#yes big gifs of THIS particular moment is ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY ..... TO ME. FOR ME.
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"What do you really want? What do you want?"
TWINS (2023). Episode 3.
#twins#asianlgbtqdramas#asiandramasource#asiandramanet#dailyasiandramas#*#faiza gifs#yes big gifs of THIS particular moment is ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY ..... TO ME. FOR ME.#all this tension AND allllll this orange? FOR ME?#first plz put urself and ALL of us out of our collective misery and just SLAM sprite against the wall next time AND GIVE HIM SOME BACK#sprite LOVES rough-housery ... TRUST us.
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My Good Looking Boy - Part Four
warnings for series: angst, struggles with self worth and self esteem, issues with appearance, childhood trauma, and mentions of death and murder.
summary: taking place after the southern raiders, zuko and katara finally learn to understand each other a bit more and long held on to feelings come to the surface. the gaang go and watch the ember island play and chaos ensues with katara's feelings.
part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
author's note: and here comes part four! this is where the story really starts to take a turn, so thank you to all your patience, here is zutara and where she finally starts to (maybe?) understand her feelings. part five might take me a bit longer, i lowkey ran out of motivation so I haven't started it yet, but hopefully not too long. as always, please let me know what you think and enjoy!
also thank you so much for all the notes and reblogs on this story, I really appreciate all of it! <3
word count: 2.1k
Katara made her way downstairs fully dressed and hair tied neatly into a half top-knot. Her red two piece consisted of a tight, cropped tank top with flowy and breathable pants she had managed to snag from the old clothes left here. It was clearly designed for the frame of a teenage boy, so Katara chose to ignore what or rather who they were made for in favor of just enjoying the freedom they allowed.
She knew it would be her job today to gather what was necessary to feed the group, along with multiple other things, so she wanted to get that particular job done as soon as possible. Over the last few days, the comments made about her in the play affected her less and less. Yes, she did talk a lot about hope, isn’t it important to have hope during such a difficult time? And yes of course she did the housework, who else would? Pushing aside what had been on her mind, the conversation with Aang, she grabbed the basket next to the entrance and dug through the makeshift wallet to see if she could afford to go into town today and continue to save. Zuko and Toph were only able to save so much money, and Katara absolutely refused to let the kids continue with scamming people; it had turned out rather horribly for them in the past. With her nose to the wallet, her visibility was severely impaired and she slammed into a rock hard surface.
“Ow!” She yelped as she fell backwards, but she felt a hand grab her wrist and yank her back upright.
“Oh, sorry.” Zuko murmured, still holding her wrist.
“S’ok.” She whispered right back, frozen in place. He noticed that he was still holding on to her and flushed as he slipped his hand behind himself. In doing so, he examined her full outfit and his flush turned into his full face overheating. He recognized those pants quite easily after all.
“So, uh, where are you off to?” he choked out.
“Oh, well, the market. I think we have enough money to get some actual food.”
“That’s good.” It was painfully awkward. They stood there, each shuffling in place debating on their next words.
“You know-”
“I could-” They both began at the same time.
“Uh, sorry, you go first.” Katara mumbled, looking anywhere but the boy in front of her while a light dusting of pink covered her cheeks.
“I was just thinking, I’m done training Aang for today. I could come with you.” Opening her mouth, rejection her go-to response, she closed it, opting to think for a moment instead.
“You know what, why not.” She half-smiled up to him and he let his own hesitant smile crawl its way up. Walking side-by side they made their way down the dirt path towards the day market that was no doubt in full swing by now. “About the other night,” she began, “I never got to thank you. I’m sorry you had to see that but, uh, thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Katara. I told you before, I’ll always be there for you. No matter how big or small the issue is.” She smiled softly at him.
“And I’m sorry for assuming your childhood was, well, privileged.”
“I mean you’re partially right. I never had to worry about food or clothing, nothing money could buy anyway.”
“So then what was it? What put the idea in your head that you’re worthless Zuko.” Silence fell over them and the only sound noticeable was the crunch of the dirt and gravel beneath them as they continued to the village. “Oh, I’m sorry. I overstepped, didn't I?”
“No, you didn’t. It’s just hard to talk about. I don’t like to talk about it either.” Katara nodded in understanding and gently grasped his right hand in her left. Zuko dropped his eyes to look into hers, shocked she was finally accepting him and willing to listen. It was the first time he didn’t feel pity or condensation in someone’s gaze when this topic came around.
“Well, I’m here for you too, you know.” Silence. After a few minutes walking, he began.
“I spoke out of turn.” She turned to him and squeezed his hand as they kept walking to give him support. Tilting her head to the side, she made it clear she was listening. “A statesman, one with many years of service and honor, wanted to use a young squadron as a decoy. He wanted to sentence them all to death just so we would get the advantage in a battle with a surprise attack. I argued against it. I was only thirteen at the time, but it seemed like a perfectly logical thing to do, to speak for those boys who were unable to speak for themselves. But in speaking out of turn, I disrespected him, threatened him. He challenged me to an Agni Kai to learn respect.”
“An Agni Kai? You’ve mentioned that before.”
“Yes, it’s a battle between two firebenders. It’s meant to be life or death.” Katara tensed as anger began to rise in her.
“But you were so young.”
“It didn’t matter to him. I insulted his place of authority, so foolishly I agreed. I knew I could beat an old statesman so it didn't bother me.” He gripped Katara's hand harder as he continued. “But it wasn't him I had to fight in the Agni Kai. When I turned it was my father.” Katara’s breath hitched in horror. “He claimed by arguing in his war meeting I disrespected him more than the statesman.” He softly shook his head as he continued, “I refused to fight him, he thought that I was weak, a coward. So he gave me this.” He looked at her in the eyes and her own widened in horror. Her teeth ground as Katara felt rage like she’s never felt before. White, hot, outrage. The fact that Zuko had been burned was something she could make her peace with, everyone had their scars, visible or otherwise. But for a parent to do that to their child? She wanted to scream out in anger, to march into the palace at this moment and kill that man. But she knew Zuko didn’t need that right now, she knew he would only end up comforting her instead.
“I, I’m so sorry, Zuko. I never imagined.”
“I know, it's okay.” They began walking again in silence, but Katara’s hand never left his.
“I’m sorry I didn’t heal it, I don’t have the spirit water anymore otherwise I wouldn’t hesitate.” He hummed softly and rubbed his thumb over the top of hand.
“It's fine Katara, it wouldn’t fix anything. Just make me a little more easy on the eyes.” Katara stopped in the dirt road and Zuko only paused when he felt her hand leave his. “What’s wrong?” He frowned, turning to look back at her.
“You, don’t think you’re attractive?” He flushed in embarrassment and crossed his arms defensively over his chest.
“Well I mean, isn’t it obvious?” He left out a humorless laugh.
“I think you’re beautiful, Zuko.” It was just a whisper, but to him it felt like so much more. She was looking him dead in the eye, no hint of embarrassment or lie. He felt himself stop breathing. Not bearable, decent, hot, but beautiful. She thought he was beautiful. And for some reason this word shook him. His gut flipped nervously and he had to swallow down his tears that threatened to unleash at any moment.
“Well, thank you. Katara.” He said, his eyes still piercing into hers that kept their intensity. She simply nodded and gathered his hand back into hers as they continued their walk into town.
They were able to haul a decent amount of food back, as surprisingly Zuko was pretty good at haggling with the older merchants who ran the stalls of the day market. Even after such a heavy topic, Katara found herself watching him with pride. His ability to live and forgive, to be kind after suffering such horrific actions against him made her eyes twinkle with emotion. He carried the heavy basket all the way back and offered to help her with the cooking as well.
“I think you are officially the most helpful member of the group, Zuko. Thank you!” Katara spoke cheerfully as they boundered into the entrance of the summer home. Zuko smiled after her and gave a small chuckle.
“I think that’s my favorite title I’ve earned yet.” He put the woven basket down in the kitchen, he began unloading their haul into their proper places as Katara let out a breathy laugh and went to gather the new laundry. Thankfully, the rather large fountain on the property made it easy to wash all the clothes. The next thing she knew she was bending water into the dirty clothing and Zuko was bringing out the tea set the house had been equipped with. He placed the pot out on the edge of the fountain and began brewing her tea as Sokka and Suki came down from their bedroom.
“Good morning! I guess you guys went to the market huh? Couldn’t find you anywhere.” Suki mentioned and Katara nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, and Aang’s lesson with Toph should be over soon so I thought some tea would be nice.”
“I’m sure your hot leaf water will be greatly appreciated, Zuko.” Sokka teased and Katara frowned.
“You do realize he has helped more today than you’ve in the past two weeks, Sokka.” Sokka froze and Suki let out a loud and exuberant laugh.
“Since when are you defending him?!” He said with a high-pitched voice crack and Katara had to fight with herself to stop from laughing outright.
“I’m not defending him, it's just the truth Sokka! And even if I was, it doesn’t matter.” Sokka’s mouth dropped in shock.
“I think she’s right, you guys really need to help out more. She’s always doing all the housework.” Suki mentioned as she took a small cup of piping hot tea from Zuko. Sokka let out multiple gargled and disgruntled sounds with a small “you don’t help either Suki!” while she yanked him down to sit and hushed him.
“Oh hey sugar queen, sparky.” Toph joked as she and Aang returned from their earthbending practice.
“Oh tea! Thanks Zuko!” Aang cheered, after a long morning of practice he must be exhausted and grateful for the break.
“Here, Aang.” Katara reached over to grab some bread she had been able to get at the market. “Relax and keep your strength up, we still have our lesson.” she smiled down at him and his apprehensive smile brightened quickly. Katara knew she couldn’t let personal issues get in the way of her teaching Aang, the world being at stake was of far greater importance than her confusing feelings. Zuko took a seat next to her and handed her a cup of tea, to which she smiled warmly at him and thanked him for.
“No seriously Katara, did something happen? Cause I swear, even after your guys’ trip you weren’t this buddy-buddy.” Sokka finished with Suki elbowing him in the side and him huffing out an exasperated “what?” to her. Zuko tensed up, his grip on his tea strained and contemplated grabbing Katara right then and there to stop her from saying anything. But she made her decision before he could.
“Oh be quiet, Sokka. We aren’t ‘buddy-buddy’, and nothing happened. Gosh, would you give it a rest?” She huffed and crossed her arms in an irritated fashion. Zuko visibly relaxed and took a long sip of his tea, shooting Katara a grateful smile. She knew he would tell the others in his own time and resolved to let it happen naturally versus forcing him to have that conversation right now.
“Karara!” Aaang, called out after gulping down most of his tea. She perked up at his voice, “Let’s start training now.” He smiled and she nodded in response, promising she’ll be back in time to cook dinner.
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A half-naked Wolffe!
I don't know why but this made me chuckle (the gif paired with it made it even more memorable)! That scene was so fun to write. Kazi realizing that Wolffe is attractive, feeling overwhelmed at the thought, Wolffe teasing her about staring and her immediately getting defensive and changing topics--they're such a fun duo to write. I imagine Wolffe in this moment feeling very smug about Kazi staring at him (he's confident enough to know he's good looking but it's also gratifying to have the woman he's interested in checking him out haha).
Something softer!! He was got! He was got that she thought about him enough to want to help him with his garden, so she went to the trouble of asking someone for help. Then she got the fertilizer... That's BIG!! Maybe she doesn't want to think it's big, but it seems big to me. And I'd say it seemed big to Wolffe.
I would argue this was HUGE for Wolffe. Someone noticed him and his hobby and took the time to do something helpful for him? Sure, he can expect that from his brothers. But Kazi doing it? It's meaningful to him.
And he was taking longer than necessary on purpose. God, I love him.
I get so excited when other people say that they found this scene hot! If I can be biased, this is probably my favorite "romantic" scene. I love the tension, I love Kazi giving Wolffe permission to touch her (and him asking for it first!), and Wolffe touching her shoulder and neck after finishing with the strings. This scene, for me, is hotter than any smut scene I've written haha. Anyway, I'm so glad the tension came through for you! Your gifs and reactions are priceless!
There is something about grown men kneeling down to try to be on the same level with little kids that just does me in.
Same. It makes me feel very soft. And knowing how far Neyti has come with the men but Wolffe in particular--that she wanted to give him a gift. They own me.
But then I was thinking...he probably got those there, that day. After Neyti (she) had already given him the fruit. And after she said she got him the fertilizer? She did give him stuff. So why are you saying you didn't get him anything. You have. Just take it, dammit!
A few things here: 1) Wolffe bought these back in Chapter XI! In A Muse II, the Dancing Dragons notice him holding three packets of seeds. So he's had these in store for a while, he's merely been waiting for the right moment to deliver them :) (And since you've read the end, I can spoil things: He bought the seed packets because in Ceaian custom, a man buys a woman flowers when he's wanting to court her. But, since Kazi freaks out easily and he knows this, Wolffe decided to use the Harvest Festival as a front for giving her the packet, even if it is intended as a courting gesture.)
2) Kazi does this a lot where she thinks she's not "performing" well! She does it again in Chapter XIX where she mentions how she buys Wolffe flowers, but gets upset that she's not doing enough for him when he makes her breakfast. Her brain tricks her into believing that what she's done isn't enough, and so she forgets, in a sense, the nice things she has done for him.
And I don't see that as being rude or possessive. I see that as him letting her know, I'm here to help you. Let me help you. It was protective, not possessive. (Or that's how I saw it anyway.)
You're absolutely right! It was never a possessive move on Wolffe's part. It wasn't like he was "claiming" Kazi and telling Jason to back off. He knew Kazi was uncomfortable and he was offering her comfort in a physical form. He was reminding her that he was there, that she wasn't alone, that he had her back if she needed it.
You are one of the most frustrating people I know!!! But then, as soon as he thought there was danger:
Yes--so many emotions for Wolffe in this moment. Frustrated that Kazi refuses to acknowledge that something is happening between them. Disappointed that she doesn't see him when all he's wanted is for someone to look past the soldier and see the man within. Embarrassed because the fireworks caught him off guard and he reacted instinctively. But mostly hurt--hurt that he thought she felt for him the same way he felt for her. (This actually makes me eager to write Wolffe's POV because his thoughts are all about how he doesn't think he deserves real love because he's just a soldier; so in this moment, he's convincing himself that he was stupid to even believe that he could experience something with Kazi. That this is proof that his purpose in life is to be a soldier and nothing more.)
I Yearn, and so I Fear - Chapter XIII
Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
General Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers.
Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC
General Warnings. Canon-typical violence and assault, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death. This story deals with heavy content. If you’re easily triggered, please do not read. For a more comprehensive list of tags, click here.
Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.
Chapter Word Count. 6.2K
6 Yelona
Attraction wasn’t something Kazi experienced from physical appearance.
Obviously, she appreciated the physicality of certain men—the proportions of their body, certain features, healthy fat distribution. She knew physically attractive men existed.
However, true attraction, for her, followed a set of steps.
The first step: respect. Even the most physically attractive man lost all appeal if he was neither respectful nor respectable. A man who proved himself worthy of her respect—who demonstrated integrity, honesty, reliability���was a man she could then trust.
Thus, the second step.
It was trust that quieted the logical part of her brain and allowed her to access the emotional side. Only then could she determine a man’s attractiveness.
As was her current dilemma.
Frozen between the partition of the living area and the sunroom, Kazi blinked at the sight before her. Specifically the half-naked man in her kitchen.
Damp from her shortened swim—menstrual cramps forced her to quit the lake early—she didn’t know what to do.
In the kitchen, Wolffe was preparing the lumina berries. The same berries she had prepared for months before he decided to intercede. They hadn’t discussed it. Each morning, when she retrieved the individual bowls of sliced and chunked berries, she didn’t question their prepared state and Wolffe pretended nothing was amiss.
Something about the situation felt significant. So Kazi ignored it.
Except she couldn’t ignore it in this moment. Because her damn cramps had deviated her from her meticulously-structured routine.
Now she not only had confirmation Wolffe was the perpetrator of the prepared berries, but she also learned something new: He worked in the kitchen shirtless.
His physical state was hardly a problem. The main level was a shared space, and he clearly had his own morning routine separate from their brief overlap. He was allowed to exist in the kitchen in whatever physical capacity he felt comfortable.
But she hadn’t expected him to be shirtless.
Consternation twisted alongside her worsening cramps.
Maybe she should wait on the back porch for twenty minutes and then return when she was expected. They could continue to pretend that he didn’t prepare the berries—
“Ennari?”
Fuck.
Pretending she hadn’t stood beneath the partition for minutes debating whether or not she should hide outside, Kazi approached the kitchen. Wolffe observed her through narrowed eyes, arms folded across his chest. The moment she reached the bar—their positions switched from their usual routine—he glanced at the chrono on the wall. His shoulders stiffened slightly.
“I couldn’t swim any longer,” Kazi said. Her tone carried an apologetic note and she nearly rolled her eyes. They were adults; they could discuss the berry situation maturely.
Beneath the intensity of his gaze, her face felt warm. Too warm.
She decided she didn’t want to discuss the berry situation.
