanket from you. “it’s too cold!” you get closer to jihoon, cuddling close to him. “i’m too tired for this..” you say which makes jihoon laugh, “yeah, i’ll tell you about it tomorrow, just get some sleep,” you look at jihoon with tired eyes before saying quietly, “goodnight..”

MINGHAO

dinner dates. “you look handsome tonight darling,” minghao smiles before gently holding your face and kissing your lips. the mood of your home is romantic, rose scented candle is lit and piano is quietly playing in the background. minghao would tell stories of his family and many more you haven’t learned about. clinking your glasses, minghao shuffles in his seat before giving you a small box. “i thought you might like this…” as you open the box, you find a small silver necklace, decorated beautifully. minghao smiles when you give him a tight embrace.

MINGYU

shopping dates. mingyu is literally going to drag you around each shop that catches your eye, like would notice you would be eyeing at an outfit at the window before mingyu is just casually saying, “wanna buy it?”. even with the tags in your outfit mingyu would immediately be taking pictures you as if you are an actual model. “yn, what do you think of my fit?” don’t forget to give him compliments when he comes out of that dressing room looking stylish. “i think this ring looks pretty on you,” mingyu shows you a lovely ring before sliding it on your pointer finger, see now you guys have matching rings.

SEOKMIN

joyride dates. seokmin would blast the speakers with his favorite songs, having a fun time just driving around. “can i press the horn?” seokmin at first would look at you confused as you are unbuckling your seatbelt, BEEP BEEP, it would go quiet before seokmin would burst out laughing. you guys would have food bought from mcdonalds and park at some empty parking space. “stop stealing my fries!” seokmin slaps your hand away. you guys would stargaze at the sky, taking a sip of your drinks. “isn’t the sky beautiful tonight?” he looks at you curiously, before thinking about what to answer. “yes. you’re beautiful tonight,” he answers, as he gives your hand a tight squeeze.

SEUNGKWAN

arcade dates. as soon you guys would walk in, there’s so many things to do in this bustling arcade, should you and seungkwan shoot some hoops? play fighting games? you find a thriller shooting game, taking him as he says, “wait! what if we actually die..!?”. after trying to save seungkwan from a bunch of zombies, you notice seungkwan’s eyes sparkle, the claw machine has a stuffed bear that has the vibes of seungkwan…? “UGH! THIS CLAW MACHINE IS RIGGED!” seungkwan sighs in frustration as he looks at his game card, he has one more try. looking at you gives him a bit of hope, as he looks at the toy, carefully, it drops. you and seungkwan scream in excitement, quickly grabbing the bear, seungkwan looks at you before giving you a quick kiss.

VERNON

ice skating dates. vernon was always the type to try out new activities and this one was another one on his bucket list, “woah, woah,” the cool air brushes against your face as you slowly put your skates on the ice ground. vernon, of course is easily gliding on the ice rink. he would try to help you get used to skating, though it usually causes both of you to slip on the ground. “vernon, don’t think i could do it anymore…” you tell him, “ai, come on get up, get up,” he takes your hand, pulling you up. “let’s take things slow, ‘kay?” vernon holds your hand, as both of you carefully move around the rink. though there was a bit of shaking and nervousness from you, vernon is willing to take things slow for you.

CHAN

beach dates. “chan! how do i look?” ‘wow, can i marry you right now?’ is what chan would say to you, but he can’t form any other response but just “wow,”. you and chan would collect sea shells, looking the most prettiest one and showing it to each other, “mine looks prettier,” you say, “no! mine is better!” chan retaliates. other cute things you guys would do, hand holding while walking along the shore. it’s sweet and all until would suddenly push you close to the water, falling in the process. “you little shit!” chan laughs at your predicament, “wait yn! no AH!” you grab chan into the water getting him soaked. “now we’re even,” you grin as chan laughs, tackling you.

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©️HAOWRLD

[seungiepop]

𝑵𝒐 𝑵𝒖𝒕 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓

just a little taste

pairing: enha x best friend reader

characters: all enha members, Shin Yuna (itzy), Choi Beomgyu (TXT), and Mark lee (NCT)

caution: sexual context (only implied on the legal line), cursing, the reader is an 03’ line with sunoo and yuna

genre: social media au and one shots

wc: 1.8k

Masterlist | previous | next

ⓝⓝⓝ

“you really do know how to make a good cupcake..”

Yuna moaned, taking another bite of the delicious raspberry cupcake. The older girl smiled amusingly towards her friend, taking a bite of her own chocolate cupcake.

The two girls sat on their living room floor, an ashtray filled with four big nugs, a few joint papers and clean blunt leaves right in front of them as they waited for their other friends to show up. “There’s no more toilet paper in your bathroom-” a voice suddenly spoke from afar. Beomgyu walked into the living room with an empty toilet paper roll in his hands “-and I couldn’t find your trash can..”.

“Did you even try looking for it?” Yuna huffed standing up from her spot and taking the roll from his hand to throw it away.

Beomgyu shrugged, walking over to the single couch, slumping down on the soft furniture, “What time are the no nut losers coming?” he asked, pulling out his phone to look at his messages. “In a bit, Jay said he had to stop to the store for some drinks” Y/n answered before stuffing the rest of her cupcake in her mouth and cleaning off her fingers with the napkin she had.

Picking up the tray, she began to pull apart the nugs into smaller pieces before placing them in the grinder to grind them up into even smaller pieces. “So how are you planning on breaking these boys?” Beomgyu spoke, looking away from his screen to see his friend shrugging “I don’t know. I mean I know they would give in to whatever, but they might actually try on winning this stupid challenge.” Y/n has thought of many ways she could make each other give in to her shenanigans but she always knew they were very competitive and they might not be willing to cooperate so easily.

“THE PARTY HAS ARRIVED!” a sudden voice shouted from the entrance hall.

Y/n snickered watching Sunghoon tipsily walked into their living room “oh my baby!” he slurred, spotting the female on the ground. Walking towards her he leaned down to lift her chin and place a sloppy kiss on her cheek. Scrunching her face at the slight smell of alcohol on his breath she patted his cheek, cooing at his relaxed face that leaned to her sudden touch.

“you drunk my hoon?”

He shook his head “nooo, just tipsy”

Y/n chuckled at the boy and handed him one of the pre roll she had in her shirt pocket.

“Where is jay? He said he had drinks.” Yuna spoke walking out of her room. Y/n pointed towards the kitchen spotting two of the youngest members of their friend group.

“Hey Wonie!” Y/n greeted the younger boy with a smile.

The male smiled at the pretty girl standing in front of him, slightly blushing when she caressed both his dimpled cheeks “Hi noona!” he spoke in a trance, almost like he got hypnotized by her sudden touch.

Y/n went around and greeted the rest of her friends before making her way towards the kitchen to grab herself a drink, grabbing a cup from the stack she poured herself some of the liquor the boys had out on display, topping it odd with some juice she gave it a small taste. Satisfied with her drink leaned back against the kitchen drawers, her mind wondering how the hell she was going to get through all six guys in less than a month.

oh my god, im literally gonna be a whore for a stupid spider-man console.

Walking into the living room she placed her drink on the table, she asked Jay for the bong he had placed on his lap. Jay gladly handed her the glass object and lighter, telling her to be careful before continuing his conversation with Yuna, eyes not leaving her form for a second.

Y/n sat on her knees gently placing the bong on the table in-front of her. She grabbed the small bag of the grinded weed and carefully began to fill up the pipe until it was all nice and full. Her hands wrapping around the base of the bong as she began to leaned down towards the mouthpiece.

Before she was able to lean in a pair of hands grasp her loose locks, from the corner of her eye she could see Jay behind her. One hand holding her hair while the other held a half smoked blunt. Taking the opportunity she leaned down and lit up the small bowl, watching the way the water bubbled up and created the large cloud of smoke pilling up inside the glass. Taking out the bowl she inhaled the large cloud of smoke, letting it sit for a second before blowing it out.

Jay watched with hooded eyes, the girl's head leaned back against his legs, the drug slowly getting her more and more higher.

Out of all the girls he’s smoked with, Y/n had to be one of the prettiest ones yet, and to say he’s smoked with a lot of females back in his freshman year in college.

Letting go of the grip he had on her hair she opened her eyes and smiled dazedly at him “you look so pretty darling.” he softly spoke, the side of his lip curling at the sudden tint on her cheeks.

Y/n placed her hand on his thigh, moving her body so it was facing his standing one. Jay felt himself almost choke at her sudden change of position.

