#the SLEEVE SHAKE? UNCALLED FOR

[meyerlansky]

now, seein' as you like to do your fighting at night...

[chrisis-averted]

Retrace (part 1)

Melanie was suddenly very interested. “That’s a ghost,” she said, eyes glinting, “I’ve never heard one speak so clearly, but I recognize the distortion effect! Hear that slight echo?” She grinned enthusiastically at Jon. “I didn’t realise your predecessor could summon ghosts! Can you?” Jon shifted uncomfortably, his eyes looking everywhere but the recorder playing. Martin got his attention by pulling his sleeve slightly and shaking his head, mouthing a silent “What?” “I don’t—” he bit his lower lip, “I think It doesn’t want me to hear this.” Martin’s eyes went wide in alarm as he paused the recording, to Melanie’s disappointment. “Jon, what the hell does that mean?!” “I—” “Does It— Does the Eye control what you feel now?!” Jon’s face went ashen as his eyes widened. “N— no—that’s not—Not strongly, no. But I can…” he hesitated, “I can feel its annoyance, I think—it’s not really a feeling, it doesn’t really think, not like we do, but…” he pinched the bridge of his nose, as if caught by a sudden headache. “I can’t think about this, I’m sorry.” “Can’t or don’t want to?” Melanie scoffed. “Because it sounds to me you’re becoming way too reliant on your…” she made a vague gesture, “evil fear god or whatever. Just how much of your own free will is even left?” Jon looked at her silently, eyes wide. Martin felt a lump in his throat. “Uncalled for, Melanie,” he said coldly. “Sorry.” She withdrew, seemingly aware she crossed a line. “What I meant is, I’m concerned about your ability to think clearly, especially with the direction we decided to go with the plan.” Martin took a sharp breath. Melanie continued. “You can assure us you’re hundred percent sure you don’t want Elias’ ritual to succeed, right?” Jon hesitated, just for a moment, but it was enough. Enough for Martin to suddenly feel a chill down his spine. “Jon.” Melanie scoffed, shaking her head like she wanted to say ‘I told you so’ and barely stopped herself.

[mythandlaur]

Code: July Day 6 - Mistakes

A lot of people get on Jeremie's case for not apologizing for this one, so...here's that. It's a messy, imperfect apology--but it is one.

...And also some banter because I'm ship trash now apparently

...

They don't have too much longer until light's-out sends them back to their separate floors, not that Jeremie thinks he's going to sleep tonight with this new lead. That's just real egg on his face, isn't it--all of this trouble, only to find out Franz Hopper really is alive, somehow. XANA's probably really annoyed about seemingly being totally unable to kill him, but it works out for them.

Though, speaking of egg on his face...

His keystrokes slow down. There's still a loose end.

"Um...Aelita?"

"Yes, Jeremie?" She's leaning close to him to watch his screen, but turns to look at him, the sparkle of triumph still in her eyes. Their faces are almost too close, forcing Jeremie to push his chair to the side just to be able to focus on what had been running through his head most of the day.

Jeremie clears his throat, making a great deal of effort to look Aelita directly in the eye. She's now giving him a puzzled look, but he launches into it anyway.

"I, uh, I wanted to apologize, for what I said earlier about your dad, it's true I didn't think it was possible but I got upset and said something uncalled for--"

Aelita crosses her arms, interrupting him. "Jeremie, how long have you been practicing that?"

Jeremie sputters. "I--most of today..." he relents, breaking his forced eye contact to stare at his hands in his lap. He starts rolling the sleeve of his nightgown between his fingers. "B-but I do mean it! I just...I've been trying to figure out what to say so I didn't say it wrong."

Aelita sighs, and out of the corner of his eye, he catches her shaking her head. "Jeremie." It's a reprimand, but not a harsh one. When he doesn't immediately look back up at her, she reaches out and tilts his chin up herself. "I don't care if you say it wrong. I just care if it's honest. Besides, it's not as if it would be the first time."

Jeremie whines. "H-hey! You don't have to kick me while I'm already down!"

Aelita giggles, releasing his chin. "Sorry, I couldn't help it. So, do you want to try that again?"

Jeremie glances over to his computer screen. Through the remote supercomputer connection, he's attempting to search for any other matches on the DNA string code. "...I'm sorry," he manages, resting his cheek on a hand. "I knew I messed up as soon as it came out. I'm not saying you should forget where you came from, especially since it took so long to find it, but..."

"...but you think it can wait."

Jeremie finally looks her in the face again, pained. "I still can't say I get why it can't. But--that's...not really something I can say for you, or anything..."

"I don't want to put my whole life on hold. That includes my past."

"I know..."

Aelita's posture softens. She moves over to stand parallel to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. She'd been a very touchy person ever since arriving on Earth, and it had gotten them in trouble relating to the school's PDA policy a couple of times--Jeremie had asked about it once, and she'd said something about touch not existing on Lyoko, and he'd never complained about it again. Now that her memories are back, though, he's pretty sure she's just like that. Not that he's complaining.

"Thank you for apologizing," Aelita says, frankly. "And for double-checking."

"If it wasn't for you, I probably wouldn't have bothered trying..."

"And I'm sorry for leaving." She leans over to rest her head against his. "I don't regret it, but I should've at least told Yumi or Ulrich, too. The Scyphozoa..."

She lets the implication remain unfinished. Jeremie scoots himself up higher in his chair like a cat trying to push its head into a pet.

"I gotta ask," Jeremie muses, "Were you getting back at me when you went along with that whole 'oh, Jeremie said he was gonna kiss you both' thing Ulrich had to bring up?"

Aelita suddenly bursts out laughing, standing up properly. "Why can't I just want a kiss, huh? You're the one who said it."

Jeremie groans. "But I also had to kiss Odd."

"And that was an issue?"

"Well--no, but--you all know I was being facetious!"

"But Odd would've been so disappointed~..."

"You aren't answering my question!"

"Maybe I wasn't." Aelita puts a finger to her lips. "Maaaaybe I was."

"Stones!"

Both of them turn to see Jim in the doorway, an expectant look on his face. Aelita shakes her head, working out the last of her giggles. "I guess that's my cue. Please get some sleep, Jeremie."

"Well...!" Jeremie looks between Aelita, Jim (who's raised an eyebrow in an unspoken warning), and his computer. Surrounded on all sides. "...Apparently I am actually going to be doing that, now."

"You're welcome," Aelita tells Jim with a smirk, scooting past him to get out into the hallway. "We'll work on it more tomorrow."

"Understood. Goodnight, Aelita."

"Goodnight, Jeremie."

[sketchy-rosewitch]

Enantiodromia: Murph Connors x afab!gn!reader

Part 4

Warnings: age gap, weed, allusions to past abuse, mentions of foster care, juvy, homelessness, Nick O’Brien, choking, fighting.

A/N: This is not the last part I promise. There’s like 2-3 more to go.

Part 3

Part 2

Part 1

BvH Masterlist

Taggies: @blurrymango @bosinclairz

Wanting to go to the beach quickly turned from a tomorrow night deal, into a next week deal.

Murph would end up staying out late every single night. Not coming home until the early hours of the morning. You had remembered what one of the other men, Henderson, you learned his name was, had said to Murph the night you two met, “Checking out early Connors?” And that told you that this was normal, it was normal for them to stay at a hotel, drinking, snorting cocaine, and getting lap dances while they searched for answers for their latest case.

It still didn’t mean that you were any less disappointed and worried. The first night he didn’t even warn you, you sat on the couch anxiously until 7:34 am when he stumbled inside doped up. You honestly wondered how he even got home.

You didn’t say anything to him but you did help him get his sneakers off and laid down on the couch.

When both of you were finally up he apologized. Told you he’d be out late all week until they got answers. You told him you understood and he meal prepped for you.

You worried about him all week, even though he told you where he was and what he was doing, you still anxiously anticipated him walking through that door just after sunrise.

Then you broke on the 6th day. You tried not to let this affect you. You knew where he was and what he was doing. You knew he had to take nights like this because the case wouldn’t be solved without him being out late. It’s just, well, you felt lonely, your sleep schedule was messed up, and your anxiety was up higher than it’s ever been. What makes it worse is Murph is out much much later than usual.

9 am comes around and the man still isn’t home.

It’s 11:24 am when Murph stumbles through the front door.

You’re fuming as you get up off the living room couch and stomp to the foyer. Murph takes his shoes off and is acting as if nothing is happening. Your jaw clenches.

“The hell is wrong with you?!” You yell. You meant to keep your composure, unfortunately your brain fighting against itself at the moment. Murph jumps and looks at you, his brows furrow in a disgusted look.

“The hell do you mean?” His arms go out, acting as if your yelling is uncalled for.

“You’re home way, WAY fucking later than you should be!”

“There’s not a certain time I should be home! I’m home when I get home!” His voice raises slightly. Murph walks past you and you follow him.

“Yes there is! Around 7!”

“When did I say I’d be home around 7?”

“When you did it the last 5 days! I don’t know where you are! You don’t leave a note, I don’t have a phone! You could be fucking dead for all I know!”

“Who cares?!” Murph shouts, you suck in air. Tears well in your eyes.

“I do! You stupid fucker! I told you, I have no way of contacting you! What happens when you’re dead?! I’ve waited every night that you’ve gone out cause I’m scared! You’re all I have!” You break, a sob rippling through you. Your hoodie sleeves wipe your tears away aggressively. “I know you haven’t had anyone living with you for awhile.” Your breath shakes as you collect your thoughts. “But I’m here and you can’t act like I don’t care! I didn’t mean to yell but I don’t have anything if you’re not alive and I’m just- I’m just so fucking tired and I feel like I haven’t seen anyone in days!” You look at the ground, not wanting the older man to see you cry.

Carefully, Murph holds his hands up and comes up to you. His arms wrap securely around you and he squeezes. He lets out a sigh and the two of you stand in silence for a few moments. Then, he finally speaks up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you kid. I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I honestly didn’t think it was a big deal, I would’ve been home a whole lot sooner than 7 or I guess now 11.”

“It’s okay..” You whisper.

“Can I make it up to you by taking you to the beach tonight?” The older man asks.

“Yeah..”

He lets go and the two of you walk to the living room couch, he sits and reclines the chair, he pats next to him and you can’t help but get on the couch and curl into him.

Sleep quickly takes over the two of you as you can finally relax.

-

You slowly wake up feeling as though you’re in a moving car. You rub your eyes and squint looking around you notice Murph is driving. He has one hand on the steering wheel the other is covering his mouth. Music plays on the radio but you don’t recognize the song.

You sit up and yawn, Murph’s gaze goes over to you for a second before focusing back on the road.

“Was wondering when you’d get up. Didn’t wanna wake you though.” Murph comments, you nod your head. “Heading to the beach. Just like you wanted.”

“Oh cool!” You smile and watch as beach slowly come into view. The two of you park and head into the sand. It’s dark out except for a few bonfires lit on the beach. The two of you walk over to one and recognize it’s Murph’s coworkers.

Your stomach drops.

You thought it was just going to be you and him. That maybe tonight would’ve been the night you could tell him how you feel. You can’t do it in front of people, it doesn’t matter if he rejects you or not they’d be bound to make a fool out of you.

Murph grabs your shoulder and sits you down on a log. He sits next to you and the men start talking.

You ignore everything and space out.

So much for going to the beach.

“Did you tell them?” O’Brien asks, you’re not sure how much time has passed when you tune back into the conversation, you furrow your brows and look between him and Murph.

“Tell me what?”

Murph’s smile drops. He sighs and looks down in defeat.

“Murph?” You go to touch his shoulder but he moves it.

“You’re a liar.”

Your palms feel sweaty. “What?”

“You lied. About not being in contact with Kennedy and Quinn. About when they were going to rob the bank.”

“I didn’t! I told you what I know!” You defend yourself, Murph shakes his head.

“They’re out of the country and 10,000 dollars is gone. How stupid do you think I am? Thinking you can strike up some deal and get out of all of this?” His voice is low, you wanna puke at the aggression in it.

“I’m not lying. They must’ve told me a false date or something-“

“Bullshit.”

Murph grabs your neck and squeezes. You gasp, letting out a loud cry. Your head feels tight and your eyes roll up. You hold onto Murph’s wrist trying to push him off of you.

He eventually lets go and you cough, gasping for air. The moment is short lived as you feel a kick to your gut. A loud gut wrenching sob escapes your throat as the air gets knocked from your lungs. You grab onto your stomach. Your body panics from not being able to breath. You look around frantically and realize there’s a gun aimed at your head.

“You used me. For that you’re not getting out of this alive.”

-

You gasp awake, looking around the living room. Rubbing your eyes, you try squint to adjust your eyesight. Murph is leaning on a counter in the kitchen. “Evening.” He says in a playful tone. You’re still spooked from your dream.

You manage to get out a, “Hi..”, still trying to process your surroundings.

“It’s a little past 5, I was thinking we could go out to dinner and then head to the beach after, we’ll stay as long as you like.” Murph explains. You nod your head.

“That sounds.. good.” Your heart rate picks up speed as you get up. “It’ll just be you and me right?” You ask nervously. Murph smiles.

“Yeah. The guys aren’t going, I didn’t even tell them about this, I’m not trying to have them ruin my high.” Murph chuckles. Your anxiety dissipates. You smile. “Just let me know when you’re ready, okay?”

You nod your head and make your way upstairs. You shut the door behind you and look in your dresser. Wanting to look the best you could, you take a minute or two to decide. When you do, you grab a pair of pants, a faux turtleneck tank top, and your jacket, then put on a few necklaces and a bracelet.

You stare at the mirror that hangs over your dresser and look at your hair. You frown and try and fix it a little. When finally get it in a decent place you grab your boots and slide them on, zipping them up you then head downstairs. Murph is looking at himself in the foyer mirror, adjusting the collar on his polo.

Your stomach tightens and face heats up at him wearing the shirt. The way it manages to accentuate his arms drives you crazy.

“You ready?”

“Hell yeah I am!” You reply. Murph smirks and grabs his keys, pockets his wallet and grabs his coat. You two then head out the door. “So where are we going to eat?”

“Little bar by the beach. They got some good ass wings. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“Sounds great.”

Surprisingly parking is easy to find and the wait was not long at all. Murph and you sit down at some window seats facing towards the beach.

“Hello, my names Sara, what can I get for you two to drink tonight?”

“Coke.”

“Corona Light.”

“You want a lime?”

Murph nods.

“Okay I’ll have those out for ya.”

The waitress walks away from the table and you look over the menu.

“You sleep well?” Murph asks, you nod.

“Yeah.” You lie, and set down your menu when you finally figure out what you want.

“That’s good. Hey, I really am sorry for this week. I’m sorry for this morning too. I’d just been up for more than 20 hours. Should’ve known you would’ve been worried, I’d been worried about you too. I’d been kept busy all week and if I knew how you felt I would’ve tried harder to come back earlier. I thought I was being over dramatic I mean I know you can take care of yourself but-“

“I can, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t or uh don’t want you around. I mean I have been missing you a lot.” You confess.

The waitress comes back with your drinks and the two of you order your food.

“Got you some swim shorts and a tank top when we go to the beach. We can grab them from the truck and just walk. From there since ya know, beach is right here.”

“You gonna go swimming? You’re not exactly wearing trunks yourself. Jeans are a pain to get off too.”

“I got my stuff, don’t you worry about it.”

“Will do.”

-

By the time the two of you ate and Murph paid the sun had begun to set. You honestly got distracted by watching it you didn’t even notice Murph was getting up.

“Come on.” He taps your shoulder, you follow after him, weaving through people in the now crowded restaurant.

A light breeze blows through the air both of you make your way to his truck. He opens the door and a plastic bag rustles. He pulls out your swimwear. “Can just change in the restroom.”

You nod and go in and change. Murph is out before you, he’s texting on his phone.

“You ready Murph?” You ask, he looks up from his phone, looks at you up and down and nods.

“Hell yeah I am. Ya look great. Glad I got the right size for you.” He says, starting to walk around the building and towards the sand. “Nick texted. He got a lead. Says the Abrams will be robbing Friday at the Commercial Bank of Cali. Won’t be home until late. We’re gonna finish this.” Murph explains, his hand runs through his Sandy grey hair and he smiles reassuringly down at you. You return the smile to put him at ease.

“Yeah we are Murph. Now let’s enjoy tonight.” You smirk and run off towards the water, chucking your shoes behind you. You laugh and dive in feeling it consume you. You stand up and watch Murph set down a huge blanket and the towels. He toes his shoes off and pulls off his polo.

You gasp at his body, your mind driving you wild. He has a couple of tattoos on his chest and you see one on his hipbone leading to his groin. He walks towards you.

“Enjoying the view?” He asks, his arms sticking out. He spins and smirks at you, being so full of himself.

“You wish!” You say, breaking out of your daze. He stops for a second, looking offended then his playfulness comes back. He starts running then tackles you two into the water. You come back up with salt in your mouth and spit it at his face.

“Asshole!” You chuckle. His crows feet become more prominent as he laughs along with you.

“We’re only playin’”

You push him off of you and splash him. A huge wave comes through and pushes both of you towards the shore. Murph grabs your arm and hauls you up and you follow him back to the blanket to dry off. Murph picks your shoes up on the way back over and sets them by his shoes. He hands you a towel and you dry off as best at you can.

Both of you plop down onto the blanket and Murph pulls out his bowl and some weed packing it in there.

The sun is almost gone, your feelings about today conflict. Sure you slept until five in the evening but you also got to go out to a restaurant and beach with Murph.

The smell of weed gets caught in your nose, Murph elbows you and you take the bowl from his hand. You suck in gently and blow out, your anxieties dissipating like the smoke in the air.

“What do you plan on doing after this?” Murph asks, he sounds more mellow than usual. You shrug and furrow your brows.

“Dunno, maybe school, but I wouldn’t know how to pay for it. I was also thinking of part time jobs. Uh- are you guys planning on going through the warehouses I told you about?”

“Probably, why?”

“ID and important documents are in one of the buildings. Unless they someone found it, which isn’t likely. I’m good at hiding stuff like that.”

“You tell me where it is and I’ll make sure to look for it.”

“Perfect.”

“Kiddo.”

You look over at him and knit your brows together. He purses his lips, takes a quick hit and look back at you.

“If you need help paying for anything I can do it. I wanna help you. I’ll do anything you ask.” His demeanor changes, you smile and look down then back up at him.

“What about paying you back. What if I ca-“

“Don’t worry about any of that. I don’t care. I just wanna make sure you’re well off.” Murph’s bottom lip sticks out. You try and not notice it, so you nod your head.

“Okay.”

The beach is quiet other than the ocean waves splashing against the sand. The silence is not longer awkward, but Murph still breaks it.

“I know how much I’ve told you this but stay with me as long as you want. My money isn’t getting spent on anything but you and me. I promise I’ll never get sick of you.”

Your heart swells, you can’t help the next words that come from your mouth.

“Even if it’s forever?”

“Especially if it’s forever.”

You look over at Murph again. His hair looks silver in the moonlight. You stare at his lips. Your mouth hangs open as you stare at him lighting his bowl again. When he sets down his lighter after putting out the bowl, you take your chance.

You place your hands on his cheeks and make him look at you. His eyes look down and the two of you lean in. You open your mouth and he follows, letting the smoke flow into your mouth. He takes the back of your head and deepens the kiss, the smoke slowly falling from it.

Letting go the two of you stare into each other’s eyes and pant.

“Kiss me again.” You mumble, slowly crawling onto Murph’s lap. His thumb swipe over and over again across your lip until he decides to kiss you again. The kiss is rough, his thumbs caressing your face.

Murph’s mouth opens, his tongue darts into your mouth playing with your tongue. You moan feeling down his neck and onto the hair on his chest.

Murph moans feeling up and down your thighs. You let go and the two of you stare at each other in a daze, smiling lazily at each other.

“I don’t think I’ll ever leave you Murph.” You admit.

To say you were attached to Murph Connors was such an understatement. He is the first person to show you decency, to respect you and make you feel like you had a chance at life.

“I don’t want you to ever leave.” He kisses your lips gently.

You were in love with Murph Connors and from the way he looked and spoke to you, you knew he felt the same.

[the-sound-of-her-wings]

The Waynes - 1 - I Know Nothing Changes in This World

(Bruce Wayne x OC)

SUMMARY

A lead lands Bruce Wayne in a familiar setting, a fundraising event for one of Gotham's numerous charities. When it seems it was all for nothing, he catches the eye of Gotham's rising star, Aurora Meyer.

He's not looking for love, still recovering from Selina leaving him at the altar. She's looking for a way out of an uncomfortable situation. Always the hero, Bruce saves her from the event. When it becomes clear the danger is far greater than she originally let on, they come up with a solution. Pretend to be in love.

What could possibly go wrong?

(MASTERLIST & GENERAL WARNINGS)

NEXT

Bruce runs a hand through his hair, letting a finger fall behind his ear, turning off his comms. He politely dismisses himself from the group of women encircling him. It was expected. His first public appearance after the disastrous end to his previous relationship was bound to draw them in, like sharks to blood. He wasn’t here for them. This was a matter of business.

The lead was a dead end. Oswald Cobblepot is nowhere to be found, none of his lackeys or his second in command present at this fundraising event. In fact, the only white-collar criminals here tonight are the Falcones. It is the newest member of their family, a girl whispered to be Sofia’s protégé, who catches his eye. 

Aurora Meyer stands next to Sofia Falcone, looking like a dream. Her hairstyle comes straight out of the 1980s, a honey-blonde ball of undefined curls blown away from her face. Her piercing blue eyes, the color of the sky just after the first snow, stare directly into his own. Her eye makeup is simple: a well-defined wing sharp enough to cut. The bold red lip paired with the faintest pink blush, her natural porcelain skin not providing any life in her face. She raises her eyebrow at him and struts over.

The dress she wears is out of fashion, old school compared to the tight bodycon dresses the majority of Sofia’s guests are wearing. Sofia herself is dressed in something a little more on trend, altered to exaggerate her figure. Aurora’s dress is floor length with a slit going up the side, ending in the middle of her thigh. The dress itself is a light blush color, but it is almost impossible to see under the black lace and embroidery, an intricate floral pattern tightly woven together by design. The sleeves are sheer but heavily embroidered, ending just at her knuckles, a little bow keeping them in place at the wrists. The neckline is by far the most conservative of the night, her cleavage hidden under black roses, leaves, and beads. From far away, it almost looks like the wings of little bats. A black bow is tied at the waist, practically begging for someone to come along and untie it.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Bruce. Sofia has told me so much about you.” She holds out her hand, and Bruce takes it, making a quick note of her fingernails. Unlike the rest of her, which is so well put together, her nails are unpainted and chewed, a non-existent free edge accompanying blood-stained cuticles. Her fingertips are uncalloused, pristine. He kisses the top of her exposed knuckles and feels the skin tense.

She’s just another shark drawn to blood.

“Sofia never mentioned how beautiful you were. If she had, we might have met sooner,” Bruce states, letting go of her hand. He’d been meaning to get more information on the woman, the songbird that took Gotham’s underworld by storm. He’s heard all sorts of rumors about her. The most interesting, yet least likely theory, is that she’s a distant relative of Black Canary. Aurora is known for her no-bullshit attitude, for standing up to the most unsavory of the Rogues gallery, and for helping the ones she deemed worthy. He’d ask Dinah to dispel the theory, but the woman standing in front of him is nothing like her.

Aurora’s confidence dissolves the second he touches her, almost reflexively shaking out the hand he’d kissed. Her face flushes a bright red as she visibly folds into herself, upper back arching and hands going to the base of her neck. Her shy smile is almost hidden by her head, pointed so low it might as well be on the floor. He gives her a wide, toothless grin, trying to signal she can relax, and she slowly unfurls. 

A waiter saves him, offering them drinks. Bruce grabs a glass of red wine enthusiastically, only to see Aurora take a glass of water. She sips at it nervously, holding it close to her face, her red lipstick leaving a perfect imprint on the glass.

“I hear a record deal might be in the works,” Bruce states, intrigued by the shift in her behavior. Aurora is easy to read, incredibly so, her true anxious energy and melancholy demeanor shining through her barely worn mask. Like a bird about to take flight, too scared to take that last leap forward. 

“Sofia’s connected me with the people who signed Foxglove. She thinks I could be bigger, but I’m not so sure. My songs aren’t… they’re very Gotham. I’m not sure people outside the city would enjoy my music.” She explains, swirling the water around the glass with a flick of her wrist. Sofia has taught her well, but the action doesn’t seem natural. Her left hand is balled in her dress, fingers absentmindedly rubbing the fabric between them, an unconscious attempt at self-soothing. 

Bruce recalls the first song he heard her sing. She was decidedly less clothed then, and significantly more confident than she seems now. It was mesmerizing. Her performance was dedicated to Scarecrow, who sat in the front row that night, taking in her enthralling and disturbed performance. She wasn’t scared of him. The song felt like a provocation, like a threat, I know what fear is and I am not afraid. Crane came in without a fight after that. He never got the chance to thank her for it/

“There’s a market for everything. I’m sure the world will have no trouble appreciating your music.” He replies, pretending to sip at his red wine. “I like what I’ve heard so far.” He adds.

“You’ve listened to my EP?” She asks, her head tilted and her brow furrowed, almost like she hadn’t expected him to. The question is laughable because everyone in Gotham has heard that EP. It’s inescapable.

“One of my sons shared it with me.” He responds.

Aurora silently gags, raising the glass to her lips, trying to hide her reaction. Immediately, she shifts her weight to her right side and her spine straightens. Her pupils are blown so wide he’s mildly concerned she might have been drugged. She forcibly closes her eyes and blinks slowly when she reopens them, forcing herself back into whatever box Sofia has built for her. Her pupils begin to return to normal as she stares at the water in the glass. 

The night her EP dropped, Jason stormed into the cave, a whirlwind of anger about to become a tornado. He’d thrown a physical copy directly into Bruce’s lap, pointed at it, and yelled, “How the FUCK does a civilian know what happened to me?” Bruce examined the EP, his gaze landing on the song causing his son distress. The End of Robin is a little less than three minutes long, a heavy rock number in the middle of the EP, a huge departure from its folk and indie influences. It describes Jason’s death from the Joker’s perspective, of how he beat him to death with a crowbar and left him to die in an explosion, with phrases like ‘cause I hit what I aim for repeating throughout.

There’s a section, toward the end of the song, that switches to Batman’s perspective, asking over and over again, What have you done? It’s haunted Bruce ever since he heard it, and made him even more curious about the woman who wrote it. 

Aurora opens her mouth and takes a deep breath, the air pulls in so suddenly it makes a small whistling noise. “Did you like it?” She asks, holding it while she waits for his response.

Bruce stares into his wine, pondering the EP. Sunday Morning was ethereal and lovely, ignoring the lyrics about being beaten badly by an abusive boyfriend. Crush has a more traditional feeling, describing a deadbeat man that she can’t get out of her head. The End of Robin, well. Bruce still doesn’t know how he feels about it, no matter how many times he listens to it. Before the Eyes of Storytelling Girls is simultaneously the most explicitly political song and the most relaxing. Inbred closes out the EP a song about incest and abuse that ends with Aurora belting that they were wrong. He enjoys it, minus the song about Jason. 

