#a tale of english and math masterlist

[lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love]

Masterlist #2 Updated 06/09/2023

One Shots

Stepdad Hemsworth @waywardinfluencervoid — Stepdad!Chris Hemsworth x stepdaughter!reader (platonic)

Part 2 to a Cancer Fic I Wrote @huntective-kyeo — Marvel Cast x f!reader (platonic); pt. 1 @storiesbystarlight

Adopted Hemsworth (requested by anonymous) — Hemsworth family x adopted!reader

Iron Dad (requested by anonymous) — RDJ & Chris Evans x reader (platonic)

Happy 21st @youre-amazing-say-it — Marvel Cast x reader (platonic)

Shaving the Head (requested by anonymous) — Chris Evans x daughter!reader

Trying (requested by anonymous) — Marvel cast x teen!reader

Teen Spirits @supernerdycookietrashblr — Danny F. x Reader

Series

Who Am I? Masterlist — Chris Evans x Younger!Sister!Reader (in progress)

Dead to Me Masterlist — Daryl Dixon x Reader (in progress)

Crimson and Clover Masterlist @idk123906 — Chris Evans x Undercover!Female!Reader (in progress)

A Silent Voice Masterlist — Sebastian Stan x Female!Reader (in progress)

High Hopes Masterlist @kj-1130 — Marvel cast x actor!gn!reader (in progress)

A Tale of English and Math Masterlist inspired by @aescapisms and company — English Professor!Bucky Barnes x Math Professor!Reader/AU!Marvel (in progress)

Til It Happens To You Masterlist — Bucky Barnes x F!Reader (in progress)

This Year’s Love Masterlist — Sam Winchester x Half Demon!F!Reader (in progress)

California Dreamin’ Masterlist (requested by anonymous) — Marvel cast x gn!teen!reader (in progress)

The End of Something Masterlist — Rick Grimes x Reader AU (in progress)

Every Beginning Ends — Pedro!Joel Miller x OC!Mary Hernandez (in progress)

Prompt List

50 Dialogue Prompt List

100 Prompt List

300 Prompt List

I Was Bored Prompt List

Ideas

A Tale of English and Math: Where It All Began

Masterlist #1

Permanent Tag List:

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[borhapparker]

ben hardy and soulmate + teacher au?

let's do this!! im back baby!

request here! | (UPDATED) list of characters | masterlist (NEW)

fyi: some links wont work as i am actively working on reworking my blog so please bare with me as i remake everything and publish things repeatedly (:

Soulmates were not for everyone, and some considered them to be folk tales. Not everyone had someone out there for them, and most would never meet them. Yet, there was something about knowing you were tethered to someone out there that made it all possible. Anything you ever dreamed of seemed real when the prospect of having another half to share it with was real.

Yet, life didn't stop when finally found the one. And it definitely didn't stop while you were actively looking for one either.

The coffee maker in the kitchen beeped, as you walked over, clad in socks to prepare your warm coffee, which you would end up drinking cold anyway. The teaching lesson you had prepared the night before was on the counter, ready to be taught to your class as you began to slip on your vans, a signature piece in all your teaching outfits. There was something about commandeering the classroom in vans that made you feel invincible, especially when you were teaching high school alone for the first time.

When the principal, your good friend Robbie Andrews approached you about being a solo teacher, after years of working with a partner, you took up the opportunity quickly. It had been something you dreamt about for a long time, and you were finally there.

But now the nerves were showing, your hands slightly shaking at the thought of having to reel in a bunch of 9th graders in the subject of English and Writing.

Your phone pinged from the living room, as you crossed the kitchen, disconnecting your phone from the charger attached to the wall. The screen was lit with a text from your best friend, the person who had been teaching Math for as long as you had.

'Ready?'

'Ready as I'll ever be, I guess. What about you?'

'I'm already on campus, teacher meeting before class starts. Hurry up, teach!'

"Shit," you cursed out loud as you grabbed your bag, making sure everything was inside as you spilled your coffee on the floor. "Dammit!"

Placing a towel over it, you quickly cleaned it up before grabbing your keys and running out the door, going into your car, and driving as quickly and safely as you could to campus. Immediately parking, you ran across the lot to the auditorium where all the teachers were waiting, the meeting barely beginning. Skidding into a seat next to Ben, you glared at him.

"Seriously? You forgot to remind me?"

"Nah," he smirked, "I figured you wouldn't remember so I just wanted to surprise you."

"Ass."

The meeting went on as you took mental notes about protocols and welcomed the new staff for the year. As the meeting was about to conclude, the principal called everyone's attention to Ben and yourself, as he congratulated both of you on another year at the campus. Dismissing everyone, you and Ben walked to your respective classes, across the way from each other as you gave him a hug.

"You ready?" you asked him as he nodded and smiled.

"Hey, where's your coffee?" Ben asked as you frowned. "Dropped it again?"

Nodding, he sighed before smiling.

"I'll get you another, just text me your order."

"Thanks, Ben." you smiled before you both walked into your classrooms.

Sighing, you placed your items on the desk, and picked up the whiteboard marker, writing your name on the board for everyone to see. Remembering that you had made a schedule of the day, your hands pushed the pieces of paper on your desk as you gripped the schedule before beginning to write it out on the board.

That had been a suggestion you had received from a former student, and you took it to heart, knowing some students get anxious not knowing what was next on the agenda for the day.

The commotion was heard outside your classroom, as you connected your phone to the speakers, playing your favorite songs, and your laptop to the projector, as the presentation was projected for the first day.

"Let's do this."

-

The day had progressed rather quickly, as you got to know your new students in the first and second periods, having the third period to relax before getting your homeroom students, where you organized a game to play with everyone. Lunchtime couldn't come faster, as you and Ben headed over to the fast food place across the way, grabbing lunch and settling back into your classroom, making room on your now messy desk.

"So, how has it been?" he asked as you smiled.

"Good! Seems like I am connecting with them better than I was last year, that's for sure." he laughed as he remembered an incident with a student last year. "Please don't-"

"Remember when you got pied in the face that one time while you were giving the lecture on Charles Dickens?" Ben's laugh filled your classroom as you chucked a tiny container of salsa at him, as it missed and landed on the floor. "That was a classic."

"I couldn't get the whipped cream out of my cardigan after that! I think they dyed it because it only turned all my socks pink instead of cleaning it after I washed it."

"Well, at least you won't have that happening anymore." he sighed as he frowned. "Hey, have you heard anything from your soulmate recently?"

You shook your head as Ben mirrored your actions. "He's been quiet recently." sighing, you undid your ponytail and let your hair hang loose, "Maybe he stopped being such a daredevil and is being safe now, considering all the injuries I got while he was out doing some crazy stuff."

He nodded, a pondering look on his face, as he shrugged. "Mine has been quiet, she hasn't been doing much recently. But something happened today that was odd."

Tilting your head, you took a bite from your tacos as he continued.

"I could hear music in the distance and it sounded a lot like Metallica, which was odd considering the last thing I heard them play was Whitney Houston."

"Clearly, their music taste is amazing." you laughed as he nodded with a sad smile.

"I really want to see them already."

"Me too."

-

Your fourth period came around, as the students piled inside, everyone taking a seat wherever they wanted as you opened up the same presentation you did in your last classes.

"Good afternoon everyone!" they echoed your welcome as you smiled, "Alrighty, who's ready to play a game?"

They cheered as you opened up Kahoot, a classic classroom game that clearly hyped up their energy as the classroom erupted into louder cheers.

As everyone signed in, you began the game, everyone cheering and arguing when it came to certain rounds. Suddenly, your classroom door opened as you looked up, noticing a certain blonde in the doorway, holding two coffees directly from your favorite coffee shop.

"Lifesaver! Thank you!"

He smiled as you gave him a half-hug before he waved at the students and walked into his classroom.

"Miss Y/n?" a student raised their hand as you nodded, walking back to your desk and pausing the game. "Is Mr. Hardy your boyfriend?"

You chuckled and smiled, "No he isn't, we're just good friends. We've been teaching here together for a few years now."

A chorus of oohs was heard across the classroom as a blush enveloped your cheeks.

"Look! Miss Y/n is blushing!"

"Wait, guys! What about Mr. Hardy being her soulmate?" one student yelled out as everyone began agreeing, trying to connect the dots between your friendship as you watched in amusement, a blush coating your cheeks.

"Alright, alright! Let's get back to Kahoot! I have donuts for the winners!"

The chatter slowly died down, not going away completely as everyone's attention was turned back to the game, some still talking about the friendship between the two teachers.

Your mind began to wander, as the students kept playing, their words echoing in your mind. All those times you felt pain and anguish from your soulmate, Ben had mentioned getting hurt in small incidents at home, wether that be with his skateboard or practicing his drums in the music room. They seemed really distant in the moment, but looking back, you realized it was a possibility.

Having mentioned that he heard Metallica and Whitney Houston being played, you remember playing two distinct songs for your game in first period, realizing the connection was getting bigger the more you began digging into memories with Ben.

What if your best friend was your soulmate? There was only one way to find out.

They mentioned that soulmates have tattoos on their body that their other half mirror and both people share one image on their bodies. This made everyone unique from other partnerships, and you had never shown Ben yours.

Finishing the class, you dismissed everyone as the bell rang for the end of the day, everyone now piling out of classroom and into thier cars to begin the journey home, as you stayed behind, wanting to have everything organized for the next day.

"Y/n?" Ben called out as you smiled and let him come inside your class. "You ready to go?"

"Almost," you sighed as you finished placing the notebooks on the shelf you made for your students, each with their own name and class period so you can remember which one is which without needing to read chicken scratch on the front.

"Hey, Ben?" he tilted his head, "Do you still have your soulmate tattoo?"

He nodded, "Haven't seen it go anywhere just yet."

"Can I see it?"

Shocked, he gulped, before nodding. Grabbing the end of his flannel, the slipped it off his shoulders, exposing the black t-shirt adorning his torso. He sighed shakily, before pulling up the shirt, and turning around, as you let out an audible gasp.