Is this how she would look on her knees for me? he thought.

Y/n bit back her giggle, removing her hand and holding it out “help me up please?” she sweetly smiled.

Taking her smaller hands in his he pulled her up like nothing “thank you!” reaching up she placed a kiss on the taller male's cheek.

y/n one, jay zero.

“That’s a nice way to start off— but I think you can do better.” Beomgyu spoke against his cup, taking a large chug of the strong liquid. “You think?” she hummed, tilting her head to inspect each of the guys leaning on the arm of the couch he was sitting on.

Each doing their own thing and looking stupidly hot doing too “Oh for sure! I mean look at Jungwon, the kid looked like he was going to bust a nut from a little cheek rub.”

“Leave him alone.” she hissed, pinching the side of his arm.

The older male winced, rubbing the sore spot “whatever.”

“Y/nnnn! Do you have any ointment? I’ve cut myself trying to open these jellies.”

Y/n furrowed her brows in confusion, walking over to the sitting male across from her. She leaned down to inspect his lip, noticing the small cut “poor baby-“ she cooed, pulling him up from his chin and leading him to her room “-let’s get that cleaned up.”

Closing the door behind them Y/n pointed to her bathroom letting him know she’ll be there in a minute. Grabbing the small first aid kit from her closet, noticing the mirror she walked and took a look at herself. She was still wearing her work outfit but it was cute enough to make him go crazy.

“Ok, let me see those lips, pretty boy.”

Setting the kit on the counter she turned to look over at the male who was sitting on the edge of the tub. Signaling him to pout his lip she gently started dabbing the ointment on his wound “sorry” she hummed at the small hiss he began to let out.

“All done!”

“Thank you sweet girl!” he smiled, caressing the exposed skin of her hip.

Y/n bit her lip, trying to contain herself from letting out the giggle that was trying to escape. “wait an hour before smoking again, so the ointment can set in!” she instructed. “Yes ma’am.” he hummed, sliding down his hand to her lower back pulling her closer to him.

its go time

Wrapping her arms around his neck she slightly leaned down closer to his face “does it still hurt?” she asked, looking down at the now slightly bruised lil. He shook his head no “A pretty nurse fixed it all up for me.” giggling at the nickname she kissed the corner of his lips where it began to swell. “I hope that made it better..” she whispered against his lips.

Jake stop thinking with your dick

the bet

oh but look at those glossy lips

maybe just a little taste

“Jakey…” her voice made him feel captivated like he was hypnotized.

Just a kiss jake just one tiny little kiss

Leaning in he gently placed his lips on hers, humming at the taste of the weed combined with the sweet taste of her gloss. Y/n smiled knowing she had won this one without him even knowing or did she? Deepening the kiss he placed his hand on the side of her neck. The way his tongue dipped inside her mouth made her melt, her hands making their way up to his neck, grabbing a hold of the back of his hairs, giving it a light tug.

god how can someone taste so good

Pulling the girl into his lap he brought his hand down towards her inner thighs, feeling the soft skin in his palm. This wasn’t the first time she’s done stuff like this with Jake or with any of the guys (except Ricky, gyu, and Mark of course). So just knowing how hard it was going to be for them made the bet a little more exciting.

Y/n started to rub her clothed cunt against his jeans, the fabric adding the right amount of pressure against her clit.

“Mhm, fuck-“ she panted

Jake could feel himself get hard as she grinded against him.

fuck wai-

Her hand slid down his chest down to his crotch, palming him through the rough fabric. Before Y/n could even unbuckle his belt or Jake could even pull her off him there was a loud knock on the door. Getting off his lap Y/n fixed her skirt and opened the door, an awkwardly looking beomgyu holding onto his crotch.

beomgyu i love you bro

“Sorry” he mouthed, pushing the girl over to the side not being able to hold his bladder that was seconds of exploding.

The other two walked out her room, Y/n had a faint smirk on her lips giving her only female friend a wink who gave her a questioning look passing the blunt she had on her fingers.

Yuna looked over at Jake, a pillow was covering his lower half “dude nice!”

the two girls fist bumping on the low.

“no fucking way ja-“ Sunoo laughed

“shut it!”

ⓝⓝⓝ

∙ ₒ✰. ∙✧. ∘ ₒ® ✦. ✰∙ ★ ∘ₒ © ∙ ₒ ✰ ∙ ✧ ∘ₒ ® ✦ ✰

Authors note: literally was turnt while typing this so I hope my high self did a good job! :)

taglist- @ilovecheese09 @namdeyuoi @moonshoon @xrr-s4sha @yannew @cup1dton @eternallyreid @heewonenthusiast @rikisly @parkhonnie @wvnkoi @slugism @yizhoutv @jakewife @bahngchatsfx @kangseulgithegreat

( if the blog isn’t a tinted color then it’s not letting me tag you )

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 24

Tyler Durden and Jack “The Narrator” + masks and/or helmets

I’m sorry to anyone who was hoping for Jason Vorhees, but I’ve been watching my comfort movie (fight club) to destress from my assignments, so I got in the mood to write for these two.

Tyler is his own person in this, cuz I want both to go down on me at the same time, thats the only reason.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist

Welding had never been your plan for a job, especially not where you found yourself now. Low ranked and forced to do all the shit work your jackass boss couldn’t be assed to do, leaving you alone in the construction yard in the middle of the night, the welding tool hot and dangerous in your gloved hands as it cast an almost evil glow upon your welding helmet, the light reflecting off the glass that covered your eyes.

Imagine your surprise some group of jackasses show up at your construction site. They seemed surprised to see you as you turned around and slid up the front of your helmet to look at them, but the bags under your eyes and the dead look in them seemed to make them see you as one of their own. One of them was even polite enough to ask if they could use the yard for some kind of weird orgy club they had going on, or at least you thought it was an orgy club.

You shrugged and told them if they gave you fifty bucks a night, they could kill a guy there and you wouldn’t give a shit. Hey, there were at least ten guys, they could cough up five dollars each if they wanted to start wailing on each other as you worked.

This continued, multiple nights a week, because of course your shithead boss had you working extremely late hours every day for shit pay, and because of your lack of education and shitty upbringing you couldn’t just drop the job. The fifty bucks a night did help quite a lot, and at some point you didn’t even need to do all that extra work, but you kinda enjoyed watching all these pathetic meatheads and self-proclaiming alpha-males trying to show off just how tough they were by beating on each other.

You never took part in it, but “the guy in the welder helmet runs the place” became some kind of rumour, just because they paid you to let them use the place. Apparently, you not doing any of the fighting made them think you were some kind of bigshot, a member of “project mayhem”, whatever that was.

It might also have been the muscle you had packed on from years of physical labour and your less then friendly attitude that made them think you were more then you were. But hey, you kept welding, but kept half an eye on the group of blood thirsty men, a group that only seemed to grow every night. So much for an “exclusive” group.

One day some guy with ugly spiked hair and a douchey red leather jacket swaggered his way over to you as you half-assed a weld between a couple of pipes. He had a cigarette hanging between his lips, like a real asshole, as he leaned against the pipe you were trying to weld, messing up your already shitty work. You could do a lot better, but you were in no way paid enough to care.

You could tell he was trying to antagonise you, as he would start showing up every night this so-called fight club happened, always trying to push your buttons, and even once putting out his cigarette against the one way glass protecting your eyes.

You were great at ignoring fools like him, so none of his actions got the reaction he seemed so starved for. The one that really caught your attention was this scrawnier guy, who looked like he hadn’t slept in months. It was like watching a corpse walking around, but something unleashed inside him when he fought. It was like a rabid dog with a piece of meat, it made your insides boil.

It was him that finally got you to join the fight, though you spat at their rules, keeping your welding helmet on, because why not, it looked sexy. You could definingly tell your years of labour had served you well from the way some of the guys around the place were looking at you, like they wanted to fight you or fuck you, maybe both.

The sleep deprived corpse, who you later learned was named Jack, tried his damn best to get the upper hand on you. But your uncle used to breed pitbulls and other types of large fighting dogs, so scruffing him and putting him in the ground was too damn easy. The erection on his pants wasn’t hard to see either, but you’d seen enough of this circle-jerk of a club to know it was normal, adrenaline, they always said.

You honestly had no idea how you found yourself in the situation you would find yourself in weeks later. You had finally started taking part in a couple of fights, but the helmet always stayed on no matter how much anyone complained, and you only really cared to fight Jack.