“It was very dark. But very beautiful. A lot like Gotham.” He states. It’s startling, almost, how much the EP reminds him of the city. Especially since Aurora’s accent indicates she’s not a native. The little research he’s had time to do into her suggests she came to the city a little more than a year and a half ago. 

A smile lights up her entire face, able to breathe again. She almost laughs with relief, her posture returning to normal, her shoulders relaxing, and her fingers unclenching. “What’s your favorite song?” She asks.

“Before the Eyes of Storytelling Girls,” He replies, easily. It is the most lighthearted song, the one with the most vivid imagery and the most hopeful outcome. 

“That’s a good choice, but my favorite will always be Inbred.” She responds immediately, as if she hadn’t written the entire album, “There’s something about recognizing what’s happening is wrong, and even if you’re powerless to stop it, being able to scream about it.” She finishes the last of her water. A waiter comes by and takes it, and Bruce hands him his untouched wine.

The music begins to swell.

“Care to dance?” He asks, holding out his hand, hoping the conversation has relaxed her enough that she will accept. 

She scrunches her nose, and her face flushes red again, but she takes his hand. Aurora is a passable dancer, avoiding stepping on his toes and dancing in rhythm with the music, but her back feels rigid beneath his fingertips. 

“I’ve been watching you, you know.” Aurora murmurs, her eyes avoiding his face as if her life depended on it. 

“Have you?” He replies, an eyebrow raised.

“You don’t act the same around other people. It’s like….” She trails off, her lips pursing and her forehead crinkling as she thinks, “It’s like you’re pretending to be someone else.” She whispers, regaining her confidence. Bruce twirls her and brings her in, his arms encircling her body.

Bruce wants to keep her there, to ask how she can tell, but the song calls for her to be twirled out of his grasp. He abides by the rules of the dance floor and watches as she searches his face for a reaction. When they come close again, their hands touching and nothing else, he asks, “Is that so?”

She opens her mouth slightly, her top teeth resting on top of her tongue, not quite biting down, “You’re a smart man, Bruce. That was clear from the moment we met. So why am I the only one who sees it?” She asks. He dips her, their foreheads touching gently as he does, staring deeply into her eyes. 

“How’d you know?” He whispers. 

She averts her eyes as she replies, “You’ve been studying me like I’m some sort of puzzle. But I’m just a woman, Bruce. A woman who’d like you to take her home.” She looks into his eyes then, adoration and longing plain as day, but gone the moment she blinks. It’s replaced by something that looks like regret but tastes like shame.

Bruce pulls her out of the dip but keeps her close. “Let’s finish this back at my place.” He murmurs in her ear, his left arm snaking around her. She laughs a little too hard at this, throwing her head back, even as goosebumps form on her exposed neck. Whatever game she’s playing at, she’s playing it well. “Let me tell my employer I’ll be leaving for the evening.” She states, tapping the arm around her waist lightly. Bruce relents, watching the way her hips move as she walks away, trying to shift back into his Brucie persona. 

Sofia Falcone looks over Aurora’s shoulder and spots him. She’s wearing the world’s smugest grin on her face, nodding knowingly towards Aurora. She taps the younger woman’s shoulder lightly in encouragement. The two exchange kisses on the cheek, and after two minutes, Aurora is back in his grasp. She’s wearing a black feathery coat and has a black clutch in her hand, big enough to hold a phone and a wallet and not much else. Her left-hand reaches for his right, “Let’s get out of here.” She says, and her smile is so beautiful even as her hand shakes in his grasp.  

The cameras are everywhere as soon as they step outside, blinding lights in every direction. She seems completely unphased by them, following his lead of trying to flee as fast as possible. Bruce doesn’t let the paparazzi ruin his chivalry, holding the door open for her. She flashes a weak smile at him as she settles in. He closes the door behind her with an adequate amount of force. Silence settles between them until the flashing lights are far in the rearview mirror.

“I don’t know how you do it. I feel like I was suffocating in there.” She comments, resting her head against her hand, looking out the window at the bright city lights. 

“It gets easier,” He replies, eyes strictly on the road. “I can give you pointers, if you like.”

She laughs, a pathetic sort of noise that sounds like a dying bird. “I’m sure you could.” She states, almost resigned. There’s a moment of silence, filled with a new kind of tension, the kind that radiates off of everyone who interacts with him when he’s in the suit. 

“Listen, Bruce…” And she’s laughing again, her nerves getting the better of her. “I needed to get out of there. I’m sure I could have communicated that better, and I’m really sorry I led you on.” There’s a beat before she adds, “Not that I’m entirely uninterested. I’m just not really in a place for…” She sighs, “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.” 

Bruce flicks on the right turn signal, slowing down before the turn. When he glances in the right mirror, he catches a glimpse of her. She has a finger in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully on the non-existent nail. Despite her crippling self-doubt, he’s able to read between the lines. Her plea during their dance had been clear, that she needed to leave now and that he was her way out. 

“Do you want me to drive you home?” He asks. They’re almost at the border of the city, the road leading to Wayne Manor only a few miles from their current location. It would be easier to continue on his current course, but not if it meant making Aurora uncomfortable. 

“Can’t.” She sniffs, “I live with Sofia. I thought it was smart, but…” She trails off, and he can practically feel her overthinking. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.” He hears her sink further down into her seat, her dress rustling as she slides back.  

“You realized you were in a bad situation and you asked for help. That sounds pretty smart to me.” Bruce responds. 

She scoffs, “Yeah. Only took me a year and a half to realize how fucked I was. And the funniest part is, I could have avoided the whole thing but I was just so scared.” 

The city is fading into his rearview mirror as he begins to pick apart the sentence in his mind, deconstructing it and reconstructing it in numerous ways to try and gleam more than what her words let on. From the framing, it doesn’t sound like she’s in physical harm – maybe it took her that long to figure out that the Falcone family are dirty. But how fucked implies a tacit acknowledgment of an already fucked situation, as though she knew of the family’s criminal history and went to them anyway. And, until now, she didn’t realize the extent of their corruption and debauchery. Her following sentence lends credence to this, asserting that she didn’t have to tie herself up in their schemes, but that her fear got in the way. She was scared, terrified, and that left the pressing question – Scared of what? 

“I just wish things were easier.” She murmurs. He sees the light of a phone screen out of the corner of his eye, so brief he doubts she even registered the time. When the sound of a violin begins to flood his car, it’s clear why she unlocked her phone. 

The music provides a reason to remain silent, allows him to wander the labyrinth of his brain, and overanalyze each of her sentences, all of her small quirks. Studying me like I’m some sort of puzzle, her voice echoes in his mind. She saw clinical examination in his extended glances and longing stares, not infatuation. He’d toned down his Brucie persona to fit in with her demure demeanor, enough that she saw right through it. The phrase that followed, I’m just a woman, could be easily dismissed as internalized sexism, deflection. It was the exact opposite, a direct assertion that she knew she was being studied precisely because of who she associated with, because of her mediocre rise, because he could tell there was something more under the pile of blonder curls. It was a clear message: I am normal. But that was only half the message The other part of it, the part that makes it hard to keep his eyes on the road instead of studying her body language, is troubling. I am normal and you are not. 

Bruce pulls into the driveway of the manor, parking his car close to the front entrance. He turns to check on his passenger and finds her back instead of her face, body curled into a ball. It moves as she breathes, deep inhalation followed by a drawn-out exhale. The music comes to an abrupt halt after he turns off the car. She rolls over, eyes bleary and looking up at him with equal parts suspicion and curiosity.

“Have a nice nap?” He asks, a warm smile on his lips. 

She rolls her eyes, but can’t hide the way the corners of her mouth move upwards and her cheeks darken. She blinks a few times, still drowsy. A few moments later, Bruce realizes he’s been staring at her this entire time, and pulling his gaze away from her. He uses the opportunity to exit the vehicle.

By the time he makes it to the other side, her door is already open, and she has one foot on the pavement. She pulls herself using the woe handle, not bothering to ask for his help. No, clearly asserting that she does not want his help, not in this. She shuts the door with her hip while he looks on. 

When he holds out his arm, she hesitates, her jaw visibly clenching and her shoulders stiffening. Then it’s gone, almost like it never existed, and she’s looped her right arm under his left. She doesn’t lean into it, but she’s not actively holding herself away from him, either. 

“Welcome to my home,” He states, crossing the threshold from the outside world into the manor. 

The sigh that falls from Aurora’s lips sounds like a prayer. He feels her entire body relax. Her shoulders have shifted, no longer tight and scrunched up toward her ears. Her head is angled upward, taking in the foyer like it’s her first time seeing a place so grand. Her expression is of pure joy, of wonder – of relief. Soft eyes land on him, still pointed upward given their height difference. Aurora looks at him like she’s just seen snow for the first time. Everything about her is lighter now that she’s standing here, in the brightly lit halls of his childhood home. Now that she’s looking at him. 

“It’s beautiful,” She whispers, removing her arm from where it rested in is. She takes a step forward and twirls, her skirt rising enough to expose her black ballet flats. When she glances back at him, her smile wavers slightly, as if she expects his disapproval. He gives her a reassuring smile and takes a step forward.

“May I take your coat?” Bruce asks. He keeps his hands by his side, clearly visible, as he awaits her response. Her reactions have been hot and cold all night, sometimes willing to tolerate his touch and other times vehemently despising it. It suggests a history of trauma, perhaps the kind her songs touch on. 

“Of course,” She replies, shrugging the coat off of her shoulders. Aurora hands it to him by dangling it from three fingers. He takes it without touching her, choosing to grab the plush material over her hand. 

When he looks over his shoulder as he puts the coat in the coat room, he sees Aurora standing in the center of the foyer, taking in the stone carvings on the ceiling, neck and arms moving in sharp, fluid motions. Her mouth is open slightly, awe so intense she’s unable to keep it closed. She spins on her heels, allowing more of herself to take in the building. As he returns to the foyer proper, Aurora catches his fixed look and gives him the warmest, most genuine smile he’s ever seen. “This is better than I could have ever imagined,” She says. 

“Than you imagined?” He questions, taking a step closer to her, an eyebrow raised. 

She chuckles, unable to suppress it or the smile on her face, glancing at the floor before looking at him, “You’re a fantasy, Bruce, for girls like me. The closest thing Gotham has to Prince. Of course, I imagined it.” She states, her head tilting to the side. Aurora’s teasing is light and flirtatious but lacks a distinct sexual charge. She makes no effort to get closer to him, intent on watching him at the distance they are now.

He wants to ask about that line of thought, inquire further about what she meant by girls like her, but Alfred strides into the room, cutting him off. 

“I apologize for my delay, Miss. Master Wayne did not inform me we had a guest.” The side eye his butler gives him could kill. “I’m Alfred Pennyworth, the family butler. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He holds out his gloved hand, bowing his head.

Bruce had informed Alfred that a guest would be joining them tonight. There was a protocol for these sorts of stunts, Bruce pulling them numerous times over the years. Alfred was well aware of what was to come the second Bruce entered his car. The glare, the arriving late, the exact phrase – all intentional, all calculated.

“The pleasure is all mine. I’m Aurora Meyer. I apologize for any trouble I’ve caused,” She replies, shaking it with both hands. The pitch of her voice shifts slightly, up a note or two in the octave it presides, but it seems unintentional. It makes her sound sweeter, kinder, even less threatening. She slides her hands off of his, but they do not return to her side. Instead, they rest in front of her stomach, taking turns picking at the thumbnail on either hand. 

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Alfred replies, shooting an annoyed glance at Bruce. 

Aurora chuckles, bringing her left hand to her face as if trying to hide her smile.

“Is there anything I could assist you with? I have the kettle on if you’d like some tea.” 

“I’d love tea, thank you. Do you have Earl Grey?” She states, inching closer to Bruce. Her left hand brushes against his right, and he takes it. Her hands are warm, almost clammy, and shake slightly in his grasp. He decides he’ll follow her lead, wherever it takes them if it gives him more clues to her true intent. 

“Of course. We’re a respectable household, after all.” Alfred gestures for them to follow him, and they begin the walk to the kitchen. 

“Sofia said he’s been with your family for a very long time,” Aurora murmurs, leaning her head against his shoulder. “He seems wonderful.” 

“He is,” Bruce replies. 

When they reach the kitchen, Bruce pulls out a chair for her before taking his own, which she immediately moves to be closer to him.

“I confess, your accent sounds quite familiar, but I can’t place it,” Alfred states, adding the bags of Earl Grey tea to the teapot. 

“Philly,” She begins, “I’m surprised you picked up on it. Most people don’t recognize I have one until I ask for a glass of water,” Aurora states. Bruce raises an eyebrow at the familiar pronunciation of water, long associated with the city. The ah sound found in most accents is replaced with an o sound, almost like she’s saying wood. The Gotham accent is similar, keeping the ah sound while transforming the ter into der. “Have you ever been?” 

“A few times. Not as often as I would have liked.” Alfred responds with a noncommittal and vague answer. 

Bruce nods in agreement, usually only entering the city for business and the occasional field trip with one of his kids. “What’s its nickname? The City of Brotherly Love?” He asks, knowing the answer.

Aurora rolls her eyes and bites down on her lip hard to suppress a smile, “Yes. But we interpret brotherly very literally.” This comment solidifies in his mind that she is not an only child, her amused expression and longing gaze reminiscent of a childhood spent with at least one rambunctious brother. “It’s fine, really. No worse or better than any other city.” 

Except Philly is much better than Gotham, if only because it lacks any sort of rogues trying to destroy it. All of Philly’s statistics are better, despite its slightly larger size: Its crime, poverty, and homelessness rates are all lower, and its graduation and literacy rates are higher. His best efforts fail in comparison, and even though Wayne Industries offers some of the best benefits and wages on the market, it’s often not enough to draw people in. 

“Would you like sugar or milk in your tea?” Alfred asks, placing an empty cup and saucer in front of her. 

“Both please.” She answers.

He nods, pouring the tea into the cup. He adds a spoonful of sugar and a dash of milk, handing Aurora a spoon to stir. She does, making sure all of the ingredients are combined before she takes her first sip.

Bruce waits until she’s finished swallowing and sets the teacup down on the saucer to begin his line of questioning, “Why did you come to Gotham?” 

She huffs, frowning, not at the question but at herself, “I’ve been asking myself the same question.” She mutters, staring deeply into her tea, biting her lip. Aurora closes her eyes, and when she reopens them a pained smile on her face, “Things weren’t… I couldn’t stay in Philly. Gotham was the closest city of a similar size, somewhere that could launch my music career.” 

A simple question, and already he’s pushed her too far. Bruce stirs his tea, letting his butler take charge of the conversation. 

“And I’ve heard you’ve done just that. I must say, I quite enjoyed your EP. You have a wonderful voice.” Alfred says, placing the pieces of cake in front of them. He flicks his eyes to Bruce, a brief illumination of his concern regarding her prior comment, before refocusing on the woman in front of him.

Aurora flushes red and tucks a piece of hair behind her face. She licks her lips nervously, and her upper body caves inward, making her appear smaller, “Thank you. I really appreciate that.” She picks up her fork, taking a small bite of the chocolate cake, body slowly unfurling as she allows herself to enjoy it. 

“Is there apple cider vinegar in this?” She asks, chewing thoughtfully. 

“There is,” Alfred confirms, both eyebrows raised and an amused smile on his face. He crosses his arms and tilts his head. “How did you know?” 

Aurora shrugs, sinking her fork into the cake, “That’s how my mom made it. I’ve tried to recreate it for years with no success, despite having the recipe. Sofia’s personal chef attempted to make it for my birthday-“ She twirls the forkful on the plate, studying it. “It was wonderful, but it wasn’t my mom’s cake. This,” She gestures, raising the fork before sliding it into her mouth, “is the closest anyone’s ever come to recreating it. And you weren’t even trying.”

Her mother is dead. Sofia attempted to woo her through grand and personal gestures, but it didn’t work. Alfred is an excellent baker. The bits and pieces of information are forming a picture in his mind and it’s starting to look like a mirror. 

“I’d be happy to look over your family recipe, if you’d like. Sometimes an old recipe needs a pair of fresh eyes.” Alfred states. 

“I’d really appreciate that.” She says, her fingers reaching out looking for Bruce, as if seeking reassurance. He rests his hand on top of hers and she gives him a weak smile. “She um..” She scoffs, amused at whatever she’s thinking about, “She taught me how to play piano. If it wasn’t for her… I never would have landed the job with the Falcones in the first place.” 

The memory of Tim showing him the job listing for an “in-home jazz pianist” hits him like a freight train. He’s exasperated, his voice almost cracking, “That’s gotta be a front, right? Who hires an in-home jazz pianist?” That was almost a year ago. 

“My mom played, too. She tried to teach me, but I could never sit still long enough to learn.” Bruce responds. “I still have her baby grand piano, if you’d like to play it. I’m not sure it’s in tune.” 

“It is,” Alfred replies, taking the empty plates away.

“Another time, maybe. It’s a bit late for that sort of thing.” She bats her lashes, a seductive look in her glassy eyes. As they stand, Aurora practically throws herself into his side, one arm wrapped around his waist. She looks up at him and licks her lips, a small smirk sliding into place. Bruce plays his hand in the small of her back and she stiffens. He goes to remove it, but she shakes her head slightly, studying him with hard eyes.

He takes the cue and says good night to his beloved butler, who promises to bring them water before the night is over. Aurora lightly strokes his side as they walk towards his bedroom, almost her full weight leaning into his side. It’s not until they are inside the room that she pulls herself away from him, both arms going to her shoulders, rubbing them as if they’re cold. She paces the room, taking stock of the several doors, identifying the closet and bathroom before she comes anywhere close to him.

“I’m sorry. I must seem so…” She shakes her head, unable to finish the sentence. She runs a hand through her blonde hair.

“Stressed?” He suggests.

“Yeah,” She mutters, shaking out her hands again. She beats her fingers together rhythmically, staring blankly ahead. Completely disassociating. 

“Alfred can prepare a room if-“ He begins.

“I appreciate that, I really do, but if I’m going to make this look real, I have to sleep in this room.” Aurora murmurs, snapping out of her trance. Her jaw is tight and her voice sounds unsteady. She’s looking up at him through the tops of her eyes, her head unmoving. She looks at her feet before returning her gaze back to his face, this time angling her head to look directly into his eyes, “Do you have something I could wear to bed?” 

He doesn’t have to pretend in front of Alfred, but she does. She doesn’t know the man personally, and with the supposedly glowing review from Sofia, how is she supposed to trust him? What if he leaked something to the press? What if he said the wrong thing to the Falcones?

“I should have something.” He responds, knowing full well that there is way too much lingerie in the back of his closet. It’s been months, but he can’t bring himself to get rid of it. Bruce leads the way, turning the light on with one finger. It’s a large room, and Selina’s collection lines the back of it, almost entirely black. He stays in the doorway, not looking inside. Aurora disappears into it. 

“That much of a playboy, are we?” She teases, reappearing next to him a few minutes later, voice light and airy. Her tone is almost seductive, but nothing about her body language indicates she’s interested. The comment is unexpectedly cruel. Selina left him at the altar. It was headline news for weeks. Either she didn’t care, or she didn’t know, and both strike him as equally out of character.

“They belong to my former partner. She never came back for them.” Bruce says.

Aurora’s face visibly pales. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out, and she looks at him with equal parts terror and sympathy, “I am so sorry. I had no idea.” 

Sofia would have talked about it, surely, if she was grooming her to be her protégé. Sofia told me so much about you and yet neglected a very important detail from an extremely recent event. The longer he’s spent with Aurora, the more uncertain he is about her place among the Falcone. He thought, much like the other women he was introduced to at the party, that Aurora was the Falcone family’s push for his hand in marriage. It’s a game of chess, with Aurora as the pawn. But does she know she’s playing?

She sulks past him, heading towards the bathroom. Once she arrives, she hovers at the door, hugging the lingerie and hanger tightly to her chest. “Bruce?” Aurora says, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes refusing to meet his. “Can you?” She asks, her left hand moving quickly, pointer finger gesturing to the back of her dress. 

“Of course,” He responds, taking even-paced steps toward her. If he moved too slowly or too quickly, her anxiety would heighten even further. 

She turns around once he’s close enough to touch her. She uses her left hand to gather her curls and tuck them away from her neck out of habit. The scooped neckline of the dress is nowhere near the end of her hair. Carefully, trying to avoid touching her bare skin, he unclips the back of the dress. When he goes for the zipper, it unzips about an inch before he’s met with resistance. He pulls slightly harder, but it refuses to budge. He takes the zipper all the way back up and starts over. It does not make a difference. Nothing seems amiss on this side of the dress, but there’s a chance the lining has bunched and is getting stuck in the teeth. 

“It’s stuck, isn’t it?” Aurora says with a sigh.

“Yes. I think the lining might be getting caught.” He replies, trying and failing once more. “I won’t be unable to tell unless-“

“You can touch me, Bruce.” She states, “It’s fine, really. I won’t break.” She adds, even as she visibly stiffens just from the idea. 

Aurora’s skin reacts the moment Bruce reaches into the back of the dress, goosebumps visibly appearing on her back. She lets out a small gasp, likely from the temperature difference, as his ice-cold hand rests against her warm back. He spreads the fabric between his fingers, using his left hand to slide the zipper down, this time meeting no resistance. Once he finishes unzipping the dress, he removes his hand. She whips around immediately and mutters a quick thank you before closing the bathroom door in his face. 

Bruce bites his lip and looks up at the ceiling and closes his eyes. When he reopens them, he shakes his head and walks over to his nightstand. He takes off his watch and cuff links, followed by the comm near his ear. 

You can touch me, Bruce. It’s fine, really. I won’t break. Was his apprehension that clear? Did she realize he was respecting her unstated boundaries? 

He slides the comm into the drawer of the nightstand. Bruce takes off his suit jacket, marching towards his closet to find an empty clothes hanger. His white dress shirt gets tossed into the hamper, his shoes slid back into place next to the dozens of other pairs. 

You can touch me, Bruce. I won’t break. Did his hands-off treatment come across as assuming fragility or weakness? Or just acceptance that, unless she allowed him to help, she’d be stuck in that dress? Would she prefer Alfred help her with it?

Bruce removes his dress pants and slides into a pair of black sweatpants. He reaches for a black hoodie, but decides against it, instead pulling on a black sweater. He flicks out the closet light, pretending he hadn’t seen one of Selina’s old dresses lying on the floor. 

You can touch me, Bruce.

He sits on the edge of the bed, his hands under his armpits to warm them. 

You can touch me.

He breathes out through his nose, annoyed at his own thought process. 

You can- 

He hears the bathroom door open. He looks across the room, removing his hands from his armpits.

Aurora’s cheeks and nose are bright red, possibly from vigorously scrubbing away at her makeup. Her forehead and chin look no worse for wear, pointing to rosacea as the cause, not scrubbing. She has dark circles under her puffy eyes and her lips are stained. She clutches her dress to her body, hiding the choice of lingerie below. Her shoes are in her other hand, looking incredibly worn. 

“Where should I put these?” She asks.

“I will take them, Miss Meyer,” Alfred states, entering the room. He sets the tray holding two glasses of water on the nightstand before retreating to Aurora’s aid, taking the bulky gown from her. “Is there anything else you need?” 

“No, Alfred. Thank you.” Aurora states. She had the forethought to grab one of the many silk robes in his closet, and has it tied tightly around her waist. She turns toward Bruce before Alfred has even left the room, walking over slowly, taking her time to undo the strings of the robe. The lingerie isn’t an exact fit. The top is loose, straps barely clinging to her shoulders, and the panties are tight, practically digging into her skin. It can’t be comfortable. 

She’s straddling him by the time the door closes and the lights go out, the robe falling to the ground behind her.

“Will he be back later?” Aurora whispers into his ear, her breath hot against it, making the hair on his arms stand up. Her hands are on either side of his head, caressing his face.

“Not tonight,” Bruce replies.

“Good.” She states, removing her hands and pulling her face away from his. She stays seated in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist. 

“You know how to put on a show,” he comments. The performance, whether she realizes it or not, is ongoing. 

“I do what I have to,” Aurora replies with a shrug, causing the strap of the bra she’s wearing to fall off her shoulder. She hasn’t noticed, her eyes looking somewhere behind him. He wants to reach out, fix it for her, but he’s not sure if he should. She shifts in his lap, relaxing her legs slightly, but making no effort to leave it. Her gaze settles back on his eyes.

You can touch me, they whisper.

No. He can’t. He does not believe her lying eyes. He believes her body, the way her spine is straight and her shoulders are pinned back, the way she can’t stay still knowing he’s beneath her. The way her breaths are shaky and uneven. She doesn’t want to be touched, not like that, and he can prove it. 

He uses his pinky finger, tracing up her arm until it gets to the strap. He carries it all the way up to her shoulder, dragging it until it snaps back into place. Aurora’s face is burning up, her head looking at his chest as she tucks a curl behind her ear. Her entire body is rigid. Bruce places a hand under her chin, raising her head so he can look her in the eye.

“We don’t have to do anything.” He says. You can say no. He will say no if she can’t form the words. 

“I know,” Aurora says quietly, resting the full weight of her head in his hand. “I just thought…” She trails off, closing her eyes, her entire face scrunching. He can feel her body shaking in his lap, her hands nervously pawing at his chest, “Can you hold me, please?” She asks, her voice breaking. 

He nods, removing his hand and wrapping her in a tight hug. Her head hits his chest with an audible thud, the thin white t-shirt doing nothing to cushion the blow. One of her arms is thrown over his shoulder, the other tight around his waist. Silently, she begins to cry into his chest, her grip on him slipping. The tears quickly turn into uncontrollable shaking caused by muffled sobs. Bruce pulls her closer, his right hand petting her hair. 

“Let it out” He whispers. 

The sound that comes out of her mouth is agonizing. Her anguish is shattering her, wracking through her body like an earthquake, and he can do nothing to stop it. Her arms fall from him, lying lifeless at her side. She starts to hyperventilate between sobs, unable to calm herself down. 

Bruce rubs her back, pressing his lips to the top of her head, lightly rocking her back in forth. It’s all in an attempt to ground her, bring her back into the moment, because she’s collapsed so far in his arms that he’s not sure she’s still in reality. “You’re safe,” He coos, the standard response to people in crisis, and that’s when he realizes why she’s crying. 

She’s crying because she feels safe. 

Aurora’s breathing slows, deep breaths in and out through her mouth, the warm air hot against his chest. Her nose is likely too clogged to take on air. She presses one of her hands to his chest like she’s reminding herself he’s there. 

“I’m sorry,” She mutters, removing herself from her place in his lap, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. They are bleary and bloodshot, swollen from the irritation of the tears. Snot pools above her lips and her cheeks are scarlet. Her lip is bleeding from when she tried to keep her mouth forcibly closed. “I don’t know why I did that.” She turns toward the window, walking toward it.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He replies, following after her. Bruce takes off his sweater and places it on her shoulder. He stands beside her, watching as she pulls her arms through, finger moving methodically as she buttons it. 

“I can’t go back there.” Aurora breathes, her fingers clutching tightly to the collar of the sweater, looking out at the night sky. “Sofia is lovely but her brothers… her father…” She trails off. 

Bruce was never the target of some scheme. The game the Falcones are playing is with her life, with her future, not his. The Falcones recruit talent, willing or otherwise. 