There it was, the mirror to your own tattoo.

"Ben?"

He turned his head and locked eye contact over his shoulder.

"It's me."

Your words did not register in his mind immediately, as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration before realization hit. Eyes widening, he let the shirt drop, as he placed his hands on your waist.

"Y/n?"

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, as he smiled.

"We are soulmates?"

All you could do was nod, as he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you into a hug as you placed yours on his back, pulling him closer.

"God, I love you."

"I love you too."

Unbeknownst to you, your students had been standing outside the classroom, peering in through the window as they cheered silently, knowing their plan had worked.

Soulmates were hard to find, and some never end up finding their own pair, living in the world without another half.

Yet, yours was right next to you, for the last 8 years.

You couldn't ask for more.

#ambs talks #ambs writing #ben hardy #teacher au #soulmate au #ben hardy imagines #ben hardy writing #ben hardy one shots #ben hardy au #ben hardy blurb #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #ben hardy x female!reader #borhap #bohemian rhapsody

[musings-of-a-rose]

A Tale of 2 Javi's - Part 2

A Tale of Two Javi’s

Pairing: Javier Peña, Javi Gutierrez x f!reader (reader is married to Javi G)

Word Count: 8900+ (a little long, I’m sorry)

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Please note this is part 2 of 3! 

I’m doing math so you don’t have to (just in case you’re a nerd like me):

Javier P arrives in Colombia: 1987

Javier and Reader Meet: Spring of 1988

Javier and Reader Breakup: Fall of 1989

Javi G and Reader Meet: Spring of 1990

Javi G and Reader Marry: Spring of 1991

Escobar dies: 1993

Story starts in summer of 1994

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

Main Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

Javi G Masterlist

PART 2 of 3

&lt;<Part 1<<

Late Summer, 1989

Your youngest student, Mateo, lived several bus rides away from your classroom. He had just shown up one day wanting to learn English, but he came from a family with nearly no income. His family wanted the best for him and they thought learning English would put him ahead of others and give him opportunities they were never given. They tried to work out a payment plan with you, offering to bring you food or whatever they could scrounge up. Of course, you’d hear none of it and welcomed Mateo into your classroom, free of charge. The family was welcomed as well but they had to work, but Mateo’s mom would always accompany him on the bus to and from class, since he was only about 6 years old. 

Class let’s out and everyone gathers up their things and heads out. You stay behind a moment, chatting with another student before gathering up your things and heading out. You see Mateo waiting at the bus stop, completely alone. Walking up to him, you ask him where his mom is and he assumes she’s late. You wait with him for the next bus to see if his mom is on that one. She isn’t. It’s pretty unlike her, so Mateo and you head back inside to see if any messages had been left. His mom had managed to call and say she had to work late and that Mateo should take the bus on his own. Visibly nervous, Mateo shifted from foot to foot, holding back tears. 

Using English to practice, you turn to him. “Mateo, would you like me to go with you? To your home?”

Mateo sighs in relief, nodding profusely. “Yes, Miss. If you…” he screws up his brow in concentration. “If you can?”

“Great work! Let’s go. You show me how to get there, ok?”

Mateo is a great kid - very nice, chatty, in Spanish or English. He’s a fantastic student, very aware of his parent’s will for him to learn English, but also his own desire to make things better for himself and his family. You take about 5 bus changes before walking several blocks to his home. The sun is starting to dip behind the makeshift buildings and you hope someone is home for him. This isn’t a neighborhood to be alone in.

Entering his home, Mateo calls out for his family and receives no answer. He looks in the back bedroom, in case someone is there sleeping, but the house is empty. 

“Will you stay with me a bit, Miss?”

“Yes, Mateo. Are you hungry? Do you have something I can cook?”

He nods, walking over to the small kitchen area and grabbing a few snack bars. “My mom brings home food. Sometime she…is….late?”

You nod, and decline his offer, telling him you had a large lunch. There’s no way you were going to take his food.

About 40 minutes later, Mateo finishes and then all but drags you to the back (and only) room to show you a picture his mom let him draw on the wall, the door, on uneven hinges, closing behind you. The picture was a simple field with grass, clouds, a few trees, and some birds. He was particularly proud of the sun with a smiley face on it.

SLAM!

The front door slams open and you both jump. Mateo moves towards the door, but you grab his arm, pulling him back - something about this doesn’t feel right. The hairs on your arms stand straight and you feel a little sick. 

There’s rapid Spanish being flung between 2 men and judging by the look on Mateo’s face, it’s no one he knows. Silently, you point to the open window and then back to Mateo. He swallows hard and then nods, pulling himself through the window as you boost him up. He makes it outside and stands against the house waiting for you. 

Then the gunfire starts. 

Rapid pops fire off in the living room where the men’s voices were, but the shots were coming from outside of the house. Launching yourself through the window, you cut your palms on some jagged stone, choking back a swear as you tumble out onto the ground, gathering up Mateo and holding him to you as you crouch, back against the house, the door to the room you were just in bursting open, the gunfire getting louder. 

Then suddenly, it’s silent. Which is somehow more terrifying. 

After about 10 minutes, you hear some people shuffle out of the front door, get into a jeep, and pull away. Not daring to move, you cling to Mateo as he clings to you, silent tears pouring down his face. 

3 minutes later, more jeeps and trucks pull up, voices firing off commands in rapid Spanish. The door is kicked open and you hear men moving throughout the small home, and calls from the men saying it was clear. And something about “this is fucked up”. One of the men leaves out the front door, calling to someone by the jeeps that he needed to come see. The man responds and your heart leaps from your chest.

Javier.

Whispering to Mateo that it was ok, the good guys were here, you stand up and move around the house, just catching sight of the tight jeans and bright teal shirt that you knew he’d worn to work today. Some men by the truck spot you coming up and they rush you, telling you to put your hands up in Spanish.

“Javier!” You manage to yell as you put your hands up.

A second later, Javier emerges from the home, a mixture of horror and relief on his face at the sight of you. 

“Hermosa?” He waves the men off and you put your arms down, holding Mateo to your side as he had wrapped his little arms around you. Javier walks up to you and cradles your face, looking you all over to see if there were any wounds.

“I’m fine, Javier.” Tears start to stream down your cheeks, but your wipe at them furiously with your free hand. Mateo squeezes you harder and you blink, momentarily forgetting he was glued to your hip.

“This is Mateo. He lives here with his family. They were staying late at work so I made sure he got home ok.”

Javier glances down at Mateo who meets his strong gaze with his own. Before they could say anything, a woman yells Mateo’s name. His mother had come up and, seeing the scene, started screaming his name. Mateo bolted to his mom, hugging her and telling her what happened. She thanked you for everything, not sure how to repay you, which you waved off, just happy they were ok. 

But when you looked back at Javier, you were met with fiery anger in his eyes. He grabs your arm and steers you towards the back of Mateo’s house, anger and frustration in each step.

“Javier?” You question, but are met with silence as he continues to push and pull you around the small house, his chest heaving behind his tact vest.

“What the fuck were you thinking, hermosa?” He’s not yelling, trying to keep his voice quiet, between the both of you. But there’s no mistaking his tone.

“What?”

“What..the fuck…were you thinking? Or were you not thinking? Is that it?”

“I-”

“Do you even know where you are? What kind of a neighborhood this is?”

“Well, my stude-”

“This is where all the shit happens, hermosa. Shootouts, thefts, my work brings me to these areas all the time. And women…..well women get it worse sometimes.”

“Javier, my 6 year old student was going to have to ride home, across several bus changes to an empty home in this neighborhood. I couldn’t just let him go alone.”

Javier scoffs. “So you put yourself in danger? For someone else’s kid?”

“For a kid Javier. And if I wasn’t there, he’d have most likely died in whatever the fuck happened back there.”

He stands in front of you, one hand still wrapped around your arm while his other finds his hip, his jaw clenching together.

“That’s just it, hermosa. You don’t think! You don’t take the time to think about all the fucked up shit that’s going on here. What can happen-”

“I always think about it, Javier. I have to think about it everywhere I go, no matter if it’s here or the States. I’m a woman. I have to look out for myself.”

“Then what the fuck, hermosa?”

“Because Mateo doesn’t deserve to die because he lives in poverty and was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“The kid would’ve been fine on his own.”

“You just spent the last few minutes yelling at me about how bad this area is but he would’ve been fine? Do you even hear yourself?”

“You don’t see what I see every day, hermosa! Do the things I do, none of it.”

Sweat is beading slightly at his hairline, causing curls to start to form. The tach vest he still wears is heaving, and yet his anger doesn’t seem entirely towards you. But when he speaks, he’s no longer yelling. It’s quiet, almost as if he were afraid to say it.

“You….you could’ve been killed. And it would’ve been my….I wouldn’t be able to deal with you not being in this world.”

Reaching out, you grip the top of his vest and pull him towards you, Javier pushing your back against the stone wall of Mateo’s home as his initial surprise is quickly replaced by desire. He taps your thigh and helps you lift it over his waist, cradling your face as his tongue explores your mouth, feeling your hands fumble with the button on his impossibly tight jeans. Finally, it pops open and you slide the zipper down, pulling him out as he breaks the kiss to inhale sharply. 

You hold his hardened dick, pushing aside your underwear (and thankful you’d worn a dress) as he slides through your wet folds a few times before pushing in roughly. You cry out at the rough stretch and his hand claps down over your mouth as he thrusts into you at a hard pace.

“Ssshhh,” he rasps in your ear, his own soft grunts and pants fanning out across your neck. 

Your handles scramble across him, trying to find something to hold onto. Fingers land on the edge of his tach vest and your grip it tight, pulling him a little closer to you. This changes his angle and the bottom of the vest starts to hit your clit directly with every thrust. Moaning under his hand, your fingers grip the vest tighter as Javier continues to fuck you, his anger dissapating with every thrust. 

“So..fucking…stubborn…shit!” The last word is rasped out as you come around him, the walls of your pussy squeezing around him. He manages a few more thrusts before he comes, biting your shoulder to stop himself from moaning your name. 