Even when the fucker in the red leather jacket whined and draped himself across you. You learned he was Tyler Durden, apparently him and Jack created this Fight Club junk. Tyler annoyed you though, always talking about society and changing it, you had clocked him once when he just wouldn’t shut up.

One day you found yourself packing down your gear, fight club had ended early today for some reason, you didn’t pay attention to that stuff, you were just there for a show. Tyler had been the first to pull up on you, Jack following not far behind, and when you had grunted what they wanted, Tyler had pounced like an overexcited puppy.

He had started licking the helmet you wore, his spit streaking across the glass of your mask, his breath leaving a foggy texture against it as you gripped onto his jaw, your work rough hands gripping hard enough to definitely leave a bruise.

Tyler was groaning like hed been shot, moaning something about how hot that stupid helmet was, and how sexy you were because you never took it off. You almost threw him across the yard when you felt hands undoing your belt. Snapping your head down you saw Jack on his knees in front of you, he had a busted lip and a black eye, but it somehow added to his charm.

His lips were soft, and his tongue was slightly hesitant as he started sucking you off, Tyler groaning and panting into the metal of your helmet, that was close to where your mouth would have been. You could feel him slobbering all over you, his tongue probably picking up all the grime the helmet had collected over the many weeks you’d gone without cleaning it.

Tylers slobbering was starting to get annoying, so with a grunt you gripped kicked his knees out from under him, making him crash to his knees with a painful crack against the pavement. His eyes seemed to lock on where Jack had been licking and almost worshipping your cock with his mouth, spit and drool dripping off of you and his mouth as he looked up at you with large blown pupils.

Tyler, the attention starved fool he was quickly butted in, his higher skilled tongue started to lap at the base of your length, even ducking in between your thighs to mouth as your sack. You couldn’t help but snort as you ran your gloved fingers through Jacks short hair in an almost loving manner, whilst also gripping and twisting in Tylers gelled hair with the other hand.

Something about seeing their reflection in the reflective glass of your welding helmet only seemed to excitement further, especially Tyler as he drooled, barely even seeming to make an inkling of an effort to keep spit in his mouth. Jack seemed at least a little shy about it, avoiding looking at himself but somehow always ending back at his reflection.

You didn’t tell them you were close, but they seemed to notice from how your hips twitching or your grunting grew rougher. Tyler almost shoved Jack aside to start tonguing at your tip right beside Jack, their tongues rubbing up against each other around your tip in some kind of French kiss.

Tyler had been moaning and groaning loudly the entire time, seemingly getting off at the volume of his noises, where Jack had been more subdued but still present. There was almost a battle of their tongues as you came, spurting white across wet wiggling muscles that tried to catch as much of it as possible.

Surprisingly, or maybe not to surprising, Tyler roughly grabbed Jack and started making out with him like he was trying to swallow him whole when you finished, swapping the mixture of spit and cum between them like a pair of starved animals. You scoffed a small laugh at the sight of them almost humping each other as they kept rubbing their tongues together obscenely, and here you thought Fight Club was a good show.

Tucking yourself back into your pants, you patted them both on the head to get their attention. When they finally pulled away from their sloppy sorry excuse of a kiss to look up at you, you pushed up the welders’ helmet and looked at them, quirking a questioning brow.

That seemed to be enough to get them going, the two almost skittering after you as you started trekking back to your bucket of a car to head home, your roommate would have to put up with the noises you knew you were gonna rip out of those two, so what if you had to keep the helmet on, they were right, it was kinda hot.

[ssivinee]

✧The Dancer to the Music✧

BEBE! Kim Taeyoung, aka Tatter x Composer! Producer! F Reader: After not seeing each other for so long, you surprised your best friend at her studio. Work had been rough the past few days so you assumed seeing your friend could fix that, but it was someone else that does.

Word Count: 3.5k

Note: Ahhhhh, my first Tatter fic. Tatter simps rise😌. My other gf needs some love, too. I've done my civil duties and will now go to bed🙃

Character Vision Board

Being a composer in the music scene was always a dream of yours. While growing up, your parents surrounded you with the beauty of instruments and melodies. So it was evident for you to pick up your talents due to your parent's infatuation with music. Yet you never wanted the fame of being a singer, so you stuck to staying behind the scenes, writing music for several artists.

You sat in your cold studio, sipping on the hard hitting energy drink as you stared at the computer screen. Eyes never wavering at the sight of several color-codded melodies. The song felt bare and not up to your standards, causing a groan of frustration to emerge.

I need a break, was all you thought before leaving your room. You walked around the current building you were working at, the famous SM Entertainment. 2 years ago, you were merely a freelance composer, taking any project handed your way.

An SM representative then got ahold of you, saying they've been keeping an eye on you for a while and had a proposition for you. Before you knew it, a week later, you were signing a contract under the entertainment, becoming an in-house composer and producer, even gaining your first big shot project.

Better by BoA.

After the release, more and more tasks were flowing your way, SM making sure you had work to do 24/7. So now you were here, trying to piece together something for NCT's Ten.

As much as you loved your job, you couldn't deny hitting a stump. Truth be told, this happened quite often, but you usually got over it after a day or two. Yet it had been a week, and you had nothing but a simple chord progression and bass that was spaced out.

You make your way over to the hallway full of dance studios, trying to clear your mind, and you think of the perfect people to do so. Entering the room, you hear the soft volume of a song and see some of your favorite friends in the company.

"Oh shoot, nice to see you out of your cave," Jeno jokes at the sight of you after being trapped in the studio for 7 hours straight. "Dude, leave her alone," Bada says, approaching you to encase you in a warm hug.

"Seriously though, you didn't leave that room since you got here this morning," Taeyong points out, voicing his worry for the younger girl.

Ten sighs at you, "I know you're a perfectionist, Y/n, but don't stress too much over my song. Okay?" The Thai member knew how stuck you've been the past week, as he spoke to you almost every day about your progress. "I can't help it, oppa. This is your first release after Paint Me Naked, so it has to be amazing."

Bada rubs your arm in consolidation, "Maybe you need a new change of pace for now? How about the lyrics for the song? Got anything?"

You keep your head down, silence answering Bada's questions, and she sighs. "It's probably an inspiration issue," Jeno says, and your head whips up quickly. "That might actually be the problem."

"You need a change of scenery for sure. Been staring at your computer screen for almost a month straight," Taeyong says with some pats on your back. Your eyes finally had a glimmer of hope after the past weeks, with the long days tiring you out.

A light bulb then flickers in your head, "Unnie, do you have a class coming soon?" You ask the tall woman, who answers perplexed, "Uh, yeah. Tomorrow, I'm at JustJerk. Why?"

"Never mind that. What time?" Your voice evidently becomes eager.

"At 5 p.m.?"

"I'll see you then."

You took an off day, resting your mental for the day, and it was currently 4:30 p.m. as you got ready to head out for the day.

In the JustJerk studio, Bada, Lusher, and Tatter marked their dance as they waited for time. They took a water break as people were making their way into the studio.

"By the way, you have a surprise later," Bada nudges the brunette, who looks at her with a questionable gaze. "What is it?" She simply asks, but Tatter cuts her off, "That defeats the purpose of the surprise dummy."

"Do you know what it is?" Lusher asks, but the blonde shrugs at her. "Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you," she says, teasing the older. "Oh, come on, you two were about to get started." Bada breaks them up as the class begins.

You walked into the building about 20 minutes into the class and asked the receptionist for a visitor's pass that you hung around your neck. Peeking your head in, you see Bada teaching steps already, and the two of you make eye contact. She gives a small wave, and you reciprocate with a smile hiding behind your mask.

You made your way over to the side of the room, sitting on the bench where you put your tote bag beside you. Your eyes scan the room, falling onto your best friend, Lusher. That's what everyone calls her nowadays, but you only called her by her real name.

Then you see the woman next to her, and you pause.

Your eyes widen at the blonde beauty who stood beside your childhood friend, taking in her existence. She wore a simple crop top, black baggy sweets, and a denim jacket. You basically had found an angel whose body flowed fluidly at every step demonstrated to her. Her aura brightened the room's atmosphere whenever she smiled at Bada's antics. She played around with your best friend often, and you saw the two' precious bond.

Well, Jeno was definitely right about finding some inspiration.

Thoughts overflow your brain, and you take the notepad from your bag, writing down everything you can.