“I think I’m going to go into work earlier.” She played with the tucked flap of her towel. “I’ll take off early so Neyti can see the beginning of the Festival. Fehr said it’s something kids like.”
Wolffe leaned against the counter, the move unhurried and just as effortless as his appearance. Her eyes flitted down his body in a quick assessment.
“Do you want me to take Neyti to school?”
Healthy fat padded his stomach muscles. Dark hair trailed from his lower stomach to his gray sweats. Lines cut into his hips.
“Ennari.”
“You want to take Neyti to school?” she said slowly.
The corner of his lip twitched. “That’s what I said.”
She frowned. “Why would you do that?”
“You said you’re going into work early.” An arrogant smirk curved his mouth. Amusement lit his features. “Are you feeling alright? Temperature too warm?”
Throwing him a bland look, she nodded at the berries. “Why do you prepare those every morning?”
Former amusement darkened into discomfort. A muscle flexed in his jaw and Wolffe stilled, a subtle warning in his face.
“I’m more than capable of preparing breakfast for Neyti and myself,” she added.
A taunt underscored her blasé tone, and Wolffe breathed a low chuckle. He ran his tongue along his teeth, regarding her with a calculated look that made her blood heat.
“Answer my question,” he finally said. “Do you want me to take Neyti to school?”
She rubbed her arm. “If you don’t mind—”
“I don’t.”
“Thank you.” She tilted her head to the side, quirking an eyebrow. “Now answer my question.”
“No.” Wolffe turned away, retrieving the knife he had set aside, and concentrated on the lumina berries.
Kazi glowered at the sculpted planes of his back.
Muscles lined his shoulders and arms. Muscles that spoke to years of arduous training. His back was a map of physical adeptness sketched with an array of white and faded scars. Black ink encircled his left arm from wrist to shoulder, its design purposeful.
“Why not?” she demanded. “Maybe I should make your caf and see how you like my interference—”
“Drop it.”
Wolffe scowled at her over his shoulder. The muscles along his body were tensed, and he exhaled a harsh breath, setting aside the knife and closing the space between them. He stopped before her.
Her heart stuttered in her chest. Droplets of water fell from her hair and shivered down her overheated skin.
Lowering his face to hers, Wolffe calmly, quietly said, “You’re not ready for that conversation.”
With that, he sidestepped her and approached the bookcase.
Bewildered, she stared at his retreating body. “What does that even mean?” He ignored her and she scoffed. “You can’t just leave in the middle of a conversation—”
The white, peeling bookcase snapped back in place. Her dragon figurine, its scales blacker than a stormy night, regarded her, its maw parted in a teasing grin, like it shared in a secret she didn’t yet know.
Early evening sunlight emphasized the charcoal lines of Neyti’s sketch.
The scratching noise of the little girl’s stylus filled the silence of the main level. Wiping down the kitchen’s counters—a last-minute decision to try and calm her nerves concerning the upcoming Festival—Kazi washed her hands and then leaned against the counter.
From her vantage point, she watched Neyti sketch. Her tongue poked out the side of her mouth as she corrected the finer details of a young boy’s face.
Who the boy was, Kazi didn’t know. Though she had a sneaking suspicion based on the scar on his chin.
Her gaze slid to the kitchen windows. Outside, a downed tree rested along the jungle’s border. Fox had spent the entire afternoon felling the tree and then lugging it back to the house. Its purpose eluded Kazi, and he refused to answer her questions, but he seemed to have found a new project outside of his usual carvings.
A glance at the chrono confirmed it was still too early to leave for the Festival. Half an hour remained.
Originally, Kazi wanted to avoid the Festival’s festivities and locals. Years had passed since she last attended a holiday celebration and she wasn’t keen to begin anew. Large crowds, drunk people, tight spaces. It lacked appeal.
But a majority of the locals would attend, including Neyti’s classmates, and Kazi wanted Neyti to experience something outside the mundane of everyday life. Even if these festivities differed from Ceaian tradition.
Still, she found herself rubbing her clammy palms together to stifle her apprehension. This was an opportunity to socialize. To interact with Neyti’s classmates’ parents and make a good impression, an impression that would reflect positively on Neyti.
The simple dress she wore—cream colored and decorated with abstract floral designs—was light and airy, its style recommended by Fehr to “blend in” with the locals. The thin material hugged her waist, falling to her upper thigh. She hadn’t worn a dress in a long time, and she had forgotten how much she liked them.
Then again, her first partner loved when she wore dresses. She was a body to be perceived. A younger body. A younger body for the male nearly two decades her senior to look at and touch and fuck—
Stiffening, Kazi glanced at the chrono again. They still had twenty-seven minutes until they needed to leave.
Running her hands down her dress, she decided its straps were too uneven. The left side was too tight. She untied the thin strings of her strap and readjusted.
The positioning was awkward, the readjustment difficult, and sweat started to slick her spine. Frustration clenched her jaw. She blew a loose strand of hair from her face. A finishing bow completed the knot.
The damned strings remained uneven. She tried again.
Her appearance tonight mattered—professional yet friendly, more easy-going than aloof. She needed to be composed, a good listener with witty remarks. She needed to be warm and approachable. She needed to be perfect. And she should eat before so no one saw her—
The bookcase swung open.
Tensed and flustered, Kazi regarded Wolffe as he emerged from the steep stairs. Water shimmered in his dark curls and his face looked dewy, freshly moisturized from a shower. He wore his usual attire, and a dark gray poncho rested in the crook of his elbow.
Pausing her failed attempts, she glanced at his poncho. “Are you joining us?”
“Fox is paranoid with safety concerns.” Wolffe rolled his eyes. Kazi pursed her lips to smother her amusement, deciding against mentioning his blatant hypocrisy. “Cody and I agree he’s being unreasonable. We’re all going.”
“Oh.” A hint of relief quieted her former nerves. She looked him over. “Have you ever been to a Harvest Festival? Or any holiday celebration, for that matter?”
The corner of his lip quirked. “Never.”
Trying to casually correct her dress’ strings, she asked, “What holidays do you celebrate?”
“Dunno. It’s never crossed my mind before.”
The barest perceptible amusement dried his words. He took a step closer.
“By the way,” she said conversationally, hoping he didn’t notice her inability to fix her dress. “I stopped by the Marketplace and picked up a seedling fertilizer.”
Another step closer and Wolffe frowned. “Seedling fertilizer?”
“For your garden.” His confused silence demanded an answer and she shrugged. “I noticed some of your plants have dry patches so I asked one of the parents at Neyti’s school for advice. He’s a farmer, and he told me the problem most likely derives from the intensity of the sun’s rays. So he recommended this fertilizer. Like sunscreen, but for plants.”
Sometime from when she first started speaking to now, Wolffe had closed the distance between them. He stood as close as he had that morning. Close enough individual water droplets in his curls caught her attention.
Bemusement scrunched his features. “You got fertilizer for my garden?”
It was her turn to frown. “Yes?”
“I’m surprised you thought of me.” The confession was quiet, carrying an undertone of surprise and something softer. Wolffe searched her face and then dipped his chin to her shoulder. “May I?”
The rasp in his voice slid down her spine like a rough caress. Her nod derived mostly from shock at his offer rather than actual acceptance, and though they already stood so close, Wolffe closed the little distance remaining.
Warm knuckles grazed the top of her shoulder. Her heart skipped a beat and she bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to keep still.
Wolffe looped the strings of her dress in a methodical approach. His movements were unhurried, intentionally slow, as if he were uncomfortable tying the strings. But she had seen him work in his garden, seen him slice the lumina berries, seen him fix things that required a careful, practiced touch. His fingers were deft in their capabilities, and he was more than capable in tying her dress.
Each skim of a knuckle to her bare shoulder heated her blood. She fought the urge to shiver.
“I can’t believe you’ve never celebrated any holidays,” she murmured.
His fingers stilled for a moment and then resumed. “We didn’t have that sort of luxury.”
Tensing at the curtness in his tone, she flattened her palm to the counter, soaking in its coolness. Wolffe sighed, his exhale somewhat annoyed. A slow, controlled caress of his hand brushed along her shoulder and behind her neck, as if he were trying to smooth away her tension.
Her fingers curled into the chilled counter.
“Holidays were meaningful to my family and me,” she said, watching the evening sunlight flit across the walls. “They’re some of my best memories with my parents. I can’t imagine growing up without them.”
“I didn’t have much of a childhood.”
“No, I guess you didn’t.”
A gentle tug and the white strings were tied, completed in a tiny bow matching the other. Prepared to thank him, Kazi turned around but her words faltered.
Their chests were brushing. The heat of his body sunk into hers. She could see a faded scar indented into the dark skin above his lip. The top clasps of his button-down work shirt were unfastened, and she thought back to that morning. Thought about the muscles toning healthy fat and the trail of dark hair down his stomach.
A fleeting desire encouraged her to press her hand to his chest. To feel the beat of his heart and the heat of his skin.
Ignoring the thought, she angled her head back to meet his gaze.
Thick lashes framed his eyes and he blinked at her, unrushed yet assessing. His gaze dipped from hers to her shoulder, hesitation lined his features, and she understood why a second later when he tentatively flattened his hand to her shoulder, his thumb circling her skin in an agonizingly slow caress. He studied her in a private, intimate manner.
Disquiet ghosted down her spine and she swallowed.
A piece of her wanted him to touch her more. To slip her dress’s straps from her shoulders and touch the bare skin it revealed.
A piece of her wanted him to lower his calloused hand to her breast and feel her. To slide his hands down her spine and hold her close, hold her tight enough she couldn’t run.
But another piece of her feared those wants.
Touching turned into nakedness, turned into sex, and sex hurt.
And even though it had been five years, she remembered the pain. She remembered her stupid hope it would feel better the more she did it, and the resigned agony when it didn’t.
She was scared to be intimate with another man, and she was even more scared of disappointing someone she wanted to be with.
It was all so stupid to consider, anyway.
There was nothing between her and Wolffe. She was overreacting. Creating a false narrative because she hadn’t felt a man’s touch like this before.
Wolffe brushed his thumb along her shoulder to her collarbone. His eyes shifted from hers, to her lips, and back.
All she could remember was the pain. The way her body never adjusted and the shame she endured knowing something was wrong with her—
“Neyti!”
Her exclamation earned a nonplussed jerk from Wolffe. Disregarding the confusion on his face and the silent question in the narrowing of his eyes, Kazi stepped away from his touch. From him. His fingers twitched once but he immediately released her. He backed away to the opposite counter, his expression guarded, and crossed his arms.
Kazi looked toward the table, to the little girl. To her salvation. Neyti stared curiously at her, and she mustered a tight smile.
“Do you want to get your gifts?”
A toothless yet excited grin lit Neyti’s face and she closed her sketchbook, hurrying toward the garage. Reemerging with a meshed bag, she cautiously approached Wolffe. He cocked his head to the side. A tiny hand disappeared into the bag and returned with a pale orange, tear-drop shaped fruit.
Wolffe considered the outstretched fruit. Hesitation lined his features but soon softened, and to Kazi’s surprise, he knelt before Neyti, the height difference between him and the little girl humorously noticeable.
With a small smile, he accepted the fruit, murmuring a quiet “Thank you.”
Bashfully, Neyti hid her face in her shoulder and retreated to Kazi’s side.
“It was Neyti’s idea,” Kazi said, running a hand through Neyti’s hair. Wolffe returned to his full height, peeling the fruit. He regarded her with a careful expression, and she tried not to blush. “It is tradition, after all.”
Either oblivious to the lie or uncaring of it, Neyti hefted the bag higher. Kazi released a mirthful chuckle and gestured for Neyti to lead the way outside. She pretended she didn’t see the knowing look Wolffe levelled on her—the look that clearly said It wasn’t the kid’s idea.
Outside, Kazi oversaw Neyti gift Fox, Cody, and Nova a citrus-star. Their confusion led to her retelling the tradition, and each of them shared a piece of their citrus-star with Neyti who dutifully ate her share.
The sun continued its downward arc, settling behind the jungle’s rolling hills, the sky a burnished copper.
Aware of the waning time, Kazi ushered everyone back inside. Neyti returned to her sketch while the men prepared for the Festival.
The brief lull gave Kazi the opportunity to check on Daria, her sister suffering a migraine. A symptom Healer Natasha claimed was normal for this stage. Still, she worried Daria’s lack of proper medication the last few months had accelerated her disease past a point of medicinal control.
Closed shades darkened Daria’s room. A handful of seconds passed as Kazi grew accustomed to the darkness, discerning her sister from the lump of bed sheets and quilt.
“Do you need any pain relief?” she asked softly, stepping next to the bed.
Lying on her side, staring vacantly at the opposite wall, Daria shook her head.
Kazi scanned her sister’s room, noting the new succulent she had gifted Daria. The plant was a random purchase from the Marketplace last week when she bought the citrus-stars.
A blue stem with a handful of dark purple blossoms, the tiny plant provided a splash of color among the dominantly green succulents. She was surprised her sister had grouped the new succulent with the others. Daria preferred aesthetic organization and the succulent’s random coloration disrupted the cohesiveness of the grouped plants.
Awkwardly fiddling with a braid, Kazi offered Daria the final citrus-star from the bunch. “I know it’s not Ceaia’s harvest time, but I thought we could celebrate.”
Silence succeeded her offer, fermenting like an unwanted stench. She searched her sister’s face—for a twinge of acknowledgement or kindness or ephemeral interest—but Daria remained unmoving, apathetically disinterested.
“I can peel it,” Kazi said, “and we could share it.”
Finally, Daria shifted her attention from the blank wall to the citrus-star. For a stilted moment, she observed the fruit. Her upper lip curled and she turned away, pulling the thick quilt around her shoulders. “I’m not interested in meaningless gifts.”
Dropping her hand to her side, Kazi accepted the dismissal with a resigned nod.
It was a pathetic attempt on her part, anyway.
Eight bonfires blazed among the ferny clearing of Hollow’s Town’s park. The night sky was clear and stars shimmered their mirth alongside the floating lights strung along and between thick trees.
People milled about, laughter a harmony to the twangy music of the band.
A maypole adorned with bioluminescent silver flowers and strung with streamers of dark green and blue stood as a focal point. The sprouted flowers revealed a honeyed center. Their color and unique petals drew Neyti to them like a bee to pollen.
Glasses of ale—a staple from the local brewery—were passed among patrons. Tables boasted various competitions: the largest vegetable, the best-tasting fruit, the most unique crossbreed, the best presentation.
Carnival games—droid darts, planetary ring toss, vibroblade throws—garnered the attention of younglings and competitive adults alike.
Near an outer bonfire, Kazi smothered her amusement as she watched Cody and Fox compete at a vibroblade throw game. Nova watched from the side, waiting to play whoever won. According to Wolffe, he was the best at handling blades.
Though Nova appeared at ease, his eyes darted across the park, a hand casually resting against the blaster strapped to his thigh and hidden beneath his poncho. The other men each carried as well. And while their moods were sportive, their vigilance was unwavering.
Sipping from her glass of ale, Kazi wrinkled her nose. Wolffe snorted and she scowled at him.
“I don’t understand why you bother with it if you don’t like it,” he said, drinking from his own glass. He seemed to like the ale, judging by the fact this was his fourth glass.
“It’s not bad,” she said.
Wolffe’s unimpressed look called her bluff.
The truth: One of Neyti’s classmate’s mother offered her the glass. Wanting to appear friendly and personable, Kazi accepted the drink and then joined the woman, whose name evaded her, and a few others in conversation.
The parents were either self-centered about their younglings, or disappointed, reverting to patronizing jokes to hide their own frustrations. Slow sips of her ale resulted in her downing half the glass by the time she caught sight of Wolffe and excused herself from the group.
A quick scan of the field revealed Neyti playing a hopping game with one of her classmates. Based on her concentration, she had no plans to lose.
“Cody mentioned you might not join the upcoming mission,” Kazi said, returning her attention to Wolffe.
He straightened, rolling his shoulders back. “I’m considering it.”
His guarded demeanor told her he wouldn’t answer more questions about it, so she switched topics.
“I have time off from work in three days.” Pretending to study the amber ale in her glass, she slid a sidelong glance in his direction. “I was planning on taking Neyti hiking. If you don’t go on the mission, you could join us.”
Originally, she wasn’t going to invite him. There was a line she didn’t want to cross, a professional boundary, and, if she were being honest with herself, she didn’t want to endure his possible rejection. But a part of her was hoping he wouldn’t mind spending time outside the house with her and Neyti.
Wolffe blinked his surprise. Kazi steadied herself for the rejection—
“I’ll be there.”
Shock coursed through her veins, but she kept her features neutral, instead, smiling smally and nodding her acknowledgement. A service droid passed by and she set aside her half-finished drink, Wolffe doing the same. She glanced at Cody and Nova who were taking turns at the vibroblades.
“You didn’t want to compete against them?” she asked. “Too afraid you’d lose?”
A slow smirk spread across his face. “I know how to play to my strengths. And I don’t lose, Ennari.”