“Then you don’t go back.” He states. 

She turns toward him, an unreadable expression on her face, left hand massaging her neck, “I have nowhere else to go.” 

They’d kill her if she ran. She might kill herself if she stayed. But that’s why she’s here, isn’t it? He’d been the escape plan all along. He’s the only man in this city both powerful enough to protect her and kind enough to not force himself on her. 

“Stay here. With me.” Bruce says. 

Aurora’s arms drop to her side, her eyes wide and searching his for answers, “What?”

It was presumptive to assume she was thinking that far ahead. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, not a calculated plan to put her in the best position possible. She’s intelligent, is able to see past his persona with ease, but she’s not a strategist.

“All night you’ve been setting up the building blocks of a fake relationship.” He explains, “Why not keep up the charade?” 

It will do nothing to harm his public image and can only serve to boost hers. It takes her out of a horrific situation and places her in a safe environment. It’s not love, but it could be friendship. 

“You expect people to believe one night was all it took to convince you, a recently divorced man renowned for his many hookups, to fall completely head over heels in love with me?” She crosses her arms, and suddenly the image of a confident blonde strutting across the stage of Gotham’s most famous nightclubs seems more real. 

“Yes.” He replies, mirroring her posture.

She narrows her eyes at him, her nose scrunching like she smelled something funny, unconvinced. Bruce has lived in the public eye long enough to know that people see and hear what they want to see. And right now, what they want to see, is their famous billionaire happy again after the horrible conclusion of his last relationship. 

“The public is far more gullible than you think.” He states, uncrossing his arm. 

She nods, her eyes relaxing, though he’s not certain she believes him.

“Will your kids believe it?” She questions. Only two of them live in the manor anymore, but it’s still a reasonable question.

“I don’t know.” He lies. His family is full of detectives, one of whom learned to read body language far before any language. It will be hours, maybe a day at most before they are in on the secret. He’ll brief them on it tomorrow morning, so they are prepared. So they can act like they think it’s real. 

“I’ll stay,” Aurora whispers, uncrossing her arms. She holds out both of her hands, palm upward, asking him to take them. He does, unsure if she means to shake on it. She doesn’t.

“We’ll discuss boundaries in the morning. Today felt like an entire year.” She murmurs, her thumbs massaging the backs of his hand. Then, she’s dragging him to the bed with her. All of the apprehension is gone from her body, as if the conversation finally gave her the closure she needed to know he wouldn’t touch her. Or perhaps she thinks he doesn’t want to? She would be wrong, but if it brings her peace, he won’t correct the assumption.

Aurora falls asleep with her head resting on his chest, her legs wrapped around his left leg, humming a lullaby. Bruce wishes he could stay, but the city calls to him, the bright light of the bat signal visible from the window. He presses a kiss to her temple, untangling himself from her, and walks to the door. He stops there, glances behind him to make sure she’s still asleep, and feels himself smile at how peaceful she looks.  

Bruce leaves all thoughts of her behind once he exits the room, keeping them locked safely inside it. 

He has a job to do.  

[riewritten]

heavy rant ahead. proceed with caution.

you see, over the weekend i was faced with the fact that my mother might not be getting well anytime soon because her pain is just worsening day by day, that maybe she'll be staying that way for the rest of her life and cancer might take her away from us soon.

i was able to persist throughout the week or so i thought. on MONDAY, i was able to attend a meeting for one of my side jobs. i went to my full-time work right after. i chose to avoid social media because it was full of my batchmates' profile picture updates with their toga (and unlike them, i'm here, seemingly about to build my own school of pity because i am left behind, juggling from job to job with my academically delayed & financially constrained ass). the next day was set to be a whole day meeting at work, so i spent that monday night at my work residence. lo and behold, i couldn't stop throwing up because of anxiety (which was quite uncalled for, given that i believed i was fine throughout the day).

i wasn't able to get up at TUESDAY morning for the first half of the meeting. my colleague kept checking on me during break as i sleep. when afternoon came, just when the meeting was about to end, i noticed my hand bruised by long and deep scratches. i ended up doing it too hard again without noticing. the wounds were long and thick, and it appeared as though i did it intentionally with a knife. i am to settle the succeeding days wearing long sleeves. when evening came, people from the house asked me for money because our 5 year old dog seemed to not feel very well. i sent them my last bits of money, and eventually traveled back home due to worry.

by WEDNESDAY morning, i was rattled awake by my older sister calling my name while crying. lying at our bedroom floor was our dog. "please, let us rush her to the vet again. it's faint, but i can still feel her heartbeat," she wept. i tried to follow through, only to realize that it might be too late for us. i gave her a hug and told her to let it be, for we wouldn't be able to do anything anymore.

i felt numb all day long. i watched my sisters weep for multiple times. i slept and woke up feeling nothing.

i feel guilty for not crying because i was rattled by another apprehension, that perhaps our dog's death was some sort of simulation, that i am about to witness my sister desperately shake a cadaver again in hopes that it would move, but when that time comes, it would be our mother's and not of another pet.

i tweeted about asking god—that if they were real, i beg them to not go for beings who do not want to die yet. they could go for me, i hope they would, for every night i wish i would be relieved from this narrative by dying in my sleep. my colleague eventually replied by this:

it made me smile, but despite everything, i don't think i would be genuinely happy for a straight hour even if the deity who unleashed hell upon me would be shot dead in front of me. hell, i would even wish for the bullet to pierce right through my head instead.

i am so tired. i don't think my character muse, or any coping strategies for that matter, would be enough for this. it is not getting better at all.

[helen-high-water]

Here's part 2 of my sandman fic "graveside chrysanthemums",I tried something I haven't done with my writing before,hope you enjoy it.

For part 1 ,go here.

You were still in the dark place, still suspended in the middle of the ocean, still struggling to breathe.

You weren't sure how much time had passed, perhaps time simply did not exist in the dark place.

You had become a statue, of humiliation,of despair,of loneliness,a testament to your own failings.

There was a thought that seemed to repeat itself in your mind everytime you struggled to move.

"Perhaps it would be better if I stayed here"

You would shake it off,not always,but most times, otherwise you would sit in it,like a blanket of numbness covering you, something about the idea of giving up was so tempting.

But you couldn't allow yourself to give up,you had plenty of things to do,dreams to weave and nightmares to create,etcetera. So you continued to struggle.

Just as you were about to stop struggling to let yourself rest,to relax,even though there was no such thing in this place,you saw a light.

Well,maybe calling it a light would be inaccurate,it was a spark,in the choking darkness of this ocean,it barely registered.

It was yellow,not like lemons,yellow like a sun,it floated towards you, bobbing up and down in the air.

Then it was a butterfly,with golden wings marked with blue circles like eyes,eyes that looked on with no clear emotion,like stained glass,the kind one would see in a church perhaps, shinning as the sun blasted it's rays behind them.

It drifted about, landing on your pointer finger as it's final destination,then it's light extended to form a bubble around your body.

Suddenly you could breath again,even though you did not have the capacity to breath as a human does, you dropped to your knees , heaving on the floor that had come to exist beneath you, your body felt warmth,and you looked up at the butterfly.

It was no longer a butterfly, instead, there was I.

Wings like that of the bug itself mounted themselves on my back,a yellow cloak covered my entire body, extending towards the floor,and matching the wings in thier color at the top,but getting more and more orange as you went down,like a sunset.

My hands were deep in thier long sleeves,and I wore a mask with carvings of closed eyes,black lines on a white background,it covered the entirety of my face,with a white hood that obscured the rest of my head,a necklace of golden chains that ended with a small glass orb hanged from my neck,the orb contained an iridescent crystal.

Before you could gather yourself enough to speak,I said,slightly amused,"my my,what have you gotten yourself into?"

The sound didn't come from me in the way sound travels from someone's vocal cords to the ears of the receiver,it was more like a phone call directly to the soul.

It surprised you for a moment,I continued "you shouldn't try to speak just yet"

"Just breathe,we have plenty of time for any questions--I'm guessing a lot of them--you may have"with this ,I conjured chairs by raising my left hand.

Two simple wooden chairs manifested inside the bubble,I took one,and you climbed on the other.

"This place sure looks welcoming" I announced sarcastically.

"Who are you?" You asked, still a bit breathless,with an aggression that was not entirely uncalled for,but that you didn't necessarily mean either.

"No one important really" I answered with a laugh" but I suppose if you require a name,you may call me...." I stopped as though in thought.

"Lady butterfly" I suddenly exclaimed"has a nice ring to it ,no?"

You seemed to be suspicious of this,but also,you couldn't exactly tell who I was anyway, my voice gave nothing away,I might as well have been a talking set of clothes to you.

There were a lot of questions going through your mind,but you blurted out "where am I?and how did you enter my realm?I cannot sense your presence."

I put my leg,or whatever appendage it was,over the other,and did the same with my hands, though it looked as though I just put one sleeve on top of the other,I then said"the answer of the second question is pretty simple,I just walked in"

This answer immensely confused you and cleared up absolutely nothing,but you had decided that getting out of the prison you were in was the more pressing matter right now.

"As for the first question...." I chuckled,the sound was starting to irritate you.

"Why,king of dreams,you already know the answer" I raised my hands by my sides.

"Currently,we are,or rather you are to be more precise, inside your heart" I added.

"The dreaming is you,and you are the dreaming"I explained the obvious to you"this place is in your heart,or rather the part that holds your pain,your sorrows,past wounds and future worries,you know,the whole shebang"

You,king of dreams, son of time and night,weaver of shadows,you who held galaxies in your eyes, did in fact know,you didn't want to admit that the restlessness you felt reside in you was in any way related to this,for it would be a sign of weakness unbefitting of a creature of the endless,your words,or rather your thoughts, not mine.

Next came another set of enticing questions,you were oddly good at asking questions,or I suppose your mannerisms made people want to answer your questions,even if the questions were unimportant.

"Why are you here then?do you hold any ill will for me,or the dreaming?"you breathed, despite the shivering of your body,your voice was almost entirely undisturbed, almost"I can't imagine you came here for sightseeing"

"I won't patronize you with jokes,dream prince" I moved my sleeves around to gesture as I spoke,like a sentient carpet"well,I will. but at a later time perhaps,this place is rather beautiful though,in a sombre kind of way"

"The reason I came here, however" I uttered "is simply to keep you company!" I chuckled again,this time the sound made you want to throw me into the abyss"I shall be your guard through this unfamiliar place"

"I presumed you would keep your jesting for later" you hissed "as per your own words"

"Oh but lord Morpheus,I joke not!" I was not sure whether the phrase was actually correct,but I never cared for semantics, regardless my point had been made.

"You must excuse me for not being overly enthused about that" you said sarcastically.

"Listen, I'll only stay by your side but a few moments compared to the countless years of your very eventful life"I answered "will you grant me this honor?to be in your presence?"

"It is not as though I have much choice,it seems" and you glared at me!quite ferociously, might I add,your eyes were stars now,but as you were not entirely up to being threatening they returned back to a more human-like shape quickly after.

"Yes,I suppose not" how does one deal with a who knows how old baby,I asked myself this question while thinking about how to approach you,I didn't know the answer but teasing you was fun.

You did something that surprised me,you jolted up from your seat and reached for my mask,I didn't stop you because it was pointless to do so,you yanked my mask off in one flowing motion,and well,you didn't like what you saw.

My mask clanked on the ground,or the floor,or whatever it was,and in it's place was your face.

Or rather,your reflection,it was a mirror,my face is a mirror,I didn't feel like explaining and your reaction was hilarious.

You stood there,shocked,"Well that was just rude" I picked up my mask , flung it over my face,and continued talking as though you didn't do the equivalent of ripping my face off"if you wanted to see what was under my mask you could've just asked" I complained"tsk tsk, always so unnecessarily dramatic"

You didn't hiss this time,you just wondered if maybe you had gone insane,what would it mean for the manifestation of dreams to go insane?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a bit of dissonance as Hob focused his gaze on his surroundings,they slowly went from the usual blurry dreamscape to a much clearer state, everything came into focus and he found himself standing before the entrance to a great castle,so big it was that his neck was starting to hurt as he tried to see the top.

He felt something in his hand,the same gem that Matthew had given him,that cleared up any doubts about where he was.

The door that was so much taller and wider than he was opened with a loud creak,and behind it was a woman with dark skin and pointy ears,her expression was rather grim,but held back by a professional face, throughout the years Hob had seen many different professional faces, but he hadn't seen one so grim.

Lucienne was dressed in fancy clothing ,which made Hob feel rather underdressed for the occasion considering he was still in his pyjamas.

"Greetings,Mister Hob Gadling I presume?" she asked,voice even and collected.

"Yes" he answered "hope I'm not intruding.....I wanna say.... Luciana?"

"Lucienne sir,but we've more important matters to discuss,come"she gestured for him to follow her. leading him through a long empty corridor,followed by a short empty corridor,then a balcony,after that was a room full of birds, mainly corvids,and lastly they made it to the throne room.

Hob was not sure what to expect of Dream's castle,but he certainly didn't expect it to be so...all over the place,but then again dreams and nightmares are all over the place.

The throne room was as majestic as most throne rooms, certainly Hob would've loved to look around if it wasn't for the person standing at the foot of the stairs leading up to the seat,and the raven on her shoulder, immediately catching his attention.

"Why do you think he didn't tell us about this?"he heard her ask the bird.

"I don't know ma'am, I haven't been with him for long but god he can be stubborn" the raven answered.

"He sure can"sighed the lady,with a bit of fondness and a lot of worry.

Hob moved forward,the lady looked up and noticed him,she had a kind face,one twisted in worry,but a kind one nonetheless.

"Hob Gadling?" She asked" Nice meeting you , again, though I don't know if you remember me"

Something sparked in his memory and he recalled the day he met Dream for the first time,there was a woman with him at the time,he could barely recognize her considering the amount of time that passed and the huge change in clothes.

After a moment of befuddlement ,he answered her "you're the one who was with Dream all those years ago!"

"so you do remember!" she laughed"yes that was indeed me, I'm Death of the endless,Dream's sister"

Hob thought most gods were dramatic about introducing themselves,but perhaps it was just his drama queen of a companion,who didn't give him a name for hundred of years, regardless he was also sort of feeling a bit awkward meeting the literal grim reaper because of the whole,you know, refusing to die thing.

"I'd rather we met under better circumstances,I heard some wonderful things about you,but desperate times call for desperate measures" she explained.

Lucienne stepped in to carry on with expounding " Lord Dream has been trapped somewhere,I know not how to describe the place,but he has been in there for a few hours, I'm doing my best to keep things under control from this side"

"Trapped?how did that happen?" Hob wondered,and worry bubbled inside him,looks like that's a no on the party,also his thoughts drifted towards the Burgess incident,that made matters worse.

"No idea" Matthew chimed in to reply.

After a moment of silence, Hob said"Not that I don't want to help dream" he rubbed his neck ,a bit nervous about everything that's happening "but what can I do? I'm just a random guy, I'm not some god or deity or whatever" the whatevers of the universe were insulted by this.

"That you are,and that is what we need" explained Death,she smiled a pained smile"I'd go help him myself but,see the thing is with Dream is that if I were to help him, he'd take it upon himself to return the favor,and I don't want him to think that he owes me, that'll only drive him further away"

"The creatures of the dreaming all can't go there without getting corrupted"Lucienne added.

"And the endless are wierd about thier realms, something something not my realm not my problem " Matthew croaked "It's kind of an important rule I think " it was a lot more complicated than that but Hob had heard the jist of it when he asked dream about family dinners.

Death declared"Dream isn't that weak,he can make it out of there by himself eventually,but I'd rather we get him out as soon as possible"

"I'm still not sure why I'm a good candidate for this though"

"You're Dream's friend,Dream considers you both of equal footing" Death moved around as she spoke,she put her hands behind her back and faced Hob again "if you were to go ,he might be more willing to accept your help"

"I....okay ,I don't want him to get hurt, err..more hurt"

"I know I'm asking a lot here" Death's face lit up "but all you need to do is get him out of his own head" the way she said that made Hob tilt his head,it was the vocal equivalent of air quotes , without the air quotes.

"How do you know that?"he asked.

"That doesn't matter now"Death looked him in the eyes "Please bring my brother back"

Hob was set on helping Dream,and if he didn't Death might just grab him into the afterlife,he didn't think she'd do that but he wasn't entirely not scared of her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(sidenote,if you're curious about who the stranger that appeared before Dream, here's a post about them)

[nabitsun]

— ABOUT A GIRL ꒰ ellie williams x reader ꒱

᭝ synopsis : there's a certain pedagogical problem in the way you tutor. no worries ! your neighbor will help u solve that.

᭝ tags : [fluff & crack !] [smut] ellie sub ➔ dom . lots of talking ! ellie's kinda dorky, ⚠︎ math, brief mention of fighting, oral sex, dirty talk ( ellie's kinda mean when on top >< ), fingering, scissoring LOL, mh teasing & wet homosexual shit.

᭝ wc : 10.3 K

a/n : this is atrociously horny of me i'm (not) sorry.

As you sit there knees joint when you flip yet another page of your book, your skirt raises with the light breeze of the outside, causing the need to hide from indiscreet eyes, your hand flatten the fabric immediately onto your lap. You murmur to yourself as you read along the lines of the paragraph you've been caught on for about half an hour, frowning with your eyes scanning through the words and their meaning. Another breeze menaces the page you're holding down with your thumb, as it undulates with the air.

Though, as much as the wind stimulated you enough in your mindless reading, another distraction soon provoked your senses, urging them to be on alert. The sound of a material crashing down the tarmac, not so loud but enough to hear all the gears shake and break with the hit. From the stairs of your alley where you sat, you raised your head promptly to shoot a glare at whoever decided to express their uncalled anger. You straightened your back, sitting taller to perceive a battered bike dead on the road with a girl walking forth and back next to it.

As much as your sight wasn't the best you didn't need a depicted picture of who was bullying their bike like a ragged doll. No one as chaotically unmanageable as Ellie Williams would do that.

You sighed as you watched her intently, you could hear her curse at the semblance of a vehicle on the ground, see her crouching down to dig her hands into the gears of the goopy chain, and get up once again to shake her hands, clearly frustrated. You shook your own head with a scoff for even laying your eyes upon the epitome of chaos itself, finding your reading much more interesting.

This time it wasn't a breeze that almost made you lose your page but the shadow of a 5,5 feet tall person standing right in front of you, making you indeed lose your page as your thumb grazed over the edge. You looked up to see Ellie in front of you, hair half up as she always wear it with a short sleeved shirt that was evidently stained with grease.

"Hey,"

"Hi,"

Not an additional greeting as she stood there, balancing on her feet with an awkward half teethed smile.

"Still reading?"

"Still cursing at the world?" you retorted as you finally closed your book, it's not like you'd go back at reading anytime soon, not when she's around. She sighed as she rubbed the tip of her fingers together, dark with grease.

"You saw the lil' incident?"

"Unfortunately I didn't, but I got to hear your personal thought about it," you smiled at her, referring to the insults that came out of her mouth.

"Hm, sorry about that," she huffs, bending her knees in a crouching stance at first as she rests her arms on her knees in a weird frog position just in front of you, making you frown slightly, "Can't fix my bike for whatever reason." she says as she finally sits on her butt, a stair down where you're placed.

"Have you tried handling it with care?"

"Hey, you know me, I care for my bike better than I would ever care for you."

You scoff at the remark, placing your hands down on your book as you smoothen the surface of it, "Good to know,"

"I'm joking," she soothed, her arms extended behind her as she weeded out a handful of grass directly off of your lawn, which she immediately dropped poorly after, "I stand by what I said though, you're still reading. I see you often with your book, or a pile of 'em. At the library, on your perron, sometimes even at the fuckin' cafe – where you're supposed to relax by the way."

You think about all the times you ever went to the cafe with books in hand but shake the thought away, you only shrug, "Very much so, s'interesting and relaxing for me."

"That's relaxing for you?" she points to the book on your lap, "I mean I would get it if we talked about some silly stories or space fiction but it's just work."

"It's psychology."

"Still related to your major, it's work." she yet grasps another handful of grass harshly.

"Then I enjoy my work, sure if I was in your place I wouldn't enjoy reading about.. physics." you sniffed, will all the distasteful expressions you can muster to plaster on your face.

"It's interesting." she echoed your word, throwing you a hard glance. You hummed with a nod, not denying the statement.

"But diabolically difficult."

"You're acing math class, it shouldn't be that bad for you."

"It's statistics Ellie, it's not hard."

She shrugs as she looks at her abandoned bike on the road, "Mh, whatever you say."

You shake your head as you open your book in hope to find the page you lost, flipping through the pages with your index and your thumb as you cross diverse subjects you've already read about ; cognitive psychology, the basics of long term memory and encoding strategies, thus the elaboration strategy, which increases the meaning of information through its link with semantics and so on. If the allegory of the lightbulb above your head was indeed concrete, it would be lightning up and dancing right now with spurts of ideas.

"I might be able to help with stats'."

"Oh do you, now." she redresses herself as she sits crossed-legged on the ground, grabbing a random rock to scrap it onto the stair, "I doubt it."

"It's all about the pedagogy, a different approach." you genuinely affirm. She grimaces but still waits for you to talk as she looks at you for a second time curiously, "What if I tutor you."

You don't think you've ever heard her laugh so expressively before and you've never thought you'd be so vexed by it either. You shut your book close as you get closer to her.

"What's so funny?"

"You call tutoring a different approach? It's just teaching without the actual diploma and capacities."

"It's not!" you protested, a frown much more apparent on your face, "We could try something different and I'll explain things to you in a less.. intellectual way."

The scratching of her rock against the ground comes to a halt at your words, "What'r you implying?"

You both stare a each other for some seconds before shaking your head as you wave her off, "Y'know what I mean."

"I don't know, it's not really my thing." she shrugs without adding any additional excuses though you'd be needing more than a mediocre one to drop the idea.

"It's free."

"Well, I hope it's free, I'm your neighbor and we're friends."

"I don't know about the latter, but sure." it's your turn to snatch the rock away from her grasp to throw it away a couple meters away from the both of you, near her bike. "I'll tell you what, you fix your bike, you go home. You don't fix your bike, you come study with me."

Ellie raises her brows as she stares at you, switching from your book to her own bike, "How much time do I have?"

"Mh, I have to get back inside in ten."

"Ten? fuck, seriously." she curses under her breath as she wastes not time in getting up, brushing her pants lazily though she might get even more goop on the fabric. You silently chuckle as you watch her run over the bike, crouch down beside it to play with the chain even more. You put both of your elbows on your book, your face dropping in the palms of your hands with the wind still teasing the edges of your skirt like it was prior.

It's after six minutes that Ellie gets up, putting the bike back on its wheels and throwing a leg over it to press down the pedal. Your face contorts in discontent, you sigh poorly as you watch the girl departs on her bike and she even cares to wink at you from afar, but it's not without plunging forward when her legs starts pedaling in the void – much to your pleasure – and that she hits the brakes five meters away from her original spot.

You get up calmly, knowing your scheme is secured even as the seconds passes and she technically still has a few more minutes to 'fix' the said bike. Nonetheless, she immediately crouches down to take a look at the unlaced chain once again. When you reach her side with your book held in both hands, you smile at her with genuine content much more than any kind of pompous pride.

"Tomorrow, 5.pm."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You had put more trust into your pedagogy than in Ellie and it might have been the only good thing you did for the past hour as six o'clock had sharply turned. It wasn't so much the lack of comprehension, that you could deal with, you've got a lot of patience – as much as it might be running on thin ice when in the presence of a certain person – but the thing you didn't take into account when you threw yourself in the pit of sedatives that is this strategy, was the lack of motivation and seriousness of your student.

You'd barely gone through the first page of the worksheet, and even less through the second exercise when Ellie had left your spare chair to go plop down on your plummy mattress. You were willing to endure some reluctance, but not complete disdain for the time you were giving her.

"How come your parents ain't here?"

"They're working."

She hums in thought, laying on your bed dressed in a tank top showing off her tattoo with a pair of jeans.

"They don't got a problem with you inviting someone over?"

"Oh they sure would have a problem with inviting you over." you scoff at the thought. Your parents aren't very fond of girls with a temper and tattoos and even more when they happen to live down the street.

"Me, huh. How come?"

"Hm, I don't know, just a feeling." you fake think sarcastically as you roll your eyes.

"Just a feeling," she repeats with a murmur as a sudden joint finds its way locked between her lips. She gets a lighter out of her jeans pocket and dares to press down the friction wheel with her thumb, causing the igniting flame to appear. She doesn't have time to light the joint as you throw your pen at her from across the room, earning then a cold glare.

"See, s'why they don't like you." you frown, getting up from your chair to join her.

"What they'd be doing if they saw me?" she asks, careless about the remark you've just made. You reach the edge of your bed, putting a knee down on the mattress to bend slightly and take the joint away from her reach – which she unexpectedly allows you to.

"You ask a lot of questions about my life but I don't see you being this interested with math." you quip back, putting the joint on the ledge of your window as you pinch it scrupulously with the tip of your fingers, out of distaste more than to truthfully care for it.

"We need to finish this." you reaffirm, beckoning to your desk. Ellie sighs as she drops the lighter on her belly, her free hand playing with it mindlessly whilst the other one is tucked behind her head for support.

"Your pedagogy sucks." she mumbles.

"It's not a me problem, you put zero effort into this. At least finish this exercise."

"It's not like I wanted to in the first place." she frowns, thumb gazing against the friction wheel a second time just to watch the flame dance in the void.

"Fine, let's end things right now. Door's open." you cross your arms and wait as you gave her the green light to go, but she doesn't move a muscle.

"We've been trying to for an entire hour." she ignores your invitation as she's back on the main topic.

"No, I have been trying to, all you did was to doodle on your worksheet and spin your pen." you grunt.

"I don't know, it's not really workin' for me pretty, told you it's not my thing."

You don't even realize that the simple word had such a soothing effect on you when you try to find a getaway from the situation, you don't even know if she did it on purpose and you might never come to any conclusion.

"How could I make you more focused then, what would you like?" you ask with your brows scrunched up in frustration. Ellie stops playing with her lighter, dropping it down on her stomach as she stares at you, face unreadable until she chuckles groggily.

"I don't know, I've got nothing in mind." she drops her gaze lower, shrugging to herself. You sit on your ankle down the edge of your bed eagerly.

"Oh you do now, why you laughing for?"

"You're so devoted to this I don't even know why, s'for your own gain? Wanna tell everyone you tried to make Ellie Williams pass her class?"

The smug expression on her face makes your own turn rapacious, you escape a scoff, "First of all, it's not entirely for my personal gain. Second of all, I will make you pass this class."

"Oh you will? 'kay, go ahead."

"It'd be easier if you'd sit on that chair."

She sighs once again as she pulls herself up on her elbows, "One exercise?"

"One exercise."

It doesn't take too much to convince her further, she slowly nods and pull herself entirely up.

"Alright, up we go."

Back on your respective chairs you were glad to instruct Ellie one more time about experimental method and the basics of it. No numbers or letters were involved for now and you might have been lying if you said you weren't afraid to see her depart as soon as she'd see the alienating inscriptions.