Baby, dance, dance, dance Wrap me up with your devotion It's a bad romance Got my body rockin' in slow motion But I can't cope walkin' on a tightrope Hangin' on the tension Let me down, down, down with you Let me give you my attention

After an hour, the class takes a break, and you shy your way behind Lusher. Your hands covered her eyes, and she flinched at the touch, "Who the hell?"

"Did you miss me, Seoyoung-ah?" You ask, and the girl instantly recognizes who it is. You were the only person who called her by her real name and had a husky, rough voice. She almost rips your hands off, wrapping her arms tighter around your neck. "Y/n? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I needed to get away from work," You mumble into her shoulder and slip the mask under your chin, revealing your face. Bada smiles at the two while Tatter wonders who you are. She was marveled by your slender eyes and relationship with the brunette. "Is this my surprise, unnie?" Lusher asks the tall dancer. She nods, proud of herself for keeping your arrival secret.

"The girl has been struggling the last few days and figured you could brighten her mood."

"Is that right?" Your best friend questions you, and you only show a bright smile.

Tatter's heart fastens at the sight of your grin. She didn't even know who you were, yet she couldn't help the feeling creeping up on her. "Ah, Y/n, let me introduce you. Tatter, this is my best friend Y/n, and Y/n, this is Tatter." Your eyes meet the blonde dancer, and she gives you a friendly smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Tatter."

"Likewise. Glad to meet one of Lusher unnie's long-time friends." Your face shows a look of shock. "Unnie?"

You thought she was at least the same age as you and Lusher, but you learn she was born in 2001. "I hope I haven't been replaced as your best friend," you joke, and Lusher punches your arm lightly. "Tatter is my dance duo. You and I will always be forever," she tells you as your arm wraps around her shoulder, you leaning your head on hers.

"Let's wrap up this class soon so we can all hang out?" Bada suggests, and Lusher nods excitingly, leaving your side. You and Tatter giggle at the girl as she tries to dance quickly. "You two must be close if she's acting like this," Tatter spoke calmly. "Well, she's always like that with me. This isn't anything out of the ordinary."

"True," she says, and you laugh at her bluntness. You went back to your seat as you appreciated the view of all the dancers and even watched the filming process. When the class finally ended, and all the students were out the door, you were left with the three dancers who sat on the floor, a bit tired from the dancing.

"So how do you know Bada-unnie?" The blonde asks you out of nowhere. "Uh, I'm a producer and composer at SM, so I see her at the building almost daily."

Tatter becomes fascinated at the thought of your profession, not knowing anyone in that field of work. "You make music?"

"Yeah. It's something I always loved doing since I was a kid."

"So that means you play instruments?" She looks at you, super interested, and you can't help but grow flustered with her eyes on you. It felt intense, and you weren't used to feeling this intimidation. "Um, of course. I started playing multiple instruments at the age of 11."

Her face goes into amazement at your words. "11? That's amazing. You must be really good then."

"I'd say I'm decent," you say teasingly. "She's more than decent. She created the melody Better by BoA," Lusher points out, and Bada nods in agreement. "Better? By BoA? That's one of my favorite songs."

You look at the blonde happily, "I also part-took in writing some of the lyrics."

Tatter gets up and begins bowing at you, causing you to frantically wave your arms at her gesture. "Please get up and never do that ever again." You chuckle as she gets up.

"Her unreleased stuff is fire, though," Bada says, exposing you, and your eyes widen. "Unnie~" You whined at the older woman, who chuckled, "What, it's true. The stuff you don't release are some of your best works."

"She's not wrong," your best friend added.

"Would you mind showing me some?" Tatter asks innocently, and you nod, looking away. Every time you made proper eye contact, your hands got clammy, and breathing felt ten times harder. What in the world was happening to you.

You then pull out your work phone, where you keep all your projects and private songs. Your hands lend her the wired headphones you used only specifically for this, and you connect it to the phone.

"What vibe are you looking for right now, Tatter-nim?" You joke with the question, and she responds, "Hmmm, some RnB would be nice right now." You then scroll and click the song called "Clueless Mystery."

As Tatter listened, everyone watched her eyes go soft at the sound of your voice. "Holy shit, you sound beautiful." Your ears go red at the compliment, and give her a slight bow as she keeps listening. Her upper body begins to sway at the beat, and your focus on her becomes sincere. She looked like she genuinely enjoyed the song's melody, almost freestyling as she stayed seated. You smile at her movements, and Lusher can only watch you two curiously.

That look you gave the blonde was something Lusher knew all too well... you were falling for her and falling quick.

When the song ends, Tatter can't help but applaud your work, and you bow jokingly, "Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all night, folks."

“Would you mind sending me those songs?" She asks you seriously, and you nod, happily switching numbers so you can send her some tracks when you get home. "You sure you gonna listen to them?"

"Of course. That one also seemed nice to dance to, so I might make some choreography."

That was unexpected. You nod slowly, realizing her words, "Sure, I'll pick some of my best work out."

Your visits at the JustJerk Academy became frequent as you got excited to see the blonde. The past few weeks, you had slowly but surely finished Ten's solo song, the NCT member, deciding to call the sensual song "Birthday." A piece usually took less time to make, but if you made it, you made sure to take your time, ensuring you put every single thought, sweat, and tear into it. Now, you were only missing a few lyrics and decided to keep seeing your newfound friend as she secretly became your muse for this piece.

The two agreed to meet at YGX today as Tatter was working on some new choreography for the studio. When you go to the dance studio, you see the blonde dancing through the window. This time, she wore black leggings, plain Converse, and a sheer white long-sleeve. You were fucked. Tatter looked immaculate in her simplistic outfit, the white top emphasizing her heavenly beauty.

Your brain goes crazy at the sight before you, and your breath becomes terribly shaky. Your hands move on their own, opening the door ever so slightly, and you hear one of your slow songs. You bow, coming in, letting her do her own thing until the song ends.

You watch as her body moves elegantly to the song, the jazz training being prominent in her dancing. Moving fluidly, as usual, you were in a trance, not even realizing your track had ended and she was approaching you. "Was it good?" She asks you breathlessly.

"Of course it was. What else could I expect from you?"

She smiles, taking a seat beside you. "So, you have a new song for me?"

"Wanna find out?" She nods, and you give her the phone. This time, she unlocks the phone with ease and connects the phone to the speaker. After hanging around the dancers for a while, you and Tatter became close to the point where her face could unlock the phone, and she knew her way well around the phone. You even called her by her real name.

You trusted her with it as she hasn't given you a reason not to. She clicks the unfamiliar name "Drowned Happiness." A slow-paced pop-synth beat could be heard, and Tatter's body automatically grooves away. She does a rope-pulling movement in your direction, and you roll your eyes. She was well aware you didn't dance, but here she was trying to entice you.

"Taeyoung-ah, you know damn well I have two left feet," She doesn't respond to you, just grabbing your arm and pulling you to the center of the room. She circles your body as she dances, and you can only watch her in astonishment. The distance between you is minuscule, and you stand there, frozen. "Are you scared of me, Kang Y/n?" She asks in a whisper, the smaller girl making sure you kept your eyes on her the entire time. "You know I don't bite."

Your breath hitches at her words.

She takes your arms and wraps them around her own waist, and you try swaying your body to follow her movement. Finding the right pace, you two go in sync, and Tatter smiles at your awkward figure, finding you adorable. Your hands fondle with her hips as she leans your body closer to you.

"You know, no one has ever had this effect on me." You just listened to her, still sticking to the momentum the two of you had. "The first time I saw you in the studio, god. You did something to me. The stupid smile you have, the little head bobs you did while listening to music, your deep voice, everything about you was captivating."

That stupid smile she calls out takes shape on your face. "You're so beautiful, angel," was all you could say, giving her a new nickname. You couldn't even find the right words, making you nervous. It was literally part of your job, but Tatter made it overly difficult for you. The song ends, and you pull away quickly, feeling your face heat up at the exchange.

You cough before trying to redeem yourself, "Wanna head out for lunch?"

"Sure. What do you have in mind?" She asked, picking up her bag and phone. "There's a small Italian place near by if you want." She nods, and you drive to the restaurant. While driving, you felt Tatter's eyes on you occasionally, and you tried to shake away the anxiousness you felt bubbling inside you.

You guys make it and open the cae door for the girl. Entering the establishment, you were met with the smell of pasta and baked goods.

The two of you ate pasta as you chatted away, "I'm telling you, Seoyoung would get her hands stuck in her hoodie." You told her stories about you and Lusher's childhood, and Tatter always laughed. "How does that even happen?"