For some reason, his words sounded like a warning and she searched his face for the answer to a question she didn’t yet know. His gaze burned hot against hers. Hotter than the nearby bonfire; hotter than the ale she had managed to keep down.
She wanted to look away; she wanted to step into him; she wanted to change the subject; she wanted to lift her hand to his face and trace his rounded jawline; she wanted to run.
Too many conflicting thoughts and emotions fought within her. She didn’t know which to heed.
To her relief and disappointment, Wolffe broke their stare, reaching into a pocket of his trousers. He retrieved a small, dark brown packet. Hesitation squared his shoulders and he cleared his throat, extending the packet to her.
“They’re seeds,” he said.
“Seeds?” He nodded as she appraised the packet. “For what?”
“You said it’s tradition.” He looked mildly embarrassed, awkward. With another clearing of his throat, he reached for her hand. “They’re for you.”
She jerked her hand away, shaking her head. “But I didn’t get you anything.”
Wolffe frowned. “I don’t care—”
“I don’t want them.” Her words came out antagonistic and rude. She winced.
The packet of seeds breached the space between them. Wolffe narrowed his eyes and she looked away.
It was thoughtful. Too thoughtful. If she had known he was getting her something she would have prepared. She would have bought him something.
“I didn’t get you anything,” she repeated, rubbing her chest to quiet her unease. “I’m sorry.”
“I have a hard time believing Neyti was that thoughtful with her gift.” Wolffe scoffed, a hard edge to his voice.
Tension pinched her skin and Kazi shook her head, trying to think. Trying to rein her growing emotions.
The smoke from the bonfire was too suffocating.
Harsh laughter and squeals of younglings pounded inside her head.
She rubbed her hands together, hugging her arms to her stomach.
She stared at the packet of seeds. Her muscles were too cramped. Too tight.
Huffing an unamused breath, Wolffe reached for her hand again, and when she tried to pull away, he gripped her tighter, placing the packet of seeds in her palm.
“I got this without the intention of receiving a gift in return,” he said, curling her fingers around the packet. “They cost me nothing.”
“It’s the thought behind the gift,” she murmured. His thumb stroked the back of her hand, swift and light, before he released her. She swallowed. “Thank you.”
He gave a short nod.
She lifted the packet to the fire, trying to see inside. “Are they seeds for a vegetable or fruit?”
“Plant them and you’ll find out.”
Pocketing the seeds, she tried to read his expression. His disgruntled scowl told her he hadn’t expected her reaction, and he was annoyed. Or disappointed. Probably both.
Chagrined, she dropped her gaze to the crackling logs of the fire. The snaps of the burning logs sounded like chattering skeletons teasing her. They told her what she already knew: She had overreacted.
It wasn’t a surprise. She tended to overreact when she believed she wasn’t doing enough—being enough.
But gift-giving on Ceaia—between a non-related male and female—was considered a mark of courtship. Usually, the gift presented was a collection of three flowers, each representing a distinguishing personality trait.
The custom was old but Kazi had found it somewhat endearing. One of the few customs she appreciated.
“Thank you,” she repeated. Her eyes remained on his, and she hoped he could at least hear the sincerity in her voice—the vulnerability and gratitude.
He stepped closer. “I have a packet—”
“Kazi?”
The male voice startled her enough she flinched, spinning around to face the person. An orange glow from the bonfire’s flames licked at the approaching male. A few confident strides closer and she made out light brown hair, darker skin, and an impeccably tailored suit.
The name popped into her head. “Jason.”
Jason smiled. “You remembered.”
It wasn’t an impressive feat.
From the networking events, balls, and cocktail parties her mother forced her and Daria to attend, Kazi was accustomed to memorizing names, businesses, and every bit of gossip she overheard. Her mind contained a bookshelf of categorized, useless facts concerning certain individuals. It didn’t matter how many years passed, she remembered the most minute details.
And it was one of the reasons she excelled at analytics.
“I’m surprised you remember me,” she said, considering Jason warily.
“It’s hard to forget someone like you.”
The muted scoff from behind reminded her of their audience and she forced a tight smile. Jason’s gaze remained on her face, not even bothering with Wolffe.
“I’ve been wanting to speak with you. To apologize.” Jason took a step closer, a grimace on his face. “It was my understanding you had agreed to our dinner. It wasn’t my intention to blindside you.”
Wincing at the memory, Kazi clasped her hands behind her back. Her fingers brushed against a pair of trousers and her cheeks warmed.
“I was caught off-guard,” she said. Keenly aware of the quiet man to her back and the one who stood a bit too close in front, she released an awkward laugh. “Well, it was nice to see you—”
“I was wondering…” Jason tossed her a sheepish grin. “Would you be interested in stepping away and getting a drink?”
Either Jason lacked basic observational skills or he was self-assured enough he didn’t care about Wolffe’s presence.
Softening her smile, she started to shake her head. “Thank you, but—”
“I don’t want to be too forward,” Jason interrupted, “but I was interested by you at dinner. I would like to start over.”
“Oh?” Kazi breathed a dismayed chuckle. “I thought I was antagonistic and rude.”
He laughed. “You were quiet, but I didn’t take it to be antagonistic.”
Polite earnestness crinkled his eyes and she internally grimaced. The need for distance encouraged her to step back, to allow some breathing room between her and Jason’s advances. She backed into something hard.
Wolffe didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch at the connection between their bodies.
To her utter perplexity, he pressed closer, the heat of his chest palpable through her loose sweater. A graze of his fingers on her elbow seemed his attempt to remind her he was there.
Her movement finally drew Jason’s attention to Wolffe. Lacking suspicion or annoyance, Jason scanned Wolffe with an air of indifference.
Kazi had seen those looks at the few marriage balls she attended. A perusal of one suitor to determine if another suitor was a threat or could be turned into an ally. A perusal to assess the situation and determine if a woman could be convinced away from the suitor currently courting her.
Obviously, the comparison was an exaggeration since Wolffe wasn’t courting her. But Jason didn’t know that.
Straightening, Kazi inclined her head to Jason.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not interested in exploring anything at this time.” Her tone remained kind, practiced. “I have duties that require my attention and I don’t have the time or the capacity to pursue something.”
Though somewhat crestfallen, Jason accepted her rejection with an air of grace. His smile, while disappointed, was understanding.
“Raising a youngling does require time and attention,” he said. His gaze shifted between her and Wolffe. “I wish you both the best of luck.”
“Oh—no.” Kazi moved away from Wolffe. Her laugh was strained as she looked between a wary Wolffe and a confused Jason. “We’re not—no. It’s just my sister, Neyti, and me.”
Jason blinked his surprise. “Apologies, I must have misunderstood.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “It was nice seeing you.”
As soon as the night’s shadows engulfed Jason, Kazi released a shaky breath.
The air between her and Wolffe thickened with an awkwardness heated by the nearest bonfire. A lick of sweat dribbled down her spine and she lifted her hair off her neck in an attempt to cool her body.
Beneath the orange light of the bonfire, she regarded Wolffe. His brows were drawn together in calculation, and his mouth was downturned in disapproval. Or maybe it was doubt.
A pop from the bonfire jumped her heart and she released her hair, rubbing her hands together. An odd amount of tension was pulling taut in her shoulders, knotting in her stomach. She needed to move. To do something to escape the awkward development—
“Is that a common occurrence?”
The gruff question yanked her from her thoughts and she frowned. “What?”
“Arranged marriage dates.” Wolffe sounded offended by the words.
“No. Not for me, at least.” The hard look in his face demanded further explanation and she sighed. “It’s tradition on Ceaia and some other planets in the Outer Rim. It’s not as common out here as it is in the Inner Rim.”
At a table nearby, she caught sight of his brothers. Hoods covered their faces as they listened to a handful of drunks slurring stories of exaggerated adventures. A hasty survey of the clearing located Neyti. The little girl stood beside the maypole, playing a bag-toss game with a boy her age.
“Some people don’t know any better,” she said, nudging a few pieces of ash that had landed at her feet. “When you’re raised that way from birth, it seems normal and acceptable. But I didn’t grow up that way. At least, not initially. When my father died, my mother forced Daria and me into that lifestyle, but I never liked it.”
“Your sister subscribes to it.”
Kazi scoffed. “My mother’s doing. Daria was so young when our father died and she was always closer to our mother. She didn’t know any better. But I struggled. The thought of an arranged marriage scared me. I wanted something—”
She cut off, biting the inside of her cheek. Her aspirations in a partner weren’t his business.
“You wanted something real,” Wolffe continued for her. And though he said it like a statement, it was underscored by a question. Curiosity.
“Customary courtship determines if people are compatible for marriage,” she said. “And while I agree it’s necessary to determine if you and your partner are compatible in life, traditional compatibility is based on physical appeal and what a partner can offer, completely ignorant of one’s personal beliefs, morals, and ambitions. It emphasizes duty, and ignores emotional connection. It’s not what I want.”
They stood much closer, once more. She could see the reflection of the bonfire’s flames in his cybernetic. If she wanted, she could lean forward and rest her forehead against his chest.
“And what do you want?”
“I…” The weight of his gaze bore into hers, like the endless crush of a hurricane’s waves, surrounding and drowning. She shook her head. “I need to concentrate on Neyti and Daria. I don’t have time for superficiality.”
“Try again, Ennari.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Like I told Jason—”
“He’s a stranger.” Wolffe cocked his head to the side. “I’m not.”
“It doesn’t matter. My answer is the same. I don’t have time for superficiality—”
“And if it’s not superficial?”
Huffing her exasperation, she scanned the ferny clearing. “I haven’t met someone like that, so I don’t know.”
Wolffe was silent for a moment too long. “You haven’t met someone because you won’t allow yourself to get close to them.”
“Excuse me?”
“Tell me I’m wrong, Ennari.”
She clenched her fists. “You don’t know me.”
“I know you better than you think.”
“Then you should know I have more important things to do than waste my time on a male.”
“Waste your time?” Wolffe demanded.
“What decent males are there?” She threw her hands up. “They’re all a waste of my time.”
Scoffing, Wolffe looked away, toward the bonfire. Agitation flexed in the hand he dragged through his hair. Annoyance flared in his nostrils as he settled a hard, disbelieving scowl in her direction.
“You are one of the most frustrating people I know.”
Offended, she glared at him. “What have I done to annoy you?”
“I would like to know what you want—”
BOOM.
A burst of color erupted in the sky.
Kazi watched it for a millisecond before large arms grabbed her.
A hand shoved her face into a chest.
Another hand gripped the back of her neck.
A second explosion shook the air.
The arms tightened around her, pulling her even closer.
And then the clapping started.
Awed whoops and shouts of ecstatic glee echoed across the clearing. Younglings squealed, and the sound of whistling rockets filled the air succeeded by a brilliant shattering of bronzed hues.
Understanding calmed the harsh beat of her heart and Kazi leaned away from Wolffe. His face was tilted toward the sky, jaw clenched tight and chest heaving.
Gently, she attempted to maneuver herself away. Eyes still on the sky, Wolffe refused, his arms seemingly locked in place. Eventually his features shuttered and he released her, sliding a trembling hand through his hair.
“They’re fireworks,” she said. The blatant obviousness of her statement earned her a reproving glower, and she dropped her gaze, searching the field for Neyti.
To her left, Fox was approaching, his expression neutral though she detected a hint of worry as he carefully assessed Wolffe. Behind him, still seated at the table, Cody was speaking into Nova’s ear, gripping the man’s shoulder. Nova nodded, rising to his feet, his lips flattened in a thin line.
People gathered closer. Bodies jostled hers.
Kazi clenched her fists at her sides and forced herself to breathe. To ignore the swarming crowd.
A tiny hand tugged on her arm. Kazi hid her relief behind a strangled smile, kneeling to the ground. Distraught had harshened Neyti’s features into tight lines.
“They’re fireworks,” Kazi explained softly, resting a shaking hand on Neyti’s shoulder, squeezing her gently. “They’re used for celebrations, like tonight. They won’t hurt you. I promise.”
A particularly loud burst of snowy white made Neyti flinch. But the longer she watched the display, her distraught ebbed into curiosity which eased into fascination.
A throat cleared and Kazi pushed herself to her feet, appraising Wolffe. His face was stony, like it had been in the initial months of his arrival on Eluca.
The reversion unnerved her, and for some reason, she thought she might be to blame. Something had happened in their conversation that he didn’t appreciate.
“We’re leaving,” he informed her. His tone was clipped, hoarse.
“Okay.”
He turned on his heel, joining his brothers, not bothering to wait for her to say anything else.
A burst of coiled purples and effervescent greens decorated the night sky. Kazi ignored the fireworks, her attention lingering on the rigid shoulders stalking through the crowd.
Masterlist | Chapter 12 | Chapter 14
A/N: Poor Kazi overthinks her emotions and is quick to jump to conclusions. Poor Wolffe is second-guessing the things he thought he’d figured out.
Also, I know this is so basic of me, but here’s an image depicting the style of dress Kazi wore. Obviously, as described, the colors were more muted and the dress more cream colored.
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(Do you think you will write longer fics for Lucifer? You know besides the sentence starters)
"Is this really necessary?"
The Devil Wears Louboutin
(Lucifer x Reader)
Summary: Lucifer isn’t necessarily the materialistic type... except for when it came to his dress shoes. Those were more valuable than life on earth, your life specifically.
Word Count: 1,664
A/N: YUP. I actually have one in the works at the moment, but since you asked I just made this a longer fic. Hope that’s cool! (also may have gotten a bit carried away but when does that not happen)
“Is this really necessary?” you asked, trying to sound as confused as possible. You had thrown away a pair of Lucifer’s dress shoes as a way of getting back at him for embarrassing you in front of your friends. It wasn’t unlike him, but it was when you’d felt that you were finally fitting in with people your age, but of course, Lucifer had to screw it up. What you didn’t expect, though, was for him to call Chloe and the team to investigate.
“But of course. They’re Louboutin, y/n. Get with the program, would you?” You scoffed at his question, although internally snickering a bit to yourself about the mischief you’d caused for him. You hated to say it, but you were actually starting to understand the fun in being mischievous like your brother, despite constantly having to balance him out with how utterly, well, angelic you were.
“She’s right Lucifer. I mean, is it really that serious?” Chloe asked him sincerely, secretly hoping that he would lay off so she wouldn’t have to spend her day tracking down a pair of shoes, designer or not.
“Um yes? Don’t tell me your on her side, detective...,” he said as his eyes caught hers, as if they were visibly piercing through them. She kept eye contact with him, but soon broke it to look back at you.
“You know what? I should probably go check in with Ella and Dan to uh- you know... see if they found anything!” Chloe said awkwardly, dragging herself out of Lux to avoid any further confrontation from the two of you. Just as she was about to step out though, Ella and Dan both walked in from their search.
“Did you find ‘em?” Chloe asked.
“Well,” Ella started, “after about thirty minutes of grueling investigation, we found them!” You gulped, not thinking they would find them so soon, let alone at all.
“Great! I knew I could count on you Miss Lopez. I’m sure Detective Douche was of no help...,” Lucifer wisecracked, earning a glare from Dan, “...anywho, did you find the measly little germ that stole them?” He spoke as he rubbed his two hands together, most likely fantasizing about sending the culprit to hell. Little did he know, obviously, that you were the “measly little germ” he was talking about.
“As much as I’d love to drag him over here so you can have your fun with him,” Here it comes... “there were actually in the dumpster right outside of Lux!” Ella said. Lucifer was a bit confused to say the least.
“Really?” Chloe said, also confused, but relieved that she wouldn’t have to spend another minute on this particular ‘case.’
“Really?” Lucifer spoke in a surprised tone. “Why would someone just throw them away and scram, that makes absolutely no sense I mea-” Lucifer stopped in his tracks. You started rocking back and forth on your feet, looking undoubtedly guilty. You could practically see the lightbulb go on above Lucifer’s head as he spun around to look straight at you. Chloe, Ella, and Dan all looked at each other in confusion.
“What? Why’re you looking at me like that?” You tried to sound as genuine as possible, but Lucifer being your big brother and all, could see right through you.
“You’ll see,” he said with a wide grin, spin back to face his three colleagues. He knew it was you, and you were screwed. “Thanks guys, I’ll take it from here,” he said with a wink to Chloe, sending them off.
“Uhm okay, well, call me if you need anything else?” Chloe said, taken aback by Lucifer’s sudden change in mood. To be frank, so were you.
“Will do!” he said, literally pushing the three out of the door, leaving you and him alone. While still facing the exit, Lucifer turned around to face you with a sinister smile.
“Tsk tsk tsk... you thought you could fool me, didn’t you?” he said as he menacingly walked towards you.
“What’re you taking about?” you said, trying to keep up your clueless charade for as long as possible as you stepped back a bit.
“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. We’re both very well aware that you’re the one who did it, so just admit that it’s you now and I won’t tickle you too bad,” he said perkily. You had a slight feeling that that was coming. The last time you had gotten on Lucifer’s nerves, he tickled the daylights out of you. You would think it isn’t that bad of a penalty, considering he could never hurt you, but no, it was torture; it was just your luck that Lucifer was terribly good at it too, knowing all of your spots and whatnot.