Ellie's upper body was completely supported by her elbows on the desk, head inclined forward with her eyes narrowed on the few scattered papers all over the surface, her gaze following your pen as it was pointing to the statement.

You kept seeing her nodding to everything you said, looking at you dead in the eyes to say she understood, but when you asked the next question about variables she was unable to answer.

"C'mon you've got a fifty-fifty chance of answering it right." you encourage her, head in the palm of your hand.

She sighs as she continues to spin her pen between her fingers, "... uh, dependent?"

She looks at you with so much uncertainty you don't even feel like telling her she got it all wrong, in vain though you share an apologetic smile.

"Look, the time here is the independent variable 'cause you're the one measuring it. You control the time you give to the participants and it will an have effect on their results."

"But you can't control the time."

"No okay, you don't control time by definition, but in this case of the study you do manipulate the time you give to each one of these people. You factually give them five minutes per laps."

"M'kay," she hums.

"You get it?"

"Yeah," she locks eyes with you but your face must be screaming with doubt as she continues, "No I do understand, but I just need some explanation, s'all."

You hit the tip of your pen down the worksheets repetitively in thought as you gauge her words, "Mh, okay. What about this one,"

She rolls her tongue against her inner cheeks, poking right through it as she leans again on your desk, however it's as if not a soul was inhabiting those eyes, head empty with yet a mouthful of words.

"Independent." her eyes sustain yours a little longer this time, yet through the glints of hope they bear you can still decipher the skepticism like crystal clear.

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?" she scoffs.

"Give me a reason,"

She shakes her head in disbelief, her back hits the back of the chair harshly as she crosses her arms over her chest, "Fifty-fifty chance." she utters with a sigh.

"Okay, besides the fact that you play the lottery to find the answer, it's still the right one. Now why is it.. Hm, okay if you have trouble with the terms dependent and independent, let's replace it with consequences and causes." you nod to yourself as you regain composure on your chair, "If I ask you, is the weight of the participants a cause or a consequence of the final results, what do you say."

"I mean, it depends–"

"No, no, don't try to validate the hypothesis yet. Technically, for this specific exercice and regarding what the researchers want to measure and the effect it will have, what do you think it is?"

She swivels left and right on the chair, a foot crossed while the other one hangs in the void, "That's a cause,"

"Good, perfect okay, then you replace that term with independent. You found the independent variable." you beam as you get closer to her.

"Could've said that from the beginning, it's easier." she grumbles, making you chuckle.

"Stop complaining, you've got the rest of it to train."

"You said one exercise?"

"Not my fault the exercise's got eight questions in it." you shrug with a smile.

Would you ever be subject to curses you're sure you'd be damned for the rest of your pitiful life with the look she's giving you as the tip of her tongue grazes against her teeth.

Spoiler alert, you didn't finish the eight questions. With the longing pressure of whines and pleads you stopped at the sixth, closing your book shut when Ellie practically jumped from her chair to get back on her feet. You had spent about two hours explaining and interrogating her on diverse things, which to your grand relief she mostly answered right despite the probabilities of a correct answer.

She'd made evident that she was terribly hungry, per say, and that she absolutely needed to head back home to get something in her stomach, but it's not without ten more minutes that she'd spent talking to you on your perron. For that matter, you've never really engaged in any real conversation regarding your life with her, she was your neighbor, and you'd shared the same high school with her but it remotely stopped right there.

You tried to reschedule the next tutoring session for the day after but she declined, saying she had lacrosse training at this hour for the next game, thus declaring your next class in three days.

You watched her as she walked beside her bike, evidently unable to hop on it or pedal of any sort. It's when your own stomach started to gurgle that you closed the door behind you, finally getting back in.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Three days and half an hour later you were giving up on the idea of even seeing Ellie. It's not like she could actually inform you of her delay, without your phone number, she might as well just bang on your door if she wants to communicate with you. But you were patient, you sat in your living room as you read the book you've been so entitled to for the past few days, sometimes your eyes wandered across the room, unfocusing from your reading to peek out of the window, in vain of seeing anyone.

You'd baked cookies in the afternoon in hope the sweet taste would in fact sugarcoat the plethora of work you'd have to put her through, but the more you thought about it, the more you resigned yourself to eating them on your own. Either it was a warning from the skies above for your gluttony or a normal reaction to the sudden banging on your front door, but you choked on your cookie. It's with watering eyes that you walked over to welcome the expected invitee, as you lightly tapped onto your chest for support.

May you both forgive one another for the look you give each other as your eyes meet with surprise. Legitimate reaction to be fair, as you look like you've just weeped, while she might have face planted the tarmac.

"You're alright?" she asks as she steps inside, a look of concern adorning her face.

"Yeah I just.. What happened to you face?"

She avoids your eyes, wetting her lips to say something but retracts, with a grunt she takes off her shoes and almost loses balance as she stumbles, "Lacrosse, took some hits." she only replies, scratching along her jaw below where the skin is reddened. You knit your eyebrows with worry, as you try to take a better look at the bumpy surface.

"That's why you're late?"

"M' late 'cause I don't have any bike anymore pretty, had to walk my way over here." she gives you the knowing eyes as she refreshes your memory, "anyways, let's get fucked by statistics." she responds wearily, she turns her face away from you, finding her way up your stairs without waiting for you as you're still planted in the hallway.

"The null hypothesis always states that the parameter is equal to the claimed value. You just identify the claim that you have to test– Ellie, what are you even doing." you sigh, watching the way her fingers diligently fold the corner of her worksheet where exercises linger printed on it.

"Origami."

You turn around in your chair to look straight at your window, pondering silently at if it would be better to throw yourself out of it or throw her out of it. In all calmness you swivel back to your original place, facing your desk as you take a deep breath.

"Mhm, it surely is the time and place to do that."

She chuckles as she continues her doings, "You're really good at tutoring. Acting exactly like my uptight teacher from tenth grade."

"Do not compare me to Miss Greenwald," you warn her, a slight pout formed on your face, "and what is this supposed to be?" you beckon to the crafted paper.

She throws you an inquisitive glance, as if the answer was pretty obvious, "A dinosaur,"

Your irritation deflects with curiosity for some fleeting seconds, you squint your eyes to get a better glance at the dented grainy paper, "Looks like an amputated frog."

"Yeah, i'd like to see you try." she raises her brows, eyes back on her origami to give it some stance, corning the edges and placing it on the desk in an attempt to make it stand on its own.

"What I would like to see you try is finishing this exercise." unfortunately for you, you're in first person witnessing the unleashing of all the audacity bottled up in one single person, right in front of you. She escapes a single scoff, as if she'd even have the right to. You roll your eyes in the back of your head in annoyance as you grunt, putting your elbows flat on your desk whilst you manage to massage your temples with the tip of your fingers.

"Why do you come here,"

It seems the single sentence wasn't transmitted into a question as you get no answer for your implicit inquiry. You lazily open your lids, seeing Ellie already watching you with her arms dropped to the side of her chair, balancing one nonchalantly. She raises her brows in question, a silent one. The tip of her fingers tap mechanically against the material of the chair, emitting a little engulfed sound. "No why do you actually still come here for. 'cause I'm damn well sure it's not to study by the looks of it, and not even to craft some stupid dinosaur because you can't even do that!" you exclaim with a crude laugh, mocking the way her origami sits awkwardly on the table.

"Gimme somethin' else to work for," she declares so lowly it's almost a murmur between her lips. Her eyes travel along your features, your face and down your very body, scanning every little details.

"Somethin' else to work for," you repeat to yourself, with your arms coming down to plop lazily on your thighs, head lowered in thoughts, "alright. If you answer these correctly, or at least put as much effort into it, I'll give you a reward."

"A reward, huh? What am I, a dog?" her left hand reaches for her opposite forearm, where her tattoo lingers planted, she grazes the skin forth and back a few times with her fingers, not even scratching it. You gulp down at the sight but shake the thoughts away.

"I wish you'd be as obedient as one." you scoff, shaking your head as your nails dig in the flesh of your crossed arms.

"Mh, 'kay missy. What you say goes."

You had no clue if the mention of a reward was the real reason Ellie aced the next questions, similar to a rat in a cage who preferred to press the button that would give her treats rather than an electric shock, thus she learned quickly from an upcoming reward. Or perhaps you could consider the hypothesis that she'd been studying for the last two days, but that was less certain considering the amount of entailment she'd been proving you.

You'd noticed overtime, the reddish mark on her cheekbone turn a lot darker, almost in an auburn smeared shade across her skin, blending down with her tanned and freckled skin, something your eyes didn't seem to want to break from it appeared. And she would see you, she would catch your glances, eyes faltering with worry anytime they lingered on her face.

It was past four in the afternoon, soon would it be turning five that your head became a little heavier, your movements and the way your pencil wouldn't be hovering above the paper but, slowly gliding along, showing the questions with lethargic mannerisms. If someone deserved to be tired it was certainly Ellie, and yet she still sat there, in a calming and dazing silence she would only break to get your approval when writing down her answers, still with hesitation and uncertainty. Her hand would occasionally skim past yours as it was flat against the work, just to show the statement of the exercises once again, to repeat the information over and over.

You couldn't deny your senses were clouded by your suffocating brain, much more because of her lasting presence beside you than math. Still it's as if the room was spinning with the same invading scent, minus the cookie dough that was still implanted up your nostrils, it was a familiar scent, a comforting one and yet so annoying, so persistent. You felt as if it was too much to bear upon you skin, too much to be around it, thus you put an end to it.

"Let's take a break, I need a drink." you lift your body up with the help of your hands pushing down the armrests, Ellie turns her head your way as she looks at you inquisitively.

"We're done?"

"Mhm, for now." you walk over your window in those little shorts, the fabric restraining against your skin as you climb on your bed, revealing a little more than you'd intend. Thus you open the window ajar, to let some fresh air invade the room. You hear a sharp inhale behind you, making you look over your shoulder as you're still kneeling on the soft mattress, and see Ellie's ankle resting on her own knee as she scratches the back of her neck.

"Where's my reward?" her tone is so low it almost makes you laugh, you shake your head as you get off your bed, back on your feet you point to where she's sitting.

"You stay here."

Your feet regain their dexterity as you trot out of your room not giving her the chance to say anything, your energy restored as if the new air has had an anabolic effect on you. As you tumble down the stairs, you think back to the afternoon you spent measuring, stirring and shaping the little balls of dough, just for you to end up eating them alone about an hour ago. With your parents' schedule, you were forced to cook for yourself most of the time, giving way to lonely, weary afternoons spent baking or reading. As silly as it may sound, you felt a certain excitement at the idea of being able to give the fruit of your boredom to someone other than yourself, especially if it was the neighbor across the street with whom you'd always exchanged heated discussions. While you're at it you open the fridge and grab a can of redbull – exclusively your dad's, but he'll never know – for your guest, and a lemonade for you.

The heels of your feet stomp against the squeaky carpet as you climb the stairs, a hand securing the cans against your chest and the other with the cookie plate balancing in the palm of your hand. You find Ellie in the same spot, eyes riveted on the floor with her chair swiveling left and right as she's so used to. Glancing up at you through her lashes, she rubs her chin with her index, head still low on your body.

"What is this," she whispers, more to herself and frowning in thought as she gets up to help you out of your drinks.

"Made cookies earlier, you're probably hungry after your game, and all that." you curve your lips upwards but your smile stops spreading along your face when Ellie chuckles with a gruff sound, her voice raspy as she heads towards your bed carelessly, her redbull in hand.

"You're driving me crazy," she scoffs, laying down on your bed with her back pressed up against your headboard, she settles the can on her belly, her index swiftly maneuvering as she pops the tab open in one-go.

She's too busy taking her first sip to notice your stunned expression, caused not only by her reaction but also the way she effortlessly opened her can.

"You.. you don't want any?"

"No I do, I do want some." she continues to chuckle to herself, you try to pay no mind though the reaction is starting to slightly upset you, she extend an arm in the void, beckoning a cookie with her fingers.

"Not on my bed, you're gonna leave crumbs everywhere. I know you're messy." you retract your arm to yourself as you put your own can beside her on the nightstand with your other hand. She drops her arm with a sigh, looking at you deadpan.

"Gimme the math book,"

Without saying a word on your behalf she reaches on her side to grab your lemonade, opening the can with both hands this time, and if it wasn't for her act of service you would have probably turned a deaf ear to her command. Consequently, you give her the book, which she quickly grabs to put it horizontally against her chest.

"Found a better use of it, didn't I?"

You roll your eyes at her comment, silently sitting down on the edge of your bed, towering over her by the way she's laying down. She takes a cookie from the plate and bites down immediately into it, the few crumbs escaping directly on the math book she's holding underneath; a silly sight. She moans in satisfaction, closing her eyes as she allows the sweet taste to spread over. You chuckle at her reaction.

"You're not eating any?"

"I might have to admit that I already ate some before you arrived, y'know during the thirty minutes you left me waiting." you shrug with a smile.

"Mh, fair." the silencing of your voices fills the room, you can only hear the biscuit breaking in half as she bites and chew into it. You drink your lemonade as you balance your foot over the edge. As much as you seem to be having a hard time at teaching Ellie, you don't mind the afternoon you spend with her. You actually appreciate them more than anything, specially because you've always sort of known her, wether it was from some spared glances from across the hallways in high school, or across the street down your neighborhood, until you began to eventually have small talks.

And despite what your parents would try to say about her, the way she acts, the way she talks and carry herself, you found all of that being what you liked most about her; she didn't give a single fuck to anyone.

"Hm, talkin' about it, I didn't have training today. Though I'm still hungry as fuck."

You almost choke on your drink for a second time – considering the cookie incident from earlier – as you make sense of what she's just said, "What do you mean you didn't go? Where'd you get that from then?" your head tilting to show the bruise on her cheek. She only shrugs mindlessly, finishing her cookie with a mouthful.

"Got into.. a little incident."

"Again?" you blurted as you sat better on your bed, getting closer to get a better look at the bruise which was definitely not caused by any kind of accidental hit.

"I know, a lot of pricks on these streets," she smirks, propping herself on her side.

"You can't be serious," you swat her hand away as she tries to reach for another cookie, earning a surprised look on her face, yet she complies to your denial and lay back down against your headboard, "You should learn to keep your hands to yourself."

"Not happening soon, he fuckin' asked for it." she takes another sip of her redbull. You wave her off, not wanting to hear the details of her altercation.

"Doesn't it hurt?"

She shakes her head right away, "It's fine, pretty. M'okay." her eyes sustain yours for longer than intended, you start to spin into the greenness of them, her eyelashes batting slowly at you, evenly peaceful as her breathing follows the same pace. Reluctantly you pull away, diverting your eyes.

"How much do your parents work?" she asks, a light tone coating her words despite her face turning darker, eyes still fixated on you.

"A lot." you grant her prior wish when you reach over to grab a cookie, pinching it between your thumb and your index, "enough for me to be alone most of the time."

She puts her drink away on the nightstand as she gets comfortable, arms crossed over her chest, "So with the possibility of doing absolutely whatever you want you choose.. studying."

"I'm doing it for myself."

"I'm not judging bub', I find that impressive s'all" she declared, eyes switching between your own and the cookie you were still holding. Without a second thought you guided it towards her mouth, slowly enough for her to smile at the sight. She tilted her head forward to meet your action midway, lids almost closed as she watched the biscuit being offered to her, mouth agape when her teeth sunk down into the dough. You watched the whole process without missing a single crumb, the buzzing in your head from earlier escalating progressively as it tries to find its way back to you. When her lips wraps fully around the piece of biscuit, it's only then that you feel her fingers lacing around your wrist, pulling it away from her gently.

You close your mouth as it was slightly parted and retrieve your hand back to you entirely, still watching the way her tongue glides over her top lip. She almost coos at you when she thanks you with the silkiest voice, one that actually takes you aback as you shift back on the mattress, leg crossing tighter under you.

"You're a nice girl y'know that?"

"Mh?"

"Putting so much effort for me" she coos, repositioning herself lower so her back can fully rest against your mattress, her arm goes resting behind her head to raise it.

Not to deny it, you know you're a nice girl. Maybe not the nicest around and surely not the nicest with her, but you do act in consequence when you see her, when she adresses you; you bake cookies for her, you help her with math and there's a multitude of other things you could do for her. You don't know why, factually. May it be that you think she deserves it? That you wanna be good to her despite the shit she wants to put you through?

"If I can help,"

"´s what I'm sayin', you have good intentions. Don't even know why you put yourself through tutorin' me with fucking math, i mean– what even is this? Do you just blindly apply formulas here and there without truly knowing why? I'm not gonna write something if I can't fully understand it, why people are so okay with this shit." she rambles with a concerned expression, seemingly upset with it and you can't help but laugh.

"It pains me to understand you as much as I thrive for it and yet I'm still puttin' up with your ass. How about that?" you sip on your lemonade with a faint smile as you put the cookie she bit into back on the plate.

"Cut the bullshit, you like having me here." she says in a breathy voice, above a whisper.

"Is that so?"

"Mhm, why else you would have baked fuckin' cookies for then?"

You shake your head slowly, "You didn't even appreciate it.." you mumble, recalling the way she laughed at you.

"Fuck you're talking about?" she frowns.

"Why'd you laugh when I came in,"

She nibbles on her lower lip for a second, her eyes squinting with a smile spreading anew on her face, "I didn't think this was the reward, 's all. I loved the intention, pretty."

"Isn't it rewarding enough for you?" you ask, voice smooth.

"Perfect." she answers, though the fluttering of her lashes would have have an effect on you, you can recognize when she's fucking with you and when she's not. You narrow your eyes at her, crossing your arms.

"Now you cut the crap, what do you want?"

"I don't want anything," she scoffs, eyes shifting between your desk and yourself.

"Liar, what are you thinking about,"

"Alright, let's go back to Spearman and his fuckin' correlation." she props herself up, sitting on your bed in an attempt to get out of it but before she can escape you put your index flat atop of her chest, pushing her back down, you straddle her lap to cage her in and sit still. "Girl.." she falls back on her elbows, looking up at you with a faint look of consternation.

"What. do. you want." you repeat as you lean in, a glint in your eyes that she has a hard time to follow. Without saying a word, and ever so carefully she get a hold of you lemonade can in your hand, wrap her fingers around it and steal it away from you to put it on the nightstand where her own drink is. With her eyes back on you, she opens her mouth hesitantly but nothing comes out of it.

"You never open it when you actually need to." your hands rests on each of your bare thighs as you back up from her, her own forearms are raised just as if she was about to reach for something but they stay still.

"Y'want me to?" she swallows painfully, her chest rising unevenly as your eyes lock.

You nod softly, "Said you wanted a reward right?"

"Shit, maybe you're not that full of good intentions." she breathes out, and if Ellie sure does have a problem with knowing when to open her mouth, she sure does not have a problem with knowing where to put her hands.

Propping herself up on one elbow once again without you pushing her back, she makes use of her other hand as her fingers come wrap around the back of your neck. With the pressure on your nape helping, you lean in to meet her face, a few inches away from her. Come first your noses, touching and brushing against each other, through your heavy lids you can definitely see her lips curve ever so slightly. As much as your eyes flutter close and rob you away from your sigh, you feel the soft flesh of her lips meet yours, a simple yet slow kiss. Then comes a second one, which gradually extend in time, her lips part wider against you as you feel them envelop your own.

Gentle and warm air blow against your cupid bow as she exhales through her nose. Your hands previously froze on your lap instinctively raise to cup both sides of her jaw, pulling her closer to you. The instant pull allows her to get fully sat on your bed with you still straddling her laps. You spine buzzes with chills when her fingers that once where on your nape slide around your neck, her thumb resting gently on it, occasionally grazing the skin. Her other hand finds your waist, keeping your core in place on top of her when the kisses intensify, you feel the tip of her tongue brush lightly past your bottom lip, testing the waters as it delves into the plush skin. You breath gets stuck in your throat at the feeling, warm and welcoming, both with her lips against yours than with the tip of her fingers tightly squeezing your waist.

Come to think about it though your mind is slowly turning into mush, it might be one good of a reason as to why your parents also wouldn't be to kin on the idea of having her around their house, and certainly near you. They wouldn't even think further than even holding hands with a girl oh no, but having one in your bed like that? You might as well prepare your baggage.

The usual low and guttural sounds Ellie makes when she curses, or grumble or sigh are now replaced with the prettiest serenade of tones, high pitched and uncontrolled, fragile and weak. Even the cussing now sounds like proses fresh out of a play, "fuck, that's pretty rewarding." she says out of breath, slightly detached from your lips, however still too close for your own good.

Oh silly girl that she is, the actual reward you're thinking about has your stomach flipping upside down, your fingers trembling in excitement and your panties sticking to your core. You chuckle, a gentle one yet very condescending despite the sweet tone. Your hands on both side of her face slide down, past her neck, leaving the skin to react immediately as you feel the tiniest bumps raising from the touch. They reach past her collarbone, apparently awaking her senses even more when you see two hardened buds poking through her white tank top. Her right hand once placed on your neck comes down to linger beneath your arm, holding it gently.

You explore every inch of her skin, every place that's been exposed to you by sight but restricted by touch, every curve from her face to her upper body, tracing the places you're allowed to. Your lips find her neck and she lets a tiny gasp past her lips, her hands rest on your head, slightly pressing down on your hair. It quickly becomes a cycle at licking the skin, peppering kisses on it, suckling on it til it becomes rosy, even reddish when you linger a little too much on the same spot. "g-god, watch that mouth–" she says with a raspy voice, head thrown back.

"We're gonna do something," you whisper between kisses, "Ever heard of the elaboration strategy?"

"shit, didn't know we were still studyin''," she pants, tilting her head on the side. You press forward, leaning your body against her as you force her down on her back to lay on the mattress.

"Mm, you're still in my room no? still tutoring."

"What you got in mind?" she knits her brows when you look up at her.

"Next time," you lay a kiss anew on her collarbone, wet and almost drippy as your mouth rocks its way down her body, you hands sliding on each side of her belly when you pull up her tank top, the edges retracting slightly onto her diaphragm, leaving you access to her stomach, "Next time you find yourself in math class, I want you to think about this," you pepper kisses on her belly as it heaves up and down with every touch.

"Yeah, might not be the only place I'm gonna be–.. thinking about it sweetheart," she softly says. You back up onto her, you face aligning with her belt when you flick her forearm.

"Hey–"

"It's so you can remember your formulas silly, m'serious."

"Y're fuckin' insane." she scoffs but her breath hisses when your hands find her waist, slowly sliding down until your grab the buckle of her belt.

"Where d'you think you're goin'?" she gasps, voice strangled.

"You don't want to?" big eyes looking at her, you loose the grip around her belt as you stare at her with growing embarrassment.

"Fuck, if i don't want to? I just don't want you to think you owe me shit, I assure you, the cookies were enough y'know." she says softly.

"I want to. I really do," you admit. She nods slowly laying back further against the mattress as she relaxes,

"Good, do what you gotta do, then."

You almost felt as if your heart was going to explode out of your rib cage, and honestly it still feels like it. With the pounding not only close to your chest but also in your ears, it's hardly a matter of time before you lose it completely. Your hands go back to their original place, this time more rapidly as your trembling fingers struggle to get the strap out of the buckle. She lifts her hips without a command when you slide her pants down, her legs kicking them off somewhere at the end of your bed or down on the floor.

Your eyes have a very hard time settling down with a steady focus, it's like you're going fucking ecstatic at the sight. Legs opened, the only thing you have to do is to dive in, and you waste no time in doing just that. You lay flat on your belly as you crawl poorly to her, hands wrapping around her thighs, you let your hand wander at the top of her panties, playing with the hem. You see the way she restrains, the way she breathes through her nose in an attempt to block the noises to come out of her mouth, the way her eyes – despite their somber shade – shine with the way you move your thumb against the fabric. It's like you're about to eat your favorite dessert and despite the comparison it might just be what's about to happen.

You take your time though, you're patient, right? Every minutes wasted by useless jabbering about origami or whatnot is now at use to be felt. You're gonna waste her time as much as she has wasted yours and it will take pleads and promises for you to surrender to alms.

Your lips travel up the length of her inner thigh, the left one to begin with, then the right one, each of them getting the same languishing treatment. Trading wet spots onto the sensitive skin, legs shivering from the touch but also from the apprehension of it all, in fact she doesn't miss to convey that feeling as her hips start bucking in the air, greedy for attention.

"You're taking your sweet time aren't you?"

Your mouth still on her skin, you look up at her to see her exposed neck, back of the head still pressed down onto your pillows as she doesn't even bother looking at you. "Patience is a virtue, y'should learn that too," you almost whisper, not having the energy to do the talking, and she escapes a breathy laugh in return.

You spread her legs a bit wider, your hand slips under her thigh as it looses the grip around it just to spare as much attention atop of her panties. To be clear you've never ever talked about sex with Ellie. Not even something as closely related to lust in fact. So naturally when your thumb caresses over wet patch on her black panties and the response is immediate, questions arise in your head. Has she even done that before? Are you the first? Or is she so fucking aroused that the jolt she receives is only a fair answer to your touch? It honestly gets you so intrigued, eager to see more.. you continue to circle around her clothed entrance, slowly as you press down intermittently on her hole.

The gasps she lets out are so feeble, you wonder if she's really restraining or if she just sounds as sweet as this. Taking the first option as a statement you might as well test your hypothesis right? Your thumb glides up, around her clitoral hood as it continues its dance around it, stimulating the nerves indirectly through her panties – that are getting really wet –, the pace quickens slightly, her stomach caves in, times to times, your fingers press down around her other thighs as you keep them opened for you. The moment you hear her moan feels like an electric shock to you, it just clicks in your head – and also confirms your hypothesis – that you want to do more to her, and fast.

You back off completely from her, getting on your knees you grab each sides of her panties and slide them down rapidly, you're afraid you ripped some of the fabric in the process but pay no mind as you now have in front of you the epitome of your fantasies. She closes her legs for an instant when you let the cotton clothe discarded on the floor, a thing that you quickly counter as you open them gently, caressing her knee.

"Jesus, that's what you hide under all that dry ass temper? A wet pussy?"

"Open that smart mouth of yours for maths, would you?" she whines, a hand pushing hair out of her face.

You chuckle as you watch her desperation, "Oh you're sure y'want that?", you play with her knees as you push them around lightly, deciding on what to do, or what to not do.

"Quit playin' around, girl."

Granting her wishes, you finally open her legs back, you center yourself in between as you position yourself, kneeling fully with your ass up in the air. Her breath accelerates considerably the more your face gets closer to her crotch.

You curse under your breath when your hands find her hips, pressing them down onto the mattress when you kiss her mound for the first time. If we're gonna talk about how she reacts when you first lap at her cunt, might as well do it thoroughly. The wetness of her pussy coats your tongue, both warm you wouldn't even decipher you'd got it on your tongue if it wasn't for the sweet taste. She moans at the first stripe, the second one, and even the third one. You knew she was a talker when she wanted to be bitchy but wouldn't have guessed she was a whiner when you were eating her pussy.

Spreading her folds by the sole help of your tongue is not easy when you want to completely fuck the hole mere millimeters away from you. Her left hand finds yours, clutching around your wrist as she lets futile whimpers out of her mouth, and you can't help but quicken your pace at the contact, just to see if she'd be able to bruise your wrist if you're going at it good enough.