You shrug, "I don't know. All I know is she always cried about it, and I'd have to help her out every single time."

The two of you were about to continue but noticed the heavy rain outside. "Shit," Tatter said softly, looking out the window. "I'll drop you home. It's no big deal."

When finishing up, you two argued over paying the bill. "Let me, I've literally been using your music for my own fun."

"Taeyoung, that has nothing to do with paying the bill, like, at all."

"I wanna pay, please~" She pleaded, but you shook your head, handing your card to the water, "No, and that's final." Tatter quiets down at your stern voice, never hearing it before. You sounded so sexy, making her feel vulnerable in front of you.

When existing, you guys stood under the store's overhead, and you began taking off your letterman jacket. Placing it over the blonde's head, she mopes. "You're gonna get sick, unnie," she tried taking it off, but you stopped her, just pulling her waist close as you run to your car, ensuring she didn't slip. You open the passenger door and let her enter before running to the driver's side.

Safe to say, as soon as you sat in the car, you sighed at yourself. You were literally soaking wet. Tatter looks at you in silence, taking in your appearance. Your usual straight long black hair turned a little wavy, and your plain white shirt was now see-through, enabling her to see the black sports bra you wore underneath. When you look at her in a fit of laughter, she looks away, trying to hide the shades of pink on her face.

You drove her home, and as you sat in the front of her apartment, she sighed, "Can I at least give you some clothes? Before you get sick?" You just nod, saying, "Sure, this shirt isn't feeling too comfortable right now anyways." Not wanting to argue with her. She wasn't wrong, as you felt the heavy weight of your shirt tiring your body.

She lets you in, and your nose is filled with the scent of Vanilla. Of course, her house would smell like this. The girl herself smelled sweet all the time.

"Let me get you a towel with some clothes so you can shower."

She marches off somewhere with a mission in mind, and you wait at the entrance, not wanting to wet her place too much. Tatter comes back, handing you a soft sage green towel. "The bathroom is in the hallway, the door to the left, and I have some clothes in there for you."

You nod and take a quick hot shower, and as Tatter waits for you, she changes into a silk pink pajama set, getting comfortable in her humble abode. She sat in her living room, watching TV, and you came out in grey sweatpants and a baggy light blue shirt. Your hair was now in a ponytail, and Tatter couldn't help but stare at you lovingly. You looked adorable and comfy in her clothes.

Making your way over to her, you sat on her couch, making yourself feel at home as you were tired. "You good?" She asks you softly. "Yeah, just a bit tired from all the food we ate."

"Stay for a while. Let the rain die down, and we can watch a movie."

"Let's do it then," You put one of her throw pillows in your lap, and she smiles fondly at you. The two of you agreed to watch Mamma Mia. As the movie goes on, the two of you move closer to each other as you play around every now and then. Tatter then rests her head in the crook of your neck, and you smile at this. Finding some courage as you two watched the movie, you asked her in a gentle voice, "Hey?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you wanna go on a date tomorrow?"

She peeks at you, leaning her head up, "Is this not a little date right now?" You grin, feeling your heart swell up at the view of her beautiful face. "A proper date, angel."

With her new name rolling off your tongue, she gives you a quick peck on the cheek, "I'd love to go on a proper date with you, unnie."

A/n: This took so long to write, but it was defo worth it!

-sivine

[soulkeeper801]

Safe place - Twice Sana

Requested: Reader has always been someone who doesn’t let others see or know how she’s truly feeling(in terms of sadness and negative emotions) even when it comes to her girlfriend Sana. But, after an incident(you can choose…something really angsty preferably no death tho) Sana tries to get her to open up which leads to an argument and reader eventually breaking down.

Words: 1.6k

Angst? Fluff/Comfort

Sana x idol!f!reader (Y/N's group is disbanding)

“So the group is stopping all activities that were ready for the rest of the year,” one of the directors said, closing the file he was holding in his hands and giving a glance at where you were, “we’ve tried many things and not one of them have worked. I’m sorry, girls,” he continued, her gaze now filled with a hint of pity, “but we can’t do anything else, the project is over”.

You knew this would happen sooner or later. You thought you had prepared yourself to hear those words yet when they touched your ears your heart broke in a million pieces. The one thing you had worked hard for years was ending suddenly, leaving you with nothing else. 

What were you supposed to do now?

“We’ll find a way,” you whispered to one of your members as you saw her hold back tears.

There was no way.

You could only give them faint hopes to fight for what was left but deep down you knew it was really over.

The ride home was silent.

No one dared to say a word, knowing very well that it was probably one of the last times you would be together in the van that got you to places that only feeded hopes that never blossomed.

“Are you having dinner with me, baby?” a text lighted up your phone screen.

And it somehow lightened up your mood at least for a second.

“I might be late, love,” you replied.

“I’m buying take out on my way home, I’ll wait for you,” she texted one more time and you left out a deep sigh.

Sana was your number one supporter. Always getting in trouble with her own company just to promote you and your group. 

But not even that could save you.

As the van pulled up to your apartment building, the somber mood inside was hard to shake. You and your fellow group members slowly filed out, each lost in their own thoughts. 

The weight of the failed project pressed heavily on your shoulders, and the uncertainty of the future was overwhelming.

When you entered your apartment, you couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness. The walls adorned with posters and memories of your group's journey served as a painful reminder of what was now lost. 

As soon as they went to sleep, you made your way out to Sana’s apartment. It was something they all knew you would do and as always, they made sure no one would notice you were gone.

“I got your favorite,” Sana said when she saw you crossing the door frame with your spare key, “you must be so tired,” she continued, getting close to you and embracing you in a tight hug.

A hug that served not only as a welcome but also as the comfort you were looking for. 

You hated to be seen as vulnerable, not in control of your own feelings and emotions so you always wore a cool mask to protect yourself. You held back all the tears that had pooled on your eyes as soon as Sana’s warmth covered you.

“You still have glitter on your hair,” she chuckled, taking a strain of bright color from your hair and shoulders but her eyes lingered a little longer on your features. She knew you too well. “Everything alright?” 

Your gaze immediately went to the floor, there was no way you could lie at her while looking at her eyes. “Yeah,” you trailed off, trying to talk about anything else but the thing that was making you feel miserable. “What do we have for dinner?” you asked, taking a step towards the kitchen counter where the paper bags were placed.

Sana let you go but followed you closely with her eyes. Something was off.

As you unpacked the takeout containers on the kitchen counter, Sana leaned against the doorway, her concern evident in her gaze. She knew you better than anyone else and could tell when something was bothering you, no matter how hard you tried to hide it.

You both sat down at the small dining table, and the atmosphere in the room felt heavy with unspoken emotions. The aroma of the food filled the air, but neither of you had much of an appetite.

Sana finally broke the silence, her voice soft and understanding. "You can talk to me, you know. I can see that something's bothering you. You don't have to pretend everything's okay."

“It’s okay,” you lied one more time. Sana didn’t need to know what was happening. Your problems were yours to deal with and she didn’t have to be bothered. “This soup is amazing, where is it from?”

Sana smiled sadly. Didn’t you trust her enough?

“That Japanese place that opened last week,” she replied quietly, taking a spoonful herself to confirm what you were saying.

“We should buy from there more often,” you continued, trying to bring the conversation to a shallow topic. “Not a lot of new businesses around lately, huh?”

You lifted your gaze to find Sana looking intently at you. She had left her spoon on the side of her plate as she studied your expression looking for answers.

“Not a lot,” she replied, waiting patiently for you to go at your own pace, to process whatever was going through your mind until it was the right time for you to come forward.

Silence fell upon you two once again. You didn’t know but Sana couldn’t keep her eyes away from you. 

Usually, you would tell her all about your day. Where you girls went to record, what kind of food the team got you, if anything fun happened, you would tell every detail of it. 

Sana knew how much it excited you to be in this industry and how passionate you were about your job.

So it felt weird for her to have you dejected and silent during the little time you had to share everything with each other.

Sana finally broke the silence, her voice soft and understanding. "You can talk to me, baby. I can definitely see that something's wrong. You can trust me.”

You sighed, realizing that there was no point in keeping up the facade with Sana anymore. She had been your rock through all the highs and lows of your journey with the group, and you trusted her with all your soul.

“The group’s over,” were the words that left your lips.

And you felt the world crumbling around you. Saying it out loud made it ten times realer and it broke you down.