“I didn’t. Do it.” you said angrily. It was an idiotic decision to continue to deny his claims, but like you said, it sometimes found itself to be fun, being mischievous like him.
“Wow- so witty, I like it!” he said proudly. “Now come here,” changing from a light tone to a serious one.
“I think I’m fine over here, thanks though!” Just as he was about to pounce, Maze walked in. Saved by the bell... sort of.
“Mazikeen! Good to see you! Say, you love torturing people, don’t you?”
“Maybe...? What’s it to you?”
“Well our dear y/n did something very very bad to your old pal, and I happen to be getting my vengeance by torturing her with tickles! Care to help a devil out?” Lucifer was fully capable in dealing with you himself, but he wanted to make the experience as unbearable as possible. What better way to do that than a little assistance from Maze?
“Maze. Don’t!” you pleaded with your hands up in defense.
You could see her hesitating a bit, since you two had a relatively close relationship because of Lucifer and all, but she honest to your father, couldn’t resist, and Lucifer knew that.
“I’m sorry y/n but I gotta!” For a split second she had a quite distressed look, but that quickly switched to her hungry-eyed demon face, running over to you to aid Lucifer in his revenge. She grabbed you in a bear hug so that your back was facing her and your arms were pinned to your sides, bringing you down to the floor with her.
“Maze you have to believe me when I say I didn’t do anything!” you yelled with a quick glare to Lucifer, noticing a cheeky grin plastered on his face.
“She’s lying, Maze. And we all know better than anyone that I never lie.” You groaned at that fact. There was no way Maze was going to believe you, despite the fact that if she didn’t believe Lucifer, he could, at any point and time, simply send her back to hell; she would rather die than take that chance.
“You’re all mine you little heathen...” he said with a boop to your nose. You stuck your tongue out at that, earning a chuckle from the man. You were utterly helpless, and he found it adorable. It wasn’t often that Lucifer got the chance to mess around with you as most big brothers do; whenever he got the chance, though, he soaked it in like a sponge. He was never blind to the fact that you were the responsible one the relationship, resulting in having to force you to be a child at times; and times like these where he would tickle the snot out of you, were his way of doing so.
“Getting feisty now, are we? You know, you still haven’t admitted to what you did earlier... d’you care to?” he said, his hands itching to tickle you to pieces. You didn’t reply, instead shrugging in response to his question. There was practically no point in arguing with him any longer, since your fate had already been decided since the minute he had realized that you were the culprit. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you!” he beamed, promptly attacking your torso, wiggling his fingers wherever he could reach. You could barely move, given that Maze had an iron grip on you.
“LUHUHUCE STOHOHOHOP!” you said as you struggled in Maze’s arms.
“Just so you know... if you’re trying to get out, it’s not gonna happen,” Maze said into your ear, sending a quick chill down your spine.
“UGHHHH. GUHUHUYS IHIHIM GOING TO PEEHEHEHEHE!” you said in an effort to hopefully be freed, but once again, Lucifer saw right through your act as if you were a pane of glass.
“You are just a lying little heretic today, aren’t you sister?” he said through playfully gritted teeth, switching his attack to your ribs, which raised your laughter about five octaves.
“AHAHAHAHA!” you screamed with your eyes closed shut, tears of mirth filling the corners. After what felt like eons - but was really only a few minutes - Lucifer noticed the hiccups in the midst of your laughter, and thought it was best to stop.
“Alright, you sensitive little imp,” he said as he stopped, earning a few exaggerated wheezes from you. You had always been quite dramatic growing up; it was part of the charm of being the youngest sibling. “Breathe, y/n,” he said as he pulled your chin up to look at him. “It could’ve been worse, you know...” he lightly threatened with wide eyes. You gave him a mocking expression, but somehow found it helpful to be reminded to breathe again. Maze, on the other hand, released her grip on you, patting your back a couple times as a form of reassurance and getting up to have a drink from the bar, Lucifer following straight after.
“You good over there, hellion?” He cheesed at the sight of your sprawled form on the ground as he poured a glass of whiskey for himself. You replied simply by sticking your arm up, giving him the bird.
Oh, how his ironically devilish nicknames for you had a special place in your heart; you’d consistently acted as if you hated them with every bone in your body, but quite honestly, you wouldn’t change any of it for the world, and neither would he.
#tickling#tickle community#fanfic#lucifer reader fic#lucifer reader insert#lucifer fic#lucifer tickles reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar#reader fill in#reader fic#reader insert#ticklish!reader#lee!reader#ler!lucifer#mazikeen#tickle fics#tickle fic
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we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 3
(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)
pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader
rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)
summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -
Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?
warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed
genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack
words: 5 k
note: hey, y'all. so last month i went on a new year's trip to my boyfriend's city (yes, covid has forced us into an ldr, fml) and got too occupied in all the celebrations and reunions, and this got delayed. also, you might have noticed how the chapters progressively grow wordier, lmao i'd been confused. but i think i've found the perfectly comfortable number now. expect this length from now on. thank you for reading~💜
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You were, to be very honest, a complete mess at this point.
You hadn’t been quite certain as to what to expect when you’d picked Jungkook’s name out of the bowl in your office, but you could say with certainty that it hadn’t been even close to this.
This boy was brimming with ideas! You hadn’t been able to get a single sentence in the midst of his own enthusiastic chatter, with words and ideas folding and layering all over each other. All you had done was nod, mumble words of agreement and appreciation—that you were pretty sure he didn’t even hear—and type it all. Freaking typing. So much typing.
So basically, the entirety of yesterday spent fussing over the repertoires to ensure that the list of tasks for the first set of three weeks were well-constructed had led to this—not being able to so much as tell him about the questions your team had so meticulously framed! You felt irked, amused, exasperated, exhausted, and at the same time, really fucking lost.
How were you supposed to interrupt him without disrespecting him? You didn’t have a great amount of tact and usually just cut to the chase. Which was generally an appreciated quality in your profession, because no writer wanted to be just lathered with compliments to later find out his work was actually bullshit that no one wanted to read. But this situation was different. You felt pressured, nervous and out of your element. Because you really had no idea how to respectfully stop this guy from making a mess of all your hard work.
He was Jeon freaking Jungkook of BTS, for God’s sake!
How could you shut him up?
You were both in Jungkook’s personal studio in the BTS dorm. The boy was seated on a couch across the coffee table from your own, literally swimming in a trillion size bigger t-shirt and some loose sweatpants. His hair floof-ed all over the place as he spoke, bubbling and bursting with enthusiasm. Which he was doing a lot of. Speaking, that is.
For the better part of two hours now, you’d been listening to him go on and on about what all he wanted to include in the book. Your fingers were nearly cramping with all the typing, but you’d promised the guys no recorders and you didn’t wanna miss anything he said. But it was freaking difficult with the speed he was going at!
And also with the mess and reluctance in your own head. You were used to pulling the reins with writers. This situation was making you feel incompetent.
You hadn’t even touched your list, yet. What would your teammates think of you if their very team leader failed to finish with the assigned data collection and messed up the team’s hard work? Ugh!
Currently, Jungkook was having you make a list of all the people he needed to talk about in the book.
“And there was this boy my age, Ji-Hyun, he was so much better than me at everything! It is him, truly, that I credit my overachieving traits to. I had to work so, so hard—oh! Please also note down Mun-Hee’s name! She was the best dancer in my entire school. So… wait, where was I?” He looked up at you with wide big, round eyes.
You opened your mouth to speak—was this when you asked him to shut up? It had to be, right, because this was the first time he’d actually prompted you to speak.
You meant to take your shot, but then stopped. You blinked. Looked back at your laptop. Blinked again.
You were so confused, right now. “Uh, Ji-Hyun was better than you—”
“Oh yes!” Jungkook exclaimed, launching off into a detailed story about how and in what respects, exactly, this guy was better than Jungkook.
You shut your eyes. This had gone beyond “taking notes” and was quickly turning into Jungkook enthusiastically reminiscing his childhood and freaking telling you tales about it. And he seemed to be enjoying himself so thoroughly, looking so adorable, that it felt very wrong to ask him to stop even when you tried to avoid the added pressure of him being a whole ass idol.
But you had actual work to do. And you were leading a team. You couldn’t act so unprofessionally.
In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have told the boys that this was going to be like “making friends.” Jungkook seemed to have taken it too literally.
Biting down on your lip, you cleared your throat. He didn’t acknowledge it. Sighing, you shut your laptop. “Jungkook?”
This time, he stopped mid-word, looking at you with his lips rounded in a pout, sparkling eyes turning into saucers.
Now, you were in no way attracted to the guy, but you really could not deny how freaking cute he looked in the moment.
“All okay?” he asked, looking at you and then the shut laptop on your lap.
You took a deep breath, winced a little, and then shook your head. “No, Jungkook. We need to pause…” You had to stop speaking when his face crumpled. “Whoa…um?”
Jungkook slumped in his place, shoulders sinking. “I’ve been giving horrible ideas, haven’t I?”
Your eyes widened. “What? No! Absolutely not! That isn’t the case, I was…”
He wiped his face with both his hands before looking at you with really sad eyes, all enthusiasm from some time ago washed away. “Then what? You can tell me, it’s okay.”
Now. You prided yourself to be a practical human being who strived to be as straightforward in her life as possible. But right now, you really could not stop yourself from lying your way out of this one. You decided to blame it on the fear of upsetting a client, and not the impossible-to-control empathy that Jungkook’s doe eyes seemed to naturally draw out of people.
“I just need a coffee. It’s been a while, my hands need a break. And my brain’s kinda overwhelmed, too,” you expertly lied, relaxing when Jungkook’s eyebrows lifted.
“We’ve been sitting here for long, haven’t we?” he said in an almost guilty tone before standing up. “And I didn’t even show you around the dorm!”
You tried to tell him how it was really not necessary, not to mention a bit too personal and…not what you were here for? But he was already moving towards the door and beckoning you along.
“Come on, let’s drop by the kitchen and then we’ll take a walk around the property!” he enthusiastically announced.
You stood up and followed him out of the room, awkwardly trying to ignore the two bodyguards that had stood as still as mannequins while you were in the room and then started to follow Jungkook wordlessly as you left.
The walk to the kitchen was a short one, and the place was, unsurprisingly, not empty.
Your team members along with their partnered BTS members had been assigned one particular space in the dorm, each. According to the email you received last evening, the kitchen was supposed to be used by Simon and—
“Taehyungie-hyung! Are those chicken burgers?” Jungkook excitedly rounded the kitchen island to peek into the paper bag Taehyung was fiddling with. “They smell so good…”
You looked from Jungkook’s face that was awash with childlike excitement to Taehyung’s, and your breath caught when you found his eyes already trained on you. While you struggled to formulate a coherent thought at the intensity his eyes seemed to be emanating, yet again, his lips slipped into an easy smile.
“Hello!” he greeted you cheerily, bowing his head.
You, dazedly, bowed back and dragged your feet up to the island, standing across from the two guys. “Hey,” you mumbled in English.
His smile widened further to show his teeth. “Food?” he asked you in English, nodding at the burger Jungkook was pulling out of the bag.
You shook your head. “No, coffee,” you responded in Korean, earning raised eyebrows from him.
“I hate coffee.”
You smiled, this time. “You’re missing out.”
“Can I call you by your name?” he asked out of the blue, and you did a double take.
“Uh…yes?” you stammered. “Yes, of course Taehyung-ssi.”
“You should call me Tae.”
You swallowed, continually nodding your head like a damn puppet. “Yes. Tae. Sure.”
“I’m bac—boss?”
You twisted on your heels at the familiar squeak. “Simon, hi,” you mumbled, professionalism slipping over you in the blink of an eye at having a member of your team in your vicinity. “Where did you wander off to?”
Simon seemed to be sweating a bit, and you really couldn’t really tell why. You’d just asked a simple question.
Maybe you’d become too scary…
“Just the loo,” Simon responded with a forced giggle.
You nodded, giving him a long look and observing how his smile grew progressively weirder. Then you turned back to the island. And nearly choked.
Taehyung’s fringe hung over his eyes, making his eyes look that much more hooded. His lips were twisted up as he watched you.
Oh, dear God, did this guy have a crush on you or something? But how? Why?
He was a bonafide Greek God, and you were…well. Not.
And needless to say, he was literally not allowed to have a crush on you. Or anybody else, for that matter. It was against BigHit’s policies. According to what you’d read, the boys were to wait out one more year, as of now, before indulging in any sort of romance.
You were, by contract, also bound to not encourage any such advancements. Not that smiling at you could be considered one, to be honest. He could very well be trying to make friends, and you could be reading too much into it.
You decided to stop thinking so much.
“You want to eat something?” Jungkook asked as he handed you a cup of brew.
You smiled and shook your head. “I don’t eat at work. None of us do.” You eyed Simon and he nodded with his gaze wide. “Disturbs the momentum.”
“Hey, you shouldn’t consider this strictly work,” Taehyung spoke up in that deep ass voice of his, startling you. “We’re also making friends, here. This is also not your office, but our home.”
And then he grinned at you with all of his teeth. You felt your cheeks heating up.
This was not going according to plan.
You were panicking.
Flashing Taehyung a close-lipped smile, you stepped away from the counter. “Um, Jungkook?” you mumbled. “D’you guys have a pool in the house?”
Jungkook looked surprised but as enthusiastic as ever. He nodded, his hair bouncing all over. “Come on!”
Throughout your walk around the house, you had tried to slip in ideas from your first three week’s layout to Jungkook that would fascinate him enough to make him at least want to hear them out. And, you’d proudly like to claim, it had worked.
Jungkook had heard your plans and had even asked you to pull the list up on your laptop to have a look at it. And henceforth, you’d made tremendous progress.
And now, at nearly nine o’clock of the night, you and your team were taking your leave for the day.
You had exchanged brief words with all the members to see how they found their partners. Currently, you were conversing with Yoongi.
“ARMYs know a lot about all of that,” the guy said, referring to his life before BTS. “But there’s still a lot that they don’t. I talked to Nathan about all of it, we made notes. I’m really excited about the book.”
You gave him a professional grin. “I couldn’t be happier! Nathan’s got a really innovative mind. I’m sure he’ll make this a good experience for you.”
Nodding, Yoongi wished you a good night and bowed. You bowed back, moving away from the building and towards the vans waiting to drive you back to your hotel.
Jimin flashed you a wide grin as you got into the car. “Have a good night,” he wished you, shutting the door like a gentleman. Then he peeked and waved at Areum, your team member assigned to him. “See you tomorrow, Areum-ssi!”
Namjoon followed suit with a hand forwarded through the window for you to shake. “How did today go for you?” he asked you in English, causing Hoseok to elbow Jungkook, probably asking the younger to eavesdrop. Jungkook’s eyes met yours, though, and the two of you shared a covert giggle. “Did we meet your expectations?”
You smiled, formally. “It was… a good introduction of sorts, I’d say. Highly informative. Moderately productive. And we didn’t have any expectations, per se, but my team really loved you guys. We’re super excited to be working with you.”
You looked around yourself, prompting the three team members seated with you to nod in agreement. “Likewise!” Namjoon nodded at you, his smile turning his eyes to crescent moons.
“Thank you. How was your experience with Sana?” you asked him, nudging the girl sitting next to you.
Namjoon grinned with his teeth. “Amazing! She’s really compassionate and driven. Today’s session was interesting and felt comfortable. I’m eagerly looking forward to more.”
You secretly exhaled in relief. Sana had been the one person on your team that you’d been the most worried about. It was good to learn that she’d managed to impress Namjoon despite her initial nerves.
Next to you, she gave a short, very professional chuckle, and leant by you to nod at Namjoon. “Thank you, Namjoon-ssi.”
“Have a safe journey and a good night,” Namjoon wished you before peeking into the car. “Bye, Sana! See you tomorrow!”
You waved at the boys and their manager as your van started to move. You looked behind to check that the other one, carrying the remaining three members of your team, was following closely behind.
“What a day!” Simon exclaimed from his seat opposite you.
“You can say that again,” you mumbled, massaging your temples. “And what was up with you? You looked really wound up when I saw you in the kitchen.”
Simon took his glasses off and rested his head against the back of the van’s seat. “Let’s just wait it out, boss. I’ll tell you later if I absolutely have to. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
You frowned, but let him be.
Today was just the first day. If you stuck to your schedule, you would have a hundred and twenty five more of these before this project was done.
You could do it.
Right?
You, as it turned out by the end of the first week, could do it. The same couldn’t be said about Simon, though.
On Saturday night, barely an hour after you’d all retired to your rooms after dinner, Simon sent an SOS to the group chat. The six of you were in his room within a minute.
“You look physically okay,” Nathan, the only other guy on the team, mumbled as he squinted at the bespectacled nervous wreck. “What’s up?”
“I can’t do this anymore!” Simon blurted out.
All eyes immediately landed on you.
You did a double take. “Come again? You can’t do what anymore?”
He sighed, shrinking into himself as Riya, another member of your team, sleepily sat on one corner of his bed. “You can’t quit the project, Si,” she mumbled, patting his shoulder. “You signed a contract.”