A few moments go by before you both remember where you were. Javier pulls out, sucking in some air as your foot hits the ground. It’s now that you feel how sore you are, a pang in your hip from the odd angle, your back a little scraped up from the wall despite being covered, and you feel slightly bruised from the tach vest, but it’s not something you’re mad at by any means. Javier shifts as he tucks himself back into his pants and zips them up. 

“I’ll, uh…see you later.” He says awkwardly, his hands on his hips as he turns to walk around the house. 

—----

Present, Summer 1994

There’s no way you can call Javier, as you’re fairly positive the phones are tapped. Trusting anyone outside of Javi is impossible - Cali’s reach goes beyond even that of Escobar’s. Digging through your clothes, you manage to find an outfit that doesn’t match the style of clothes you’ve brought (loyal drug lord housewife glam). It’s simple jeans, flats, and a frumpier shirt that doesn’t conform to your figure. You’d also brought a wig, which you’d love to say is for roleplay but honestly, it was for this exact reason - disguise. Folding these up as small as you can, you find a larger purse and shove them towards the bottom, dumping the normal contents of your purse on top. 

Javi is out, at another meeting and so you head out, waving off the driver to drive yourself. This isn’t uncommon for you and they all know you’d lived in Colombia before, so no one finds this suspicious. You park about 20 blocks from the DEA building near a large shopping plaza, making a mental note to buy some things before you head back. You dress in your new clothes, tossing the one’s you’d been wearing in the bottom of your bag before checking your reflection to make sure the wig was in place. Heading out, you head straight for the DEA, not sure if they’ll even help you locate him or even have the information since he’s not in Colombia.

Taking a deep breath before you enter, you push the doors open and head straight for the receptionist. 

“Hello. I’m looking for someone. Maybe you can help me?”

The receptionist, an older lady, smiles. “I will certainly try, but this isn’t the embassy-”

You shake your head. “No, I know that. But this person is or was a DEA agent.”

She looks you up and down for a quick moment before speaking. “I cannot give out information on agents.”

“I realize that, but maybe you can tell me if he’s even here? It’s…really important.” Your hand comes to cover your stomach to help the nerves die down, but the receptionist appears to take this action in a very different way.

“Oh. I see. Who are you looking for?”

“Agent Peña.”

The receptionist scoffs, mumbles something like “That figures”, before shaking her head. “Would you like to make an appointment to meet with him?”

“I don’t understand. Is…wait is he here? In Colombia?”

“Yes. He’s the head of the DEA here.”

Your vision starts to darken around the edges as you sway slightly. You’d thought he’d be in the States, that you’d get some sort of non bugged phone to speak with him. But he’s here? In Colombia? And now you’ll get to speak with him face to face…are you even ready for that?

“I-I-”

Just then, a man walks around the corner and over to the desk, paying you no mind. There’s no need to look at this man - you’d know him anywhere. 

“Rachel, I’m heading out to lunch. If anyone needs me-”

“Actually, Agent Peña, this woman here needs to speak with you.” She gestures towards you and Javier turns, his dark eyes finding yours. 

Silence passes between you both as recognition washes over Javier. Rachel breaks the silence. 

“Agent Peña, I believe you were heading out for lunch? Maybe you could spare a few minutes for your-I mean this woman?”

“I-” he clears his throat, clearly caught. “I don’t have the time-”

Rachel fixes him a look. “Agent Peña. As a woman, I must insist.”

He glances at her and her stern look shakes him into action.

“Fine. Walk with me.” Javier takes off out the front doors and you try to keep up with him. 

He says nothing, making a beeline for the parking garage, walking up 3 flights of stairs instead of taking the elevator, and walking to his jeep. A similar jeep to the one he’d had before you realize. He doesn’t open the door for you, obviously hoping you’d have given up by now. He gets in and slams his door and you do the same, closing your door much quieter. He turns on the jeep and starts the ac, still saying nothing. A couple minutes pass, the ac getting cooler before you finally muster up the courage to speak.

“I’m in trouble.”

Javier doesn’t look at you directly. Instead, he pops a piece of nicotine gum into his mouth and starts chewing, his jaw clenching a little harder than it normally should. 

“It’s the cartel-”

“Everyone is in danger from the cartels.”

“Yes, but this is different.”

He continues to chew. “I’ve heard that before from many people.”

Now he’s pissing you off, acting like he wasn’t the one to walk out on the both of you. “Could you at least do me the fucking courtesy of looking at me?”

“Just say what you came here to say.”

It’s then you realize he thinks this is about closure, about what had happened between you. 

“I’m married to Javi Gutiérrez.”

That got his attention.

Javier’s eyes snapped to yours, an odd expression in them. “You’re what?”

“I’m married to Javi Gutiérrez.”

“Javi Gutiérrez, as in the head of the Mallorca Cartel, Javi Gutiérrez?”

You sigh. “That’s the one.”

“Why the fuck would you marry him?”

“That’s just it - he’s not what you think.”

Javier scoffs. “Yeah I’m sure he’s a great guy, behind all the drugs and murder.”

“He’s not the true head of the cartel.”

You've surprised him again. “What do you mean?”

You launch into your story, explaining how Javi is not the head of the Mallorca Cartel, how it was passed down from his father to his cousin, Lucas, but that he threatened Javi if he did not pretend to be the head so Lucas could run things behind the scenes and move more freely. Plus if anyone tried to take him out, they’d think it was Javi. It was impossible to say no and Javi told himself he could never get married or have a family. Until he’d met you. 

“And he just pulled you into all this shit?” Javier asks, his anger apparent on his face.

“No. He told me when he proposed.”

Javier’s eyes grew wide. “You mean you chose to stay with him?”

“Yeah. Because that’s what you do when you love someone, Javier.”

A heavy silence falls between you as it’s obvious he’s remembering the night he simply left without a word and proceeded to ignore you until you’d just given up. When he speaks, it’s calmer, trying to keep his frustration at bay.

“I want to help, but I…don’t want you to get hurt.”

Giving him a small smile, you hesitantly reach out and place your hand on his arm. “You’re the only person we can trust. Without your help, I’ll definitely be hurt.”

His muscles tense under your touch, and he glances down at your hand as his jaw clenches a few times. 

“I’ll need as much information as you can get me.”

Tears of relief fall from your eyes. “Thank you, Javier.”

You tell him about some big party that’s happening this weekend that you’ll be attending. He asks if you’d be willing to wear a wire and a camera, adding that if you’re caught, it would not end well. You agreed, saying that people rarely gave you a second glance, unless they were staring at your tits or ass. It was like you were a piece of meat, just arm candy. Javier disappeared for a short bit and returned with the gear, explaining how to use them. He places them in your hands and for the briefest moment, your skin touches, and butterflies immediately flood your stomach, which sickens you. Javi is a good man, always has treated you well and would never just leave you in the middle of the night. But Javier and you had history, and honestly, no closure. 

Suddenly, Javier closes his hands over yours and looks into your eyes. “Please be careful, hermo…just please be careful.”

—----

Making it back to the suite without any issues, you carefully store the spy gear in a back corner of a drawer, hoping no one goes through it. Javi enters the bedroom and you exit the closet, walking up to him to give him a kiss. 

“Hola, amor. I have missed you today.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

His eyes are wide and round as he looks at you, his voice dropping nearly to a whisper. “Did you talk to your friend?”

“I..did. Turns out, he’s still in Colombia. Here, actually.”

“This is great news! Unless…is he going to help us?”

“Yes but Javi, I have to tell you-”

“No, no amor. Keep details to-”

“It’s Javier.”

Javi’s voice trails off as he stares at you, his smile dropping from his face, replaced by a thin line, his jaw clenching. Javi knew about Javier and wasn’t a fan of the way he treated you in the end. He knew how much he’d hurt you.

“Do you think he can do it?” He asks through gritted teeth.

You nod. “If anyone can, it’s him. And he may be able to bring down Cali as well as Mallorca.”

Javi nods before studying your face. “And you, amor? Are you ok to do this? To work with him?”

Hesitating, you take a deep breath. “Honestly? I don’t know. But what I do know is I love you and will do anything to get us free from this nightmare and start a family with you.”

He looks at you a few moments more before pulling you to him in a warm hug. “As long as you’re ok. Just tell me if you are not, ok? It is not worth your suffering.”

“We’re already suffering, Javi. The least I can do is deal with my ex.”

He kisses the top of your head. “Still. Keep details to yourself but if you cannot continue, it is ok.”

—---- 

After fixing the mic and camera to your body, you smooth your tight, spaghetti strap, sparkling dress over your body. Somehow, you’ve managed to hide everything without it being obvious, even if people checked you out. You didn’t tell Javi about it, honoring his request to be kept out of the loop.

The party is lavish and expensive looking, which is normal for these things. Javi pulls up to the valet, walking around his car to offer you his arm. Looping yours through his, you pull yourself out of the car, smiling wide at him as he escorts you inside. You’ve been to many of these functions, but neither of you are thrilled by them, surrounded by people who would kill you for nothing. 

It’s the same routine - Javi and you make the rounds, saying hi to various people, eventually moving up the command chain. All the men gawk at you, saying filthy things about you when your back is turned. They’d never dare to say it to your face, especially not with Javi there. Respect is actually a huge thing with these cartels. 

After shaking everyone’s hand, you turn to Javi and lean in to his ear. “I’m going to go find the women. Come dance with me later?”

He nods and gives you a kiss, the Cali Cartel smiling behind him. “I’ll see you soon, amor.”

Taking your time, you sway your hips as you walk away, glancing over your shoulder to wink at Javi, who had been checking you out. He blushes and smiles, giving you a quick wink before returning to the conversation. You make the rounds, taking your time finding the bar. When you’re waiting for your drink, you find the women, the wives, girlfriends, and mistresses of the heads of the Cali Cartel, all huddled in a corner, stretched out on plush chairs, obviously drunk already. Jackpot.