“Oh, Y/N,” Sana breathed out, reaching for you to bring you into a comforting hug.

Once again, her warmth made you feel safe but this time you let it all out, letting the tears fall freely from your eyes as your shoulders shook from the heavy sobs you weren’t able to control.

Sana held you close, offering the comfort you so desperately needed. She didn't say anything; she simply held you, letting you pour out all the pent-up emotions that had been festering inside you. 

Her gentle presence was a balm for your wounded soul, and for the first time in a while, you didn't have to pretend to be strong.

As you cried in Sana's embrace, she whispered soothing words and reassurances. Her hand gently rubbed your back in a comforting rhythm, and she let you take all the time you needed to let it out.

After what felt like an eternity, your sobs began to subside, and you pulled away from Sana's embrace, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. You felt emotionally drained but also a strange sense of relief. Finally sharing your pain with someone who understood made the burden a little lighter.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” you said, a little calmer after having cried for several minutes. “The group was all that I had”.

“That’s not true,” she replied, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear to look at your face better, “You have your talent,” she assured, “you have your passion and you have the girls who I’m sure also want to continue with this path,” she continued.

She looked at you with adoration in her eyes.

“You all will leave the company after the contract is terminated so you can get together and start again as a group somewhere else,” she proposed. 

You stared at Sana, her words slowly sinking in. The idea of starting anew with your group members, away from the constraints of the company that had just let you go, was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"But where would we even begin?" you asked, uncertainty still lingering in your voice.

Sana's smile grew brighter, filled with determination. "There will be a way. I believe in you, in all of you. You have the talent, the passion, and the dedication. You can build something incredible together, something that's truly yours."

Her unwavering support gave you a glimmer of hope in this otherwise dark moment. It was a daunting prospect, but the thought of creating music and art with your friends, free from corporate limitations, was a dream worth chasing.

You looked at her and her smile gave you hope. She leaned in to hold your face in her hands and instinctively you closed your eyes. Sana always knew what to say to make you feel better, to make you feel protected and safe when everything was crumbling down. 

“I believe in you,” she repeated, leaving a soft kiss on your lips that lingered for a couple of seconds, “I can’t wait to see all the success you’re about to have”.

You nodded at her words, reloaded with a new sense of motivation. 

As you leaned on Sana's shoulder, you realized that even when one chapter ends, another can begin. You had the talent, the passion, and, most importantly, the unwavering support of someone who believed in you. 

With a grateful heart, you whispered, "Thank you, for everything," knowing that you were not alone in this journey.

[pitifulbaby]

damn shoes

summary: being pregnant and putting on shoes don’t usually mix well.

pairings: Steve Harrington x Pregnant!Reader

warnings: pregnancy, uhhh its pretty fluffy ngl

a/n: hello! so i haven’t written for the stranger things fandom though i’ve been in it for many a years, so this is a first! plus this is the first time writing in quite sometime, so it might be a little rusty. but i do hope you enjoy! 1.1k words

Pregnancy was, in theory- weird. Growing another human from your own body. Said human living inside your womb for nine months, completely moving each and every organ in your stomach to make room. The ‘morning’ sickness that was actually all day sickness that would be triggered by the most random things. Things you once enjoyed eating suddenly became the worst, and yet enjoying such an odd combination of food.  

But it would be worth it in the end, the endless mood swings, back pains, the kankles, the tossing and turning during the night struggling to find a comfortable way to sleep. The past nine months would seem like a piece of cake the moment you would be able to hold your baby in your arms.

But as of right now, the only thing that you could think about was the fact you couldn’t see your damn feet. Even as you were seated on your side of the bed, sneakers by your now sock clad feet- it was still a struggle to see them. Somehow, by some miracle you managed to put on your socks.

With a sigh you tilted your head to the side, watching the sunbeams as they entered through the slits of the blinds, creating little slivers of light against the carpeted floor. The sun had risen only a few hours ago, the summer sun creating overbearing heat that somehow felt even worse now that there was a human being created from your very body. The day ahead was gonna be a long one, shopping for baby furniture.

Just the thought of that made the fact of the matter even more real. In only three and a half more months your family of you and Steve would add a member. A teeny tiny member at that. Placing your hand on your bump you let your eyes look toward your sneakers. But soon your brain was fumbling over the fact that, how did you manage to put on your socks but not your shoes?

You had tried to put the shoes on while they were already tied, but that didn’t work. The ties were too tight and once you untied them to retie them, place them back on the ground and tried again- only for them once again to be too tight. And when you untied them and slipped them on, you couldn’t lift your leg high enough or lean down far enough to reach and tie said laces. And honestly you were too tired to try anymore ways. The pain in your lower back worsening each time you bent over, and over, and over. With a pout and a groan you rub your eyes with the palms of your hands, taking a break and trying to figure out how to put on your damn shoes, letting your hands fall back to your lap before once again- glaring at the black and white sneakers.

“Is there a reason you look like you are trying to shoot lasers out of your eyes at your shoes?” A voice rang out through the once quiet bedroom, with his hands on his hips- which was his usual stance, and towel slung over his shoulder was none other than your husband Steve. With a tilt of his head and leaning more on one side, causing his hip to jut out, he sends you a smile.

Replying with a huff you simply shrugged your shoulders. “If I glare at them enough, maybe they will magically levitate onto my feet.” You say simply, lip jutted out. Steve rolls his eyes with a quiet laugh, “Next time Henderson is over, you two aren’t allowed to watch Star Wars again.” He decides, taking the dish towel off of his shoulder and placing it onto the dresser before stepping towards where you sat, kneeling on one knee in front of you. “Dustin will have a field day when I tell him you think ‘magical levitation’ means Star Wars.” You said, your pout from before turning into a small smile.

“Is that not what they do?” He questioned, voice a little dramatic in hopes of making your smile wider, “The force is an energy field.” He once again rolls his eyes at your words, “Energy fields, magic- same thing.” He brushes off with a shrug before placing his left hand on your knee and letting his right hand cup the side of your face.

You let your eyes trail to the hand on your knee, reaching out and twisting the wedding ring on his finger that matched your own. “What’s going on, honey?” His voice was softer and more quiet than before, tilting his head to try and catch your eye. “I can’t put my shoes on, I tried everything and everyway.” You responded, cheeks flushing in embarrassment at the confession, sniffling to try and will the tears away.

It felt embarrassing not being able to put on your sneakers!

As Steve felt your cheeks heat up he rubbed his thumb against the apple of your cheek, “Hey,” He cooed, you only responded with a huff, moving your hands to rub at your eyes with a pitiful, forced laugh. “It’s embarrassing, m’sorry.”

With a shake of his head that you couldn’t see, Steve was soon pulling your hands from your face, letting your hands fall to your lap once again as he now placed both hands on the sides of your face, leaning in closer with a small frown. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about, not with me.” Steve promised, words hushed and sincere. He then presses a kiss to your forehead, then leaned back.

He soon was grabbing your left shoe, holding it in his hand. “What are you doing?” You questioned, he hummed in response, placing a kiss to your knee before lifting your leg up a tad to slip the shoe on. “Skydiving,” He replies, which in turn causes you to laugh at his dry tone.

Your eyes were soft as you watched him tie your shoe, finding it adorable and endearing that Steve Harrington still had to use the bunny ear method to tie shoes. After the left shoe was on and tied he moved to the other shoe, repeating the previous actions before he leaned forward to speak to your stomach. “Listen, I get it, you gotta grow before you come out, but give your mom some slack.”

Before he can say anything else, said baby is kicking right where Steve had placed his hand. “I know you can hear me!” He says through a laugh, which in turn causes you to laugh. He then tilts his head back to look up at you, the way the light hits his eyes makes them look more golden than usual, the more you stare the more it reminds you of the sun shining through the blinds that you were looking at a few moments ago. After a moment that feels too long, you are pressing your lips to his.

Maybe not being able to put on your shoes was a good thing...

[oxymorayuri]

𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝟷𝟻

𝐺𝑖𝑟𝑙'𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘 »

𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝐷. 𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟

𝐿𝑎𝑤 ✘ ♀ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: マキトシ

Story: The princess of Tanata

[Long Fic]

➽ Click on this link to see all chapters.