Simon’s wide eyes met yours. You raised your eyebrows.
“Then—then I need a different partner.”
Sana clicked her tongue. “No can do. We’ve all worked on our homeworks. No one’s gonna sacrifice theirs for you.”
You agreed, so you stayed quiet when Simon looked at you in hopes of a counter.
“I can’t go into another week, please! It’s…” Simon trailed off with a helpless expression on his face.
You sighed. “Everyone, out.”
Your team trickled out of the room, tossing curious glances and hushed whispers your way.
“What is it?” you questioned Simon when it was just the two of you.
“He’s too intense. I have a huge crush on him.”
Your jaw fell open. “Dude… I… what? You have a fiance!”
He exhaled. “Yeah, he cheated on me.”
You drew a sharp breath, shocked. “Oh. Oh, my God, what? What the hell’s been going on with you, I’m so sorry, Simon. Are you…okay? When did you find out?”
“I’d been suspicious for a whole week, hoping it’d turn out to be a lie.” He sighed. “Guess not. But, don’t worry.” He waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll deal with it, no big deal. It’s happened before. I’ve done it before, too, that’s not the issue. The problem is that, right now, this is all making me wanna kiss Taheyung. What the fuck do I do, boss?”
You sympathised with the guy and felt responsible, in a way. After all, you’d been the one that forced him to propose to his boyfriend so that you could bring him with you on this project. If only you knew what kind of a toxic pair these two were! Goddammit.
But, this guy was really telling you he couldn’t focus on work properly because he wanted to kiss Taehyung? For real?
What a guy.
“Get a fucking grip, Simon, what else?” you exclaimed, throwing your arms up.
“No, I can’t. Don’t you think I have tried, already? Please take me off this project before I fuck things up for all of us and the company.” He shut his eyes, rubbing his face with both his palms. “And I’ve also, technically, broken the contract, so… Ask Boss to send someone else in.”
Was this happening for real? You were caught between wanting to smash the glass vase kept next to you over Simon’s head, and hurling yourself over the balcony.
You inhaled deeply, then exhaled. You could, realistically, do neither of the above. So you thought clinically and professionally, and made the sound decision to burden your boss with this mess instead of trying to sweep it under the rug by yourself.
“Fine.” You cleared your throat. “Take a break tomorrow. I’ll have a word with Manager Woo, he’ll talk to Taehyung. Tomorrow’s a Sunday, so I’ll be calling Boss for the first weekly check-in. I’ll ask her if something can be done to replace you on the team.”
Simon nodded with a grimace, which may have been his attempt at trying to smile.
You retired to your room on heavy feet. How could things go south in a week? You had barely begun and a buckload of bullshit was on you already.
Exhaling, you opened your laptop to leave a mail for Manager Woo. Quoting a personal emergency, you drafted an apologetic letter stating Simon’s absence tomorrow and asked the man to forward your apologies to Taehyung as well. At the same time, you were also mentally seasoning yourself for a possible confrontation with Taehyung when you went in tomorrow.
You’d just put your laptop away when your phone rang. Frowning, you lifted it up, only to silent the ring with a groan.
Ever since you landed in Seoul, your best-friend cum roommate back at home had taken to giving you a call every single night. Even when you didn’t pick up. Ever.
Every morning you would text him an apology, and every night he would call again. It’d been a week to this pattern, now.
Why was he doing this? You’d made it abundantly clear that you weren’t going to get roped into any kind of affair with him—emotional or physical. What did he want, now?
For a second, you wondered if he was maybe only just concerned about your well-being in a foreign country? But then you dismissed it, immediately. Why would he? What had you ever done to deserve his—or anyone’s, really—concern? You were a bitch to the majority of people in your life, without trying and even meaning to. Why would anyone give a fuck about you without ulterior motives, right?
Lying back on your pillows, you looked at the ceiling.
You’d been absolutely horrible at treating people with compassion and care for the majority of your life. You were always labelled either too prudish, too selfish, too career-oriented, or plainly, too narcissistic by people around you.
And, strangely enough, it never bothered you.
But that didn’t mean you had not cared about anyone, ever. You had. Too much too, once upon a time. But what had that left you with? Expectations and hurt.
So then, wasn’t it better to not care at all, and not expect at all? You never got hurt, this way.
Sighing, you rolled over to your side, tugging the covers up to your chin. Lifting up your phone from the nightstand, you turned it to silent.
An unread message was displayed on the locked screen:
Looks like you went to bed early again, lol. Hope you’re safe, warm and relaxed. Have a good day at work tomorrow xo
You sighed, yet again. You did not need anyone’s hugs and kisses for your day to be good. Why couldn’t people take a hint?
Shutting your eyes, you tried to get some sleep.
You were absolutely not surprised when, barely an hour into a fierce discussion about his school life, you and Jungkook were disturbed by a knock on the door. But Jungkook was, and jumped at the loud rapping, his wide eyes flashing to the door.
Your back being to the doorway, you looked at the boy expectantly to inform you of the intruder. Not that you didn’t already know.
Jungkook didn’t say anything, though, and simply kept looking behind you with raised eyebrows and rounded eyes. You sat very tightly wound up, contemplating whether to peek around the sofa’s high back or to stand up, when a deep, heavy voice enunciated your name.
You stood up, slowly, pulling on a professional frown of very minute concern on your face. You willed yourself to act surprised when your eyes met a timid looking Taehyung’s. And, you actually slightly were, too. Why did he seem so shifty and nervous?
“Hello, Tae,” you wished, formally bowing to greet him.
He bowed back, licking his lips as he stood back straight up. “May I please borrow you for a few minutes?”
You twisted on your heels to look at Jungkook. It took him a few seconds to focus on your stare and recognise the question. “Oh! Sure! Of course! I’ll be here, I’ll wait.”
Nodding in gratitude, you stepped out of the studio to join Taehyung in the lounge area attached to the kitchen.
“I know what you would ask—”
“Have I not been cooperating well with Simon?” Taehyung cut you off with a question you were not expecting.
You frowned. “What makes you say that? He had a personal emergency today, Tae, that’s all! I’m sure he must be having a great time working with you.”
Taehyung sighed. “You think, or you know?”
How were you supposed to answer that? You bit your lip, trying to read Taehyung’s eyes, but the collar-bones peeking above the wide neckline of his oversized, brown t-shirt kept distracting you. On some level, you could understand what Simon must have been facing. But! You were all supposed to be professional adults and quell any unprofessional thoughts and not foster them!
You turned your face to your feet, not missing the wide-legged, knee-length shorts Taehyung wore. You mentally cursed yourself.
His sigh floated over to you. “I hope it isn’t something I did. I know I can seem a bit overwhelming sometimes and uninterested at other times, but… I am excited for this project and I really want to give it my best, too.” His eyes looked pained when you met them again. You softened. “Please tell me the truth.”
You drew in a breath. “It’s just as I told you, Tae. Simon has to sort some issues out in his personal life. And what makes you think you’re too overwhelming or uninterested? Did Simon say something?”
“No, no!” Taehyung immediately shook his head. “I just…speak from previous experiences. I don’t collaborate with people that well. I tire them out. And Simon… I don’t think we like each other’s approach very much. I feel like he doesn’t really agree with my ideas, just goes along out of courtesy.”
Your lips turned downwards. “I’m sure it’s none of that, Tae. Absolutely positive. And if worse comes to worst and the two of you actually aren’t able to work together, we will arrange for a switch-up so that you’re able to work comfortably.”
Taehyung seemed to perk up at that. “Switch-up? Will you work with me?”
You narrowed your eyes. He seemed a bit too keen about wanting to work with you, didn’t he? You could very clearly recall your first meeting and how he’d seemed to wane when you told him you were paired up with Jungkook.
Curious.
“We’ll see how it unfolds. But as of now, I am partnered up with Jungkook and you’re fretting over nothing. Simon will be back tomorrow, and things will get back on track. I promise.”
You hoped.
Taehyung nodded, excusing himself to visit the kitchen and you took your leave and came back to an eagerly waiting Jungkook.
He stood up the moment you entered the room. “Is everything okay? Hyung looked sad.”
You honestly had zero idea as to what to tell Jungkook. Pursing your lips, you slowly nodded in contemplation as you made your way to your seat. “He’s not working well with Simon,” you honestly told him.
“Oh.” Jungkook’s lips rounded, forming an adorable pout. “Taehyung hyung has a very artistic soul,” he said, taking you by surprise. You leant forward to listen in with interest. “He tends to get awkward and insecure about his ideas and conceptualizations. They’re usually off-beat and hard to work with, but they’re amazingly creative if you look at them like an artist. Not everybody has the right vision for those things, though. Maybe that is why Simon is…” Jungkook trailed off with a shrug.
You bit your lip in consideration. Taehyung’s words echoed in your head.
‘I don’t think we like each other’s approach very much.’
Maybe they really were mismatched, outside of Simon’s immature, unprofessional, god-awful behaviour, too.
“Hey, could we add him to our group?” Jungkook suddenly asked, confusing you.
“Huh?” you very eloquently responded.
He gave a small giggle. “Hyung. Could he work with us? We have been pretty efficient, and you certainly seem to have an artistic vision.”
You smiled. “Thank you, Jungkook, that’s really flattering. But also, no, I don’t think we can do that. The contract we’ve all drawn has a couple of strict clauses and one-on-one sessions is one of them.”
Frowning, Jungkook nodded in acceptance.
The two of you resumed your discussions from before, but the vigour and drive was now lessened to a great extent. You, especially, couldn’t stop worrying. You were the leader of the team, after all.
Sunday night brought in the awaited conference call with your boss.
Looking at her excited, smiling face on your computer screen, you couldn’t help but dread the news you were about to break to her.
“So. How is it going?” Your boss rubbed her hands together, wiggling her eyebrows. “How is Sana doing? You were quite wound up about her, if I remember correctly.”
“You do remember correctly. There’s good news and bad news,” you responded with a grimace. “Which one first?”
Your boss pursed her lips. “Don’t wanna immediately spoil my mood, so, the good one please.”
“Sana has been doing fantastic. She’s been nothing short of professional, and according to what I’ve seen and heard, Namjoon is really pleased with her,” you relayed, smiling when your boss sighed in relief.
“Okay, so that’s out of the way. What’s wrong?”
You sighed. Better rip the band-aid straight off. “Simon has a huge crush on Taehyung and feels like he broke the contract. He wants to leave.”
You watched quietly as your boss choked on an inhale, coughed, had some water, and sat back down to blink at you with a blank face. “These words must not leave your room. Or Simon’s. None of the BigHit staff must catch a wind of it.”
You groaned. “Please don’t ask me to work through this, boss, please—”
“Work through it, Y/N!” your boss cruelly cut you off. “This is such a tiny, little, manageable thing! Resolve it.”
You gawked. “You literally just choked—how is this little, boss?”
“Counsel Simon. Ask him to push through. Threaten his employment with us, if necessary.”
It was your turn to blink at her, owlishly. “And? That’s it?”
Your boss shrugged. “And if it doesn’t work out, swap him with someone else on your team.”
You sighed. “This is all such high school, teen flick bullshit. What the hell.”
“I know, hun. Which is why I’m asking you to manage it. And I know you can. You’re my favourite, Y/N.” Your boss nodded at you with a solemn look. “I have believed in your capabilities since day one. It’s time to make them shine.”
You nodded, dumbly. The back of your mind was hinting at an inkling that you were being manipulated by flattery, but the forefront was basking in all the praise and could really not be bothered.
All you had to do was keep the whole thing hush-hush from the BigHit people and keep Simon in line, right? You could manage that.
Bidding your boss goodbye, you rung up Simon.
“Hey, boss.”
“You’re coming with us tomorrow and you’re gonna be a fucking professional like you’re supposed to!” you barked into the phone. “Bottle up your feelings, or eat them—I don’t care. You’ll do the job you were here for, and you’ll do it right.”
There was a long, suspended silence at the other end. And then a sigh escaped Simon. “I don’t think I have a choice. Fine, I’ll try.”
You put your phone to silent and shut your eyes, knowing you’d receive another call tonight and that you won’t pick up tonight, either.
You lay back in the bed, gearing up for tomorrow.
If worse actually did come to worst, and Simon sent everything down the rabbit hole, who would you make him swap places with? All of you had built really amazing rapports with your assigned partners in just a week. No one would be willing to start over.
If it came to it, would you have to? Would you be able to?
You could maintain professionalism a hundred times better than Simon, that much was certain. But you and Jungkook had been working so well! And who was to say Simon wouldn’t cause trouble with Jungkook, too?
You let out a whine, beyond mad at the situation this guy had landed you in.
But you’d have to navigate out of it, somehow. This was the biggest project of your life so far—the first ever you were heading. You would ensure everything worked out at the end.
You would tie all the loose ends and make it all work. You would.
(You literally had no choice.)
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Tags: @tangledsparkles @hoefortaeshands @getmemyfries
#taehyung angst#bts angst#taehyung fluff#bts fluff#taehyung imagine#bts imagine#v angst#v fluff#v imagine#jungkook imagine#bts v#bts jungkook#jungkook fluff#vantaenet#*mine#f: wbcs
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Princess Charming And The Gentleman in Distress
Index
A/N: I wrote this for my beautiful friend @the-hufflefluffwriter who loves Lucissa and helped me explore this ship. I loved writing this and I hope you like it as well <3
Lucius x Narcissa
Word count: 1530
Summary: Narcissa asks Lucius on a date.
Ever since he had gotten to Hogwarts, Lucius Malfoy walked about the school grounds like a dandy. He was handsome and intelligent, qualities he knew he possessed and was not afraid to flaunt them in and out of class. He kept mostly to himself and talked to a very selected few. This rubbed most students the wrong way, as they assumed the was just another stuck up, entitled pureblood.
Which he was, to an extent.
Lucius was raised to be the perfect heir of a long line of (mostly) pure blooded wizards and witches, after all. He behaved with the propriety and decorum he was expected to, but that was not the reason why he wouldn’t engage with most people.
In reality, he knew he wasn’t half as charming as he imagined himself to be. He could get really dorky about things he was passionate about, like potion making or reading. He was an expert in lots of random things. He knew the events of the XVI century’s witch hunts and Anne Boleyn’s biography by heart. He loved animals, especially peacocks and learned every fact about them. He was kind-hearted, sensitive and open to new ideas, characteristics his father scorned.
Through the years, Lucius had curated an image of perfection he wasn’t willing to lose. And he wasn’t going to let anyone use his true colours against him like his father did.
So, as he walked to the prefects’ carriage, his shiny new badge pinned to his robes, he procured to maintain his composure. Nobody could’ve guessed how proud and excited he was about his new position. His mask of poise fell for a minute when he saw who the other Slytherin prefect was.
Narcissa Black was probably the most popular girl in their year. She was beautiful and dignified, with the aristocratic flair that accompanied her last name. She was also brilliant and had a way with people that made her the centre of attention wherever she went. She was a beater and the star of the Slytherin quidditch team. Narcissa laughed and the world stopped to listen. She was everything Lucius tried to convey and wasn’t.
They had never talked to each other. Narcissa had a lot of suitors, but the only two boys she really talked to apart from her teammates were Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, who dated her older sisters.
As he sat next to her, one single thought crossed his mind: Salazar, this is going to be very, very awkward.
…
“So, are you really thinking about filling your manor with albino peacocks?” she asked, laughter in her voice.
“Of course! They are beautiful, noble creatures. Once I’m the owner, I’ll have them everywhere,” he answered humorously and yet dead serious.
“What a joy to whoever marries you, Malfoy.”
As the months went by, Narcissa and Lucius struck up a very particular friendship. Little by little, he opened up to her. She was endeared by every arbitrary piece of knowledge he had to share with her. She loved how he listened intently to whatever she had to say and he’d ask real questions without ever being nosy. Narcissa found someone who understood her insecurities, someone who not only valued her wittiness but always had a perfect comeback for her. They were overly dramatic together, balancing the etiquette demanded by their families with playfulness.
Their nightly rounds suddenly became the highlight of their weeks. Every day, Lucius would try to find more creative ways to flirt. As the friendship grew, so did his attraction for Narcissa and he was dying to ask her out.
“That could be you, you know?” he said smugly.
Narcissa looked at him, an eyebrow raised. She knew Lucius liked her; he wasn’t subtle at all. And she liked him back, but she knew better than to show him that. Her sisters had taught her well.
“Oh, I know that approach too well, Malfoy. My mother warned me about guys like you.” She crossed her arms playfully.
“Oh, really? So, she warned you about handsome, intelligent and absolutely talented guys like me?” he shot back.
Narcissa laughed, a full-blown laugh that left her breathless. Lucius felt satisfied.
“No, you fool. She told me about those men, too eager to get a proper lady for a wife and a line of mistresses and bastards on the side,” she said dramatically.
It was Lucius’ turn to look at her as though she had gone mad. “And I am one of those?”
“Definitely.”
“Cissa, I can count with one hand the amount of people I talk to. If anything, you are the one who might be searching for a proper gentleman for a husband and a line of lovers on the side,” he countered.