You're very diligent in the way you do things, you care about the method, and you think it's more important than any outcome. Thus, you do take good care at eating her out. Your hot exhale hits her pussy through your nose as your mouth is way too busy suckling on her clit, your lips wrapping around the bud like a lollipop you'd wanna make disappear into your mouth. You love the process, the artistic freedom of it; the way you can spend two entire minutes on her clit then spread her thighs even wider as you delve your tongue inside of her, just the tip at first, you know, but then get a little too excited at the thought of putting your entire muscle in it as you thrust in and out.

"Shit, what the fuckk,"

Her voice is strangled, croaky and hoarse, you even think she's on the verge of shedding some tears when her belly starts to almost convulse, yet, it steadies itself once again. Your tongue flattens down her entire core, then starts getting more punctilious as the tip of it flicks relentlessly her clit, left and right repetitively. Despite your good hearing you're afraid to admit that your ears are too congested by the pumping of your blood in them, hearing only your heartbeat with the moans Ellie escapes, thus if it wasn't for your only presence in this house you'd be sure the other occupants would get to decipher some of the most absurd squelching sounds, atrociously wet of all sorts.

"Fuck, you're gon– y're gonna make me cum,"

"Mhm? wanna do that for me?" you whisper down her pussy, almost as if you were directly talking to it. She tries to answer but only poor puffs of air thrives to come out, she puts her forearm over her eyes, clenching her jaw and if you can be honest the sight only adds to the pulsing in your own pussy.

As you're devouring every part of her cunt your feel a tight pressure around both of your wrists this time, and it's when you feel a harsh tug that you look up at her. You don't even have time to realize she's pulling you up and on top of her by your arms that your tongue is still numb of all the motions and so is your brain, pussy-drunk and dozed off.

"Enough, take that shit off," she whines, her hands urgently try to take your shirt off, trembling and messy. You comply without much thoughts, still processing the abrupt change, your movements obey her own, raising your arms to facilitate the access.

"Good. Fuckin' good." she whispers to herself when she stares down at your bare upper body. And it's only now that your buzzing ears cease, that your cheeks and ears and even neck starts to heat up, feeling an undesirable chill travel down your spine as you regain consciousness of your current state. And maybe she saw it in your eyes, glossy and lost now as a fucked up smile spread along her lips, "Sorry I gotta do that but–"

You feel yourself flip over. In a second you're flat on your back, only in shorts. "–want you just right there."

She presses down on your body, now on top of you when she comes down to meet your lips, a long and passionate one. You grab both sides of her face as you pull her closer, resulting in her hips meeting yours. The kiss becomes messy, it's only a battle of tongues and teeth and lips, both escaping soft whines.

"Patience is a stupid thing." she scoffs when she pulls away, she's too kind to help you out of your shorts that are becoming a little too tight around you.

"'s probably why you can't get your work done." you pant, watching her tatted arm getting closer to your waist, rummaging up and down your soft skin.

"Yeah, I'm gonna get something done now, aren't I?" her eyes rest on you, her rhetorical question more like a silent promise delivered to you. Her hands cup your breasts as she massages them, groping almost disgustingly, her thumb grazes over your nipple slightly, making you shiver and arch your back at the new feeling.

"You're just wanting to be touched, right? 's been so lonely all alone here I bet you just want me to do that." she coos at you, almost sweetly but you know under all that tone is nothing but condescendence prying on your every reaction.

Maybe you do retract what you thought earlier; she is definitely a talker, and not the holiest of them all. That, you'll learn in a minute.

With your eyes semi-closed, you feel her hands exploring your body, up and down, left and right, and surprisingly enough.. inside. You shot your eyes open when you look down to attest the evident feeling; her hand is buried inside of your panties, slowly moving in and out of you and if the feeling wasn't enough to make you react, the sight sure is.

Your body is considerably fighting for its life. Gasps and moans escape your parted lips, legs are trying to close despite Ellie keeping them slightly open, eyes shutting firmly as the back of your hand rests on your eyes – to shy away from her stare –, and it only intensifies when she quickens the pace.

"Fuck, would you look at that, not so fuckin' noisy about work now, are you?" she breathes, you can hear the squelching of your cunt with every pump in and out of you, "That's what y'need to shut the fuck up? A finger inside of you to make you dumb?"

"el' p-please, I really need," you moan painfully, in vain of finishing your request you release the faintest sobbing sounds, becoming stimulated enough to release the tight knot in your belly.

"What is it, sweetheart? What is it that you need, tell me," she urges, finger slowing down but reaching the depth of your hole as it curls against your soft spot.

As if it wasn't self-explanatory enough, you needed to come. She knew it, you knew it. But what your pleads didn't extrapolate on was that you needed her, and she soon found out when you made it clear with the faintest whisper, barely vocal to be heard, "need you,"

Her movements stopped. And as if the girl on top of you wasn't feral enough you were afraid she'd completely lost it when she slid your panties off your legs, just like you did yourself a few times prior actually.

"What're y–"

"–That's what y'need? need me huh," she scoffed, breathless and totally clumsy with her fingers as they wrapped around your knee, pulling your right leg up until the calf rested on her shoulder, your other leg resting on the mattress. She straddled your resting leg, positioning herself on top of you like the missing piece of your puzzle, aligning her pussy with your own.

Like a symphony, you both filled the room with pleasant sounds again when she started to grind on you. Pussy lips flat against your own, up and down on your clit she started moving, resulting in both of your wetness to mingle.

You were not sure you weren't entirely dreaming, that you would wake up at any moment with your cheek flat against your workbook, ellie on your bed, taunting you about noises you'd made in your sleep. But she was really here, tall above you, eyes shut and lips captured between her teeth, grinding on you.

"Y're so frustratin', 's annoying." you say with a whimper, thinking about how she managed to bewitch you this way.

"Yeah? What else?"

She doesn't even look at you, her fingers pressing firmly down on your leg as she moves you against her, your hips buck into her to meet the movements, "Shut up," you shake your head lazily.

"Thought you wanted me to open it, there you go, y'have it." she coaxes, making you heat up in frustration, you grab her tatted arm lingering on your hip in need of more.

"What? y'dont like it when I talk to you? Want me to stop?" she moans, probably didn't want to let it slip out though the pleasure is getting too much to be able to hide it.

"N-no! Don't stop, don't stop." you cry out, panting when you feel your clit getting much more attention than you'd ever dream, Ellie being in the same case as you it seem as she feverishly rubs her pussy on you, cussing desperately.

"I think 's why your parents don't like me–" her legs shaking, fingers bruising your skin as they squeeze with force, "fuckin' scared their girl might wanna get fucked by the neighbor."

Her words make you spiral, your head spins compulsively when you try to retort something but unable to, you only curse with hushed whispers. The pool of warmth stuck in your belly floods all over your body, unanticipated your legs start shaking when your nails dig around her wrists, "el, i'm gonna cum–"

"Fuck!– I know baby, let it out," she mewls, when she feels her own legs starting to shake, cramping when you both get to release your arousal. She continues to move against you nonetheless, slowing down considerably as she almost only applies pressure on you. You feel her warmth dribbling down on you, she pats your leg still on her shoulder as she presses a kiss on the side. You both pant as your muscles relax, hot and sticky from the effort.

"You.. you still wanna tutor me, right?" she whispers, eyes low on you. You give her a gentle smile.

"Even more so."

©nabitsun !

thank u for reading :D

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Cupid's Curse

Chapter Five

Warnings: Obsessive behavior, Gods stuff

Taglist: @gingermous @mt2sssss @dev-angeline @graciexmarvel

A\N: if you know you know

Chapter Four | Chapter Six

Today is cleaning day! You only like cleaning day because you need every possible way to distract yourself from going out and seeking the beautiful man who— No! You are going to not think about him and remain focused on the task at hand.

First the kitchen. Gotta refill your fridge and maybe get some new dishes and pans.

Second, the living room. Dusty… You gaze down at your photo albums lovingly. They are the only proof connecting you to many past lovers.

Third, the bathroom. You ran out of your favorite body wash! You grumble hating having to later go do a full shopping.

Last, your room. Nothing is done, you took a nap.

A full day spent without going or thinking about he-who-shall-not-be-named!

*

You scream internally as you legitimately accidentally bump into someone, not just anyone now. The man from the gift shop. What a time for the fucking Fates to do their jobs! "Excuse me, sorry." You wave it off while keeping your head down. Today you wore whatever you had clean: the worst generic civilian outfit. Honestly, your stalking has let your personal chores slip up badly.

"Oh, you're that lady who comes into the museum a lot."

You shake your head as you grab what you need from the shelf. Nope, nope!

"It's okay, no worries. You don't have to be nervous talking to me… Okay, good chat."

You bolted like a bad out of hell fearing any second longer, you could smell him… His hair looked freshly cut and his face clean shaven which explains the cologne like smell. He's so tall, you know that but he's sloughing to hide it oh Gods oh Gods Furies take me.

"Do you need help?" That's a loaded question right now, "Here." You nervously take the box of coffee you were trying to reach before once more Steven, beloved Steven, seems to be going the same places you are too.

Seriously.

Fates, the fuckers, are putting him in every section you need to go.

"What a coincidence, haha!"

You frown, moving past him, your bare hand almost touching him. Dangerously close. Close enough to reignite that burning need. Mania will not let you escape your needs.

*

The next day. The day after. The following day after that. Weeks following after another. You couldn't help yourself, you needed to see him again. The pain and heat is unbearable, Aphrodite never held back when she was alive, and her heart wonders why its it's being forced to do so now.

Being normal is beyond you. No matter how many different ways you try to temper this divine heart.

The craving is horrible resulting in you going on the edge of doing something you might regret.

Retracking, rewriting, stalking once more the poor man.

Only, you are not hiding. Eros' cravings have you going on dates around the same area as Steven would be.

Those brown sweet eyes would land on you and whomever you are with that moment.

The museum you had a lady with you.

At a fountain he hangs around, you were with a person.

Then when he was going clothes shopping, you were with a man who looked old enough to be your father.

He would only catch you when passing, a glimpse and the scent of jasmine following.

The last time he sees you, J.B. is with him.

*

Celebration of the mural from Aphrodite's temple is being transported here and on full display.

You show up in a black dress, makeup, hair done; the opposite of what Steven has seen you before. The scent of jasmine is stronger than before. 

"There she is!" J.B. elbows Steven as he eyes you up and down, "She got to be the most beautiful bird you ever laid eyes on… Or in general." That jab was uncalled for. "Shit, she's coming this way: look busy!"

It's late in the evening and this side of the museum is getting ready to close up. The party is in the Greek section. Steven already did his closing prep!

"Hey—"

You ignore the boring loveless mortal, "Mr. Steven?" Soft spoken for a lady in black dress with long sleeves and gloves. A clutch purse in hand, gripped firmly as if your lifeline. Strange for how you are dressed, he thought you were confident. Wait, you can talk!?

"Hey," Both if you are awkward once the greetings are done with.

"So are you—" The bug tries to speak to you.

"I would like this, please!" Grabbing something near you. A sarcophagus shaped pencil case.

"Right, bag or no bag?"

J.B. cannot believe this, "Why not toss in your digits while you're at it."

"That would be nice… If you want, Mr.Steven?"

The guard is dying in the background while Steven and you exchange numbers, talking, you apologizing for being so shy before. Two anxious little beans trying to find the right words to say to each other. Cute! Minus, everything you did which Marc told him about (Steven doubts it but it was a bit odd seeing you everywhere he was given how big London is).

"Bye, Steven." Your voice is downright dreamy.

"Bro, what the fuck?"

Steven shrugs.

*

You go back to the part smiling with joy, your powers about to on overload so you take a moment to breathe to calm down before you accidentally start a damn public orgy. Dionysus would have loved that. You miss him sometimes, he was fun when drunk.

Entering the exhibit full of people who paid their way into here (you did too under an alias) to be the first to see the mural.

You made that mural.

It was your gift to Aphrodite when you asked her to give you the ability to love the world as she did.

"Bring back memories." You nod, "Surprised you haven't killed anyone for removing this from her temple." You hum as you drink your champagne. "Achilles says he hopes you are doing well."

Zagerus, son of Hades and Persephone, Aphrodite's favorite little godling. He checks up on you often given you are one of the last Olympians alive-ish.

Zag, as he allows you to call him, keeps you up to date with the surviving Greek Gods which are the Underworld ones and the single Olympian Persephone. You never count yourself because she gave you her heart but did not possess you (her desires got that covered too often). 

"Beautiful as ever by the by." Kissing your hand when he leaves. "If I may?" You allow him to kiss your bare skin for your power will not work on a God, unless they wish it. "See next time, cheers." Walking away. You appreciate his visits are short since he cannot be on the surface long.

You stare at the mural, Aphrodite specifically.

[nymphbnny]

perfect strangers

MINORS DNI // 18+

part one; part two; part three

genre: nsfw // fluff

pairings: jean kirschtein x female reader

word count: 4k

tags/warnings: slow burn (?), penetrative sex, dom jean, praising kink, slight breeding kink, oral sex (male receiving), fluff, confessions, cute jean (yes this needs a warning) cheesiness.

synopsis: you discover something jean has been keeping for himself and it ends up adding all the puzzle pieces together.

a.n: i don’t usually add songs for you to listen to while reading my work, but if you want to get in the mood stream Last Days Of Summer by Summer Walker. thank me later.

i would also like to add that this was meant to be a short series. i got other fan-fiction ideas and need to answer some of your requests. also, i know this part is kind of cheesy but jean is a big softie i can’t help it.

“Connie, what’s taking you so long?” I yelled from our porch, swirling my car keys around my finger. I heard more shuffling coming from our apartment before Connie rushed out, Jean following him, throwing his hoodie on, covering the shirt that was squeezing his muscles.

“I was looking for my dab pen,” he took a hit and blew the smoke in my face. I coughed pushing his shoulder making him miss the step and almost colliding with the ground. I snickered and walked past Jean to my car door before he grabbed my arm and pushed me back.

“Passenger seat babe.” he looked down at me with his lazy smile. I scoffed swatting his arm away, only to be lifted from the ground. “Jean you prick!” I yelled moving my legs around.

“And I’m the kid.” Connie laughed getting in the backseat, clearly not suspicious of his homie’s behavior. I sighed getting into the passenger seat and crossed my arms.

Jean mirrored my action, before cussing, as he felt squeezed by how tiny the space was. “Damn aren’t you a small thing?” he teased backing up the seat so he could feel more comfortable. He smacked my thigh making my eyes widen. I looked down to see him holding out his hand, motioning me to give him the keys. I rolled my eyes and slammed them down his hand. He chuckled before shaking his head and mumbled something underneath his breath.

He wrapped his arm around my seat, tilting his head backward, putting the car in reverse, and slowly drove back. He winked at me before he shifted gears. The car ride was basically Connie singing out loud to songs and Jean casually joining in, their interaction reminding me of Hitch and I.

After what happened last night, I texted the girls’ group chat and told them everything that happened and how Jean was suddenly becoming more and more possessive which was honestly uncalled for. If I want to overthink it, he was always somewhat flirtier with me than he was with any girl when we used to hang out back in the day. However, Sasha and Mikasa didn’t elaborate much into it as they told me to shrug it off, whilst Hitch was rather excited about me having a ‘sneaky link’.

And honestly, I’d be lying if I said he didn’t turn me on… I mean look at him. He’s at least 6 feet tall with sexy sleeve tattoos and a gorgeous mullet. His stubble fit him perfectly and his jaw was sharp. He looked so different and delicious.

“We’re here!” Connie shouted into my ear, shaking me off of my thoughts. Jean had already parked and was taking his seatbelt off. I followed his gesture and got out of the car, carefully closing the door behind me, Connie already outside taking a few hits of his dab pen. Our gaze locked, his lips instantly forming into a smile as he threw his arm around my shoulders and brought my head closer to his lips, kissing my temple. I grinned wrapping my hand around his torso and leaned my head on his shoulder.

I was lucky to have a brother like him. He always made sure I was okay and had everything I need and wanted. He was my support system and I couldn’t ask for more. “All good?” he mumbled, tilting his slightly towards Jean who was typing something on his phone, probably waiting for us before going into the diner.

I nodded and he squeezed my arm. “Come on, let’s go inside, the weather is chilly today.” Jean held the door open as we walked in and spotted an empty table. It was connected to a couch, two other chairs placed on the opposite side of the table.

I sat on the couch, my back relaxing into the soft red leather, before feeling the seat dip next to me. I tilted my head, only to be met with Jean’s cocky expression. Connie managed to sit on one of the chairs and tapped his fingers on the wooden table. “Y’all in the mood for burger and fries?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking starving,” Jean stated leaning back into his seat, spreading his legs. I nodded and took out my phone from my pocket setting it on the table. We called over for the waitress and placed our orders. “I forgot to ask you, how are your studies going y/n?” he added, dropping his head on his fist that rested against the wood and looked at me. Connie rested his elbows on the table, intrigued by the conversation.

“I’m doing good actually. I still have some things to get done and I’ll finally have some free time for myself. I honestly can’t wait until I’m done with this semester. It’s so tough and for what.” I whined, dropping my head against my crossed arms. His hand wrapped around my shoulder and pushed me towards him, my head colliding with his chest. Taken off guard, my arms wrapped around his torso. “Aw, come on you’ll do great, you got nothing to worry about.” he patted my head and gently stroked my hair. I blushed at his move, my stomach forming a knot. He was being extremely soft and gentle and I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't surprising.

“Here you go.” the waitress cheered placing our food down. She eyed Jean before averting her gaze from him as he pushed me closer to him, my head closer to his chest. I breathed into his cologne and managed to hear his heartbeat. Fast. His heart was beating so fucking fast.

Connie didn’t seem to mind as he laughed at his phone before turning it to Jean, showing him the picture of a half-naked model showing off her ass, a man who looked to be her boyfriend standing next to her. “Baldie I’m still here.” I scrunched my face. “Although the dude is kinda hot,” I added. Once the following words left my lips, Jean’s hand swiftly moved down my ass to grab it, making me slightly jump. I looked up to see him glaring down at me then looked back at Connie’s phone. Did this just happen?

“Doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” He cocked his eyebrow making Connie roll his eyes. “Man you used to like it when I showed you pictures like that." he shook his head locking his phone. He stayed silent for a few seconds before pointing at Jean with a big grin. "Oh my god, you are seeing someone!” he whispered.

I removed myself from Jean’s grasp and adjusted my clothes as I dived into my food, enjoying the warm feeling down my throat. “Nah dude, although I must admit that I've been thinking nonstop about someone lately,” he confessed taking a bite of his burger, Connie doing vulgar movements with his hands before he did the same.

“Jesus Connie,” I whined throwing a fried potato at him. “We’re eating.”

“Um, excuse me?” He scoffed as Jean laughed, muttering a small 'here we go', obviously aware of what my brother was about to say next. “The Jean Kirschtein I know doesn’t catch feelings. This dude is a damn sex machine. Which I can relate to but you know what I’m saying." he raised his hands up. "Now tell me, who got you so wrapped around their fingers you can’t even flirt with other women now?” He paused before adding, “ And don’t think I forgot how you pushed off that girl who tried to grind on you two days ago at the club.” I frowned, all of this not making any sense to me. How could he be sleeping with me but seeing someone else at the same time?

I felt sick, my fingers dropping the sauce I was about to pour on my fries as I excused myself to the bathroom. I made my way into the small area and looked at my reflection. I felt dirty. I felt used. Was I going to wreck a whole relationship? Or whatever he calls it.

The door swung open minutes after, revealing Jean. He had a serious expression on his face as he approached me, my ass now pressed against the sink, his tall frame towering me.

“Why’d you leave?” he questioned moving my hair from my face, cupping my cheeks. “I wanted to wash my hands,” I replied trying to free myself from his grasp but miserably failed. I frowned as I tried to push him away again, but his hands grabbed my wrists holding them down. “I don’t believe you, I think you got jealous,” he smirked, his lips inches away from mine. I glared at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction he was seeking.

“Jean let me go. Someone might walk in and Connie is waiting for us outside, also, the food won’t stay hot for long and I want to-“

“I was talking about you silly.” he interrupted me, his thumb now rubbing my bottom lip. “You’re so fucking gorgeous it’s unreal,” he mumbled. “Can I kiss you?”

What was happening… I stared into his eyes that were focusing on my lips. Could he be telling the truth? What if he just wants to get in my- oh wait, he already did… Fuck that was so overwhelming.

“Jean I don’t think it’s a good idea-“

“Yes or no?” I thought for a moment before softly nodding. “I need to hear it.”

“I want you to kiss me…” I whispered almost as if I didn’t want anyone to hear me, including him. I’ve always felt different around Jean and I never knew why, at least until now. He smiled lifting my head up with his finger under my chin, his lips resting against mine gently. My hands gripped onto his hoodie, kissing him with much passion.

I felt safe. I felt good. I felt content.

“You got my heart working overtime, y/n.” he confessed. I wasn’t able to process everything as it all felt like a fever dream. What if I just wake up and it turns out to be a dream. Did he just confess that he likes me in a diner’s restroom? My heart was beating so fast, my thoughts furiously rushing through my brain.

After Jean left to study in France, we never kept in touch. It is true that we used to be friends because of his friendship with Connie and it always felt different from my other friendships with other men like Eren or Reiner, but the distance and the lack of communication turned us into strangers and killed the ‘connection’ that was bonding us. I thought it was just a tiny teenage crush, but ever since he came back, everything returned to the way it used to be.

“Connie is probably getting worried about me.” I said making him let go of my grasp, his eyes still holding the same expression as before. I made my way out of the restrooms and slid my hands into my pockets. “Hey, I was about to follow you, you good?”

“Absolutely.” I smiled at him and sat back down taking small bites of my food.

“Y/n, you know you can talk to me about anything right?” he took a sip of his soda looking at me worryingly. “Of course, I’m fine really.” I reached out to squeeze his hand. A few minutes went by and Jean was back on the table with us. We jumped from a conversation to another, casually laughing as we brought back the old days.

Connie proposed to drive back and we didn’t mind since we both fell full from the food. Jean sat in the passenger seat as I lead down on the backseat, texting the girls every single detail of what happened today. It didn’t take them long to start bombarding me with replies.

‘Holy fuck he said what now? He’s fucking WHIPPED.’

‘I did hear him saying something about a girl when we hung out with Connie four days ago but I would have never thought that it would be about you…’

Seriously Sasha? I sighed and locked my phone dropping it on my chest. It didn’t take us long to arrive at the apartment we were now sharing with him.

***

I dropped on my bed, stripped down naked as my blanket was the only material covering me. I thought about what Jean told me back in that diner. I sighed closing my eyes. As I was almost about to fall asleep, my phone chimed on my nightstand.

I reached out to grab it, the message showing on my lock-screen making me open wildly my eyes.

-jean

you up? if you are, can i come into ur room?

I hesitated, my fingers hovering over my keyboard, occasionally typing something then deleting it.

-me

why? wassup?

It didn’t take him long to text me back.

-jean

i can’t sleep and i want to talk to you

I sighed typing a simple ‘okay’ and got up to put a shirt on. I heard a light knock on my door as I slid on the fabric, my hand reaching out to turn the doorknob.

“Hi,” I stepped aside, indicating him to come in before carefully closing the door. He sat on my bed and tapped on the mattress. I sat next to him and waited for him to talk about whatever he’s been wanting to get off his chest.

“About what I said earlier, uhm,” he cleared his throat.

“If you’re here to say that you didn’t mean it, you could have said it over text.” I assumed raising my eyebrow. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened to me and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with any bullshit, especially after getting my feelings mixed up. If he was about to mess around, I should do the same and ignore whatever I was feeling, hoping it would fade away over time.

“No, why would I do that?” he frowned and looked at me weirdly. Oh well, spoke too soon I guess. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t make you uncomfortable. Listen y/n,” he paused searching for the words. “I don’t want you to think I’m doing this to get laid. We made an agreement and if I just wanted to have sex with you I wouldn’t have said anything about well, liking you.”

I stayed silent waiting for him to finish. The moonlight was the only source of light in the room as it peeked through my window. It was quite peaceful. “I think, no, I know I’ve liked you for a while. I never acted on it because your brother once threatened me jokingly about messing me up if I hurt you, and regarding the person I used to be, I would have most probably ended up hurting you and because of that, I decided to sleep on whatever I was feeling and hoped I'd move on from it. But holy fuck you and grew into such a smart and beautiful woman, I couldn’t help but let my feelings for you emerge again.” He cupped my cheek with his hand bringing me closer.

Fucking hell someone pinch me right now, I must be dreaming.

“However if you don’t like me back, or don’t want to hook up with me anymore, I’d totally understand.” I stared at him as I felt like I was looking at a different person. Now I get why Connie was so surprised when he heard Jean talking like that back at the diner. That wasn’t the Jean I was used to, or at least the Jean he became when he left for college. I wasn’t familiar with this new character development if I might call it.

“Why… why are you telling me all of this now?” I whispered, shifting in my seat to sit closer to him, our knees slightly brushing against each other. He brought his hand around the nape of my neck and pulled me closer to him. “You got my mind going crazy.” and with that, I pressed my lips against his, instantly feeling his lips kiss me back.

I straddled his lap and slid my tongue between his lips, our kiss sloppy and slow. His hands moved down to grip my ass, pushing me further to him, my bare cunt brushing against the soft fabric of his shorts. A moan escaped my lips as he gripped the hem of my shirt, lifting it, my nipples exposed to the chilly air. "Wait..." I pulled away and rested my hands on his chest. "We're gonna have to tell Connie."

He smiled and reached out to kiss me again. "First thing tomorrow. I don't think your brother is that oblivious anyway." he chuckled and squeezed my hips. I laughed, bringing his face closer to mine kissing him gently.

Our make-out session became more urgent ad rushed. Jean lied back, his hands resting on my waist as I took off my shirt. His hands reached out to grab my breast, fondling it with his big hand. My hips moved against him, the feeling of wanting to be filled by him becoming unshakeable. Removing myself off his hips, I crawled down and pulled down his sweats along with his briefs, his erection slapping against his stomach. I smirked at him as I began pumping his length, soft groans escaping his lips. I swirled my tongue over his tip and slit before sliding him down my throat, coating him with my spit. "Shit," his hips bucked forward, his cock going deeper down my throat. I started bobbing my head, my tongue running over his underside, feeling the pulsation of his prominent vein. Our eyes locked, his mouth agape and his chest slightly rising from his deep breathing. His hand fell on his eyes as he threw his head back, his fat cock now throbbing.

“Y/n, ah, fuck-“ he hissed grabbing a fistful of my hair and guided my head. I knew he was close and it made me wet as well. My fingers were already rubbing circles on my sensitive bud, my climax as close as his. I removed his dick from my mouth and straddled his lap. I aligned him to my entrance and slowly sunk onto him, sighs leaving both of our lips.

He felt insanely deep within me, his size stretching perfectly. I rested my hands on his chest as I ground on him, his hand lacing around my neck to bring me closer to him, his lips capturing mine in a passionate kiss. His tongue slipped in my mouth as his hand made their way to my ass, squeezing my cheeks and moving me upwards. I moaned into his mouth, my nipples brushing against his chest. I sat back up, my hands prompted back on his chest as I bounced my ass on him.