Spoiler: nope

Warnings: nope

slowburn with plot

Wordcount: 3057

Text in italics emphasizes the reader’s thoughts

Bold and italic text emphasizes Law's thoughts *~*

Tagging: @slytherinambitious - @sassyyassi - @norasincubi - @cottoncandyloverrrr - @one-piece-frvr7

"Sorry y/n to interrupt your special time with Law…" She approaches you with a mischievous grin on her face and laughs in your ear. You frown at her as you walk side by side down the long hallway. What's up with that remark?

"Special time? Huh? What's up with you?" You roll your eyes and lightly push her away with your shoulder. Nami pouts a little, her eyes glinting at you knowingly.

"Oh come on, I've got you all figured out. Whenever you had your little lessons, you always ran around the palace with a huge grin on your face…." She stands in front of you and forces you to stop. With her hands clasped behind her back, she wiggles her eyebrows up and down like 'come on, tell me something'. You didn't realize how obviously you were behaving, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything.

"Oh, I was just happy because I was learning new things. Everything is a bit exciting at the moment… Besides, I wasn't alone with him… Chopper was also there and together with Law they taught me about your medicine." You talk your way out of it, but you're still unsure whether Nami will buy it. She looks after you with obvious suspicion as you walk past her.

"Nope, I don't believe you! After all, I just saw how close you were sitting to each other!" You suddenly stop in your tracks. A triumphant smile appears on Nami's face.

"I also saw how much you had blushed."

She comes closer to you and grabs you by the shoulders.

"Oh come on, he just looks different from the men who live here, of course I'm interested." You reluctantly admit. When you can't brush Nami off, you try to play it cool.

"Yeah, sure, and what about Zoro?" - "Eww Zoro? He's just like Ambrosios, all muscles and pride." You look arrogantly at your fingernails and ignore Nami's gaze. You don't let yourself get down, even if Nami is pacing around you like a wild cat.

"What about Sanji?" You put your hands on your hips a little appalled.

"Listen, the womanizer might be able to cook, but before anything happens between him and me, he'll already have died of a nosebleed… Besides, Thalia likes him!" - "Okay, okay, I get it. But tell me… how come, there's nothing going on between you and Ambrosios? This guy is hot as hell."

Ahhhh, I guess I figured out Nami's type. You save that info.

"Me and Ambrosios?! No way! I grew up with him, he's like my brother and he's totally annoying." You laugh a little. "He's just like a big brother who likes to get on his sister's nerves." - "Uh huh." She looks at you again with a look that confuses you. Like she knows things you don't.

"All right… On your nerves… You're so blind! That guy has a huuuge crush on you!" Your reaction is almost disgusted and you twitch an eye uncontrollably. Maybe Nami is just crazy, but somehow you really love that about her. Your disturbed face relaxes again and you burst out laughing.

"So what? It doesn't change anything anyway." Your laughter dies down and you shake your head slightly as you start walking again.

"Uh? What does that mean?" She catches up and now you're walking side by side again.

"Well, I'm the priestess and that means I can't get married or have a romantic relationship." Nami's face goes a little pale.

"And what about your womanly needs?"

You weren't expecting such a direct and intimate question and you blush in an instant.

"Heeey! what's this all about? Do you want me to pepper you with questions like that? With how many members have you hooked up with? hmm?" You stick your tongue out at her.

"Yeah, well, I'll leave the subject at that… But I'll stick to my opinion that you really like 'Mr. Surgeon of Death'." - "Oh, think what you want." You know you can't convince Nami anyway, so you just leave it alone.

When you arrive in her and Robin's room, Robin sits on her bed. She looks up from her book and smiles gently at you without saying anything.

You're not sure what Nami has planned, you more or less just followed her without asking. Nami puts down the picnic basket and turns to face you, hands on her hips.

"Okay! You can decide y/n, do you want to talk and eat the pastries or would you rather go shopping to distract yourself?" Her dynamic nature makes you laugh.

"Can I have both?" A little shyly, you make circular movements with your index fingers. Surprised, Nami thinks for a moment.

"Yes, of course!" She opens the picnic basket and takes things out, including a bottle of wine. Meanwhile, Robin had fetched three wine glasses and poured everyone some wine. Together you sat on Nami's huge bed, which had room for at least two more people.

"Do you want to talk about why you… you know… cried?" She starts the conversation a little cautiously. Her voice took on a soft tone and there was no sign of her quirky manner. She was genuinely worried about you.

You take a deep breath and briefly consider how to start the conversation.

"What would you do if you were forced to give up your dreams?" Nami and Robin look at each other knowingly, they both know exactly what it's like to live a life where dreams have no room.

"I wouldn't give a shit what the others say!" Nami laughs as she looks at you again. The answer is perhaps charming but unfortunately not helpful. You groan a little in despair and Nami realizes that she can't comfort you with that.

"You know, I can speak from experience that life doesn't always go the way you want it to. Sometimes you just need a little push in the right direction!" She makes a hand gesture as if she's pushing someone away from her.

"A push huh?" - "Yes, exactly. I was caught in a pretty stupid situation back then, but Luffy got me out of it!" You perk up and a mischievous grin appears on your face.

"Ahh, so you're into Luffy?" You want to get back at her a little, for cornering you like that before. She grabs a pillow and swings at you. You narrowly avoid her attack and you and Robin laugh at the redhead.

"Noooo! Oh my god…! Luffy has inspired me to make my dreams come true… He inspired each and every one of us…" She says proudly as she looks over at Robin, who nods in confirmation.

"Oh that's nice… I've hardly talked to anyone about it, but those who know my wish have tried to talk me out of it…" You look sadly at your wine.

"Well… what is your wish?" She tilts her head slightly to one side and raises an eyebrow.

"I wish to leave the kingdom and relinquish my title as a holy princess…" You don't dare to look into her eyes. You don't want to see her reaction. You wouldn't be able to handle it, if one more person had something against your dreams today.

"Ah okay, and what's wrong with that?" Your face goes up again abruptly and you look at her with widened eyes. She seems so unfazed by your statement, as if you just want to try out a new hobby like drawing.

"Well, I would have to leave everyone behind and I have duties, not only as a priestess but also as a princess. I can't be replaced, but even if I could find a solution, my grandfather wouldn't let me go." The two women nod attentively at you.

"You know, your grandfather is probably just worried. It's a crazy world out there…" You roll your eyes.

"Yes, I'm aware of that, but it's not like I'm weak!" - "That's right, y/n can fight back, she's proven that to us." Robin swings the wine around in her glass as she recalls her memory.

"Yeah that's right…" Nami taps her finger thoughtfully on her lip. "That's just how family is… They always worry, and sometimes too much." She shrugs her shoulders and you begin to understand no matter how strong or what solution you come up with, your grandfather won't be able to let you go with a calm heart.

"Who else advised you against your ideas?" Robin asks you.

"Law." - "Law?" says Nami in surprise.

"Yes, Law. He said it wouldn't be a good idea to sail into the world with pirates." - "Ohh what a gentleman..." She rolls her eyes and lets herself fall a little backwards. She sighs with satisfaction as her back touches the soft pillows.

"Maybe he just wanted to warn you how hard the pirate life is compared to your princess life? No more soft silk cushions, no servants to bring you anything you want with a smile, no expensive wine, no privacy, no carefree life…" Before she can add any more points, you stop her by pressing your hand over her mouth and she looks at you in surprise.

"Yes, yes, I know all that, but it's not something I would miss, for sure." You lean back and let go of her mouth. You groan with frustration as you empty your glass in one go.

"I don't want to be adored or wrapped in cotton. Besides, I want to learn more about my powers and that's something even my grandfather forbids me to do." Nami and Robin look at you questioningly. You tell them as much as you can remember about the big disaster back then. How you unleashed forces that almost caused more destruction than the pirates who attacked you.

They hang eagerly on your lips, their emotions wavering between amazement and sadness as you tell them about it. You talk about how your grandfather sank into a deep hole and a dark year in the history of his reign followed. Until the day you woke up from your coma.

"When I woke up again, I couldn't remember anything. A few memories came back little by little, but most of them are gone. My grandfather then made the decision, to burn all unimportant or dangerous scripts and hid artifacts about the Taimu Taimu fruit, so that I would never be able to unleash my true potential." - "But that only means you can't fully control your power..." Robin interrupts you. You nod at her with a smile.

"Maybe so, but explain that to the king." You shrug your shoulders "And your uncle? Can't he help you?" - "Zelos? He would never go against the king's word. He already gets himself into enough trouble to help me, but he can't do anything about it himself."