“Not going to lie, I definitely like that idea. The swap of gender roles sounds refreshing,” she beamed back.
He shook his head as a smile played on his lips. “You’re going to be the death of me, Narcissa Black.”
Narcissa smiled. They were already walking back to the Slytherin common room. She knew everything her sisters had told her about not showing too much interest. Andromeda was particularly adamant about this; she had shown the slightest bit of interest for Rabastan and he acted smug for months before asking her out. But she wondered how long she’d have to wait before Lucius made a move. Narcissa didn’t know many more nights of playful banter she could take. Patience wasn’t her forte, as much as her father told her it was the most important quality to cultivate.
Her heart was beating fast on her chest when they arrived to their common room. She decided to get over with it already.
“Cissa.”
“Take me to Hogsmeade next weekend,” she blurted out. Her tone was demanding, not allowing the least beat of doubt to show on her features.
Lucius nodded slowly, not able to disguise his surprise at her bravery.
…
Lucius offered his arm to Narcissa, who linked it with hers. They were very close to each other, enough for her to notice how her date was shivering. It was snowing as they walk to Hogsmeade. Narcissa took the necessary precautions when she chose her garments for the day. She looked beautiful, as always, but she was also properly dressed for the weather. Lucius, on the other hand, had sacrificed comfort for style and now he was freezing to the bone and pretending like everything was fine.
Narcissa could tell he couldn’t wait to arrive at Madam Puddifoot’s and get his hands on steaming cup of tea. She decided it was her moment to act gallantly; she had asked him out, after all. She took off her green scarf and put it around his neck. Once again, Lucius was taken aback by her attitude, but he couldn’t deny the scarf made a big difference.
They smiled at each other sweetly, but she knew she couldn’t let this opportunity pass. She was loving the whole “princess charming and gentleman in distress” situation.
“You know, Malfoy? I love seeing you in my clothes.”
Lucius’ face was already too red from the cold for Narcissa to notice the blush, so he decided to play along with her. “You’ve seen nothing, Black. I’d look fabulous in one of your skirts.”
She giggled. “That confidence makes me think it wouldn’t be the first time you wear someone’s skirt.”
“It would be,” he said, “I’m just so handsome I can pull anything off.”
Narcissa rolled her eyes playfully.
“Your confidence, on the other hand, makes me think it isn’t the first time a guy uses your clothes,” he retaliated.
“Oh, it’s definitely not the first time,” she said offhandedly, noticing how Lucius’ confident smile vanished from his beautiful face. “My cousin Sirius looks so pretty in my dresses. You have no idea!”
Lucius snorted. He pushed the door to Madam Puddifoot’s. A tinkle announced their arrival. The place was tacky and over the top, with ribbons and frills in every possible pastel colour. It was, anyhow, classier than the Three Broomsticks and Lucius had wanted to take her on the very best date possible.
As they sat down, Lucius inched forward and whispered something that could’ve probably scandalized any other proper lady he knew: “You’d look great in my clothes, Black.”
“Oh, Malfoy,” she retorted, her smile hinting an incredibly witty response, “you’ll have to go to hell and back before I wear your clothes.”
…
Lucius woke up to an empty bed. He sat up, scanning the room in search of his wife. He noticed sounds coming from the bathroom and laid back, waiting for Mrs. Malfoy to emerge. Narcissa came back to their bed wearing Lucius’ robe. He smiled at the sight and open his arms for her. She gladly complied and snuggled to her husband.
“You know, Cissa?” whispered Lucius, never missing the chance to mess with his wife.
“Yes?”
“Going to hell and back wasn’t half as bad as I thought it would be,” he teased.
Narcissa filled the room with the wholehearted chortles only reserved for her husband and Lucius couldn’t feel any happier.
#lucissa#lucius malfoy#lucius malfoy x narcissa malfoy#narcissa malfoy#narcissa black#narcissa#lucius#lucius malfoy x narcissa black#lucius x narcissa#lucissa fic#lucissa fanfiction#lucissa fanfic#narcissa malfoy fluff#harry potter fluff#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fanfics
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Title: In Bad Waters - part ten Word count: ±3400 words Episode summary: Still in possession of the Winchesters’ belongings, Zoë meets up with the hunters on her next case. When it turns out to be a little more complicated than anticipated, she accepts their help in order to make an important deadline. Part ten summary: Zoë and the Winchesters face the aftermath of losing a victim. Especially the huntress takes it hard, and the reason soon surfaces. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Descriptions of domestic violence/child abuse. Drug use/addiction. Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures/resuscitation. Swearing, alcoholism. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Descriptions of torture and murder, drowning. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09 and @deanwanddamons. Thanks, girls! Gif isn’t mine. If you are the creator or know who made it, please tell me so I can credit you.
Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist
S1E02 “In Bad Waters” Masterlist
The black Harley Davidson rolls into the parking lot of the Hampton Inn, followed by the Chevrolet Impala. Zoë hasn’t said a word to Sam since she found Taylor at the Dawlson home. Both of them gave a statement to the local police and managed to talk their way out of an interrogation at the department, Zoë continuing her role as agent Sharon Evans. Without missing a beat, Sam improvised and said he was her partner. They kept the cops in the dark, hoping they will not be making their ghost hunt more difficult than it already is.
Sam also talked to Jeff Dawlson. The poor guy was a mess, but the widower made clear that he was certain that this wasn’t just some ordinary murder. The silence, the windows that didn’t break, the door that didn’t open. He called it a force, something he couldn’t possibly begin to explain. Even for a skeptic down to earth guy like Jeff, this was obviously not from their world. So Sam told him everything about Laura, all that they know. Jeff took it quite well, even thanked them for their attempt to save his wife, but he was devastated, never to be the same.
Quiet, Zoë gets off her bike, takes her laptop case out of the saddlebag and strolls to the entrance. She’s glad no one stole her Macbook when she left it at the terras, the database as valuable to her as John’s journal is to the boys. Sam follows her, watching the huntress as she makes her way to room seventeen; not a single remark has left her lips, yet she keeps a straight face. People passing by don’t notice anything about the strong woman, but Sam can only imagine that this is messing with her.
The huntress slips the key card through the lock and opens the door. As she expected, Dean is obviously present. A KFC bag and several paper wrappings plus an empty bucket that once contained fried chicken are scattered on the bedspread, loud music is blaring on the radio. Dean, who is freshening up in the bathroom, apparently didn’t hear them come in, because he keeps singing along with the song.
“There’s a lot of people sayin' we'd be better off dead. Don't feel like Satan, but I am to them. So I try to forget it, any way I can. Keep on rockin' in the free world!”, he belts out.
His younger brother halts and raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t laugh or chuckle; his brother’s poor vocal skills would have been amusing if the circumstances were different. Zoë doesn’t appreciate his singing either and she slams her fist on the bathroom door. “Hey, Neil Young! Shut your piehole, will ya?” They hear a glass breaking on the bathroom floor and Zoë rolls her eyes while sighing deeply. Wonderful. “Fuck,” Dean curses softly, then sets up a voice loud enough for Zoë to hear it. “Sorry!”
Without responding she walks away from the door and turns down the volume of the radio completely, allowing a deadly silence to hover the room. As Sam picks up the paper wrappings, Dean pops his head around the corner. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asks them both, when he notices his brother by the door. “I could ask you the same thing,” Sam returns. “I let him break in,” Zoë says before Dean can answer. “Didn’t expect you two to be back anytime soon.” He walks out of the bathroom, buttoning his white shirt, since he doesn’t have a change of clothes. “The shower is amazing, by the way. It’s so big and it has this fucking awesome massage setting--” “Something occurred at the Dawlsons,” Sam interrupts.
His older brother halts and looks from Sam to Zoë, who sat down on the bed, staring at nothing in particular, her gaze blank. She can feel his unspoken question and decides to answer. “She’s dead.” Dean expected something like that when he sensed the mood, but it still comes as a shock. He needs a few seconds to collect his thoughts. “Dead as in hit-by-a-car-dead or killed-by-a-ghost-dead?” he asks carefully.
A depressing quietness remains between the hunters. Zoë doesn’t reply; words aren’t necessary. When her eyes meet his, Dean knows enough. The oldest of the brothers breathes out with a sigh and looks away, shaking his head; damn it. “Did you see Laura?” he wonders. “We did,” Sam responds on Zoë’s behalf. “We tried to stop her.” Dean frowns at that. “How did you know Laura was inside the house? So far no one witnessed her actual attack, right?” “I had a vision,” Sam explains.
Both Zoë and Dean look up at him, stunned by his statement. Zoë is well aware Sam had one. But what she didn’t know is that Sam told his brother about his ability, which she presumes, as he just blurted it out like that. Dean however, bites down the mixture of concern and frustration. He tries to ignore the fact his brother shared this information in the presence of the huntress, which they only met a couple of days ago. Filing it under either carelessness, he addresses the other issue: since when does Sam have these visions when he’s awake? “You fell asleep or something’?” “No, this was the first time he had one during the day,” Zoë answers before Sam does.
The comment triggers Dean to snap his head towards her, unpleasantly surprised to learn she’s all up to date with Sam’s powers. Agitated, he glares at his brother. “You told her?!” he exclaims. “Yeah, so? We hunt together, so what’s the big deal?” Sam returns defensively. “You wanna know what the big deal is? If this goes public amongst hunters, some of them might seriously keep an eye on you, Sam!” his brother snaps. Zoë tries to cool the looming clash. “It’s safe with me, Dean.” “That’s not the fucking point!” He counters angrily, focusing on the huntress. “He doesn’t realize how dangerous this could be!” Sam reminds him of his presence. “Don’t talk like I’m not even here, Dean.”
Zoë’s not sure where it’s coming from, but she has the sudden urge to defend Sam. She can relate with the youngest Winchester, she’s going through the same after all. Dean has no idea what these special abilities feel like, how painful and confusing they are, how they wreck their mind. He’s not the one experiencing them. Who the hell does he think he is to tell Sam how to handle this? “Like you have a clue what’s going on,” she jumps in. “I think hunters are the last ones on earth you should worry about.” Dean narrows his eyes at her, reading into her words. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” “Haven’t you wondered where this is coming from?” she looks up at him, waiting for an answer. “Because I for one have never encountered a human being with supernatural powers. Have you?”
Silence. It might not have yet occurred to Dean, though, but Sam and Zoë have thought of it constantly. People, normal, random people, shouldn’t be having visions, period. Zoë is right; It’s not normal, it’s not human.
Dean however, decides to ignore her notification and points his finger at his younger brother in the way a father would do to his son. “You shut up about this,” he warns. “If you wanna talk about it, talk to me. If you share this with anyone else--” “Don’t you treat me like you’re Dad!” Sam counters. Zoë rolls her eyes the moment John is mentioned. She turns to the window with her hands placed firmly on her slender waist. “I am responsible for you and I am the one who has to drag your ass out of trouble when you have God knows what on your tail because of this freaky stuff. As long as Dad ain’t around, I’m gonna talk to you like that. Suck it up!” Dean returns sternly. Sam huffs and grinds his teeth. He hates, absolutely hates it when he’s treated like a child. It doesn’t matter if he’s talked down on by Dad or Dean; he can’t stand it. He's twenty-two for Christ's sake! “No. This is my life, my problem. I’m not gonna listen to you,” Sam sneers, cynically. Furiously, Dean raises his voice. “Yes, you are!!” “Would you two SHUT THE FUCK UP?!”
Both brothers seize their argument and look at Zoë, who turned around to face then. Enraged, she glares at them, her penetrating eyes darting from one to the other, disgusted by their behavior. “How old are you? Fucking ten?!” she asks resentfully. “People are dying and you two are actually arguing over who’s boss and who’s not?!” Sam gulps; she has a point. This is senseless; because both Dean and Sam know that neither of them are willing to admit their wrong. Even Dean seems to be ashamed, his green eyes breaking away from Zoë’s penetrating stare. “I’m gonna be honest with you two. If you don’t get along, that’s your problem, but you’re no good to me if you don’t function together,” she continues, gritting her teeth in frustration. “An innocent just died, Goddamnit!”
They could hear a pin drop in the spacious hotel room. Having enough of the Winchesters’ stupidity, Zoë turns her back on them and saunters to the end of the room. She sits down on the bed, sniffing, then she wipes her nose.
Sam and Dean exchange a look, both noticing how much this is bothering her. So far the huntress seems to be a lot more careless about cases; she’s more the shoot-to-thrill type. She was willing to leave this case in her rear view mirror after all. Dean carefully attempts to find out what’s really going on with the fellow hunter. “What’s wrong, Zo?”
Instead of answering, she just shakes her head. Avoiding their questioning eyes, Zoë folds her hands together and rests her elbows on her knees. For a long while she doesn’t speak, but then she starts to open up, just a little bit. “I was supposed to watch her,” she claims. “Yet I was goofing around and bored, while she got slaughtered.” “This isn’t your fault,” Sam replies immediately, trying to take away the guilt. “It is.” Her piercing gaze moves to meet his. “I should have known, I should have drawn a conclusion from the first two killings, but I didn’t.” “Hey, we didn’t see this coming either,” Dean brings to mind. “It doesn’t matter. Someone lost their life again while I could’ve prevented it,” she states, her voice fragile now.
Sam furrows his brow, confused. Again? What does she mean? With a questioning look, he glances over at Dean and is surprised by what he sees. Compassion, compassion for Zoë. He realizes Dean might know more about her past, after all, he and Dad worked her case and casted out the demon that possessed her. Dean wasn't in a sharing mood when his younger brother requested more details about what happened back then. Sam thought he didn't know more and that their dad kept him in the dark, but now he begins to realize that he simply didn't want to elaborate on it. Is it not his place to tell? Or did that hunt go wrong?
Dean offers some reassuring words, trying to convince her. “Zo, what happened back then was out of your hands.” “Don’t go there,” she warns. “You shouldn’t still be blaming yourself for that, nor should you feel guilty about today,” he presses. “I said: Don’t. Go. There,” Zoë repeats, glaring over her shoulder. Sam glances from one to the other, disorientated, unable to follow the conversation. The oldest of the Winchester brothers isn’t spooked by the threat, however. “Maybe you should step away from the case,” he suggests. “What?!” she cries out, perplexed. “It’s obvious that you’re emotional about this, Zo,” he starts to explain, deliberately getting under her skin. “Emotional?!” She scoffs, fury in her eyes, pressing her clenched fist in the mattress. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I not allowed to give a fuck about people dying? My mistake!” “I’m just saying that maybe you should let us take care of this one,” he explains.
He might say so, but Dean doesn’t want her to quit. What he does want, is to trigger her. He used the same technique on his brother before and it worked like a charm, it seems like it might just work on the huntress as well. He can sense her blood beginning to boil as she rises to her feet; he really pissed her off this time. “Are you fucking serious right now?! I don’t quit on cases, I don’t take the easy way out!” she yells, pointing at her chest. “You were gonna before you allowed us to help you. So tell me why the hell you’re so worked up all of a sudden,” he bounces back. “No!” Zoë shouts outrageously, her voice hitting a higher tone than she anticipated. “I don’t wanna talk about it!” “It’s been over four years, Zoë. It’s about damn time you talk about it. This isn’t healthy,” Dean pressures. “I just can’t, okay?”
Her voice is suddenly softer now as it breaks, almost begging him to stop. She averts her gaze quickly, but Sam could see her eyes glister. Slowly, he starts to get the idea of what happened back then, remembering the first file in her database, the one consisting of the demon that possessed her. “Zoë, if this has something to do with that Diligo Vesco demon...” he carefully starts off. “Whatever happened, it wasn’t on you.” “My hands--” She holds them up in front of her. “- and his blood all over them. Now don’t you tell me it wasn’t me.”
Confused, Sam cocks his head from Zoë to Dean, who watches the woman with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His stance is still defensive, but his eyes tell a different story, one of empathy. When the huntress spots the confused expression on Sam’s face and turns to Dean as well. “You didn’t tell him?” “I didn’t. Wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with that,” he says.
With a deep breath, she prepares to say the words that bring her so much pain. Words that remind her of that dreadful day, the moment that everything got screwed to hell. Her heartbeat has sped up throughout the conversation, first by anger, but now that she has to admit out loud what went down four years, four months and five days ago, she feels like it’s about to jump out of her chest. A panic attack is prevented when she breathes in through her nose slowly and lets the air flow from her mouth again, repeating it once more while closing her eyes. Then she looks up at Sam and swallows back the tears. She can’t break, she never has and she won’t now. With a trembling voice, she speaks up.
“When I was possessed, I killed my dad.”
Sam’s jaw almost drops to the ground. For a moment he just stares at her, his eyes large, unable to form words. Poor, poor girl. Losing a parent is one thing, but she experienced her father’s murder like she was the one killing. How do you get over that? And just like that, he sees Zoë in a totally different light. Her attitude makes more sense, her eagerness to hunt, her reluctance to new friendships. She lost one of the most important people in her life, no wonder she shut herself in.