Walking over, you pretend to sway a bit, giving the illusion that you’d been drinking. The women spot you and one of them waves, recognizing you from a previous party. They each acknowledge you and return to their conversations, never usually paying you much attention outside of what was required. You couldn’t blame them - you’re not from here nor from their click. They don’t really know you, nor you them. But you do know that the second they get drunk, they start talking.

One of them starts talking about a vacation they’re going to take to Curaçao. And that her boyfriend has a very important job to take money to a bank there. With a little friendly prodding, she gives you the name of the person her boyfriend will meet up with to transfer money - Franklin Jurado. A little bit goes by and Javi approaches the group of women, smiling at them all as they fawn over him, complaining when he walks away with you. 

“You know they’re all obsessed with you, right?” You chuckle at Javi.

“Me? No way.”

“Yes way. They’re all insanely jealous of me because I get to go home with you.”

He twirls you on the dance floor and pulls you close, speaking low in your ear. “Or maybe they are jealous of me for getting to go home with you.”

Javi dances with you for a few songs, and you stay for a few more hours before calling it a night, Javi having spoken to the people he needed to. You’d gotten enough intel for Javier. As you leave however, you swear you see Jorge, Cali’s head of security, eyeing you a little closer than normal - and not in the way that men normally do. 

—----

“I have to take some things to our…friend.” You answer in response to Javi’s question of why you were leaving the bed so soon - he’d only been able to give you 4 orgasms this morning. 

“Do you have to so soon? Come back to bed, amor.”

“I’d love to, Javi, but this is important. Plus I have to get rid of it quick.”

He sits up, walking naked over to you at the vanity. “What do you mean?”

You’re quiet for a moment. “Do you want me to tell you?”

“...if you think you’re in danger, then yes.”

You tell him about the party and the wires, and how Jorge was watching you specifically as you’d left.

“Shit. Do you think he knew?”

“I don’t know, Javi. I just know I have to get this shit out of here in case he comes looking.”

He nods. “What time do you have to meet him?”

You glance quickly at the clock. “In about an hour and a half. But I have to make extra steps to make it secure.”

He leans down, one hand on the vanity in front of you and one on the back of your chair, speaking low in your ear. “Can you spare me a few minutes?”

Your body shivers as it heats up, locking eyes with him in the mirror in front of you. Nodding ever so slightly, Javi smiles at your response.

“Stand up.”

You do as he asks, but before you can turn around, Javi stops you. “Hands on the vanity.”

Leaning over, you place your hands on the vanity and watch him in the mirror. Javi moves behind you, shifting your silky robe up your back and placing a few kisses there as he slides your panties over, running his thick fingers through your wet pussy.

“Oh amor. So wet already?”

“Yes. For you, Javi.”

He stands closer behind you, pushing your panties further to the side as he lines up with you. He pauses, locking eyes with you in the mirror as he pushes into you, chuckling darkly as you gasp, mouth opening like an O.

He sets a rough pace, his hands on your hips and your knuckles straining with the pressure of holding your body upright while he rails into you. Heavy breaths, broken up with each thrust, accompanied by moans and little “yes…yes…yes…” breaks the silence of the room, the vanity threatening to break. He reaches around you and barely touches you before you’re crying out, still sensitive from your activities this morning. He groans and sputters, spilling himself inside of you a few more erratic thrusts. Pulling out, he turns you around and smiles at your fucked out look. 

“I love you, amor.”

“I love..you too…fuck.”

He chuckles, leaning in to kiss you before you finish getting ready.

—---- 

An hour and a half later, you’re sliding into Javier’s jeep, staying on your side of the bench. You hand him the gear and he takes it, trying hard not to touch your skin. 

“Did anyone make you?” He asks, concerned.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think so, but as we were leaving, Jorge, who’s the head of the Cali security, was watching me closer than the men typically do.”

Javier watches you, concern creeping in his expression. “Shit.”

You wave him off. “I’m sure it’s ok-”

Just then, a loud knock on your side of the window cracks through the jeep. You jump, turning to look as Javier grabs your arm, pulling you across the bench seat towards him, wrapping his arm around you as he pulls a gun from nowhere, pointing it at the oddly bearded man outside your window. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Javier yells. 

The man puts his hands up and you spot the pinky ring. He didn’t think to take off all identifying jewelry.

Sighing, you tap Javier’s arm. “Ease up. That’s Javi.”

“What?”

“It’s Javi. I can tell. Open the door before someone sees.”

Javier hesitates, but trusts you in the end, unlocking the doors and watching the man get in, closing the door behind him. The beard on his face is a little lopsided, but it’s hidden by the baseball cap on his head.

“Javi, what are you doing here?” You ask.

The man takes off his sunglasses. “How did you know it was me?”

“You forgot to take off your ring.”

Javi looks down at his hands, spotting the pinky ring. “Oh, shit. I forgot.” He takes it off now, stowing it in a pocket where you hear it clank against what you’re assuming is his wedding band. He straightens up and stares at the man behind you.

“Javier Peña.” Javier sticks his hand out after putting his gun away. 

“Javi Gutiérrez.”

The handshake was forced, full of tension on both sides. 

“Why are you here, Javi?” Javier asks. 

“I am here because I am concerned. Did she tell you about Jorge?”

Javier glances down at you. “She has. You think this is concerning?”

Javi nods. “I do not like it.”

“I agree. Maybe we should relocate her for a few days, say she is what…on a weekend trip with some old friends?”

“I can take care of my wife.”

“Yeah, because you’re doing such a fantastic job of it so far.”

“What the fuck would you know about it? You left!”

“And here you both are now, asking me for help. So let me protect her, since you obviously can’t.”

Javi bristles beside you. “I have always protected her, always placed her ahead of me!”

“If you wanted to protect her, you wouldn’t have married her!”

The men are leaning in towards each other and you start to feel smushed. Normally, being crammed between these two men would give you very different feelings, but considering they both look like they’re about to kill the other, you speak up. 

“OK THAT’S ENOUGH! Javi, I love you but Javier is right. If we even think for a second that Jorge suspects something, I should plan a trip. Unless that makes me look more guilty?” You turn to look at Javier, who’s anger is still very much on his face. 

“I think you’ll be ok. Assuming they all know how…in love you both are, they will not look twice at you leaving without him.”

Javi scoffs. “And you think I’m letting you take my wife to a safehouse without me?”

“You really have no choice.”

Javi stops, mouth open to retort but none comes. He realizes Javier is right, and he hates it, but he also wants to keep you safe. And judging by Javier’s reaction when he first approached the window, he is still trying to protect you.

“You are right.”

The 3 of you hash out the details and Javi leaves, kissing you longer than normal before saying he’ll see you later. Shortly after, you leave, heading back to the room to pack, after making a few quick stops at stores to show you’d been out shopping last minute for the trip. 

You drive to a location Javier gave you, a random parking lot in the city that is used but not busy, parking your car and getting into his, tossing your bag in the backseat, next to the duffle and coolers that Javier had placed there. You drive for a couple hours, out of the city and into the farmlands, eventually turning down a well concealed drive that leads up to a hidden finca (farm). No one comes out to greet you and Javier explains that this was one of Escobars - that he’d never actually stayed here but was seized after he was killed. He’d apparently had hundreds of them. 

After unpacking, Javier tosses together some sandwiches for the both of you for dinner, turning on a small radio that he had packed to whatever music he could pick up. The conversation starts out light, trying not to talk about the current situation, until Javier makes one too many covert jabs at Javi and how he’s brought you into this mess.

“Javi told me who he was before we got married. I chose to stay with him.”

Javier scoffs. “You always did like difficult men.”

“Javi isn’t difficult. He’s a great man, kind, takes care of me, treats me well-”

“So well that he drags you to cartel parties and a life where you’re always scared someone will take you out?”

Anger rises in you and your voice raises. “At least he didn’t leave me in the middle of the night and completely ignore me for whatever fucked up reason!”

Javier’s face echoes your anger. “I was protecting you!”

Scoffing, you roll your eyes. “From who? Escobar?”

“From me!” 

Javier’s expression changes, looking sad and guilty as he rubs his hand across his face. He sighs, lighting a cigarette and letting out a few puffs before continuing. He confesses to you his involvement with Los Pepes and how deep he was getting in with the bad guys. It’s justified, of course, but he still feels guilty about the innocent people that were killed because of intel he fed them - including that day at Mateo’s home. That was the event that made him realize how much he was putting you in harm’s way. He knew Los Pepes had seen you and him talking and would figure out you were together, so he broke it off, making it look like a bad breakup so they wouldn’t come after you for collateral over him. When he finishes, he’s not looking at you, but staring ahead at the wall. 

“I’ve missed you ever day since then. It’s the thing I regret most in life, leaving you the way I did. And then…you walked back into my life and for a moment I thought we could…” He takes another drag from his cigarette before leaning forward to put it out on the ashtray on the table. “This is the world making me pay for what I’ve done, had to do, in this life.” He leans against the back of the couch and looks so sad and defeated. 

You’re speechless for several moments, trying to process everything he just told you, including the part where he thought you’d come back to get back with him. Eventually, you find your voice.

“Javier…you didn’t need to protect me. I know why you did it and..thank you.”

He nods, still not looking at you. “I couldn’t give you everything you deserve anyway, hermosa.”

Hesitating, you stretch your hand out to cover his for a moment. “I’d have stayed with you forever, even if that meant we never officially married.”

Javier turns to look at you, tears building in his eyes. Something passes between you both then. Some sort of closure? It doesn’t feel entirely that way. But at least now you know why he left. 

Shaking your head, you pull your hand back. “I’m exhausted. See you in the morning.”

Back in your room, you dress for bed, tears quietly falling down your face for the first man that ever held your heart. Flashes of a life with him, where he never left you, flooding your mind - celebrating the end of Escobar’s reign of terror, going back to the States to meet his family, taking him to meet yours, maybe not getting married (or maybe so), buying a house, and even starting a family, sitting on the front porch as you watch Javier chasing around your kids, rubbing your round belly that’s making your fourth. Happy and content, living a quiet life. 