Talking to the girls was like balm for your soul. In the palace, you have no one you could talk to so freely about such things. Even though Thalia is always there for you, you can't even tell her certain things. You feel a bit bad because you don't even believe that Thalia would shun you. If anything, she's the 'don't just live your life, love it as well' type of girl.

"Hey, you look so sad again. You should try this!" Nami appears in your field of vision and holds up a pastry to your face. Chuckling, you take the treat and bite into it. It's so fluffy and sweet.

"Hey y/n what do you say? How do I look?" Nami grabs her attire by the sides and turns slightly in front of you so that you can see her from all sides.

The tight fitting of the satin gown emphasizes her figure and the folds of the fabric drape elegantly over her various curves. Colorful accents in soft shades of pink and gold are set into the fabric. The color is definitely hers.

"It looks so good on you! But there's still something missing!" You walk through the store while a few attendants trot after you, with dresses in their arms. You go to a stand where bracelets with silk shawls are hanging, searching for a certain color. Your eyes widen in delight as you find the perfect one.

You walk back happily with the bracelets in your hand.

"Here, you have to attach these to your upper arms. The fabric will blow behind you like a veil." You help her put the hoops on and smile at her as you take a step back to have a look at Nami.

"Aww those are so pretty! That rose gold goes really well with the gown and the veils even glitter slightly in the light!" Enchanted, she looks at herself in the mirror.

" I have to say, Princess, your country has such a romantic taste in fashion." - "If you say so." You laugh into your hand.

"What about you?" - "Me?! No no, I certainly have enough dresses in the palace." You cross your arms in front of you.

"But there's another store I'd like to go to." - "Oh yeah? Where do you want to go?" she calls out as she changes in the fitting room.

"There's a little bookshop here and the owner is an author himself. My favorite author, to be exact, and he's published a new book that I have to buy!" By the end of your sentence, your excitement was hard to ignore, you've been waiting for him to finish it for ages now. It's a sequel to a romance and the first part pretty much ended in a cliffhanger.

Nami steps out of the cabin in her own clothes. One of your servants stepped right up to her and held out his arm.

"Lady Nami, let me carry this for you." He spoke politely.

"I could reaaaally get used to this!" Laughing like a little princess with her nose up, she put her clothes on his arm. This would look arrogant on someone else, but Nami just has such charisma that you can't really be mad at her.

You hook yourself into her arm and walk towards the exit together. The shopkeeper thanks you for your visit and gives you a respectful bow.

"Hey wait!" Nami stops in her tracks and you fall back, a little in surprise.

"I forgot to pay for this!" As she turns back around, you hold her tightly and shake your head.

"Don't worry about it, the owner will just send us the bill and Grandpa will pay it." You gasp a little as Nami jumps into your arms with hearts in her eyes.

"This is a DREAM!" She cries wildly and the servants all rush to help her with tissues.

On the streets, people greet you with happy faces. They love you. They cherish you. They worship you… Of course you like attention but it always feels like they only love what you do and not who you are. With your distinguished manner, you return every wave, smile and chat with anyone who comes your way.

That's part of your job as a princess. You must be kind and generous to your people, because the harmony in Tanata depends on the royal house and the stronger the bond between the people and the royal house, the better.

"Hoowww you haven't finished it yet?!" You rest your arms on the counter in despair and hang your head.

"I'm sorry princess but somehow I'm lacking a bit of inspiration…" The bookshop owner is just as depressed as you are and you both compete in sulking.

"Inspiration?" Nami wonders.

"Yes, somehow everything I have in my head is so dull and nothing new…" The owner grips the back of his neck a little ashamed.

"Oh come on, this book is my only chance of romance." You cry like a waterfall. You've read the first part so many times that you have it all memorized by now. When you heard that he was writing a second part, you immediately rushed to his bookshop to confirm the rumor.

"Sorry princess… I was hoping I could get some inspiration from your guests, after all, today is the party for little Princess Megara!" Hope sparkles in his eyes.

"Shit!" slips out of your mouth and you quickly put your hand over your lips. Your servants and the bookshop owner react in shock.

"Your Highness, please watch your language!" you hold back the eye roll and smile apologetically at them.

"I completely forgot that today is the big banquet for the birth of Megara… we should get back to the palace Nami!" You grab the redhead by the hand and stormed out of the store.

"Hey, why are you in such a hurry!" you look over your shoulder at her "I still have to prepare the present for Megara!"

Back in the palace, you hurry into the dressing room and search through all the drawers until you come across a small chest. You pause for a moment as you hold the small blue chest in your hands. Your fingers run over the engraving and a small stab goes through your heart.

"Did this belong to your mother?" Nami asks when she sees the name on the chest.

"Yes." You say in a low voice. You hesitate slightly before you finally bring yourself to open it.

On a small cushion lies a beautiful laurel crown with unique details. The crown is adorned with fine moonstone dahlias and carefully you hold your mother's crown in your hands.

"It's beautiful." Nami swears.

You carefully place it in a flat gift box and tie a bow around it.

"I think it will look very good on Megara." You both smile at each other and leave the room together.

"Well then, let's get dressed up for the banquet!"

After you and Nami went your separate ways, you went to change your clothes and Nami went back to Hera's palace. You agreed with her that you would pick up the whole gang, when it was time for the banquet, so that you could all go into town together. When the time came, you started to get a little nervous. You're really looking forward to the party.

Arriving at the huge door of the Heras palace, you take a deep breath before stepping inside. As you open it, you are immediately struck by the sight of Law in the hall, talking to Zoro and Ambrosios.

He looks simply incredible in the traditional attire... You try to control your face as the guys notice you.

"Hey hey heeey, Ambrosios… What are you doing here?" You try to make your expression look like you're surprised by his presence. The warrior rubs his eyes as his gaze fell on your cleavage.

"Princess?!" He eyes you up and down. "Is that you? Yes, it's you! I thought I saw an angel…" He runs his fingers through your hair and smiles charmingly at you. You stick a finger down your throat in a symbolic gesture and imitate a gagging sound. You think of Nami's words, but no matter how hot he is, he doesn't trigger anything in you. In your eyes, he's just a typical heartbreaker.

"Distance big man." You turn away from him. Your eyes go around. The hall is large and the nearby fireplace room is always open. A few pirates have gathered there, the only ones you haven't seen yet are the girls Ikkaku, Nami and Robin.

"The girls aren't ready yet?" - "Nope, it'll probably take a little longer. Women…" Zoro answers you somewhat sneeringly. You have to laugh at his comment and playfully nudge him in the side so that his robe, which he must have struggled to put on, gets loose.

"Don't say that so loudly you greenhead, you know how hard it is to get into those clothes. The women's clothing is actually much more complicated than the men's." Ambrosios comes close to you and strokes your shoulders.

"And much nicer." He winks at you. You shake his hands off before he starts to laugh. He whispers 'Don't be like that' but you don't respond. He just wants to play with you.

"Law, did Bepo get my present?" you clap your hands together and get a little closer to him. You asked Law to give Bepo a cloak that you got specially tailored for the mink.

He no longer keeps his distance when you approach him, he's gotten used to it over time. This is good for you, as you no longer have to be ashamed because he always reacted a little awkwardly.

"Yes, he even wears the cloak." He mentions coolly while pointing at the polar bear. Your eyes follow his elegant fingers. For a moment, your gaze lingers on his tattoos. The black color on his knuckles flatters his skin color.

When you catch the sight of the bear, it leaves you flushed and you run into the mink's arms.

"Awww Bepo! That looks so good on you!" You literally jump into his face as you wrap your arms around him. The polar bear returns your hug and rubs his cheek against yours.

"Hehe… you're the one who looks gorgeous!" - "Awww you're so cute!" Gently, the Mink lets you down onto the floor, being very careful not to step on your gown.

You're always fabulously dressed either way, but today's outfit was a little more revealing than usual. After all, it's a party and you wanted to be a little more daring. Not only are you showing a little more skin, but your robe is tinted to match your eyes and it's obvious from a distance that you're wrapped in only the most expensive fabrics. Jewelry on both arms and a long veil is attached to your shoulders which blows slightly in the wind when you walk.

When the girls came into the hall and you were sure that everyone was there, you set off together into the city, to celebrate the birth of the new Princess Megara.

Excited already? I definitely am XD The banquet will surely be a pretty long chapter so I have to finish chapter 15 like this. If I had continued, I would have had a hard time finding a cut. I'm looking forward to writing the banquet chapter for WEEKS, so you can be sure I'll post it this week :D

See you next time, kiss kiss ♡

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