“Ride my cock baby just like that.” he moaned out. We were both already close to our orgasm, the sensitivity sending us off the edge. “You ride me so good, but-“ he sat up pushing me off him. “I want to fuck it in you,” he smirked pulling me off the bed and walking me to the wall, my back pressed against it. He wrapped his arms underneath my thighs and lifted me up, my legs snaking around him.

“Now stay quiet while I stuff you eh?” he breathed, pushing his tip inside me before thrusting his hips forward, almost hitting my cervix. My face hid in the crook of his neck, doing my best to silence my moans. My back moved against the cold wall, his whimpers and moans growing louder in my ear.

I shut my eyes close when he began rolling his hips faster, my orgasm rushing through my body. “Jean…” I whimpered tugging on his hair, my heels digging in his back. My arm was wrapped underneath his, my fingers scratching his back. I clenched around him making him hiss and fuck me harder, indicating that he was also close to reaching his climax.

“You wanna come with me?” I nodded staring at him with half-lidded eyes. “Yeah…” I mumbled out, biting down on my lower lip to keep quiet. “Yeah?” he mocked with a smirk before he started kissing my neck, occasionally leaving small bites next to my collarbone.

I wrapped my arms tighter around him, my thighs shaking as my orgasm ripped through me. He quickly followed ropes of cum shooting inside me. He whimpered, stroking himself a little bit more before pulling out and carefully putting me down. As soon as my feet touched the floor, his semen began leaking out of my opening down my leg.

“Well shit better clean that.” he ran his fingers up my legs before pushing his cum back in me making me gasp. “You’re good now,” he smirked before lifting me off again, this time in bridal style as he walked me to the bed, carefully putting me down. “I would’ve loved to shower with you,” he stroked my cheek, his body hovering over me. “But I don’t want your brother walking in on us like that. At least not before I tell him everything.” he poked my nose before kissing my forehead.

I nodded my head, smiling at him. “I like you so fucking much,” he admitted once again, this time his lips kissing mine.

“I like you too.” he cocked an eyebrow at my confession. “I knew it,” he whispered and kissed my cheek.

***

“Uhh, back the fuck up.” Connie pointed at Jean who was wrapping his arm around me in the kitchen. “You two like each other?” he waved his finger between us before stuffing his fork in his mouth again. I nodded and pushed myself closer to Jean. “Oh no.” he groaned pushing himself off his stool.

“No no no no no…” he repeated in annoyance as he walked past us. I frowned, turning to see him throwing himself on the couch. He threw his head back, another groan leaving his lips as he ran his hands us his face.

“I thought you’d be happy for me, what’s-“

“You had sex while I was in here?” he accused us dramatically in a high-pitched voice, faking his tears. Jean instantly laughed at his friend’s accusation. I let out a sigh of relief and shook my head before laughing at Connie who was fake gagging.

“We only did it the night you saw us together.” I played off. Connie gave me a ‘you think I’m stupid’ look and sighed.

“It was an everyday thing.” Jean corrected making me elbow his waist. He winced pinching my hip earning another hit. “Seriously man?” Connie whined. I mean, at least he wasn’t mad about us liking each other. The only thing that irked him, which is by the way overdramatized and ends up being one of his silly plays, is the fact that I had sex with him when he was sound asleep.

Connie sighed, his annoyed expression turning into a sly one. “I knew you two were fucking!” he laughed sticking his tongue out and clapping his hands. “Now that I’m positive that my sister got cuffed by someone I trust, I can finally sleep in peace.” I rolled my eyes before raising my hand to smack him but Jean pulled me closer to him making it impossible for me to move.

I looked up only to be met with his browns orbs already looking down at me with pure adoration. I could tell he was going to be one of the best things that have ever happened to me and I couldn’t be more thankful. Connie was still talking but I didn’t hear a word he said. Instead, I buried my face into his red hoodie and held him tightly. Who would have thought that my insignificant crush would actually make me feel so lucky?

“-she was and still is everything I’ve always wanted.” I heard him say before kissing my forehead.

[nervouscupcakeinspace]

BTS FIC RECS (PART 2)

Jeon Jungkook/Jung Hoseok | J-Hope

Don't Get Charmed by shikiso

When an injured omega is found on their territory, Jungkook's instincts scream danger. He is the pack's omega, they don't need another one. Jungkook is doing a good enough job by himself, protecting the den and soothing the tension off everybody's shoulders.

Why is the pack so adamant on keeping that useless omega in ?

They have Jungkook, they don't need Hoseok.

Why can't they even see his little game ? Hoseok definitely knows how to play the scared and helpless omega. But, if he manages to trick everybody, he can't trick Jungkook. He is immune to his sweet scent and sweeter eyes.

He won't fall into his trap.

Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin

Omega Drip by sugamongoose

Park Jimin is the kind of alpha who makes you coffee and asks about your day before reducing his partner to a crying, writhing mess on his organic cotton sheets. He doesn't even seem to care one bit that Jungkook is a broken omega who doesn't get wet when he's supposed to.

“Are you busy right now, alpha?” Jungkook asks, holding his breath in anticipation. He can already visualise getting on his knees for the smaller man, can imagine those soft-looking hands petting his hair in approval when he shows just how good his mouth is.

Jeon Jungkook/Kim Namjoon | RM

Every Kind of Way by Oh_Hey_Tae

And then he realizes, quite belatedly, that he’s not supposed to be shaking the hand of the barista. Because that’s weird. And uncalled for. And really, really weird.

So Jungkook draws back his arm, grips the straps of his backpack, and promptly flees the building without a word spoken. Which is fine. Sometimes you have to get out of awkward social situations and blacklist particular cafés and adjust your route to school to avoid said café and the barista with the heart shaped face and his sweet pea scented hands. It happens.

“Jungkook-ah, meet Kim Namjoon.”

And sometimes during your bi-weekly dinner one of your good friends introduces you to said barista with the terribly soft hands who also happens to be getting his masters in social work to help underprivileged youth in inner city neighborhoods. Which is fine. This is fine. Jungkook is doing just fine.

 (Or: Jungkook adores everything about Namjoon except that the man can't catch a clue.)

Here Is What I Know by Oh_Hey_Tae

There are flowers growing on Namjoon’s arm. They aren’t real flowers, of course. That would be absurd. Impossible. Ridiculous. But Namjoon spends most of his lecture on Kant watching the garden of ink bloom on his skin, beginning at his pinkie and spreading across his wrist, trickling down to his elbow, curling up and around his bicep and out of sight under the sleeve of his shirt. Irises and peonies and roses and sunflowers. The girl who’s sitting beside him is staring, and when caught, gives Namjoon a bright-eyed grin before glancing back to the board. Namjoon spots a faded smiley face inked into the skin of her thumb, what looks to be a grocery list scrawled over the back of her hand. Notes or reminders from her soulmate maybe. Soulmates. Huh. It looks like Namjoon has one of those now.

try to resist, i still want it all by exarite

At first, Namjoon doesn’t think much of him.

He looks familiar, but he’s too far away for Namjoon to really see or scent out his dynamic. He’s cute, but Namjoon's not new to cute boys either. He's far too used to handsome, and pretty, and everything in between in the industry.

But then he stands up. Namjoon's eyes catch on the swell of his belly, and every nerve in his body lights up, his mind going blank, and—

Oh, he breathes. He's pregnant.

::

Namjoon fucks a pregnant Jungkook.

just let me adore you by elle_O_moonchild *

Rockstar omega Jungkook has never let an alpha tie him down. He was independent, and happy, and had no need for a domineering knothead to mess up his career and lifestyle.

But powerful and wealthy alpha Namjoon only wants to spoil the pretty omega rotten.

or

A smitten alpha Namjoon gets a weary omega Jungkook to go on a date with him and shows him just how good they can be together…

Jeon Jungkook/Kim Seokjin | Jin

more and more and more by moonsuns

"If you haven’t had sex by the time you’re twenty, then I’ll have sex with you. That way you’ll have a guaranteed end date for your virginity.”

“Do you promise, hyung?”

"I promise."

The problem was, Seokjin never expected to be called on it.

you shouldn't give it to me (good like that) by jamaisvore

opposites in the eyes of the media, but a perfect match in each other's arms.

or: supermodel!jk x rockstar!jin

Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Kim Namjoon | RM

Pull Me Under by Oh_Hey_Tae

It’s been two weeks. Hoseok has managed to survive two weeks of Kim Namjoon’s progressively darkening thighs and his cheek craters and his swooshy hair and that stupid laugh he does that makes him sound like a bleating sheep.

Yoongi looks over his shoulder. Stares. Slowly draws his gaze back to Hoseok. “Are we discussing the same man who tried to brush his teeth with sunscreen yesterday?”

“Ew, he did that?”

“Your voice says that’s disgusting but your face says you’re enamored.”

Hoseok presses his palms against his eyes until he sees colored spots. “Make it stop, hyung.”

  (Or: Hoseok works at a summer resort and Namjoon is the newest lifeguard. Chaos ensues.)

fall underneath by crycoby

“Is this secretly about your huge crush on Namjoon?” Jimin asks, his fingers digging into the back of Hoseok’s neck in a way that is frankly criminal. “You know that if you like him, you’re going to have to be more direct. He doesn’t like to assume things about people and… He overthinks a lot,” he finally settles on diplomatically.

Hoseok groans, half because of the pressure and half because the idea of talking about this, about any of this, about any of the gnarled mess that is the clutch of Hoseok’s emotions in the knot of his chest, gives him hives.

//

hoseok could talk about his big messy feelings about namjoon, or he could talk around them instead and just hope for the best. yeah. that sounds good.

Methods of Mutual Stress Relief by Only_A_Fangirl

Hoseok cringes, “How weird would it be if I actually asked to jerk off in here with you?”

“Very,” Namjoon answers instantly.

Hoseok nods, “You can choose the porn.”

Namjoon blinks, “Are you for real?”

lyre lyre lyre by oliviacirce

Namjoo regrets every life choice that has led her here, to the hard wooden floor of this dance studio, where she's lying on her back like a beached whale.

Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Kim Taehyung | V

the long and winding road by moonsuns

Hoseok is (basically) forced to go on vacation and leave his stressful idol life behind, at least for a little while. He wasn't expecting to find Taehyung, that's for sure. (He's glad he did, though.)

Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin

Procurement by FlyYouFools1 (WIP) *

Seokjin and Namjoon have waited decades for a little of their own. Taehyung just wants to pay for his little brother's education.

Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Taehyung | V

Dandelion Love (part of the (Not) Destined series) by almostsophie1

Taehyung is twenty-one when the word on his wrist turns ashen. The kind of love that soulmates share is forever out of reach.

(But enter one Kim Namjoon, who doesn't think the same.)

Kim Namjoon | RM/Min Yoongi | Suga

Bleeding Love by beebalm

Yoongi was already dressed and halfway to the door, nothing but a dry chuckle and a See you around when Namjoon asked for his number.

OR

It's not that Namjoon is hurt Yoongi only ever wanted him for a one night stand. And he doesn't have a crush. He just wishes they didn't have to keep seeing each other all the time.

Kim Namjoon | RM/Park Jimin

but i want it anyway by ameliabedelias *

Park Jimin’s roommate goes to study abroad for a semester. Kim Namjoon takes over the lease.

only lingering around you by moonsuns 

“I don't. I mean...this is going to sound awkward, but I’m...not really looking for a relationship right now.”

Namjoon considers, for a moment, elaborating and telling Jimin about everything with Hoseok, but there wouldn't be any point in that. And also, Namjoon is pretty sure that Jimin doesn't care about any of that anyway.

And he's right. At this, Jimin outright laughs. It isn’t a mean laugh, but Namjoon is pierced by the sound anyway. “Who said anything about a relationship, or even feelings? It’s just sex.”

Or, Namjoon and Jimin are friends with benefits.

Kim Seokjin | Jin/Min Yoongi | Suga

운명 (Fate) (part of the (Not) Destined series) by almostsophie1

Yoongi is part of that three percent population left without a soulmate word. It doesn't matter if he falls in love, because love isn't meant for people like him.

(Then he meets Seokjin.)

candy on my lips (part of the just desserts series) by moonbabie

Anonymous advice columnist and baby bi Kim Sujin meets queer club president Min Yoonji, and does the following: writes some cheesy advice columns, cuts her hair, and figures out her shit. (aka a queer romcom meets emotional constipation, self-discovery, and clueless wlw)

Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin

pull me closer in the backseat of your rover by moonsuns

Jimin had just wanted to get off. He didn't think he'd end up with a boyfriend at the end of it all.

Or, another friends with benefits AU.

Nip & Bloom by sugamongoose (WIP) *

The year is 2021, and yet traditional and oppressive views of alpha/omega relations run rampant in the Korean society. Unmated Park Jimin is placed in a government programme which pairs delinquent omegas with support mates to make them more comfortable in their submission. Jimin’s alpha for six months turns out to be Min Yoongi, a tiny music producer who wears fuzzy sweaters, and who won’t stop talking about his kitten Holly.

“You look like an omega,” Jimin blurts out. The strange alpha flashes him a smile that reveals the pink of his gums. “Is that something you prefer? I saw your file, and it said you identify as queer.” “Oh, you looked at my file just to see if I like to fuck other omegas? Knot swelling yet?”

POLY RELATIONSHIPS

OT7 - Relationship

indiscentsible by cloudyworld *

Jungkook had been a little disappointed when, after all the build-up and speculation, he'd presented as a beta. Betas are great! They play an important role in society: level-headed, big-picture thinkers, the solid foundation that holds everyone together. But that pull of instinct that comes with being an alpha or omega, the feeling of belonging... He was crushed at the thought he might never get to have that.

In a pack with three alphas and three omegas already, presenting beta was a gift; Jungkook learns to see that too.

Precious Mettle by glitterandgilt (WIP) *

Jin loved his nest. He'd built it very carefully from the ground up. Spent centuries on selecting the individuals he wanted to spend the rest of his immortal life with. He was proud of his nest and protected it with a possessive love that rivaled a dragon's guard on their trove.

Jin didn't get the chance to go through that evaluation process with his newest treasure. But he would never let it go.

Or

When Jin's blood is stolen and used to sire a new fledgling, Jin has two choices: to ignore the strands of magic binding him to his new childe, or to lay claim to another jewel for his collection. He chooses the latter and drags his entire nest into a situation none of them were anticipating.

Kim's Seven by Gobi17 (WIP) *

Jungkook, 17 year old YouTuber, is in awe of the 6 hot boys who have adopted him online.

Bangtan are a dangerous group of vigilantes who seize the opportunity to kidnap the stepson of their latest target.

Found Kin by Adaptive_Artist (WIP)

Jungkook is starving. Food doesn't make anything better, and his teeth ache like someone is hammering on them. He thought he was cursed. Turns out he's a hatchling kin, and is now the precious baby of the renowned Kim nest. He's also growing little fangs.

Huh.

love bites (series) by feraljk (WIP) 

Summary from the first fic:

newly-turned vampire jungkook still has a lot to learn, but his hyungs are there to help him. taehyung enlists yoongi and jin to teach the fledgling how to teethe and helps him discover how much of a bonding activity teething can be.

or: trans koo and tae teeth on their hyungs and also come

Isn't it lovely? (all alone) by hopefully2020

At age eighteen, all citizens are given a concentration that will determine their fields of study. A small empty square on their wrist will gain a color corresponding to their skill set. Everyone’s fear is that their square color is black, meaning they are destined for a life of crime. When Jungkook turns eighteen, he waits anxiously for his square to gain color, only to be presented with a blank square. He is shunned by his family, having to struggle through high school while trying to figure out what to do for the rest of his life. Jungkook's life gets flipped upside down on the day of his twenty-first birthday when the store he works at is robbed with Jungkook at the cash register. Fearing for his life he believes he is going to die, only to be saved by a figure in black with a mask covering his face. To make things even worse, Jungkook suddenly becomes the target of one of the largest drug syndicates, solely because of his new connection to his savior and five other men who turn out to be the biggest crime lords in Seoul. What happens then, you ask? Well, then the blank world Jungkook always saw starts to drip with black, just a little bit.

blueberry peaches (a serendipitous summer) by elle_O_moonchild (WIP)

Jungkook spends a life changing summer working at a beachside car wash and meets 6 new lovers who change his heart and life forever.

Jeon Jungkook/Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Kim Namjoon | RM 

Falling For an Alien From Amalthea 5 by Pyotr_Keats78 (WIP)

Jungkook has been in and out of the hospital for years with various medical problems. Eventually, his heart becomes so weak that no human medicine can save him. Believing he will die never having come out as trans to anyone, he gives up. That is until his brother Jimin tells him, “You have two choices, Jungah: you can stay here in this hospital and get high every day until your heart fails you, or you can go to Amalthea, grow a parasite, and live.”

Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V/Park Jimin

Mentoring on Marsa by FlyYouFools1

Jungkook comes to the planet Marsa after being promised a full scholarship to Marsa National University. When the scholarship falls through, his academic advisor gives him the number for a mentoring service for newly stranded omegas on Marsa. With rent due, no way home, and no success in finding a job, Jungkook calls the number. The organization sends him Min Yoongi, a fellow omega who's been living on Marsa for 8 years. Yoongi teaches him how to survive. Jungkook's first attempt at survival is alpha couple Jimin and Taehyung.

Features: Yoongi doing his best to teach Jungkook how to manage handsy alphas, handsy alphas (like all of them are touchy) taking liberties with omega protagonists, and my best attempt at writing problematic but entertaining sex. A lot of fluff too, actually. The alphas are fluffy as hell with the omegas, and pamper them a lot, even though their actual behavior is wrong.

Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V/Min Yoongi | Suga

November (series) by cuttothequickk 

Summary from the first fic: 

Sometimes, Jeongguk gets so lonely he doesn't even feel alone anymore. He's practicing, and he's very good at it. Loneliness. Being alone. It's blustery cold, and the leaves are falling from the branches of trembling trees, and Jeongguk is alone in a big city, shivering without a jacket, trying desperately to keep himself warm.

There is no one, and then there is someone. Two someones. The lovely winter boys from Daegu, Taehyung and Yoongi, opposites and equals, so loving and in love.

It would be ridiculous, really, if Jeongguk didn't fall for them, too.

Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Kim Namjoon | RM/Min Yoongi | Suga

how, or when, or from where by moonsuns

“Stop calling it my quest,” Namjoon whines, and Hoseok laughs.

“You’re the one that said it first.”

“I was drunk.”

“Well, the bad thing about going out with people, is that you can’t take back the stupid shit you said when you were drunk. Especially when they’re way less drunk than you.”

Or, after Namjoon almost dies, he decides to go on a quest to live his best life, and takes Yoongi and Hoseok along for the ride.

(* Personal favorites)

MASTERPOST FIC RECS PART 1

[iridiscent-aesthetics]

Head Cannon of Az being jealous when he sees Gwyn and Eris talking?

Hey! Thanks for asking! This is my first time writing a headcannon so I'm aware its not very perfect but I hope y'all like it!

It hurt to watch them like that. No, It didn't hurt to see Mor lean into Emerie and whisper something into her ear making the female blush furiously. It didn't hurt to see Nesta and Cassian nestled in each other's arms so irrevocably in love with each other. He didn't feel envious when Rhys watched Feyre and Nyx with starlight dancing in his gaze. He hadn't found jealousy anywhere in the corner of his thoughts when he saw Elain smile shyly at Lucien and look at him as if he was her only sun while he was comically explaining something throwing his hands in the air. No. Azriel didn't feel that gut wrenching pain of realization that he was utterly alone. He didn't feel envious of any of his friends' happiness. No. He felt happy for them. Truly.

It was them. It troubled him hugely to see that male talk to her. To see fucking Eris Vanserra absolutely smitten talking to Gwyneth. It hurt him that Gwyn seemed equally interested in associating with the likes of Eris. It made him envious to the depths of his soul to hear Gwyn's melodious laughter along the hall and know that he wasn't the one that caused her cackle. He was watching the Autumn court heir and the Vaylkrie across the room; engrossed in conversation, either oblivious to the rest of the world around them. Azriel clutched his wine glass firmly, his knuckles white and shadows aggressively swarming around him. "Stop sulking and go take action thundercloud." He turned to his side to see Amren twirling her wine pretending it was blood. "I understand that I might not be the best person for relationship advice. But it is glaringly obvious that you're considering the million ways to kill Eris." She said with a slight smirk and knowing glow in her eyes. Indeed he was deliberating all the ways he could make Eris suffer. "And as much as I would enjoy that, the night court finds an ally in him and hence I'll have to prevent you from doing so. Instead, how about you man up and go do something about that." She said pointing a sharp finger at the two redheads. "What, how do I.." Az began with an almost whine. "Don't ask me how boy. You're half a millennia old. If I had my way I'd already have kissed the priestess." Az gave her a look of complete disbelief before shaking it off in realization that the tiny female might hold true to her word. He gathered all the courage he had and walked across the room to Gwyn thinking of how to get her attention to him. Would he tell Eris to simply fuck off, that he was troubling his Gwyn? But Gwyn didn't seem troubled. Would he ask Gwyn to have a word about her training and carry her as far away as possible from everyone else? The question of training at this ceremony seemed uncalled for, but anything to get Eris away from Gwyn. As he approached them he finally saw Gwyn completely up close. She was radiant. There were no words to describe her beauty. There she was the light of his life, in a turquoise dress that brought out the color of her beautiful eyes with sleeves that fell from her shoulders, dress bunched at her waist and then flowing down in a gradient of dark blue to her ankles like a fountain. Her wild chestnut hair left loose today and dancing with the wind. She seemed to have try and tamed them with a bunch of star shaped clips on one side that reminded him of her freckles and the constellations they made. How many times had he had to refrain himself so hard from holding her beautiful face in his hands and kissing all of those freckles, counting them and tracing the constellations he could form. Her bright teal eyes stood out even more today outlined by kohl while her lips were painted a plush peach. Mother how he wanted to kiss those divine lips. Az stopped dead in his tracks. He shouldn't be thinking of Gwyn in such a way. After all that she had been through, she didn't need Az thinking of her like this, with desire. She deserved better than this. Better than him. He was about to turn back when he caught eye of Eris looking at Gwyn with such fondness. Az couldn't stop himself then, He walked straight up to them. About to punch Eris straight in the nose when Gwyn looked at him with a glimmer in her teal eyes with the brightest of smiles. "Shadowsinger! Hello!" "Spymaster. What brings you here to us?" Eris bit at him as if annoyed to be disturbed. Azriel cut him a short glare and focused back to his priestess. What would he say now, why had he come here to them. "Gwyneth," he gave her his softest smiles "A dance?" His words tumbled out surprised of his own boldness. Gwyn seemed to consider him a heartbeat, enough for him to fear his rejection, before she answered, "It would be my honor, of course. Excuse me Eris, I'll get back to you." She threw him a promising smile to which the male mocked a bow "I'll be holding up to you on that." He said

with a wink and kissed her hand before turning away. Az tensed. He was going to kill Eris, for so much as looking at Gwyn and then he had dared to talk to her, wink at her and Kiss her hand! He was going to rip that sorry excuse of a male to shreds. Ally or what may go to hell. "Shadowsinger?" Came that familiar voice, Az couldn't stop glaring at the eldest Vanserra as he made his way though the crowd. White hot anger seeping his veins and calling at him for violence. "Azriel?" Gwyn placed a steady hand on his stiffened chest. Was it the way he finally heard his name on her lips in her melodious voice, or was it how her touch to his chest unlocking something deep within, he felt a simmering gold ribbon making way out as he turned to look at Gwyn. The ribbon reached from him to her. Was this it? Was this the mating bond? No, it couldn't be. He was delusional. He had been so obsessed with a mating bond that he was now imaging things. Gwyn couldn't be his mate. She was so much more than him. Strong and courageous, beautiful and determined, she was glowing happiness and light. In no way did he deserve her, his scarred hands and tainted soul, the overwhelming darkness in him. His intimidating shadows and him, a hopeless monster. She saved all those children at Sangravah, at the expense of her own. And him? He couldn't even save her, couldn't be there for her on time. No Gwyn was so better than him, there was no way the Cauldron would bless him with a mate and more at that, such a wondrous mate, no matter how much he desired it to be true. It was not, this was the final stage of mania hallucinations. And as if on cue, the ribbon bridging them reduced to a faint presence. "Is there something wrong?" Came her soothing voice again, breaking him away from his darkest thoughts threatening to spiral down to his worst of nightmares. It took all his five hundred years of being a Spymaster to forge his expression neutral before looking into the depths of her oceanic eyes with his darkened gaze. Gwyn's eyebrows furrowed with concern and confusion. For him. Mother above, she was adorable. One look at her and he was smiling, "Nothing at all, Shall we?" He gave her his arm and beckoned to the dance floor. Gwyn yet seemed unconvinced but didn't complain as she walked by him to the midst of the floor. As a slow song played, Az snaked his arm around her waist and held her hand in another as she placed one on his shoulder, slowly swaying to the tune, smiling contently. "That was the first time you called me by name." Her eyes widened a fraction "I- I didn't, I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable." Now it was his turn for his eyes to widen "What-Gwyneth, No. I liked it." A blush creeped up his neck. "It felt nice, hearing my name from you." She took a second to consider and then one corner of her lips curled up as she answered "Well then I'll make sure to call you Azriel more often Azriel." To that he laughed, laughed from deep within in his heart. Marvelling at how his name sounded rolling off her tongue. And at that moment, with Gwyn in his arms, looking up at him with her wide, beautiful eyes and bright smile, such adoration. His shadows swirling around them; in their darkness making Gwyn glow brighter than ever, that faint ribbon twirling around them pulling them closer to each other. As something sparked in his chest once more, Az decided; he wanted this. He wanted this feeling for the rest of his life. Nothing more, nothing less. And he would do anything to make Gwyn smile. He would be the darkness to her light.

I tried! Always open for suggestions and feedback. Feel free to send me Head Canons and other prompts!

[nurse-buckley]

Vaccination Day

Fandom: 9-1-1  Word Count: 1,422 Pairing: Eddie x Reader  Warnings: Mentions of the pandemic and needles.  Summary: You get nervous when it’s yours and Eddie’s turn for the vaccine, but he’s right there by your side.  Tagslist: @firemedicdiaz, @fireladybuckley, @pupandangelscoffee, @winterreader-nowwriter, @dayrin085  Written for my lovely @firemedicdiaz​ and beta’d by the amazing @evanbuckos​

“Hey, I thought I’d find you here.” Eddie announces as he pokes his head around the doors to the open ambulance. 

You were busy taking stock and restocking the rig after the last call you’d been on. You were hoping Eddie would forget about your appointment later that day, but unfortunately for you, you weren’t that lucky. 

Deep down, you knew that you needed the vaccine, and it was one step closer to being back to ”normal”, whatever “normal” would be after the pandemic dies down and life returns to normal. 

“I spoke to Bobby, told him we’re going for our vaccines this afternoon and he’s given us the time off,” he smiles. He’s been excited ever since he got the notification through that the pair of you could book in for your first dose. He was constantly scared of passing on the virus to Chris or abuela, and knew this was the first step in reducing that fear. 

His smile falters when he sees your expression. You’re refusing to meet his eyes, focussing on the task at hand. “Y/N? I thought you’d be excited.” 