Fuck.

—----

It’s hours later, and your eyes open a crack, hearing voices from the living room. At first, you assume Javier is on the satellite phone, but then you hear another voice. A familiar voice. 

“...doesn’t matter. She’s in it now. We’ve got to keep her safe,” Javier says.

“I agree. Every day I live with regret of bringing her into this life, even though she made the choice. I’ll do anything for mi amor. She is my life.”

Javi?

The men talk some more about your safety as you blink your eyes awake, listening to them talk without yelling at each other for a change. 

“I was thinking…” Javi says.

“Let’s hear it.”

“No. No it’s… It is not a good idea.”

“Javi, anything we can do to protect her-” 

“You’re right. You’re right. I just…it’s difficult to admit.”

A few moment’s silence passes before Javi speaks again. “It is obvious to me that you still care for her-”

“I would never-”

“Just let me finish. It is obvious to me that you still care for her and I cannot blame you. I would never forget her if she were to leave me. But…maybe because of this, maybe the only way she can be truly safe is if we’re both…with her?”

Silence for another few moments.

“What does that mean?” Javier asks.

“I mean that if we are both around her, no one would dare take her from me-us.”

“But..how would this…work?”

Javi takes a deep breath. “However she would want it. If she would want it.”

“And you’d be ok with..whatever she wants?”

“Yes. I will respect her wishes.”

Silence again for several moments.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

Footsteps sound down the hall, coming closer and closer to your room. Slamming your eyes shut, you feign sleep, your brain working overtime to process what you’d just overheard. A quiet knock sounds at the door, but when you don’t answer, you hear it being pushed open gently. 

“Amor?” Javi speaks quietly into the dark room, sitting on the edge of your bed. He places a large, warm hand on your shoulder and leans forward, a gentle kiss dusted across your lips. Unable to stop the smile that spreads across your face, you open your eyes and find Javi staring down at you. 

“Javi? What are you doing here? How?”

“Javier called me and told me the location. We needed to talk about your safety and it was too difficult to do so in the city.”

“But won’t someone be looking for you?”

“No. I told them I was leaving to take care of some things and they winked, telling me to say hi to you.”

“Guess there’s no hiding our love, huh?”

Javi chuckles. “Guess not.”

He leans forward and kisses you again, sliding his tongue in your mouth to deepen the kiss. After a few moments, he pulls back, his eyes scanning your face. 

“What is it, Javi?”

“I…well more we have something to propose to you.”

“We?”

Javier walks in then, leaning against the door frame until Javi beckons him over to sit next to him. You sit up, looking between each of their faces.

“What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“No, no, hermosa. Everything is fine.”

“But- we figured out the best way to keep you safe.”

“Y-you did?” 

Javi takes a deep breath. “Amor, I- or we, rather, care for you very much. You know how much I love you and I think you know how much Javier still loves you.”

“O..k…”

Javi continues. “We think, that is, Javier and I agree that the best way for you to stay safe is to be with us. Both of us.”

“Oh. Like a bodyguard or something?” You needed to know you weren’t making up what you’d overheard.

“If you’d like. Or…if you want more…then…I would…be ok with…that.”

Your eyes haven’t left Javi’s since he started talking. “More?”

“Amor, there is no need to play coy. We are all adults.”

“Oh.”

Javier places his hand on your knee, over your blanket. “There is no pressure, hermosa. I would guard you with my life no matter what.”

Your eyes find Javi’s again. “And you’re ok with this?”

“It was my idea.”

“Really?”

He nods. “I just want you safe and happy, amor.”

“But-”

“Yes?” Javi asks, his eyes wide like a puppy.

“But what if I don’t choose? Can’t choose?”

“I-”

“What if I want..you…both…”

Javi glances back at Javier and a look passes between them before they look back at you. “Then you would have us both.”

Heat floods your body and you’re thankful for the darkness of the room or you’re sure they’d be able to see the sweat that just appeared on your face. 

Leaning forward, your lips find Javi’s in the darkness, immediately deepening the kiss, moaning into his mouth. You feel the bed start to shift, Javier trying to leave, but your arm shoots out and you grip his shirt, holding him in place. Kissing your husband for another minute, you pull back, able to see the lust in his eyes before he nods at you ever so slightly, confirming his consent. 

Your eyes shift to Javier, just able to make him out in the darkness. Sitting up on your knees, you scoot closer to him, your face hovering in front of his, as you both sit on the precipice of your desires, years of longing, of lost potential bubbling to the surface before something snaps. Making the first move, your lips brush Javier’s and that’s all it takes. His hand comes to the back of your head, pulling you closer to him as his other hand cups your face. He pours all of his emotions into this kiss, his apology, his regret, his lust, all of it.

It’s then you feel Javi’s hands sneaking under your shirt as he sits behind you, finding your bare chest and carressing your boobs. He pinches your nipples and you break the kiss to whine, Javier chuckling into your open mouth. 

“Fuck I’ve missed that sound, hermosa.”

Javi’s hands leave you momentarily, finding the hem of your shirt and lifting it above your head, tossing it somewhere in the room. Javier’s eyes dart down, licking his lips as he stares at your hardened nipples. Javi grips the back of your neck, pulling your head back as he kisses you, pushing your chest out and towards Javier. He wastes no time at the invite, diving down to take a boob in his mouth, licking figure 8’s across your nipple. Breaking this kiss, you let out a small whine, Javi’s turn to chuckle at your response as Javier moves to the other boob.  

Javi breaks the kiss, tapping Javier on the shoulder. Javier sits up, helping Javi to move you to lay on your back across the bed, your head in Javi’s lap. Looking up at him, he smiles down at you, love in his eyes as he caresses your face, his hands drifting down to find your boobs, pinching and rubbing your nipples. Your moan becomes louder when you feel a familiar mustache dust the skin on your inner thighs, Javier wasting no time in planting himself between your legs, ripping your underwear from you. He licks at you as if he was trying to make up for lost time. He sucks at your clit and you whimper his name, feeling him push in 2 fingers, curling them and finding that spot he knows you love. It’s no time before you’re crying out, waves of bliss washing over you as they continue to work your body. 

Once you come down, you sit up, Javi’s hands falling from you and you pull Javier to you, kissing him and tasting yourself on his lips. Your hand moves between his legs and you’re surprised he’s still got his jeans on, his hard cock begging to be let free. Pulling back you meet his gaze and a moment of understanding passes between you. 

Turning back to Javi, you notice he’s still clothed, never once assuming anything about this situation. Kissing him, your fingers undo the buttons on his shirt, pushing it down and off his shoulders, tossing it somewhere in the room. His pants come off next and you push him on his back, tossing a leg over his hips to straddle him. Javi helps guide you down onto him and your head tosses back, moaning out his name as he pushes inside. On instinct, you start to roll your hips, pulling little grunts and whimpers from Javi as his hands grip your hips tighter, pulling you deeper. 

A few minutes pass before you feel lips on the back of your neck, kissing your skin as Javier’s hand pushes your upper back down, your boobs coming to rest on Javi’s chest. Javi grips the back of your head and kisses you, his tongue finding yours as you feel a wet finger circle your other hole. Always gentle, Javier works at you, taking his time pushing in a finger, then 2, getting you ready, all while listening to the way you cry and whimper into Javi’s mouth. Javier removes his fingers and you feel him shift his weight, the tip of him already on you as he gets ready. He squeezes your ass cheeks, pulling them apart to watch you slolwy riding Javi. 

“Are you ready for me, hermosa?” He asks in a low voice.

Breaking the kiss, you breathe out “Yes,” Javi pulling you back in to kiss you more.

Javier slowly pushes inside of you and Javi breaks the kiss to let you moan and cry out, you body stretching to accommodate both men, your body burning with pleasure. 

“Oh shit,” Javi pants. “I can…I can feel you coming in.”

Javier grunts. “I feel you too.”

Javier bottoms out and the three of you stay still for a moment, the men giving you time to adjust to them both. Stretched nearly beyond capacity, you already feel your orgasm building. 

“I’m good. Fuck, you guys are…fuck…make me feel so…full…” You pant out. “Move. Please.” You’re begging and you really don’t give a shit.

They seem to communicate something over your shoulder and start to move, one of them pulling out while the other pushes in. The stimulation is constant, someone always brushing against a spot inside of you, lighting you up. The sounds they make, little grunts, whimpers, and whispers of your name and dirty things fill your head and you come quickly, screaming out incoherently as you tighten and pulse around them both. Several thrusts later, and you feel Javi start to tense, his breathing coming out higher pitched as he comes, mumbling your name. Javier grunts out something and pulls out, coming on your lower back as he whispers your name. 

No one moves for several moments, heavy breathing filling the air. Finally, Javier moves, coming back with a washcloth to wipe your back down. Once clean, you push yourself up, sliding off of Javi with a grunt. Javier pulls you towards him, laying you down on your back on the middle of the bed. He gently cleans you as Javi gets up to clean himself, coming back to lay beside you as Javier tosses the rag and lays on your opposite side, both of them shifting to hold you. Wrapping an arm around each of them, you manage to twist your arms so you can run your fingers through their hair at the same time as you all drift off to sleep, any conversations can wait until-

Your eyes fly open and you sit up fast, drenched in sweat as you look around the dark room. Patting the bed, you realize you’re alone, no signs of either man having ever been in your bed.

“Fucking hell,” You mutter, laying back down to try and go back to sleep.

You end up thinking about that dream for a long time.

-------

It ends up that Jorge had simply been eyeing your dress as his wife was a similar size and he was wondering where you’d gotten it. Javi had insisted the man take your dress, knowing you’d be perfectly fine with the idea. Eventually, Jorge caved and thanked Javi profusely, taking the dress to bring home to his wife.