Both boys watch her struggle, there’s not much they can do to make her feel better. She walks over to the window and rubs her face. The brothers can’t see the tears run down her cheek, but they know she turned away to prevent them from witnessing her sorrow. She can’t show her weakness, not to them, not to anyone.
Dean notices something about her that he recognizes in himself. The huntress is unable to express how she feels, simply because it hurts too much. It’s easier to stuff it away and sweep it under the rug, hoping that way it doesn’t have to be dealt with, that the pain will slowly fade away over time. But let’s be fair; it doesn’t.
Zoë sighs deeply and takes heart, turning back to them when the tears have stopped falling. “We shouldn’t be talking about me, guys. Our ghost is getting more violent by the hour. We need to stop this,” she reminds them. Sam glances at his brother and their eyes meet. He knows she’s avoiding the subject, but they have to admit there is truth in her words. Laura might be killing someone right now, especially since Sam left the Shire residence unattended. They decide to give it a rest.
“You’re right, let’s get our head back in the game. I’m gonna get the doctor to talk, I won’t take no for an answer.” He grabs his tie from the chair and folds it around his collar as he looks up at Sam, awaiting a follow up from his younger brother. “I’ll check on the Shires and keep you guys in the loop,” Sam suggests. “Sounds good to me. Talk to them too, fire it up a little. Maybe they know more about this. We need more intel to wrap this one up and we need it fast,” Zoë urges, checking her watch and startled to see that it’s almost five o’ clock. “Take the car. I’ll walk, it’s just a block away,” Dean nods at the car keys on the drawer, while struggling with his tie. “C’mere,” Zoë beckons him to edge closer and takes Dean’s tie in her hands. Skillfully, she redoes it, her hands moving swiftly. Dean can’t help to take in her pretty face. Her makeup has run down a little, it emphasizes her frame of mind. Focused on her task at hand, she avoids his unraveling eyes.
“Should I tell them the truth?” Sam proposes. “Not yet,” she tightens Dean’s tie and dares to look up at him. “You try to speak with the doctor first. We're sure he actually knows something, but we aren’t certain about the Shire family. We don’t want to spook them.” “Okay, let’s go then.” Dean picks up his suit jacket and heads for the door. Sam hesitates in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder at the young woman. “What are you gonna do?” “I’m gonna look into Laura, see who she was close to. I can imagine the kid would’ve tried to stay out of that toxic household as much as she could, maybe she stayed over with friends a lot. Could lead to her next victim,” she explains. “We’ll get her, Zo,” Dean assures. “Hell, we will. Taylor was the last one killed by Laura Shire,” she states determined.
Just after she pronounces those words, the door slams and locks. Surprised, Zoë stares at the doorknob, which felt like it was just ripped from her hand. As she slowly turns around, she feels chills running down her spine, the tingling sensation way too familiar. The bathroom light starts to flicker, then the faucet of the sink turns, water splattering on the porcelain. Suddenly the TV flips on, but all broadcasts a disorted image and static noise. She exhales clouds of warm air, her breath condensed, the temperature suddenly changing. It turns ice cold in the room.
Zoë gulps. “Oh, fuck.”
Seems like she doesn’t have to search very long to find Laura’s next victim; it’s her. Anxiously, Zoë searches the room for something iron, but then suddenly the image of the ten year old girl appears in the corner. Her blonde hair looks darkened, her pupils hazed over with white. The nightgown she was wearing the night she was killed is stained with blood. Then her eyes sink deep into their sockets, leaving gaping black holes in her small skull, before her form flickers and suddenly stands right before the huntress. Without an iron forged weapon or anything to use in the huntress’ defence, Zoë stares at the poltergeist for a brief second. This is it; she’s fucked. Even though she realizes the boys can’t hear her, she cries out one of their names at the top of her lungs.
“SAM!!!”
Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).
#Supernatural: the Sullivan Series#Supernatural series#Supernatural OFC#Dean Winchester series#Sam Winchester series#STSS#The Sullivan Series#Supernatural rewrite#Supernatural OFC series#SPN#Supernatural fanfiction#Dean Winchester fanfiction#Sam Winchester fanfiction#Zoë Sullivan#In Bad Waters#Kate Huntington
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Dating Beverly Marsh Would Include...
Requested: [I'm sorry I can't remember who requested this or if this was an anon, I'm sorry!] Hey, could I request some headcanons about dating Beverly? (Also if you could add in the reader having homophobic parents 💕)
Warnings: obviously there will be homophobia, [at the end so people can skip if they need to read safely 😊] specifically from the readers parents so please feel free to skip if need be. And remember my blog is a safe space 💕 oh yeah theres also plenty of grammar/spelling errors i'm sure
A//n: This was WAY longer than I anticipated. I just kept coming up with more stuff and holy crap I love writing Bev x readers???? Please request more Bev Edit: this was in my drafts forever and again as much as i have been trying to get requests out in order, it's been pretty tough but at least this way stuff gets out sooner so here ya go.
Okay
First of all..
Y'all make the CUTEST COUPLE, OKAY?!
Like no joke
You know that cliche about girls stealing their boyfriends hoodies/clothes??
Well that goes for both of you and you both are always swapping clothes cause you both love each other's sense of style
Plus, ya know, it's got that great boyfriend girlfriend smell
It's cheesy and played out, but it's honestly so wholesome, and again, you guys each have an interest in each others senses of styles
If you're bigger than her, and her clothes don't necessarily fit you, pfffttt no big deal, she had a million blankets that smelled like her and then you two got together and now she can only find like,, two. But that doesn't mean she doesn't love stealing your clothes!! They're baggier on her but oH MY GOODNESS DOES SHE LOVE THAT. She just loves being able to completely immerse herself in your stuff. Especially when she isn't feeling safe in her own home and you aren't around, the best thing for her is to wrap herself in her your stuff and be comforted by you. Uggh, its hella sweet
But let's start from the beginning...
Both of you knew about each other from school
You definitely heard the many rumors about "Beaver-ly Marsh"
Not that you participated, but you were always overhearing rumors from gossiping girls and bragging boys in your class
Your school wasn't huge but it wasn't small either
But it was kill or be be killed, and rumors spread like the damn plague
It was inevitable
And it was just a matter of time before you overheard the several rumors of the "slut" who did it with every guy in school.
You'd roll you're eyes at the word and the ridiculous insinuations, knowing the massively overplayed game of telephone that ruled your school was not necessary the most credible source of information
And you were positive there were rumors about you, I mean, it really wasn't possible to go to that school without a rumor going around
Everyone had one
Anyways, you never paid much attention to them, but then you met her...
And oh no.
Immediately, it was:
You already never paid much mind to the rumors, but when you got to know each other??
Nuh uh.
No way
Not Beverly
No no no no, no
She was way too sweet, and shy, and beautiful, and awesome, and funny, annnd oh no the damn butterflies were back and shit she made you feel things
And you??
Bevery had no clue she was into girls until you came along...
You were her gay awakening and her being so used to all those nasty things people said about her and all those boys??
Even though it wasn't true, any of it, she still always expected that eventually one day she'd get her first boyfriend, to love and cuddle with and everything normal
Again, then you came along and her heart was all like
BOOM BOOM BEECH
You both danced around each other a lot. Seeing as you were two precious little gay beans that lived in a conservative town in the 80s, it wasn't exactly the most accepting environment and you guys didn't know if the other was into girls at all
On both sides it was "does she like me or is she just really laid back and friendly???"
It took way too long to figure out you were both into each other
If I'm being completely honest here, y'all were like the female reddie
Two girls who became best friends and always bickered like crazy to hide your feelings
The way you two found out you had feelings for one another was bumpy and awkward but silly and cute nonetheless
It came off in a passing comment that just slipped out
The two of you were having a sleepover like you did every Friday night you were available
and you two were laying on her bedroom floor talking about anything and everything staring at the ceiling
Her radio was playing in the background and the two of you were surrounded by various snacks you had been munching on all throughout the night and the conversation drifted to gossip about your peers at school
It went a little something like this:
Y: "Did you see so and so today??"
B: "Yes!!"
Y: *laughing* "Yeah, what the hell was that?"
B: I have no idea what goes on in her head...
B: but I guess I gotta give her some credit, she's always super confident and I'm like, 90% sure that's what makes her the most desirable girl in the 8th grade"
Y: "I guess that makes sense"
B: "I do wish I had her confidence. Maybe I'd have better luck romantically"
Y: "Oh please, like you need that. You're infinitely more attractive than her"
B: "What?"
Y: *panicked* "What?"
B: *slowly sits up with smug ass smirk on her lips* are you saying you find me... attractive?"
Y: ..."what?" *sweating*
B: *still smirking* "Wait,"
Y: "WhAT?"
B: *stILL smirking* "do you-?"
Y: *full on gay panic* "No!"
B: *smirking and blushing*
B: *lays back down* "well, I think you're pretty attractive yourself, if it's any consolation"
She's still so nervous though so it comes out in a whisper
She's 99 percent certain you just accidentally revealed your crush to her but her heart was p o u n d i n g anyway
What if it just came out wrong and that's why you panicked???
Had she just revealed her crush to you by mistake???
But no
You both were a blushing mess and it did not go unnoticed by either one of you
You're hands kinda accidently brushed and you both just had a heart attack on the spot
But the connection you two had that night
You both just... knew
You guys kinda just... happened
After that you both were aware you liked each other
But it was kind of unspoken
At first
It's not like you guys never talked about it, but you two definitely became more touchy and flirty
Holding hands when no one was looking
Shortly before you guys happened and before that night, she had introduced you to losers and they just totally accepted you as one of their own
You got along especially well with Richie (wonder why)
But Bev wasn't too happy about this particular fact...
Especially after you two got together
She wasn't necessarily jealous, especially cause she already had a sneaking suspicion about his feelings for another loser, but because he took up a lot of her time with you
But then, to her chagrin, Richie found out about you two
the eight of you were hanging out in the clubhouse, and Ben had to make some adjustments so him and the others left momentarily to help him get the resources
Except you, and Bev
You two volunteered to hold down the fort [literally]
aaaaaaand you two wanted to have a few minutes alone together too,
Nothing scandalous or anything like that, but you two didn't get be close around the losers
Then Richie returned way earlier than expected [turns out he was doing more harm than good and they sent him back]
He was just outside the entrance and he overheard you two
"I wish we could tell them,"
"I know. And it's not that I don't think they'll accept us, it's-" *sigh* "I'm just not ready... I'm sorry"
"Don't be. It's okay, we can tell them when we're both good and ready."
"Thank you, Y/n."
Richie just kinda stood there thinking about what he just heard
I mean, it made sense, you guys were really close, but then again, that's just how he thought all girls were
But everything else kinda made more sense the more he thought about it
And, it honestly reminded him of him and Eddie
More specifically, how he felt about his best friend
Now naturally this was a very emotional moment, but Richie Tozier being Richie Tozier wasn't about to waltz in there and give some sappy speech about he accepts you guys and he's here for you no matter what
No, no, no
He laid down on the forest floor, sticking his head in the clubhouse scaring the shit out of you two and said
"You guys should really be more quiet, Ben may be a suspiciously good overnight kid architect sensation but he has yet to soundproof this baby"
He then stuck his arm inside the clubhouse, patting the ceiling, shaking a couple spiders loose from his his hand in disgust
"Richie...!"
You two jumped apart and you about nearly shit your pants
"Relax, I'm not gonna tell anyone,"
You both were startled as hell and absolutely disgruntled but the two of you looked at each other, simultaneously breathing a sigh of relief
He got up and joined you two in the clubhouse, and began lounging in his usual spot in the hammock, arms behind his head
"So, this means you two are both into girls, huh?"
Once again, you looked at one another and back at him, nodding shyly
He plastered on the most mischievous smirk you had ever seen and nodded his head, his huge eyes squinting slightly from behind his glasses
"niceee"
This of course was followed by simultaneous eye rolls, Bev even threw her gum wrapper at him but you laughed
It was a relieved laugh
Here you were, exposed and unintentionally outed to Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier and sure enough his reaction was "nICE"
It was honestly a relief and kinda hilarious
You guys just kinda broke out into laughter
It was nice moment
***TRIGGER WARNING FOR [PARENTAL] HOMOPHOBIA BELOW***
And for a while, everything was great. That was, until your parents began to take note just how much time you were spending with Bev
They kept an eye on it at first
Then they started asking questions
You knew this day would come one way or another
Hell, you grew up with them after all, you knew what they thought about people like you and it broke your heart
It terrified you
And it's exactly what you heard every night when you tried to fall asleep, their voices speaking to you clear as day; how disgusted they were. They weren't really there of course and it wasn't until you became a loser that you found out what that voice was...
The point is, your deepest fear was being realized so you did what you could do
Lie
And it seemed to work. Briefly
Your mother had come in to check on you two for the fifth time - usually she checked on you two four times since their suspicions - and found you two snuggled up on top of your sleeping bags
Your mother screamed, scaring the crap out of you guys and you jumped apart
Your mother was thrown into hysterics and went to fetch your father, wailing like a damn baby
Needless to say that night was a long one for everyone
And as if things couldn't get any worse, just days later you found out that Beverly had been taken by It
Immediately, every doubt, every fear, every inkling of shame your parents and your community had drilled into you was forgotten and all that mattered was getting her back
You and your friends literally went through hell to get her back
Needless to say it was a terrifying ordeal but you all had each other's backs and everyone came out okay
When you left Neibolt, you and Beverly were hand in hand
You couldn't give a flying fck about it, you just fought a shape-shifting demon clown you could face your small minded parents
And more importantly you knew even if your parents didn't support you, you had other people who did that and that was enough
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
Hope you enjoyed, sorry it's so long and again this is out of order of who requested it so I'm sorry to those of you who had stuff in before this, but I've just been stuck for too long and I needed to get things moving again. Anyways, I hoped you guys like this and again, omg I love writing Beverly!!! I would not be offended if you guys asked for more Bev fics/hc when I open up requests again
#beverly marsh headcanon request#beverly marsh imagine#beverly marsh x reader#beverly marsh#headcanon#head canon#beverly marsh headcanon#beverly marsh head canon#bev head canon#beverly hc#beverly marsh hc#bev marsh hc#hc#hc request#homphobia#homophobia warning#it#it requests#it request
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Interview by Veronica Bianchi-
-paraphrased to include my favorite bits & alongside my crazy ramblings!
I feel like this must have been previously posted here, either in full or in part, beyond just including a quote or two in a compilation, but I can’t find it and I also don’t really care...because I’d post it anyway regardless lol, so...let’s get right into it:
••••••••
Interviewer: “Tough guy or softy?”
Jared: “People often expect me to be the gentle one of the two of us.”
Jensen: “That’s not just suspected. It’s also true.”
Jared: “Yeah, I admit...I can be a pretty big softy.”
Jensen: “Did you or did you not cry during Toy Story 3?”
(I just adore the mental image of J2 cuddled up watching Toy Story 3 together ❤️ and Jared gets all teared up into Jensen’s lap while Jensen pretends to be mildly exasperated but soothingly rubs Jared’s head and also finds it secretly endearing)
•••••
Jared (on his relationship with Jensen): “That’s almost impossible to explain. Nine months of the year we’re stuck together, but even when we’re not actually working during those nine months, or during the other three months out of the year for that matter, we always find ourselves choosing to be together.”
(This has obviously become such a famous J2-ism, and with good reason! My favorite thing about it is how Jared starts off by saying that his relationship with Jensen is impossible to explain, but then by the end of his answer, in one long sentence, he’s managed to pretty undeniably convey the fact that they are CLEARLY, CLEARLY soulmates who literally cannot be separated from each other.) 💕
•••••
Jensen: “If you compare our relationship to Sam and Dean’s relationship, there is a huge difference. Jared never drives me up a wall.”
Jared: “I wouldn’t say never.”
Jensen: “Not like you’re actually driving me up a wall. We can talk to each other about anything, do anything together...and that’s pretty unique.”
Jared: “Yeah! And whenever we’ve fought, it’s been for each other.”
Jensen: “We have that loyalty, and I can honestly say I’d jump in front of a bullet for him and never think twice.”
Jared: “And the best part of Jensen’s and my relationship is it’s gonna be that way while we’re doing the show and when we’re not. He’s stuck with me for life now, and that’s important.”
(I mean, what to even say about all this that isn’t already completely obvious? I will say that these interviews always make me nostalgic for the earlier days when the Js were so blatant about their much-more-than-platonic relationship in so many ways that it’s a miracle there’s a single person who was around for those years and paying attention who didn’t glue on the old tinhat.)
•••••
Jared (on their approach toward what they look like/style/etc.): “Jensen thinks he’s a cowboy.”
Jensen: “I’m not going out and buying a ranch or anything.”
Jared: “You still think you’re a cowboy at heart though.”
(I can just see it soooo clearly, cowboy Jensen! Also, we literally HAVE seen it now.)
Jared (to Jensen as he continues to answer the question): “I’m not wearing anything special, am I?”
Jensen: “Just flannel, like you and Sam always are.”
Jared: “‘Cause your clothes are always so stylish.”
Jensen: “They are.”