“Yeah? Excited to be stuck with a huge needle, I’m thrilled,” you snap. You immediately regret your reaction, softening your features as you finally meet Eddie’s gaze. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” 

Eddie shook his head, stepping closer to you and joining you in the rig. “Want to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours? You’ve been quiet all morning, you’re not acting like yourself.” 

“I’m just stressed and anxious. The pandemic, the endless calls, the covid anxiety.” 

“Shh,” the firefighter soothes as he takes your hands in his. “Take a deep breath for me.” 

You do as he says, following the deep rise and fall of his chest as he exaggerates his breathing for you to follow. You follow his actions for a few minutes, feeling slightly more relaxed as you continue the breathing exercise. “Good girl,” he soothes, smiling as your breath comes slightly easier. 

“Is there anything else that’s bothering you that you want to get off your mind, maybe I can help.” 

You sigh, deciding how you were going to explain your anxieties, knowing yourself they’re not always logical, but anxiety often overrules logic. 

“I know, scientifically, exactly how this vaccine works. I also know statistically that the odds of a serious reaction are less than 0.04% yet my brain won’t stop screaming at me, ‘you’re going to be that 1 in a million’ Eddie,” you choke out the last statement, as the tears begin to fall freely.  

“Mi amor,” he began, moving your chin so he could meet your eyes. “That isn’t going to be you. Logical Y/N knows that, we just need to convince anxious Y/N as well.” 

“It’s going to take a horse’s dose of Ativan to get me through that door.” 

“We can sort that. We’ll get you something to calm your nerves, and we’ll go from there okay? Baby steps.” 

You nod, breathing a little easier now you’d voiced your fears and shared them with Eddie; no longer having them constantly swirling in your head. 

You walk through the doors to the clinic, stopping short as you see the small queue of people in front of you signing in. Eddie senses your hesitation, guiding you forward with a hand on your back, gently coaxing you forward without feeling like you were being pushed into the situation against your will. 

Despite the hand guiding you forward, your feet stay planted on the ground. Eddie takes your hand, moving you to the side for some privacy. He leans down to meet your gaze, placing his hands either side of your arms to ground you. “You’ve got this, I’m going to be right with you the whole time,” he whispers, leaning in close and pressing a kiss to the side of your head. 

He can see the tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill over and his heart breaks. “Cariño, nothing is going to happen, I promise.” He says in attempts to comfort you. 

“Do you want me to go first?” the firefighter asks. 

You nod fiercely, not trusting yourself to speak. 

Eddie holds out a hand to you, giving you the option to take it. You do, holding on tightly as if your life depended on it. He guides you to the check in, signing you both in with the volunteer on the front desk before moving to the waiting area to take your seat. 

The way your knee was bouncing up and down didn’t escape the other man. He places his hand over your knee to stop the bouncing, his large warm hand covering your knee and bringing you some comfort. You grab his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly in return. 

“What do you want for dinner after this? We can order in pizza or get takeout from that place you like?”  

You knew what he was trying to do, and you thanked him for the distraction and incentive to get through the vaccination. A few minutes after discussing what the pair of you would be tucking into when you both got home, you were called forward to the nurse who’d be administering your vaccine. A volunteer made an attempt to split you up, but after seeing the death grip you had on the man, they relented, sending you both to the next room that had been freed.  

The nurse's eyes crinkled over her mask, clearly smiling if it weren’t for the PPE obscuring her features. “Alright, who’s going first then?” 

Eddie smiled, raising his free hand in the air, “that’ll be me.” 

“Actually....” you speak up from beside him, “Can-Can I go first? I’m afraid if I see you go first I’ll run.” 

Eddie lets out a chuckle at your confession, but gives you a look to show how extremely proud he was of you for stepping forward of your own accord. He holds out a hand for you, guiding you down into the seat. “Do you mind if I stay with her? Hold her hand, we’re a little nervous.” 

The nurse smiles, shaking her head, “of course, don’t be silly. You’re not the first and definitely not going to be the last who’s anxious today!” 

Eddie kneels beside your chair, turning your chin so you’re locked on his eyes. “Just focus on me, alright? Nothing else matters.” 

You suck in a shaky breath as you hear the nurse beside you uncapping the syringe, no doubt drawing up the medicine. He continued his distraction, talking about everything and anything that popped into his mind. He wished he had Buck with him at this moment, his endless useless knowledge and facts would have been great, but he isn’t completely inept when it comes to trivia. 

“A little cold,” you hear the nurse from beside you as she lifts your shirt sleeve and swipes the cool alcohol swab over your exposed skin. 

Eddie smiled, “just look at me, alright. Deep breath.” 

“Little pinch,” the nurse announces, waiting until you exhaled to insert the needle. 

Before you know it, you hear the clink of the empty syringe being placed into the sharps bin behind you and a plaster being placed over the pinprick. 

“There we are, all done!” the nurse announces. 

You shakily release the breath, smiling at Eddie letting out a small giddy laugh. You knew better than anyone that anxiety often made simple tasks seem insurmountable, but just as Eddie had promised, he stayed with you the entire time. 

The nurse smiles at the interaction as she cleans up and prepares the next dose for Eddie. Allowing you to calm down from the ordeal before she asks for Eddie to take a seat. You swap positions, knowing he didn’t need it but held Eddie’s hand through his vaccination, just like he’d done for you. 

The nurse gives you your appointment cards for your scheduled second doses along with the information leaflet from the vaccine, covering any side effects you should look out for. Eddie takes them both, pocketing them, knowing if you were to look at them you’d likely work yourself up. The pair of you are sent out into the waiting room, with instruction to wait for ten minutes to ensure there were no side effects. When the ten minutes are up, you and Eddie walk out hand in hand, your thoughts on the delicious meal you were going to reward yourself with when you get home.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 15 - ao3 -

“I thought Sect Leader Wen was above visiting other sects,” Lan Qiren said sullenly, leading Wen Ruohan on a tour through the Cloud Recesses. He had nothing better to do: classes had been temporarily dismissed on account of sect business, what with the teachers all being recruited to receive the Wen sect’s retinue; at this rate, this year’s rogue cultivators wouldn’t learn anything of value, and Lan Qiren had the sneaking suspicion that it was somehow all his fault.

“I can’t imagine why you think that. Don’t I attend every discussion conference without fail?” Wen Ruohan said smoothly even though that wasn’t what Lan Qiren had meant and he knew it.

Wen Ruohan normally treated himself and his clan like the imperium, preferring to summon visitors rather than go to visit. Presumably, in this instance, it was only that his desire to bother Lan Qiren had overcome his vanity, or else perhaps he’d reminded himself that even the Emperor would sometimes summer at the homes of his lackeys, allowing them an unasked-for opportunity to pay homage to him.

Truly a very irritating man. Lan Qiren was almost entirely sure that it wasn’t his adolescent brain speaking, either, though he supposed he couldn’t discount the possibility entirely – he’d been very irritated by Cangse Sanren, too, and they were friends now.

Actually, he was still pretty irritated with her sometimes. Maybe it was just a symptom of adolescence. Or perhaps it was that strange similarity he sometimes found himself observing between them, whether it was their seeming timelessness or their overweening arrogance...

Well, when in doubt, there were always the rules: Do not disrespect your elders.

Also possibly Have affection and gratefulness, though that one had always been hard.

Lan Qiren took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and then released it, taking stock of himself: his walking pace was steady, his hands were clasped together so that they didn’t flail, and his appearance was calm. It was just a matter of getting his emotions under control, and he had plenty of experience with that.

“You’re right,” he finally said, releasing his irritation with an effort of willpower. “You do. I was being rude, and it was uncalled for. Is there any particular part of the Cloud Recesses that da-ge would like to see? I doubt the Library Pavilion or the main buildings have varied much since your last visit, but the gardens and wild forest are beautiful this time of year.”

Wen Ruohan was quiet for a while, the two of them walking side by side in silence, and then unexpectedly he said, “Does the Lan sect use well-water or river-water as your main source of drinking water?”

Lan Qiren stared at him in disbelief. “I’m not telling you that. That’s private!”

“Is it?”

“Not everyone’s like the Nightless City, telling everyone that they rely on a half-dozen imported sources for their food and drink and challenging them to try to do something about it,” Lan Qiren said crossly, and tried to remind himself Sneering for no reason is prohibited. “I’m not actually a half-wit, you know.”

“You misunderstand me,” Wen Ruohan said, though his eyes, narrow with satisfaction like a cat, suggested that he would have been more than happy to take advantage of the situation if Lan Qiren had been so foolish. “I only wished to know whether it was the source of water they are drinking that has rendered them all blind to the treasure they hold in their hands.”

“…I’m not showing you our treasury, either.”

Wen Ruohan barked a laugh. “That’s not what I meant, either. Why don’t you show me your Wall of Discipline? I’m sure there are a few new rules since last time.”

There probably were – the rules were like water, both eternal and in a constant state of flux – so Lan Qiren obediently turned his feet in that direction.

“It’s not a work-day,” he warned. “So you’ll miss out on any carving. But the rules are there, and I can answer any questions you have about them, if you like.”

“Any question? A bold claim.”

“Any question I know the answer to,” Lan Qiren clarified. “If I don’t, I can ask one of my teachers, or look at the books in the library.”

They walked in silence a little longer, although a surprisingly comfortable one given their age difference and Wen Ruohan’s general aura of barely restrained bloodthirst. Perhaps Lan Qiren was just getting used to it.

“Have I disturbed your afternoon plans with my visit?” Wen Ruohan eventually asked, gazing at the Wall contemplatively.

“I was going to meditate in the Cold Spring,” Lan Qiren said. “But it’s nothing I can’t do another time.”

“A Cold Spring?” A faint smirk flickered on Wen Ruohan’s face. “That’s useful for the suppression of yang energy.”

“And for cultivation, and for healing, and for encouraging clarity of thought,” Lan Qiren said, and managed to keep from rolling his eyes. “Of course, if da-ge is having some trouble controlling his lascivious thoughts, he is welcome to try it out. Such requests are not uncommon among newlyweds.”

Wen Ruohan was smirking outright now. “Tell me, little Lan, has that sharp tongue of yours ever cut the inside of your mouth? Or is that something you reserve for me?”

Lan Qiren pretended not to hear him and instead pointed out one of the rules on the Wall. “I always rather liked that one.”

Wen Ruohan glanced over and saw Have wins and losses - otherwise known, colloquially, as don’t be a sore loser - and grinned. “Oh, really? I find I’m rather partial to Honor the aged and wise, myself.”

“Really? And here I would have thought someone as humble as da-ge would opt for Do not say one thing and mean another, or maybe the prohibition against praising yourself.”

“Are you saying I do not count as aged, little Lan?”

“I would never question your years,” Lan Qiren said. “But the rule does include two clauses.”

Wen Ruohan was surprised into a snicker. “Sharp and sharper! Is this more of your vaunted Do not tell lies?”

“Be of one mind,” Lan Qiren retorted. “Anyway, you enjoy it, or else you would’ve just pointed out Do not argue with your family.”

“Indeed, I am not Qingheng-jun,” Wen Ruohan said, his smile poisonous, and Lan Qiren, struck dead on by the accurate blow, could only glare at him. “My little brother can argue with me any time he pleases…and does, I find. I told you to come to the Nightless City, and you disobeyed.”

“Learning comes first,” Lan Qiren said. “I had classes. Like I told you!”

“And your father and brother agreed with your prioritization?”

Lan Qiren winced, having not told them of Wen Ruohan’s request for exactly that reason.

Wen Ruohan only smirked, though, and did not call him out on it further. “Perhaps I will take you up on your offer,” he remarked instead, and for a moment Lan Qiren had no idea what he was talking about. “Travel is always so wearying, and I’ve heard fine things about the quality of the Cold Spring in Gusu.”

Right, that.

Lan Qiren was pretty sure he was allowed to make that offer.

“Unless of course you planned to have other company there…?” Wen Ruohan glanced at him and saw his confusion. “Your little immortal’s disciple lover?”

“Certainly not!” Lan Qiren exclaimed. “Men and women do not mix like that. Anyway, she’s not my lover. We’re only friends. She’s agreed.”

Wen Ruohan’s eyebrows went up as if Lan Qiren had revealed more than he’d intended.

“Very well,” he said, sounding almost agreeable. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Lan Qiren eyed him suspiciously.

“I’d still like to meet her.”

Of course he would.

“She might not like you,” Lan Qiren warned, shaking his head. Cangse Sanren was a warm and generous person, but her views were unshakable once set, and she feared nothing; he could only guess at the monstrous clash of egos that was about to take place. “But she should be by the training field at this time of day; we can go there next.”

Wen Ruohan reached out and ran his fingers along the Wall – seemingly at random, hitting Change clothes after taking a bath and No adornments that make sound as he did – and then turned to follow Lan Qiren with a look in his eyes that Lan Qiren did not understand.

“Then let us go,” he said.

As he’d thought, Cangse Sanren was practicing alone in the training field, looking especially fierce with her hair flowing freely in the wind as she danced with blade and horsetail whisk. Lan Qiren waited until she was done with her current set before clearing his throat to announce their presence; when she turned, he pulled out a ribbon from his sleeve – he’d taken to carrying spares – and offered it to her.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you,” he said to her. “It doesn’t matter how high your cultivation is, it’s still not going to help you in a fight if the wind changes mid-move and you get smacked in the face with your own hair.”

“Maybe,” she sniffed. “But I look amazing.”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes.

“This is Cangse Sanren, a disciple of Baoshan Sanren,” he told Wen Ruohan. “She has no personal name, so don’t ask for one. Cangse Sanren, this is Sect Leader Wen.”

Lan Qiren had heard rumors that Wen Ruohan had once had a personal title, but that he hadn’t liked it, and that he’d ensured that no one ever dared to use it to his face. At any rate, Lan Qiren didn’t know it now and could not use it as an introduction.

Not that Cangse Sanren would have cared, of course. She raised her hands in a salute, boldly keeping her head raised and the bow shallow enough to be insolent.

“I’ve heard of you,” she said, her eyes slightly narrowed.

“And I of you,” Wen Ruohan responded. “It’s been a long time since a disciple has descended from the immortal mountain. Tell me, are you planning on joining the Lan sect?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” she said. “Are you planning on proposing some alternative you think I might like better?”

“Perhaps I will. You never know what the future might bring.”

“Knowing the present and the past would seem a sufficient guide to me.”

Lan Qiren looked between them in growing alarm as they exchanged seemingly pleasant words in cutting tones. It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected this, but perhaps not quite so quickly...

“Could the two of you maybe not do this?” he asked, feeling a little plaintive. He didn’t want to have to explain how a casual tour designed to kill time had escalated into an inter-sect issue. “Cangse Sanren, if my da-ge’s presence bothers you, we can just leave.”

Cangse Sanren broke away from the staring match she’d started with Wen Ruohan to frown at him. “You call him da-ge?”

“Is there any reason he shouldn’t?” Wen Ruohan’s voice was as smooth as the silk used to execute empresses. “He’s my sworn brother, after all.”

“Oh, I know that,” she said. “It’s only that he calls Qingheng-jun ‘xiongzhang’.”

Wen Ruohan seemed a little surprised by that. He glanced at Lan Qiren, who scowled back at him. “So what?” he said, feeling oddly defensive. “You asked to be called ‘da-ge’.”

“I suppose I did,” Wen Ruohan said, and his lips curled upwards in satisfaction.

“Hey, Lan-xiao-gege,” Cangse Sanren suddenly said, and Lan Qiren automatically glared: he didn’t like her calling him that. “Could you get me a ribbon from my room?”

“What? I just gave you –”

“There’s one in particular inside a qiankun pouch on my desk,” she said, barreling on. “You can just bring the whole thing. I need it rather urgently, and for various reasons cannot go myself.”

“But –”

“You shouldn’t deny a lady in need, little Lan,” Wen Ruohan interjected. “Don’t forget that chivalry is one of your rules. Go and return; I will wait for you here.”

“And I’ll keep an eye on him to make sure he does,” Cangse Sanren said, which was horribly rude even if he did somewhat need that reassurance. “Please, Qiren-gege? Would you?”

“…all right,” Lan Qiren said, having the distinct feeling that he was being ganged up on. “I’ll be back right away.”

There was a rule against running, but he’d long ago mastered the art of walking as quickly as he could without breaking any of the rules against haste; he was able to retrieve the pouch and return to the training field within a single ke, which he thought might have broken some sort of record. Even so, by the time he returned with the pouch, Cangse Sanren and Wen Ruohan were standing side-by-side with identical expressions of smug satisfaction that suggested that they’d accomplished whatever it was that they’d so obviously wanted him out of the way for.

Hopefully not a recruitment into the Wen sect. His brother would kill him.

“Ah, Qiren-gege!” Cangse Sanren said, and accepted the pouch. As if purposefully adding insult to injury, she tied it to her waist without even bothering to pretend to root around inside for the ribbon or whatever thing she had so ‘urgently’ needed from it. “You’re the best.”

“And you’re a pest,” he told her, but she only looked pleased with herself. He wasn’t going to get any answers out of her, and he didn’t even bother to hope for one from Wen Ruohan, who was exactly the same. He looked at him regardless: “Da-ge, are you done here? Even though they haven’t sent word, I’m sure the elders have finished preparing to receive you properly, so you can finally do whatever it is that you came to the Cloud Recesses to do.”

Get out of my way maybe, he meant, and not especially subtly, either.

“Uh, Qiren-gege,” Cangse Sanren said, grinning at him. “I’m pretty sure he’s already doing that.”

Lan Qiren refrained from rolling his eyes at her yet again – nobody would gather up their entire retinue to travel halfway across the cultivation world to see him – and turned expectantly to Wen Ruohan.

“I gave my lieutenants orders to begin negotiations without me,” he said, looking disinterested. “Your sect elders will not want me to disturb them until they have reached preliminary agreement on the main points, so as to avoid losing face for either sect in the event we can’t reach an appropriate resolution.”

Lan Qiren hadn’t thought of that. He supposed it made sense.

Irritating, irritating sense.

“We’ve already seen quite a lot of the Cloud Recesses,” Wen Ruohan added. “Why don’t we take some tea in your rooms?”

Lan Qiren thought about his rooms, which were still in a terrible state, and tensed – he’d neatened up as best as he could after his tantrum in the little time he’d had to himself, but removing all the broken things had left the space bare and uninviting. He wasn’t even sure he even had a matching tea set left.

“You should go down to Caiyi Town,” Cangse Sanren announced. “It has a thriving market full of unique goods, and from what I hear you have a new bride, Sect Leader Wen. If you don’t get her something from your trip, she’ll never forgive you.”

Wen Ruohan hummed thoughtfully, and Lan Qiren seized on the excuse to nod fervently and usher Wen Ruohan towards the gates instead of his rooms.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find something to her taste,” he told Wen Ruohan, and for some reason remembered how the man’s long-nailed hand, capable of crushing mountains, had so delicately held the bowl Lan Qiren had painted as he had drunk his wedding toasts, as if he’d been afraid of causing the slightest damage to it. “There’s plenty there.”

“I’m sure there is,” Wen Ruohan said, and to Lan Qiren’s relief they were able to spend the next two shichen wandering slowly through the market. Wen Ruohan seemed to be particularly interested in stalls or shops selling household goods, whether vases or inkstones or paperweights, or else in paintings and other decorations; he solicited Lan Qiren’s thoughts on them all, and insisted on hearing them no matter how much Lan Qiren tried to demur.

“I really don’t know how much it’ll help you to know that I personally prefer my décor to have neutral colors with abstract designs,” he said, rubbing his forehead after one particularly extended discussion with a very enthusiastic shop manager in which they, again, did not make any purchase. “I doubt your new bride shares my excessively particular tastes.”

“What makes them excessive, rather than simply a preference?” Wen Ruohan asked, strolling over to where Lan Qiren was standing and running a finger along the blanket Lan Qiren had been absent-mindedly kneading with his hands out of lack of anything better to do. It was made of multilayer silk, airy as a cloud but trapping enough heat to allow for some warmth, and some clever designer had introduced some sort of subtle pattern to the embroidery that made it feel almost fuzzy. Lan Qiren had liked it at once, although regrettably it was the sort of expensive that was beyond the reach of even his generous allowance, especially since he’d so recently depleted it; it would have required him to rely on sect credit to obtain it.

He was technically entitled to do so, especially as one of the main branch family, but it wasn’t worth the snippy comments about Do not wallow in luxury that he’d invariably get for it. When he was younger, his brother had, in a rare moment of sympathy, told him that he’d be able to do much more and allow himself far more freedom while still avoiding such criticism if only he weren’t so insistent on talking about the rules all the time, but at that age Lan Qiren had struggled tremendously with focusing on other subjects and it had seemed easier to simply give up a few privileges. Later, of course, he’d realized that he didn’t have to give up those rights at all – the rule against luxury was intended to forestall dissipation and waste, the prioritizing of self-indulgence over duty, not occasional purchases designed to make life more comfortable – but his austere habits had remained. It was easier to pretend to have a preference towards asceticism and restraint than to admit that he was just being picky again, that he’d rather no blanket than a scratchy one or that loud colors or busy designs hurt his eyes and distracted him from his studies no matter how beautiful the art.

“I don’t suppose you remember those greens they were serving, the first time we met?” Lan Qiren asked dryly. “The ones I didn’t eat? It’s a bit like that.”

“Mm, I recall,” Wen Ruohan said, which surprised Lan Qiren: the other man’s memory must be prodigious to recall such a small event in such a long life. “You cried when you tried to force yourself.”

“It was a physical reaction,” Lan Qiren said through gritted teeth. How did Wen Ruohan always manage to find the most irritating take on any subject? “I gagged, that’s all. Anyway, all I meant was that I’m picky and particular, set in my ways and preferences, and what I like doesn’t necessarily transfer to other people.”

He wanted to ask Are you planning on getting something here already, but that would be crossing the line from blunt to intolerably rude, given that Wen Ruohan was his guest and his elder. Instead, he waited until it seemed like Wen Ruohan was done talking, and then edged pointedly towards the exit in the hope that the older man would get the hint.

In the end, they returned to the Cloud Recesses just in time for dinner, in which Lan Qiren was seated next to Wen Ruohan but which, per Lan sect rules, was silent, and was happily sidelined for most of the discussions that took place afterwards, which were mostly about sect affairs. The next two days Wen Ruohan spent fully ensconced in negotiations with Lan Qiren’s father and brother, and the day after that he was scheduled to leave – he had made plans to visit the Jin sect next before returning to Qishan, a route that ever so coincidentally would make it convenient for him to unofficially swing by Qinghe on his return as well – and in the end they only had time to take tea a few more times, almost always in the company of others.

Lan Qiren breathed a sigh of relief at having managed at least one successful one-on-one interaction with Wen Ruohan that hadn’t blown up in his face. He obtained belated permission for his invitation to the Cold Spring and mentioned to Wen Ruohan that he could take advantage of it during his next visit, whenever that might be – Wen Ruohan had seemed pleased by the offer – and obediently watched the visitors depart before returning, at long last, to his classes.

There were whispers, of course, but he ignored them with the ease of long practice. His sworn brotherhood was unusual, inevitably drawing attention; that would not change, just as it would not change the existence of it, and so other people would simply have to grow bored of their gossip first.

It wasn’t until later, when classes broke for the day, that he finally went back to his rooms.

His rooms, which –

Did not look like his rooms.

Lan Qiren stared.

What should have been bare walls and a cracked table and a bed with a single sheet had been transformed: there were paintings and vases, each with the subtle designs he favored, the latter filled with flowers emitting a cool and subtle scent; the incense burner had been replaced with one of delicate and intricate copperwork, a perfect match to the copper accents that adorned the new table, made of dark wood, that had replaced the one he’d broken. Even the pillows and blanket had been replaced – and he recognized that blanket, expensive and unnecessary, with clever embroidery and multiple layers of silk –

“His taste’s a bit much, I think,” Cangse Sanren said from behind him, having apparently followed him in at some point when he hadn’t noticed. “But I suppose you can’t fault him for efficiency.”

Lan Qiren turned to stare at her. “You – you knew about this?”

She grinned at him.

“You didn’t say – you didn’t tell – !” Lan Qiren looked around. “He was shopping for me?”

“All your fault,” she said cheerfully. “Apparently you were the one who started it all, giving him a gift –”

“He was getting married!”

“Some men are unreasonably competitive, Qiren-gege. Your sworn brother is one of them.”

“I – a competition – ?!”

“Possibly he also felt bad about getting you drunk and taking advantage of you,” she said. “And wanted to make up for it somehow. Just a thought.”

Lan Qiren flapped his hands in the air, unable to form words for a while – not least because he was pretty sure Wen Ruohan didn’t do emotions like felt bad, and probably maxed out at this made you have feelings which are inconvenient for me – and then finally settled on some: “What did the two of you talk about?!”

Cangse Sanren poked at the new guqin stand in the corner, dark wood and copper as well, embedded with a few dimly glowing night-pearls, and nodded to herself in satisfaction at its balance. “Blind people with no judgment or appreciation, mostly.”

“…what?!”

“I may have also mentioned that your room was looking a bit too ascetic recently…”

“Cangse Sanren!”

She laughed her peculiar laugh, the deep one that came from her belly and made everyone around her want to join in, and took to her heels as if afraid that he might chase her. Lan Qiren seriously considered it for a moment, wanting to scold her and also to extract every detail about how she had almost certainly tried to scold one of the most terrifying men currently living, but he found himself drifting over to the bed instead, putting his hands into the comfortable blanket and already imagining how well he would sleep with it tucked tightly around him.

Fine, he thought, scowling down at it with a glare that was for no one’s benefit, not even himself. Maybe next time he writes inviting me, I’ll even go.

[tastyykpop]

𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

•pairings: enemy, barista and student!jaemin x student and barista!reader

♡𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡♡

<next>

•warnings: dom!jaemin, brat!reader, brat taming, crying kink, hair pulling, choking, small praising, small size kink, degradation (slut, whore), dumbification (sexual and non sexual use) nanas kinda mean :( but gets a lil nicer :), jaemin refers to himself as nana a lot mostly when they do the dirty, bulging kink, pet names (princess, baby, baby girl, little girl, pretty girl), unprotected sex (please be safe), slight face slapping (he slaps her once), rough sex clearly, some sexual tension, I hope i got everything

You were fuming!

The boy in front of you not even batting an eyelash, just laughing at the mess dripping down your face.

You smelt like an iced americano.

People around you held their hands to their mouths in shock and others tried to hold back their laughter. Some even pointed at you or gave sympathetic looks.

It wasnt like people were surprised anymore. Jaemin always had something up his sleeve for you. But he never went as far as pouring his coffee on you.

"Aw poor baby. Do you need a napkin?" He faked sympathy with a pout and his friends began laughing. You just got up and walk by them, making sure to bump into jaemins shoulder on your way through.

It was almost everyday that Jaemin would do something so uncalled for. It was like he was made to push your buttons. Even as you're walking out of the college building, you can still hear the boy laughing at you. Or maybe it was the other students. Either way, you wanted to kill him.

As you trudged towards your car, a sense of relief washed over you. A great happiness that only comes when you finished your classes and could go home. Only this happiness stayed for a good 2 hours until you have to go to your part time job at the cafe with your favorite person of course. But its not like you can quit. You need the money so you can live and get the education you need, no matter how hard it is being with him.