After that night, Javier makes sure you get back to the hotel alright, giving you some things that you could’ve gotten on your night away trip to make it seem plausible. He takes the information about the bank you gave him back to the DEA, along with some other information Javi had given you to pass along about the Mallorca Cartel. Javier reached out to their connection in Spain, making sure they had a secure line to transfer the information over. The bank info you’d supplied pans out, Javier literally chasing down Franklin Jurado before catching him. 

When Javier returns from Curaçao, he received a message from his contacts in the DEA in Spain. The information Javi provided pans out and they try to coordinate efforts to close both the Mallorca Cartel alongside the Cali Cartel. This is difficult because of the impending deal between Cali and the Colombian government, but they both remain optimistic that they can catch both. Javier never tells you, but he feels relived, because Javi had obviously told you the truth about not being the true head of the Mallorca Cartel, but also sad because this means that Javi is probably a great guy, not deserving of the treatment he was no doubt forced into, probably under threat of death, or worse.

—----

Javi heads over to a small gathering with the heads of the Cali Cartel, sitting poolside with a drink in his hand, chatting idly with Pacho. You had promised to meet up with him later, an already established lunch date with a friend from your teaching days taking place that afternoon. No one seemed to mind - the other women of the cartel men were deeply engrossed in whatever it was they talk about when tanning. The door to the balcony open as Javi laughs at a joke Pacho told him, Javi’s eyes turning to look at the man strolling over to the them.

All color drains from Javi’s as he sees the face of his cousin, Lucas, eyes locked on his, an evil smirk tugging up the corners of his lips.

“Hola, mi primo,” [Hello, my cousin] Lucas says cooly, flanked by 4 cartel guards.

Pacho glances at the other Cali men before standing up, a hard look on his face. 

“Y quien mierda eres tú?” [And who the fuck are you?] Pacho asks, appraising Lucas. 

“Javi aquí es mi primo. Él es mi tapadera. Soy el verdadero jefe del Cartel de Mallorca.” [Javi here is my cousin. He is my cover. I am the true head of the Mallorca Cartel].

Javi knows this is not good. This will not end well for him and he swears to everything he believes in that they save you from whatever is about to go down. Pacho looks between Javi and Lucas as the other Cali men approach. 

“¿Por qué estás aquí Lucas? Te dije que te quedaras en Mallorca.” [Why are you here, Lucas? I told you to stay in Mallorca.] Javi decides this may be the best chance of him getting out of this, but his hope is quickly evaporating.

“Javi, Javi. Muy divertido. Actuando como usted toma las decisiones.” [Javi, Javi. So funny. Acting like you call the shots.] Lucas’s smirk widens and it’s all Javi can do to not throw up. But before he can reply, Lucas speaks again, this time addressing Pacho and the other men.

“Mi nombre es Lucas Gutiérrez. Soy el verdadero jefe del cartel de Mallorca. Y yo vengo aquí porque aquí mi Javi nos ha traicionado.” [My name is Lucas Gutiérrez. I am the true head of the Mallorca cartel. And I came here myself because my Javi here has betrayed us.]

Silence as the Cali men process this information.

“¡Cómo te atreves!” [How dare you!] Javi speaks louder and firmer towards his cousin, who just waves him off.

“Puedo probarlo si ustedes, caballeros, me permiten unos momentos de su tiempo.” [I can prove it if you gentlemen will allow me a few moments of your time.]

They look at each other, silently debating before Miguel nods to some guards who immediately walk up to Javi and secure his arms in firm grips, steering him inside behind the group of men. 

This is not good.

—----

>>Part 3>>

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[yeoldontknow]

Back To The Stars: Primis

Author: @yeoldontknow​ as part of The Fault of Light collaboration with @j-pping​ Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female) Genre: astronaut!au; space travel!au; mars mission!au; soulmate themes; romance; smut; heavy angst; themes of abandonment Summary (this installment): Chanyeol is 11 years old the first time someone walks on the Moon. He is 11, and already he feels his life is changing. Rating (this installment): G Warnings: none; chanyeol is just a cute beybey with his big ears and big eyes and big heart and big excitement and i made myself terribly soft for someone who doesnt really like writing children :( Word Count: 4.2K

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JULY 20, 1969

It’s the biggest televised event since the coronation of Queen Elizabeth.

At least, that’s what his teachers tell him. 

He struggles to understand the magnitude of their words, finding it terribly difficult to wrap his mind around the concept that Kings and Queens could still exist. It seems very fanciful, this idea, but he likes that some kind of magic still seemingly exists within the world. Having spent so long ensuring his best grades are on mathematics and science, keeping his father placated, he feels reassured that there is some truth to fairy tales - a new Queen stepped into power; the books on his shelves are true even if he does not understand why, even if he was not alive to witness it.

Even if his family was still in Korea, so far removed from the pomp and circumstance of this celebration he doubts his parents even remember the significance of such an occasion.

Cuddling into his mother’s side, Chanyeol presses himself deeply into the couch, and listens intently to the anxious chattering of his father as he turns the dial of the TV. It is one hour past his bedtime, and already his eyelids feel heavy with sleep, but he and his sister have finally been allowed to witness the secret activities of adults after they have been tucked into their sheets, and so he listens, not wanting to miss any details. Lips set in a small pout, he nods in time with his father’s pauses, hoping this makes him look mature and astute, wanting, more than anything, to be encouraging.

This is the single most important moment of his career, he says, and Chanyeol hums, aware that his father has been a mathematician his whole life, presumably always, the concept of a career so far reaching and permanent he knits his brow together as he tries to fathom it.

This is precisely why he brought the family to America, and therefore this evening is momentous and personal. Chanyeol was very small when they immigrated to the country, but he distinctly remembers the terribly long boat journey and the way his mother always looked pale and slim under the dim lighting, lips pressed into a tightly shaped grimace that never managed to smear her lipstick. He enjoyed the spray of the ocean as he hung over the railings, and even now he can recall the faint droplets of mist on his fingers; the sort of refreshing happiness that still makes him release a giggle, recalling the faint bubbles on his skin, and his mother hugs him to her side tightly, pleased by the sound as she presses a kiss to the crown of his head. 

He remembers the journey, and while he still does not yet fully appreciate why they are here, he knows his mother likes this house more than the other, and that it made his parents happy enough to provide him a sibling. This kind of enthusiasm is something he understands quite well. At eleven years old, he thinks everything should carry this kind of excitement, and so it is nice to see his father finally allowing the tone of it to saturate his words, not just his actions.

And tonight, this is the most excited his father has ever been. 

Slowly, and with careful footsteps, his father backs away from the television, doing his best not to introduce any static by interfering with the antenna behind the box. The barely contained apprehension and exhilaration in his joints keeps his limbs remarkably still, even as he relaxes into the reclining chair without truly relaxing at all. Leaning forward on his knees, he adjusts his glasses on the tip of his nose and releases a slow, almost silent sigh. Chanyeol releases his own deep breath, hoping he sounds just as serious and invested.

'How come you're not there, Papa?' he questions, looking between his father and the television.

For months, he has been working late, coming home with deep set bags under his eyes long after supper has been cleaned and put away. It strikes him now that his father came home relatively on time today, joining them for dinner without eating, talking in large, complicated theories and figures that has his mother nodding in interest. Kicking his feet against the couch excitedly, he wonders if, maybe, he will see his father on the television.

'They don't need me there,' he explains, getting off the chair to turn the volume up. 'I helped with only some of math, some of the planning. Essential people are there to provide emergency support.'

'Oh,' he hums airily, and his mother chuckles, pointing at the screen for him to pay attention.

Muffled voices speak over an insignia he can only just make out. Low and gruff in their authoritative urgency, they confirm a rotational degree that has his father releasing a grunt of confirmation, seemingly pleased by the number. Over and over, he traces the shape of the logo with his eyes, its blurry letters arched elegantly above a rocky landscape. CBS news broadcasters talk amongst themselves in between command announcements, narrating a screen they confirm to be an animation, and Chanyeol’s eyes bug slightly, having been convinced the rocket was entirely real. A countdown clock depicts twelve minutes and twenty-seven seconds until touchdown, the rocket releasing a blast that has fire streaking across the screen. 

Wiggling out of his mother’s hold, he leans forward and points. 'What's that, Papa?'

'Those are the thrusters,’ he says quickly, though he does his best to keep his voice gentle, doing his best to educate. ‘They help with getting the rocket into orbit for landing.’

Transfixed, he stares at the screen and reads the numbers in English. Recently, his teachers praised him for his excellent reading skills, and he takes his time forming the words with his mouth and tongue, ensuring there is no trace of his natural accent. 

‘Velocity is 4,000 F.P.S,’ he recites, folding his hands in his lap, proud that he can pronounce numbers so well in his second language. ‘Altitude is 45,000 feet. That’s higher than Mount Everest, Mama,’ he says, offering her an informative smile as he, too, adjusts the glasses perched on his nose.

‘Is it?’ she asks, sounding surprised. Keen to hear more, she leans close, regarding him expectantly.

‘Yes,’ he nods seriously. ‘We just learned about it in geography this week. This is higher by about…’ Knotting his brow together once more, he quickly does mental math the way his father taught him to, converting kilometers to feet, counting diligently with his fingers. ‘By 15,900 feet,’ he finishes confidently.

‘That’s very high,’ she affirms, looking at the television in wonder. ‘And some very large numbers. You did well.’

‘Well, I am eleven,’ he chastises, because she should know that he is old enough to manage the digits and carry his zeros well. 

Still, it bothers him that he does not have a proper scale to understand how high these numbers are in physical metrics, and he quietly makes a plan to create this with his own hands by collecting popsicle sticks his sister discards after her snack.

Focusing his attention back to the screen, he sees that it has changed, the animated rocket moving over the rocky landscape, and now he can finally see the words clearly. The land below the letters is dotted with black holes, some areas brilliantly smooth and others, craggy and mountainous. It is unlike any place he has ever seen, and he casts a sidelong glance to his Atlas in the living room bookshelf, wondering if he missed a page, a country, or, perhaps, if he has not studied the section on the sea closely enough.