(another thing I can visualize so clearly, Jared huffily/teasingly saying “cause your clothes are always so stylish,” and Jensen just being like ohh “they are” with a little smirk.)
Umm and THIS is an obviously necessary addition:
•••••
Jensen: “I haven’t needed any salt yet to ward off evil spirits in my home.”
Jared: “We totally sleep with salt guns. He lies.”
•••••
Interviewer: “Nerds or lady-killers?”
Jensen: “Nerd!”
Jared: “Also nerd.”
Jensen (on females who are into them): “It’s flattering, but not something we concern ourselves with.”
(because they’re gay and also husbands, but...you know)
•••••
Jared (on possible work-opportunities outside of SPN): “We always make those kinds of decisions together.”
Jensen: “We don’t begrudge each other those kinds of projects, even though we call each other often to talk about how relaxed we actually have it on the set of SPN.”
(certainly not because they’re too codependent to make it through something like that without talking constantly on the phone or anything)
Jared (on working with Jensen again after or even during SPN): “In other words, soon you might be able to book us as a duo!”
(I’m having a memory now of least this one particular segment being posted, and I’m going to repeat the exact same thoughts: this always sounds so much like an engagement hint to me. 😜)
•••••
Interviewer (lightning round): “Hair color?”
Jensen: “I think I’m naturally like a dark blondish.”
Jared: “Okay, Ken.”
(OMG, guys, another one that needs to be added to the ‘things-the-Js-have-called-each-other’ post. But also, does that make Jared Barbie? Hehe)
•••••
Interviewer (lightning round): “Other person’s best qualities?”
Jared: “Great ass!”
Jensen: “Gorgeous laugh and smile!”
Jared: “He’s a great guy, a good listener…and he’s ungodly faithful.”
(the “ungodly faithful” thing is my absolute favorite)
•••••
Interviewer (lightning round): “Other person’s worst qualities?”
Jensen: “Oh god, here we go.”
Jared: “He is such a control freak!”
(first, how much more husbandly could they POSSIBLY be?? Second, an alpha Jensen reference! Be still my heart. ❤️)
•••••
Jared (his favorite book): “The Great Gatsby.”
Jensen: “You’re such a girl.”
(heh 😏)
•••••
Jared (on their favorite movies): “[Jensen’s] really in love with Clint Eastwood.”
Jensen: “He’s the best!”
•••••
Jared (answering for Jensen, favorite music): “-country.”
Jensen: “Yes, country.”
Jared: “I like country, but Jensen loves country. There’s nothing like being woken up at 4:00 in the morning to Taylor Swift.”
(the official end of the above sentence is “-blasting from the trailer next to yours,” but I feel like Jared totally just phrased it that way to ‘un-suspicious’ his answer)
Jared (continuing, to Jensen): “You love Taylor Swift!”
Jensen: “I know I do.”
Jared: “And here I was calling you a manly man earlier.”
(Me: *below*)
Do tell, Jared!
•••••
Interviewer: “Main ambitions?”
Jensen: “I want to be as good of an actor as I can possibly be, keep my private-and-family-life private, and put up with this one over here. (…)”
Jared: “(…) I want to be very thankful and appreciative and never let any of it get to my head.”
Jensen: “You won’t. I’ll keep you grounded.”
Jared: “I know. I’ll always have that to rely on.”
(Sooo many examples in this interview of the Js either literally talking about being together forever or pretty much literally talking about it: “I’ll always have that to rely on.”)
•••••
A couple of other favorite bits that didn’t make it in above:
Jensen (about Jared preparing to film a certain scene): “He’d been working out for weeks...with good results!”
(admiring those muscles, eh Jensen? 😉)
•••••
Jensen: “I prefer to keep away from the red carpet world of Hollywood and avoid the paparazzi.”
(because it ties into Jensen’s last answer about keeping his private life private)
•••••
Jensen (to Jared): “You sound like an extendz commercial, like you’re the ‘larger man.’”
Jared: “Well, if you want to put it that way…”
(*smirks*)
•••••
And I accidentally deleted this answer from above while editing:
Jared (after Jensen told the Jared-ripping-his-pants story): “I’m really thinking hard about an embarrassing story to tell about you right now, but I can’t think of any that wouldn’t get me into trouble.”
(at least half of the stories in Jared’s head were dirty in nature or revolved around dirty moments, let’s be real)
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REVIEW
Jackson by Emily March
Eternity Springs (16): The Brides of Texas #1
Cousins Jackson, Boone and Tucker inherit land in Texas that they will eventually turn into a B&B, Saloon, Music Hall and more. All three will no doubt star in a separate book in this series. This book is Jackson’s story. Although this is a spin off from the Eternity Springs series it is not necessary to read that series to enjoy this standalone book.
Jackson McBride is a songwriter that lost his muse when he lost custody of his young daughter at the end of his acrimonious less than polite marriage’s end. When he sees Caroline Carruthers in Redemption his muse tingles but doesn’t do much more than that and as Caroline is soon dealing with the loss of her husband it is a good thing they have a span of time between that first meeting and their second.
In Redemption the two meet up again while he works on getting the inherited property ready for guests while she works to open the bookshop she purchased in Redemption. Neither Jackson nor Caroline claimt o be ready to tangle with love again but the two do become friends...then friends with benefits...and eventually more. Their story is fairly easy to read without big bumps in the road. I enjoyed Jackson and Caroline together and felt they were a good match. Both trusted and cared and had their priorities straight. Even when Jackson had to deal with issues from his past the two weathered the situation well and were supporting of one another. I loved Haley, Jackson’s daughter, though there was little of her in the book.
I enjoyed this easy read and look forward to reading Tucker’s and Boone’s stories as I wonder if perhaps Jackson’s ex-wife will get it together and find true love, too.
Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Press for the ARC – This is my honest review.
4-5 Stars
SYNOPSIS
From New York Times bestselling author Emily March comes Jackson, the newest novel in the critically acclaimed Eternity Springs series.
Sometimes it takes a new beginning Caroline Carruthers thinks she buried her dreams along with the love of her life…until a stranger named Celeste dares her to chase a dream all on her own. Moving to Redemption, Texas, is chapter one in Caroline’s new life story. Opening a bookstore is the next. Finding love is the last thing on her mind as she settles into this new place called home. But when she meets a handsome, soulful man who’s also starting over, all bets are off.
to reach a happily-ever-after Jackson McBride came to Redemption looking only to find himself, not someone to love. Ever since his marriage ended, he’s been bitter. Sure, he used to believe in love—he even has the old song lyrics to prove it—but the Jackson of today is all business. That is, until a beautiful young widow who’s moved to town inspires a change of heart. Could it be that the myth of Redemption’s healing magic is true…and Jackson and Caroline can find a second chance at a happy ending after all?
Buy-Book Link:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250314918
EXCERPT
Chapter One Excerpt
Nashville, Tennessee
Bang. The judge’s gavel fell and officially crushed Jackson McBride’s heart. He closed his eyes. Bleak despair washed over him. Up until this very moment, he hadn’t believed she’d take it this far.
He’d thought she’d come to her senses. He’d thought she would recognize that this proposal was not only nonsense, but truly insane. He’d believed that somewhere deep inside of her, she still had a spark of humanity. That she wouldn’t do this to him. To them. He’d been wrong.
Damn her. Damn her and the yes-men she surrounded herself with. Damn them all to hell and back.
The enormity of what had just happened washed over him. Oh, God, how will
I survive this?
On the heels of his anguish came the rage. It erupted hot as lava, and it fired his blood and blurred his vision with a red haze of fury. He’d never hit a woman in his life. Never come close, despite plenty of provocation from her direction. In that moment had she been within reach, he might have lived up her accusations.
It scared the crap out of him. That’s what she’s brought me to.
Abruptly, he shoved back his chair so hard that it teetered, almost falling over. He strode toward the courtroom exit. “Jackson? Jackson, wait!” his attorney called, hurrying after him.
Jackson waved her off and didn’t stop. There was nothing left to be said. Nothing left to be done. No place left to go.
No little girl waiting at home to hug and cuddle and kiss good night.
The tap on the toes of Jackson’s boots clacked against the tile floor of the courthouse as his long-legged strides ate up the hallway. He shunned the elevator for the stairs and descended three flights at a rapid pace, then headed for the building’s exit. In a foolish bit of positive thinking, he’d driven his SUV to the courthouse this morning. Now the sight of the safety booster seat in the back seat made him want to kick a rock into next week.
He didn’t want to go home to a quiet, empty house. He shouldn’t go to a bar. Alcohol on top of his current mood could be a dangerous combination. Somebody probably would get hurt.
He got into the car and started the engine. For a long moment he sat unmoving, staring blindly through the windshield, his hands squeezing the steering wheel so hard that it should have cracked. When his phone rang, he ignored it.
A couple of minutes later, it rang a second time. Again, he ignored it. When it happened a third time, he finally glanced at the display to see who was calling. His cousin. Okay, maybe he would answer it.
“Hello, Boone.”
“How did the hearing go?”
Jackson couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat, so he said nothing.
Following a moment’s silence, Boone got the message. He muttered a curse, and then said, “I’m sorry, man. So damn sorry.”
“Well, it is what it is.”
“You can take another run at it.”
“Yeah.” In three years. Three years. Might as well be three decades. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “So, how are things in Eternity Springs?”
“Good. They’re good. My friend Celeste Blessing visited my office a few minutes ago and spoke of her granite-headed cousin. Naturally, I thought of you.”
“Naturally,” Jackson dryly replied. But he felt a little less alone.
“Do you have plans this weekend? I could use your help with something.”
Pretty convenient timing. Knowing Boone, he had a spy in the courtroom. But Jackson wasn’t in the position to ignore the bone he’d been thrown. “I’m free. Whatcha got?”
“I’d like you to meet me at home.”
Jackson straightened in surprise. “You’re going back to the ranch?”
“No. Not there. I’m never going back there. However, I am talking about Texas. The Hill Country in particular. A little town west of Austin called Redemption.”
“Redemption, Texas?” Jackson repeated. For some weird reason, his heart gave a little skip. “Why there?”
“It’s a long story. Too long for a phone call. I’ll give you the entire skinny when I see you. When can you get there?”
After today’s debacle, Jackson had absolutely no reason to remain in Nashville. “When do you want me there?”
“I’ll be in later today. I’m in Austin now. I’ve been helping a friend with a project. I have a flight back to Colorado Sunday evening. The earlier you can get here the better, but I’ll make anything work.”
Jackson figured the distance and the drive time. “I’ll meet you tomorrow afternoon. Where?”
“Great. I’ll text you the info when we hang up. Bring camping gear.”
When a sound behind him had Jackson glancing up into the rearview mirror and the booster seat caught his notice, he made an instant decision. “Can’t. I’ll be on my bike.”
“You’re gonna ride your motorcycle all the way from Nashville?”
“Yes, I think I am.”
“Okay. I’ll bring stuff for both of us.” Boone hesitated a moment and added, “Hang in there,
Jackson. It’ll get better.”
No, I don’t think it will. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jackson ended the call and finally put his SUV in gear and backed out of the parking place. With the distraction of the call behind him, fury returned, and by the time he reached home, he felt like a volcano about to explode.
He threw a handful of things into his tail bag, filled his wallet with cash from his stash, and ten minutes after his arrival, he fired up his bike and took his broken heart and headed out of Nashville. He left behind his home, his work, and his one reason for living, his six-year-old daughter, Haley.
From Jackson. Copyright © 2019 by Emily March and reprinted with permission from St. Martin’s Paperbacks.
AUTHOR BIO
Emily March is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the heartwarming Eternity Springs series. A graduate of Texas A&M University, Emily is an avid fan of Aggie sports and her recipe for jalapeño relish has made her a tailgating legend.
Q&A JACKSON
1. You wrote a book! That’s pretty awesome. Why don’t you tell us a bit about what inspired Jackson and the rest of the books in the Eternity Springs world?
The saying “Write what you know” says it all in my case. I’m a small-town girl and my family and friendships are center to my world. I write about love and family and friendships. I have roots in both the Colorado Rockies and the Texas Hill Country, so it was natural for me to set Eternity Springs and Redemption there. The idea for JACKSON grew out of my interest in the music currently being written and performed in Texas. I’ve always thought singer/songwriters are romantic figures so I was excited to create a hero with this background. Unfortunately, I’m not a musician and I’m definitely not a singer, but I am creative so it was fun for me to explore that aspect of a character.
2. Introduce us to your main character!
Okay. Well, Americana singer/songwriter Jackson McBride is a bit damaged when the book begins. His famous, talented and wealthy ex has won a custody battle that severely limits his access to his six-year-old daughter, so Jackson goes home to the Texas Hill Country to nurse his broken heart. He finds solace in Enchanted Canyon hiking the trails with the dog he rescues and working to bring a historic dance hall back to life. The last thing he expects is to find love again with a woman whose heart is as battered as his own.
3. Walk us through a day in the life of Emily March.
Ready to be bored? Now that my daughter’s and niece’s weddings are behind me—they consumed me for months—I’m boring and happy about it. I split my time between Fort Worth where we have a condo downtown in a 1930’s passenger train station and our lake house in the Texas Hill Country. I recently gave up my office in town because I’m spending more and more time at the lake. My husband also offices out of our condo, so on days when we are both working in town, I’ve started riding the new TexRail train that runs from our building to DFW airport. It’s quiet and comfortable and I don’t have Internet to distract me. And at $5 a day, it’s much cheaper than office rent. :) When I’m at the lake I’m either working or doing yard work. My new favorite toy is my power washer.
4. Lots of aspiring authors out there. Any advice for them?
I’ve always thought that one of the most important things you can do for your writing is to read. And read. And read some more. Read across genres. You absorb so much about pacing and plotting and character development when you read. Plus, you get to READ! :)
5. How is the Jackson trilogy different than your other series?
I don’t think it’s necessarily different from the rest of the Eternity Springs series. I write about love and family and friendship—that doesn’t change. Readers will still see old friends from Eternity Springs and a few scenes in JACKSON are set in Colorado. What’s new is we get to spend some time in the Texas Hill Country and meet a few new characters—Celeste’s cousin, Angelica, for example.
6. I know asking someone’s all-time favorite book is a loaded question so what’s your current favorite read?
I’m a big fan of Patricia Brigg’s Mercy Thompson series and I’m reading her latest right now, STORM CURSED.
7. Alright, the ultimate question: why should we read your book?
My goals as a writer are to touch a reader’s heart, to entertain her and make her laugh, to maybe cry a little and sigh with satisfaction upon reaching the end. With JACKSON, I believe I’ve achieved those goals.
8. Describe yourself in 3 words.
Family. Family. Family. :)
9. What is your most embarrassing memory?
Walking out of the junior high school cafeteria in seventh grade, not realizing that my very short dress—it was the 70’s—had gotten hung up in my underwear and I inadvertently flashed my rear end to the entire cafeteria—including the tables where the football players sat. Thinking about it even today gives me the hives.
10. Favorite quote or scene you wrote in JACKSON?
I love the ending. Jackson is a songwriter who has lost his music and when he finds it again…the song he sings to Caroline…just makes me melt.
11. What is one piece of advice you would tell everyone?
Call your mother.
12. What inspired you to become a writer?
I’ve always loved to read, so that is part of it, but my father was my primary inspiration. He was a fabulous storyteller. I grew up sitting at his feet and listening to him tell stories about his youth and his experiences in Europe during World War II. Listening to him tell his stories was my favorite thing to do. I didn’t inherit his talent for verbal storytelling, but I think I learned from him how to tell a good story on the page.
13. Do you have any interesting writing quirks or habits?
Like I mentioned before, I’m pretty boring. My perks and habits are always evolving. The train writing thing is new for me. I usually write on a laptop and edit on a desktop. I listen to movie soundtracks when I write and always finish a book with The Last of the Mohicans.
14. What has been one of the most surprising things you’ve learned as a published author
I’m always a little surprised and honored that readers are excited to meet me. Like I said…I’m a boring person.
15. What is your favorite state to visit? Colorado, of course, because I must keep returning to Eternity Springs. :)
16. What are hobbies or interests do you have?
We are lake people, so I love waterskiing and boating and fishing. As I write this we’ve just finished Memorial Day weekend at the lake, so I sort of feel like chief cook and sheet-and-towel washer, too. I love, love, love hosting big holiday gatherings of family and friends at the lake house, but I will admit I do tire of the mountain of laundry in the aftermath.
17. Can you tell us about what’s coming up next after this for you writing wise?
I’m writing Tucker’s story. Fun fact for this—as part of my research I attended a survivalist training school for a weekend. I searched long and hard to find one where I could return to town to spend the night in a comfy hotel rather than sleep on the ground—I’m only willing to go so far for my art. I did learn to start a friction fire, though, something I’me VERY proud of. :)
18. How can readers connect with you online?
My website is www.emilymarch.com. I’m active on Facebook. My Facebook page is www.facebook.com/emilymarchbooks. You can also reach me by email at [email protected].
#Emily March#St. Martin's Press#NetGalley#Eternity Springs 16#Brides of Texas 1#Contemporary Romance#Cowboy Romance#small town romance
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