It was then when you sat in your car and the squishing in the seat made your face curl into a scowl, only made you think of ways to get away with murder. It was gross really. The seats were sticky, plus your hair and clothes were sticking to you like lip gloss. A shower would be perfect right about now.

"Hi y- oh..." Your roommate, jimin, stared at your messy state. Giving you a good up and down before shrugging his shoulders, "jaemin?"

You sighed, walking over to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, "Who else? Its always him."

Jimin gave you a small smile and came closer as if ready to hug you but didn't because he didn't want to get sticky. "You know, maybe you should quit that job."

"No."

He groaned and snatched the water that you were about to sip, "Why? You'd only see jaemin in school. And you wouldnt have to stick with his bickering in work." He huffed, shaking his head, "Girls are so difficult sometimes."

You tried leaping up to grab the bottle from jimin, but all he did was hold it above his head. You stomped on his foot in return. Jimin huddled over and you snatched the bottle, smirking with victory as you put it to your lips.

"You fucking snake." Jimin hissed in pain.

A laugh fell from your lips as you walked by him, completely ignoring his words and his pain, "Im gonna take a shower."

Once you got to your room, the first thing you did was grab your work clothes, a towel, and underwear and got ready for the warm shower.

After you switched on the water and let it heat up, you stepped in and immediately felt at peace as the water cascaded over your body, cleaning off the almost dried coffee. Your hair felt lighter, like a feather and your fingers could now slip through the strands easily without an issue. The scent of your body wash overpowered the coffee smell and you felt much better. Water, soap, and coffee were beginning to fill the drain as you finished washing up. You rolled your eyes at the sight of the murky water. What a bastard.

For once you were actually happy to wear your work clothes after what had happened earlier. The clothes actually felt comfortable and jimin was becoming more and more confused as to why you were hugging yourself with a huge smile on the couch.

"No one should be that happy after a shower." He started flipping through channels on the t.v.

"Dont tell me how to feel, I dont smell like jaemins coffee anymore." You gushed overdramtically. Jimin could only role his eyes.

"Please...you act like he's a demon of some sort."

You squinted your eyes at jimin and flared your nostrils, "he is. Hes a nasty, dumb, annoying, self centered-"

"Okay okay I get it! You hate jaemin! The funny thing is you can never get his name out of your mouth." Everything stopped and your head snapped in jimins directions.

"What are you saying?" A frown found itself on your face, jimin leaned closer.

"Im saying that maybe you might like him."

You shrieked in disgust, blocking your ears with your hands. Jimin laughed at your reaction. Almost falling off the couch in the process. "Ew! Gross! Why would you even think that!"

"Like I said, you can never get his name out of your mouth. I think its pretty obvious you like him." He was still giggling at you except your face was anything but happy, more grossed out at how he thought you could like such a person

"I can't stand you. I'm leaving for work." You stood up and jimin did nothing to stop you from going. Even though you still had about 15 minutes until you normally leave. "Ill be back at 9." The door slammed behind you, leaving jimin alone with another laughing fit.

You got in the car and drove off to your work, still trying to come up with a reason as to why jimin is saying all this. Sure maybe you talk about jaemin a little lot but that doesn't mean you like him. Its very much the opposite and jimin should know that. It only frustrates you the more you think about it. Liking someone like jaemin? Please. That would be your nightmare.

As you pulled up to the cafe, there were only a few other cars parked. Few were from other workers but the majority were most like customers or people just trying to get a free parking space. Lucky for you, there were many open spaces, unlike when you come later and they're filled. Maybe leaving earlier wasnt such a bad idea. It saved you the 3 minute walk.

"Y/n! You're just on time!" One of your coworkers, irene, called out as you stepped inside the shop. "We need help back here!" You had no time to even begin to say your shift hasn't started yet when irene took you by the hand and dragged you to where the coffee was being made. "We have a bunch of online orders coming in so can you please help us with the coffee and food?" She tossed you a brown apron for you to put on and you nodded, trying to get your brain to speed up with everything in the world.

It was so quiet when you walked in that you never even realized that the back was busy. Coffee cups were filled and put into trays for orders, food was being heated or baked. It was a chaotic place right now and all you could do was help. So as fast as you could, you began with the first order on the screen. A large mocha with extra extra sugar, whipped cream, and chocolate curls. Easy enough you thought as you reached for a cup but a hand beat you to it.

Your eyes looked up at the person in front of you and just when you thought everything was going fine, it wasn't, "What are you doing here so early?" You asked bitterly.

"I always come in early. What are you doing here so early?" Jaemin asked whilst holding a death grip on the cup.

"Just felt like coming early." You muttered, watching as jaemin turned away with a scoff, quickly cutting the conversation short. "Bastard."

Jaemin was busy making what you were originally going to do, so you looked for another order to get ready. It was just two cake pops and a small strawberry banana smoothie. Something you've been craving recently from the lack of sweetness and fruit in your day to day life.

The cake pops and smoothie were quick to make and were soon sent off to the customer. You happily beamed and wished them good day once they left.

After then there was a familiar face with a friend right next to him, he was quite handsome you must say. He was indeed so handsome that he just looked unreal. "Hey jimin. Whose this?" You nodded towards the bright black haired man.

"This is taemin! He wanted some coffee so I brought him- hey stop staring at him!" Jimin snapped you out of your trance and taemin chuckled.

"Its okay shes cute." He eye smiled, showing off his perfectly white teeth. He's definitely not real.

Jimin tsk'd, "Until you get to know her."

"Yeah yeah... whatever." You smiled at him, completely oblivious to what he just said.

They both ordered and took a seat next to the window. You were still staring at taemin with your head in your hand until someone tapped your shoulder, "Who are they?" Jaemins voice rang in your ears, making you stand up straight.

"Thats my roommate, jimin, and his friend taemin." You glanced back at the boys, mainly at taemin and just stared like he was your first crush.

"Quit staring your gonna scare him away." Jaemin said earning himself a chuckle from you.

You stuck your tongue out, "He called me cute."

The boy smirked from ear to ear and leaned in close to your face, "He was lying." You grumbled and pushed him away from you, getting annoyed by his presence very quickly.

"Jaemin and y/n, get back to work we have orders to do!" Irene called out. Both of you quickly returning to your stations and getting things ready.

"Look at him. Hes basically waiting for me to come over to him." Seulgi, another person in this school you dispise, said as she looked at jaemin in the back of the room. She wasn't very quiet either considering you were only a few seats away from him. So it only meant that jaemin could hear her, but chose to ignore it. Typical boy.

"Honestly. He looks so good today too." Sana, her best friend, commented.

"Oh and did you hear what he was planning on doing today to y/n? Apparently he's gonna-"

"Class get back in your seats, we have much to discuss." The professor stood in the front of the class. Everyone shifted and moved to their appropriate places and waited for the teacher to begin. Unlike you, who was wondering what seulgi was going to say next. If its something worse than coffee being poured on your head, you may just have to bury yourself six feet under after this.

As you were taking notes something flung towards your head and hit you on the side, looking over was jaemin with a smirk was he held his fingers in a sling shot shape. A rubber band was laying on your lap. Then another one. One even hit your cheek creating a small smack sound as you winced in pain. Oh you desperately wanted to get out of this seat and punch the boy in the face.

"Excuse me sir!" You called out, raising your head. The whole class looked at you and your cheeks began to heat up. "May i go to the restroom?" The professor nodded and you headed out. Not until you stopped in your tracks from a loud smack to your butt, causing the whole class to turn around again.

Jaemin was enjoying this, the way you stared at him with wide eyes and open mouth, made him just want to do it again. He never thought this reaction from you would be so entertaining and he tried his best not show it, with only a small smirk covering his face.

You rushed out of the room, faster than ever and leaned against the nearest surface you could find. Not only were you questioning reality, but also why jaemin just did that.

"That little bitch." You said to yourself as you paced back and forth in the hallway, staring at the ground.

"Excuse me?" Jaemin voice rang in your ears as you looked up with a angry red face. Steam was even coming out of your ears and nose. "Did you just call nana a bitch?" He put his hands to his chest and pouted, "Little girl you need to learn some manners." Jaemin tilted his head to the side and began walking forward.

"Shut up." You had nothing else to say as you grit your teeth, looking at the ground.

Jaemin didnt like that and grabbed the back of your neck to make you look at him, "What? Did your stupid head stop thinking? Your normally so chatty for nana what happened?"

"Jaemin i-" you cut yourself off as you felt jaemin grip the back of your neck tighter causing you to moan in pain.

"Stupid girl." Jaemin whispered, forcefully pushing you away. It was not strong enough to make you fall but at least stumble.

You glowered, earning yourself a chuckle from him. "What will it take for you to leave me alone!?"

"Bring this to table 15 please! Thanks!" Irene smiled as she handed you a small cup of iced coffee and you took it, taking it to its designated place. What you didn't except was to see taemin again, gleaming up at you.

"Hi y/n." He smiled and you tried to remain calm.

God how is someone so beautiful?

"Hey, I didnt except you to come back." You returned the warm smile and started to play with the apron around your waist.

Taemin giggled, "I actually quite like this place, its cozy." He began to take a sip from the straw, eyes still trained on you. If only you weren't so awkward with him, you wouldve found something to say other than staring at him and indulging in the beauty before you. But lucky for you someone behind the counter called for you, quickly averting your attention back to work.

The next order was a shake, so you grabbed the correct ingredients and began using the blendor, when someone came next to you, doing the same thing "You seem like your having fun flirting around." The unwanted conversation with jaemin began, "makes nana kind of jealous."

"Hm funny." You ignored him and continued blending the ice cream.

Jaemin casually rolled his eyes and glanced down at your nonchalant face before returning back to the blender, "you know you really do piss me off."

You sneered and snickered to yourself, "what are you gonna do about it?"

"I was thinking of fucking you dumb or until you know your place but maybe thats a bit too rewarding."

The cup was removed and set aside from the blender with your hands placed on your hips, "Im sorry what?"

"Did I stutter?" Jaemin raised an eyebrow and also put the cup down. You went silent, not knowing whether or not to just laugh it off or quickly run away. "And I'm still waiting on my apology."

"One, I am not going to apologize to your bitchy ass. Two, even if I did let you, you could never 'fuck me dumb', it just wouldn't happen. Now stop trying to get in my pants."

Jaemin opened then closed his mouth about to say something, but didn't and just put on a sweet smile, "Go take these to table 7 for nana." He said like he was testing yoj.

"Why? You made them."

"Nana told you to do something little girl, now do it." Jaemins sweet smile was still plastered on his face yet it intimidated you enough to do as he said.

Taemin was long gone when you walked out and you were kind of sad as you weren't able to say goodbye before he left. You placed the shake down on the table and was ready to walk away when you heard your name being called.

"Y/n? You work here?" Seulgis voice spoke as you turned around. Both her and sana were looking at you with shit eating grins.

"Doesn't jaemin also work here seulgi?" Sana asked the girl in front of her and seulgi looked as if she got the brightest idea.

"Oh yeah! Y/n can you get jaemin over here? Pretty please?" She asked sweetly yet with a hint of sourness and you listened, not feeling like ignoring her at the moment.

You told jaemin that seulgi and sana were out front looking for him and he nonchalantly went out without question. Leaving you to do some of the work alone, which you didn't mind considering its jaemin, the annoying bastard who won't leave you alone, but he does help you whenever you need it. And right now, it was a bit busy, and you needed it.

After doing 4 more online orders and sending them off through the driveway, jaemin finally came back with a scowl on his face looking ready to beat someone up. "What the hell is wrong with you!?" He raised his voice only loud enough for you to hear. But you were quite confused on what was happening.

"What are you talking about?" You asked, tilting your head to the side like a puppy.

Jaemin groaned, "I knew you were fucking dumb but come on y/n! Why is seulgi covered in the shake i gave you?"

You paused for a moment, unable to answer that. Is he assuming you spilt her shake on her? Why would you even do that in the first place. Yeah you don't like her, but you're not going to stoop to her or his level. "I dont know."

He slammed his hand on the wall near your head, startling you a bit, "You dont know huh?" You shook your head slowly. "Seulgi and sana both said you purposefully spilt the shake on seulgi. Now answer me honestly. Is that true?" You shook your head again, feeling really small and helpless under his strong gaze.

"I-i didnt spill t-the skake." You muttered quietly.

He inhaled sharply, "Then who did huh? Or maybe you don't know because you're so dumb."

"S-stop..." you frowned, looking down at floor, but jaemin had other plans and made you look up at him. A single tear slide down your cheek and you swear you saw a small grin appear on his face.

"Tell nana what happened." His voice became softer as he swiped away the stray tear on your face.

You huffed, still afraid that he'd do something to you although you knew he wouldnt purposely cause you pain. "W-well she asked me to go get you, which I did, a-and her shake was perfectly fine when I left."

"Are you saying she purposely spilt the shake on herself to make me angry at you?"

"Y-yes."

"Ill believe my little girl for now, but if I find out you are lying, you will be in big trouble got that?" Jaemin lifted his hand off the wall and proceeded to walk back out of the room. Leaving you shocked at his words and still frightened by an angry jaemin.

You went to the cash register once jaemin left to get ready to count the bills until you heard jaemin and seulgi arguing. Lucky for them, no one but you and him were working right now. Irene went home earlier and the normal crew always leave around 6:30, leaving just you and jaemin.

"It was only a prank nana. No need to get so worked up. And besides you didn't even prank her today, be glad I did for you." Seulgi said smiling at the boy in front of her.

Jaemin physically cringed when he heard his nickname roll off her tongue, "you didn't have to do that."

You stood there watching, astonished how jaemin was standing up for you. Hes supposed to hate you. Jaemin didn't even bother going with the girls when they offered him a ride, instead he stayed with you and even helped close. Something he normally doesn't do because he leaves before you and gives you all the hard things to do.

"Hurry up and finish." Jaemin spoke. A little bit of anger still laced in his voice.

"Whats your rush?"

He sighed, "I wanna go home. Plus I can't stand this place right now. I'm pissed."

You finished wiping down that last table and walked over to him, "Just go home then."

"Not without you."

You gave him a dirty look, "im not going home with you."

Jaemin leaned down, his face only inches from yours and whispered, "Remember what I said earlier hm? I wanna fuck you dumb." He then grabbed your waist bringing you closer to him, if that was possible, "Can I do that pretty girl? Can nana fuck you so hard you won't even remember anything but my cock?" You were so lost in your mind that everything became a blur. Jaemins words sounded so sweet but were so lewd. And you were so close to kissing him until he put his finger on your lips, "But you have to wait." You frowned and were only getting more angry by the second. You went from not wanting anything to do with jaemin to just about ready to beg him to kiss you. Was it that easy for him to get in your head? Or were you so sex deprived that now jaemin seemed somewhat interesting?

You laid on jaemins bed getting bored with the constant teasing. He never did anything but that. Jaemin would get close to your lips and back away as you chased him. Hed chuckle and coo at you for being so desperate. But that wasn't the point of all the teasing. He really just wanted you to beg him to kiss you. No words will come out of his mouth telling you to beg, he just excepted it to happen sooner or later. But youre too stubborn to do so, so you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss him, catching him by surprise.

Jaemins hands gripped your wrists and pulled them off his face, pinning them to the bed, "You didnt even ask to kiss me." Jaemin pulled away, raising his eyebrow high, "Dont you think thats a bit mean."

"So was teasing me, but I let you continue." You huffed, trying to free your wrists from his death grip but it was no use.

"You dont have a say on whether i continue or not. I'm in charge here and you take what I give you, understand?" You rolled your eyes. It was your intention to make jaemin angry. You wanted to push his buttons.

What you didnt know was that not answering jaemin correctly would earn you a slap to the face. And jaemin was not even fazed by it.

"Dont roll your eyes and answer nana." Jaemin smiled. "Can you say 'yes nana'?"

"Y-yes nana."

"Good girl." Jaemin muttered and began slowly kissing your jawline down to your neck, sucking here and there creating shades of purple and red marks. Oh how he loved the marks he was leaving.

You so desperately wanted to grip onto jaemins hair and pull it but he never budged his hands, only tightening his grasps. As he continued attacking your neck, you began to lift your hips up to get some sort friction. Jaemin noticed and shifted so that his thigh was in between your legs and rubbing against your clothed core. A spew of quiet moans left your lips but you wanted more. Jaemin was going to soft and slow for your liking.

"I thought you were going to fuck me dumb?" You said and jaemin lifted his head to give you a quick kiss on the lips.

"Patience baby. You aren't ready yet." He let go of your wrists and took your shirt off. The cold air made you shiver and jaemin chuckled. "I wanna make you cum at least 2 times before I fuck you."

"Then stop talking and do it." You replied, pushing your hips up to rub against his thigh, but they were pushed back down on the bed.

"Didnt I say to take what I give you?" Your head slowly moved up and down and jaemin smiled, "so why arent you happy with what nana gives you?"

"I want more..." you sighed as he started to slide your pants and panties off, discarding them somewhere in the room. His mouth slowly started kissing your inner thighs and you could feel your heat dripping with anticipation. You whined for more but only got a slap to the thigh telling you to be quiet. Needless to say you didn't listen and continued to try to get him closer to where you needed him most but pulling his hair.

Jaemin groaned grabbing your wrist again and pushed it away roughly. His patience was wearing out. You were more stubborn than he thought, but that doesn't mean he can't still break you. "Next time you do that, I'll flip you over and beat your ass till its purple." Your breath hitched and as much as you were tempted, you wanted to be able to sit for a few days so you stayed put and kept your hands to yourself.

But the desperation was getting to you and you wanted relief which jaemin wasnt giving you until you felt his two fingers circling around your clit. "P-please jaemin." You moaned as he flicked your clit with his middle finger. Then soon enough he stuck two fingers inside you. Your pussy automatically clenching around his digits as he moved at a steady in and out pace.

It felt so good. His fingers felt so good. They made your body twist in pleasure as more moans left your mouth. Jaemin was watching your face closely as it contorted with pleasure. He loved seeing your eyebrows bunched together, so focused on the way his fingers worked inside you.

"My pretty slut. Taking nanas fingers so well." He gushed, still watching your face. Jaemin could feel himself get even more painfully hard but he didn't want to fuck you just yet. He meant it when he said he wanted you to cum 2 times. So he picked up the speed with his fingers, your hands landing on his forearm that was resting on near your hip. "Are you gonna cum for nana princess?"

You frantically nodded your head as a wave of pleasure washed over you. You could feel your cum leak out of you as jaemin leaned down and began eating away at your cunt.

"J-jaemin! So...go-good!" Your head flew back as his tongue sucked on your clit and a loud moan filled the room.

Jaemin smirked against your heat, "I haven't even fucked you yet and your already sounding like a dumb whore. Its so easy to break you princess."

"N-no its j-ju-...." you whimpered as your brain wasnt even trying to help you function right. His tongue was extraordinary. "Mmmm."

"Aw my dumb little princess is so cute." He muttered diving back into lapping at your soaked cunt. It was almost as if on cue and without warning, you were cumming again. Jaemins hasty tongue took it all. Groaning at the taste of you in his mouth.

He sat up over you, grabbing your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. You tasted yourself on his tongue. Deepening the kiss by grabbing the back of his hair, jaemin couldnt help but moan a bit as his cock brushed against your thigh. He felt big. Bigger than the few guys you've been with and you were ecstatic.

You tugged on jaemins pants and shirt as a way to tell him to take them off and he did after getting off of you and sitting on the edge of the bed. His abs were more defined than you thought and when his cock sprung free, your mouth started watering. Jaemins smirk only grew watching you stare. He was starting to get cocky

"What? You wanna suck my cock?" Jaemin asked sweetly.

"Yes please." You reached over to try and touch him but he didn't allow you. And smacked your hand away. It was a way for him to tease you and you hated it.

"So kind for nana now. Ealier you were so cock hungry that you decided to be a brat. Did nana finally break you?" Jaemin whispered as he moved a piece of hair out of your face, looking at you with fill admiration.

"No you didn't break me. But I wanna suck you off." You whined as jaemin picked you up and sat you just above his cock, the tip teasing at your entrance.

"Too bad. Now I want you to sit." Jaemin said looking into your eyes. You obeyed with a little hesitation. His cock was surely going to hurt you so you took it slowly and started lowering your hips. "Fuck...thats a good girl." Jaemin praised, watching his cock dissappear between your legs and your tummy get full with his cock. "My baby's so tiny you can see my cock in your belly." He said, pushing down on the area where he was imprinted in you.

Slowly you started moving, lifting your hips up and down. You were wet enough that he could easily slide in and out with no problem.

Jaemins head fell back as he sighed with relief, grunting as you picked up the pace, "So tight for nana." He whispered and you moaned back loudly. His cock stretched every inch of you to the point where it felt like you'd split.

"More more more." You whined against jaemins neck, gripping his shoulders tightly. Carefully jaemin flipped you both over so he was on top and continued pounding into your destroyed cunt. He kept a hand around your neck squeezing it every so often as a choked out moan left your throat.

His cock was so deep and fast that you couldn't think straight. You kept blabbering about his cock. Only thing on your mind was how nice he felt inside you. Jaemin bit his lip as he smirked at you, grabbing your hair and bringing your face close to his, "Now will you admit that I fucked you dumb and say your nanas dumb slut?"

"Y-yes, I'm na-nanas dumb sl-slut." You cried, tears falling down your face from how good he felt inside and if you thought jaemin couldn't go any faster, he did. His thrusts were hard and rough, sure enough to hurt your thighs tomorrow as he pounded relentlessly. "So close." Your voice came out choked as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You held on to jaemins hand that was on your neck as he helped you with your orgasm.

Jaemin wasnt far behind you with his and groaned loudly, "fuck, where do you want it princess?"

"I-inside." You moaned as the feeling of hot cum was shot inside you. Jaemins hips kept moving him through his orgasm until he slowly came to a stop. Both of you panted loudly, there were even a few tears falling down your cheek here and there.

Jaemin slowly pulled out, making sure not to hurt you, and he laid beside you. "You did so well." He kissed your forehead. "Cmon ill carry you to bathroom so we can take a bath." He said picking up your worn out naked figure with so much care. Making you forget he was your enemy.

[kayr0ss]

An Opinion

[LWA, Diakko, Fluff, Established Relationship, Akko Gets Glasses, Oh my God Help Diana] AO3 Link

Summary: Wherein Akko gets glasses and the matter of Diana's opinion on them is of utmost importance.

---

This was way past the point of deniability.

She didn’t think her vision was that bad, but after a quick trip to the optometrist and the shocking reveal of how sharp the world actually looked to everyone else it became crystal clear to Akko. Pun intended.

The glasses were here to stay whether she liked it or not.

Her typical walk through the eastern wing of the dormitories came with newfound wonder and clarity. It was like turning up the graphics setting of her favorite game to ‘Ultra’—you didn’t think about how much better it could get until you saw it! She could read the signages down the hall with little to no effort (she used to think they were just far away), and wondered if the view of the courtyard was always this good.

She was advised to break them in slowly, but after the initial dizziness of the first half-hour her eyes seem to have adjusted to them quite well. She huffed, wrinkling her nose. There was an odd feeling of weight on the bridge that was bothering her.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!”

Akko blinked, pulled out of her musings by a very confused Amanda.

“Something looks different.”

“You don’t say.” Akko laughed.

Amanda narrowed her eyes, gesturing all over her. “No! For real! Something is off. Why do you look smart?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Akko pouted.

“Shit, are those glasses?” Amanda leaned forward, smirking. “New look to woo a Cavendish heart?”

Akko giggled. “Don’t get me started on her. I’m probably going to get nagged because she was right about me reading in dim lighting this whole time.”

“Nah, I bet ten pounds she’ll say it’s cute.”

Akko shook her head with crossed arms. “Nope! I know better than to get into a bet with you.”

Amanda laughed. “Look at that, character development!”

“I now have all the wisdom that wire-framed lenses have to bring.” Akko said pointedly, throwing an exaggerated I’ve-got-my-eyes-on-you gesture towards her friend.

“I take that back though,” Amanda scratched at her chin, thinking. “She wouldn’t say ‘cute’, that’s too normal of a word. Bet she’d say some shit like ‘beauteous’ or something.”

“Wait—that’s a word?”

“Apparently!”

Akko shook her head. “She’d probably use something milder like ‘graceful.’”

“Radiant.”

“Comely?”

Amanda slyly raised an eyebrow. “Ravishing.”

Akko chortled, gently punching Amanda by the shoulder. “That’s it. Stop being mean to my girlfriend when she isn’t even here to defend herself.”

But their banter had left her with a light sense of curiosity. She strode towards the Blue Team dormitory with purpose, eager to collect Diana's most esteemed opinion.

---

“So I think it went better than expected!” Akko barged into Diana’s room with a skip in her step. “Well, in the sense that even though my eyesight did turn out to be bad it isn’t that bad. So no need for lenses like Professor Chariot’s—by Jennifer those lenses are thick. Like. Thick with two c’s kind of thick.”

Akko kicked off her shoes, tiptoeing on the carpet around Diana’s desk. She wrinkled her nose again—this is probably going to be a habit, huh—and continued with her rambling. “Anyway, I saw Amanda and she said it was weird that I looked smart which was totally uncalled for but also, like, is ‘beauteous’ really a word? And then we wondered—” Akko set down her things, taking off her travel coat and folding it neatly to settle on the foot of Diana’s bed. “—well,” she stuttered, wondering why it was that Diana seemed unable to even bother speaking up to say hello.

With a bit of flair and showmanship, she finally turned to face Diana.

“What do you think?”

At first she thought she was too busy studying to listen, but it seems Diana had been quietly looking at her the whole time.

“Diana?” Akko inquired softly, feeling self-conscious under the curious weight of her partner’s gaze.

Diana opened her mouth. Closed it. Blinked as if to shake herself out of a stupor, and then opened her mouth as though trying to say something again. All of this was accompanied by an endearing dusting of pink along her cheeks. Akko could see that she had dropped her attention in the middle of taking notes, the perfect script unraveling into a tapered line that ran towards the edge of the parchment.

“Uhm. Do you…” Akko rubbed at the back of her neck, smiling sheepishly. “…like it?”

Diana leaned back against her chair, turning to face Akko while reaching for the cuff of the younger witch’s sleeve. “A—” Diana began, blue eyes looking up to meet Akko’s but failing to complete her attempt at a sentence.

Akko furrowed her eyebrows. "You okay?"

The gentle grip on her sleeve was gone, replaced by a firmer one that pulled Akko in by the collar.

Oh!

“Dia?”

At eye-level with one another, Diana moved her hand up to brush against Akko cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before pulling her in gently, firmly, for a kiss.

Akko smiled against the woman’s lips, shoulders shaking in soft laughter because her glasses were awkward and inconvenient and very much in the way. But she kissed her back anyway, giggling and breathing in the moments in-between.

She pulled away. “So my guess is you like it.”

Diana's answer was to pull her back in.

She’d have to tell Amanda that neither of them were right—apparently Diana had nothing to say.

-

fin

-

A/N: Hello, I live. I'm always thinking of glasses Diana but now I am thinking of glasses Akko and if I could pull of writing a one shot where Diana doesn't even say a (full) word hehe