'Apollo 11,' he reads out loud, cocking his head to the side as he racks his brain for a country with this name. 'Where are they going?'

To no one in particular, his father smiles. 'That's the Moon.'

‘The Moon?’ he exclaims, incredulously. Sitting up straight, he casts his father a bewildered expression, feeling the tips of his ears growing hot in anticipation. ‘This is the Moon landing? We’re watching the Moon Landing? That’s what you’ve been working on? Why didn’t you say anything?’

‘I couldn’t tell you what I was doing.’ The explanation is curt, brief at best, and pressed between the pauses on the television. ‘It was classified. Besides, isn’t this a nice surprise?’

‘No, it’s not,’ he protests. As he speaks, he hears his voice become filled with the emphatic and insistent cadence it adopts when he has been scorned or told that he is wrong when he knows he is right, and while he can hear it happening, knows that this kind of indignant protesting will result in his being scolded, he simply does not know how to stop. ‘Everyone knows someone is going to the Moon. It’s all anyone has been talking about at school.’

‘Yes.’ The nod of vague acquiescence he receives makes his hands grip the cushion of the couch, the tips of his fingers taking on a curious tingle, swollen with adrenaline. ‘But I couldn’t have you telling everyone your father was involved, could I.’

Chanyeol shakes his head vigorously, lips parted in slight dejection. ‘I wouldn’t have told anyone.’

Finally turning to look at him, his father peers at him knowingly over the rim of his glasses, one eyebrow arched in warning. In this false sense of quiet, Chanyeol is filled with the overwhelming sense that he is treading on dangerous waters, his overzealous nature getting the best of him - a habit he has and, at such a young age, is still learning to manage. Silence is difficult, makes his skin hurt when he is this passionate, this eager, finding it impossibly difficult to calm his abject disquiet at being denied information. 

Still, his father’s watchful brow is admonishing enough, words drying in his throat as he crosses his arms over his chest with a quiet huff. 

Falling back into the couch, he frowns and settles back into his mother’s side. ‘Okay,’ he mumbles, doing his best not to sound dramatically despondent. ‘But only just Rodney. He’s my only friend, and he’s here all the time anyway.’ 

Turning his attention back to the television, his father effectively puts an end to the conversation. ‘Just watch.’ 

It takes less than six minutes for his sister to fall asleep, shoulders slumping as she curls in their mother’s lap, tiny hands gripping her shirt for comfort. She breathes evenly, peacefully, and while Chanyeol does long to join her, steadily growing more tired the longer he stares at a terrain that looks precisely the same from all directions, something in his belly keeps him awake, far more alert than he usually would be. He can hear it in the voices of the announcers, the way they say just enough, never too much, mystified just the same by the words of the commanders. 

As time passes, he latches on to certain phrases, words that normally would not go together but sound remarkable when said within the same breath. 

Fuel Monitor. Approach phase.

His vocabulary books have not yet taught him some of these words, but he recalls, very distantly, hearing his father muttering numbers and ratios alongside these phrases late at night while hunched over the dining table. Sometimes, when he would sneak down from his bedroom in the late hours of the night for a glass of water, Chanyeol would see him curled over in his chair, scribbling notes in the dim light of a desk lap. At the time, they sounded musical, like lullabies he might have been rehearsing to help his sister fall asleep.

Now, he chastises himself for not having paid attention to the way they are heavy, powerful, curving around his tongue as they take hold of parts of him he did not know existed. They cling to him, burrow down into his marrow and settle, not unlike roots.

Wondering how they would sound coming from his mouth, in his voice, he mumbles to himself, silently letting them escape on his exhale, trying them on for size. All at once he feels terribly important, the sudden weight of responsibility impossibly great, and so he returns to simply watching, feeling as though he has rushed himself somewhere he is not yet ready to be, but wants just the same.

When the countdown hits zero, he expects a cacophony of noise, and inwardly prepares for an eruption of joy so volatile he thinks the earth may crumble. It is finished, so therefore everyone should be celebrating its completion, but still his father remains seated - though, he is hardly in his chair at all. Over time, he has inched forward on the cushion, preciously balanced on the edge as he presses the palms of his hands into the fabric of his slacks. 

Everyone seems to be waiting, and so he decides to wait too, the tension in the room feeling not unlike the threat of loss. Wringing his hands together, he squirms restlessly, room so quiet he wonders if anyone is even breathing, if even the men on the news have decided to stop the air in their lungs, oxygen unnecessary now that men have learned to walk through space. 

Eventually, after what feels like an impossibly long time, he hears it:

“Houston, the Eagle has landed.”

In one swift motion, his father leaps from his chair, hands clutched at his sides in fists and eyes latched on the screen as his mouth opens, uncertain if he should laugh or cry or both all at the same time, a guttural noise of unprecedented awe. His mother lifts one hand to her mouth as she laughs, the fervor of her amazement jostling him gently, their determinedly poised expression of triumph somehow wondrously loud. Outside, beyond the picture window of the living room, he can hear other families celebrating, some brought out into the street to set off firecrackers; the magnitude of their excitement a thunder that rolls through the night sky, victorious in nature and marvelously unifying in its breadth.

Craning his neck up and back, he glances out the window to the night sky and studies the moon, her paltry light and her enduring solitude, and he shifts against the couch cushion to get closer. Nestled deeply into the inky black of the night, the moon is not yet full, little more than a sliver of light he thinks could be his fingernail, a piece of him etched into the sky. Never in his life as it appeared so close, the surrounding shadows doing little to mistake her shape for smallness, so near to him now he imagines he could reach out and touch it. He tries to picture it, the bodies of people walking along the surface as he holds it in his hands, tries to imagine them, their figures moving through the light, but sees nothing, just the rise and fall of her light, the craters and the white. 

When he looks back at the broadcast, once more the scene has changed but this time the animations and projections have completely disappeared. Now, it is simply the Moon - the Moon and its landscape, inching ever closer as the rocket made its descent. A small notice in the corner states that footage comes with a delay, and therefore he is seeing, now, what he should have been seeing several minutes ago. He falls into them the same way the rocket seemed to fall slowly, delicately, to the surface, as though he was there, as though this secondary, retroactive landing is all his own.

Gripping the edge of the cushion, he finds there is something profoundly compelling about the surface of the Moon, and all its vast emptiness. Though there is nothing, it seems there is an ever present something, an itch at the back of his mind that feels perplexingly like delight and disappointment at the same time. 

‘How come we’re only seeing these now?’

Looking to his father for just a moment, he hopes there is a reasonable explanation for why he should only be receiving this information now. Now, when there is likely so much more to be seen, so much more to know, and so much he is unable to see, doing his best not to feel heartbroken at the prospect. 

‘It takes time for the image information to come back to Earth,’ he explains evenly, having finally reclined back into his chair now that the great work has been completed. ‘It takes time for Mission Control to receive, process, and broadcast them.’

It is logical, he knows, but still it is not enough. He thinks nothing will ever be enough, ever again. ‘Why?

Chuckling, his father releases a sigh. ‘Light has to travel between Earth and the Moon, and our technology just hasn’t caught up with light yet.’ He pauses momentarily, falling quiet in that dreamy way Chanyeol admires when his father is about to say something profound, something that always makes him feel like puzzles are the embodiment of bliss. ‘It will, though, one day.’

Chanyeol likes that idea, the notion that something, anything, could move alongside beams of light. Sometimes, when his mother lets him set up the tent in the backyard, he takes his flashlight and his binoculars out and points them to the sky, hoping for a better view of the stars. The beam from his flashlight reaches upward, higher than his own arms can stretch, far past the trees and up into nothingness. It always seems to happen in an instant.

‘How fast is light?’

His father hums, considering the question. ‘Think about it this way,’ he begins, still sounding far away, immersed in his thoughts. ‘It takes light from the Sun eight minutes and seventeen seconds to reach Earth.’ Chanyeol’s eyes widen, acutely aware of the vast distance between the Sun and the Earth, and the way his parent’s Buick could never go that fast - not even the boat they took to get here could compete. ‘Imagine moving that fast.’

His attention moves back to the lunar surface, eyes still wide as he studies the deep craters and the way the black of the sky beyond is somehow even more black than the one he sees beyond his window. This black is infinite, all consuming, and he has the creeping sensation that if he were to reach out to touch it, his very hand would disappear. Swallowing thickly, he stares at it, mystified, trying to recall if the monochrome of their television has ever been so dark. 

“It’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”

A laugh erupts from his father, the loudest his laugh has ever been and his mother simply shakes her head, voice having fled perhaps to where the stars are hung. Chanyeol watches as his father laughs and claps his hands, a myriad of emotions walking over his face with each exhale of breath. 

‘Whose voice is that?’ he asks, wanting to know who made his father so happy.

‘Astronaut Neil Armstrong.’ 

Astronaut. This is a word he knows, one his classmates have been saying repeatedly over the last three days. The first time he’d heard it, he returned home and went immediately to his mother’s English dictionary, searching for a better definition than the one his peers have provided. 

Astronaut. A noun. Added to English lexicon in 1929, a date not too far reaching in the past, a date that reminds him of sepia toned white linen clothes and Japan. A compound of Astron and Nautes, Greek for Star and Sailor respectively. Popularized in 1961 due to America’s space travel program, now meaning space-traveler. 

He likes Star Sailor better, but up until this moment he had no frame of reference for the application, no sense of who would do such a thing, or how. Astronaut Neil Armstrong has a rich voice, one that he likes listening to, clear toned and full of good humor. Apprehension waits at the back of each of his words, every word he says a first, every step he takes a first, everything about Neil Armstrong is first.

‘I could do that,’ he whispers to no one, just for himself and the sky.

Gripped by his sudden jealousy, by Neil Armstrong’s voice, and the way he must wait, impatiently, for several minutes just to see something new, he seemingly both forgets his parents are in the room with him and wishes, simultaneously and all the way into his blood, that it was him on the Moon and not Neil. He doesn’t want to wait to see it all, he wants every moment to be filled with this kind of enterprising discovery, this kind of relentless adventure. It is not enough to see the high contrast of black and white on the screen, because he knows, as though he has always known, the world beyond is so much more colourful than this. 

Sometimes, when he goes camping with Rodney and his parents, they sneak out of their tent long past bedtime and look up at the stars - the sky dotted endlessly with blots of light. In the shimmer of night, the light has colours - the sky a deep purple, the stars a mix of red and blue and yellow, sometimes even green in their hue. Surely, the view from the moon must be just as brilliant, and Chanyeol hates that he is not seeing it, not really, not for himself. 

It’s when Neil Armstrong begins to jump that things begin to change, the lines between himself and the astronaut blurring altogether. In the low gravity of the Moon, the scene fades from the surface of the moon to something new entirely, the broadcasters laughing incredulously at the sheer silliness of it. Neil Armstrong takes long strides, lifting off the balls of his feet and jumping forward, landing gently on the surface before repeating the action.

Everyone is laughing. Neil’s voice is full of childish glee. His father presses his head back into the cushion of the chair, eyes closed as though welcoming a rapture. Beside him, his mother swallows her laughter, afraid of moving too much and waking his sister. Chanyeol thinks the whole world might be laughing in unison, bonded by the pure euphoria of this moment.

But he is excluded from this. He is not euphoric. He is ravenous.

Chanyeol rises to a stand, convinced now that he is just the same as Neil and, because there is no difference, he should not have to wait to touch the Moon himself. 

Moving through the living room with fast strides, he is reminded of his mother’s rule that there is no running in the house. He’s not really running, he thinks, moving at a speed just below the true definition of running, passing through the kitchen to the sliding glass door and into the back yard. Behind him, his parents are calling out, demanding that he come back to the couch. But he ignores them, eyes trained on his singular goal.

Summer’s trampoline is set up in the center of the soft grass, just beyond the patio. A consolation for their lack of a pool, he spends most of his days bouncing while his sister watches from the side, head craned upward to watch him soar. He’s been tremendously silly, he thinks, spending nearly the entire month of June and into July attempting a back flip when he should have been doing this.

Hippity hoppity.

Climbing onto the trampoline, he takes off his slippers and socks, tossing them over the side and into the grass. His mother lingers in the doorway, calling for him to come down and come back inside, but he doesn’t listen. Chanyeol jumps, bracing himself and bending his knees for each landing so he can gain more height, more speed. With each rise and fall he keeps his eyes trained on the Moon, the sliver of light that looms ever closer, growing more bright the longer he looks. At his highest point, he reaches out his arms, letting his hands trace its edges, before falling away, slipping away back to Earth. 

If he gets close enough, he is certain he could grab hold of it, certain that he too is defying gravity, the laws of science that his father so often lectures him about. Putting more force into his knees, he jumps again, his mother’s voice a scolding bark of annoyance and irritation - claiming that he will break the trampoline, that he will hurt himself, that he will wake his sister and other neighbors. 

Let them see, he thinks. Chanyeol wants them all to watch as he grabs hold of the Moon and refuses to let go. 

Because, why shouldn’t it be him?

Hippity hoppity.

Author’s Note: this originally was intended to be part of the much larger one shot, but as i was writing i felt that it kind of stood alone as more a prologue than anything else. this moment is not referenced again in the full story, but it does set up a lot of information about chanyeol, why he goes to space to begin with, and will be reflected in a different scene within the full story. @j-pping​ and i both agreed it suits the series best as a prologue so i hope you enjoy it ;--;

Research Notes: i watched the archival footage of the Moon landing from NASA and CBS news archives. the quotes italicized were actual words said during the landing. neil’s famous quote is actually ‘one small step for a man [...]’ however due to delay and dropped frequency the word was lost - this is also why most commands and answers were four words at max. the original news broadcast was done in technicolor, however owning a TV in technicolor was still not entirely common in the 60s and become more prominent in the early 70s, hence why Chanyeol watches everything in black and white. if anyone reading this is an astrophysicist, im doing my best to research everything featured in this story to precise accuracy but if something is wrong im sorry and please let me know :(

tag list: @delightpcy​ @noellestrash​ @falsemagic​ @wonderlustlucas​ @junkfoodwriting​ @taestfully​ @heatofmyexoheart​ @5am-rainyandgrey​ @dont-have-fear​ @cloudyhaechan @pimolalola @ahgishaman​ @softly-savage-mint-yoongi​ @yehet-me-up​ @lamichellee​

#chanyeol x reader #chanyeol x you #exosnet #kwritersworldnet #exowritersnet #chanyeol scenario #chanyeol angst #chanyeol au #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol fanfiction #chanyeol romance #exo au #exo scenario #exo romance #exo angst #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #park chanyeol

[seasonofthewicth]

A Groovy Kind of Love - Chapter 6

AN: I feel like I’ve got my mojo back with this fic a little bit, this was so fun to write and I hope it’s fun to read too!

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------

First days were always nerve-racking, and this one was no different.

Aelin knew she had no real reason to be nervous other than the fact it was new, she had prepared what she needed, even taking extra time this morning to make sure she had put on a swipe of make-up and a smart outfit to feel primed for the day.

She’d taken it upon herself to wake Fenrys up half an hour earlier than normal to make sure he would be ready to leave on time, she knew he normally rocked up to the school right on the bell, but she needed to be at least five minutes early to meet the principal, lest she look unprepared.

Fenrys had left her outside the principal’s office, waiting for the woman to arrive, taking in the blue carpet of the floor and the wooden panels of the walls. The school was in an old building, with mostly traditional décor that gave it character unlike her old school. She liked it. Even though the chair she sat in was hard and uncomfortable as she shifted her weight while she waited for the principal to appear.

She had been thankful for Fenrys’ comforting presence in the car on their way, he had chattered away filling her in on the harmless school gossip, distracting her from her worries about the new school, but now he was gone, off to teach his own classes for the day, the nerves had settled back in.

He had been almost more excited than Aelin about her new role, glad to have her at the school, and he had championed most of the drinking the night she had found out. She had had a great night, each of her friends seemed genuinely happy for her and had toasted to her all night, even once she had gone to bed they had continued to celebrate.

She hadn’t managed to quiz Lysandra after her kiss with Aelin’s cousin, whenever Aedion came up between the two Lysandra had been quick to change the subject, embarrassed at her drunk actions and the fact that they had even played truth or dare at all.

Aedion had recovered well, from Lysandra’s determined ignorance of his existence every time she saw him since, and Aelin was relatively sure he had brought a guest home from the night she hadn’t made it out to and had instead gone to bed.

Gone to bed might have been putting it generously, she remembered the way Rowan had guided her to her room. A gentle hand making sure she didn’t stumble, tucking her sheets over her and leaving a glass of water for her to down in the morning.

Her heart gave a squeeze at how gentle he had been.

Heels clacked against the cheap flooring and she glanced up. The woman striding towards her was dressed smartly in a black pencil skirt and a navy blue blouse. She had a couple of decades on Aelin, but her dark locks didn’t have even a hint of grey, nor did her harsh face have the beginning of a wrinkle.

The woman strode up to Aelin and presented her with a hand.

“Miss Galathynius I presume? Welcome to our school.” Her voice was stern but polite and Aelin stood and shook the hand she was offered. “I’m Maeve Valg, Principal, we’re glad to have you on board. Please follow me.”

The woman, Maeve, led the way into the office Aelin had been sat outside. Aelin nodded, greeting the woman and following her in.

Inside the office it was tidy, shelves lined the walls, overflowing with books and files, but organised in a way that Aelin was jealous of. Her own organisation wasn’t lacking, it couldn’t be, as a teacher she needed to know where things were, but she could never reach this level of military-style precision.

The Principal took a seat behind the large wooden desk in the centre of the room and Aelin dropped to the seat on the other side, facing her.

“Welcome,” She said again, a polite smile on her lips.

“Thank you, it’s great to be here.” Aelin said, folding her hands in her lap.

First impressions were important, and she knew she’d be able to get away with much more at a later date if she gave Maeve the initial impression that she was to be trusted.

Maeve nodded.

“It’s great to have you here, I was impressed with your interview, and I’m confident that you will fit into our school ethos well.”

Aelin smiled. She knew from Fenrys that the school valued the community spirit and communication between teachers a departments, she was excited to get stuck in. She told Maeve as much and she received another slight smile.

A knock sounded at the door behind her and Maeve called for whoever was on the other side to come in.

“Ah yes,” Maeve said standing from behind her desk. “I’ve invited Mr Havilliard to show you around. He can give you a bit more information than I can as I have to attend a meeting now.”

Aelin turned to the man in the doorway and saw he was grinning at her.

He was as handsome as a Disney prince, his thick dark hair curled around his ears, and his deep blue eyes were striking and sparkling. She took in his clean white shirt and pressed trousers where he stood. He wasn’t as tall as her roommates, but he still tilted his chin to smile down at her.

“Dorian Havilliard.” He offered his hand. “At your service.”

She shook his hand. “Aelin Galathynius.”

He grinned at her even wider than before. “Follow me Aelin,” He turned to the door with a nod behind her at the principal.

“Thanks,” She smiled at the dark haired woman before following Dorian out the door.

Once in the hall, his posture relaxed, and Aelin adjusted hers in response. He led the way down the nearest hallway, the corridors empty of any students given that the first period had already begun.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s a hard ass, but you get used to it.” He told her, his voice was low and smooth.

“Right, good to know,” She joked. “I was worried.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. She’s like that with me still and I’ve been here for years.”

She blinked; he couldn’t have been much older than her. He must have sensed her confusion, or seen the look that crossed her face, and said, “I’ve been here seven years, got the job straight out of college, worked my way up to be one of the assistant principals last year.”

Impressive, Aelin noted. He must have been at least couple of years older than her then, making him maybe thirty, if her quick mental maths added up.

“What do you teach?” She asked him, curious about that path he had taken to get where he was.

“English,” He told her. “I love it, have loved it since I was a kid.”

Aelin shared his interest, she had loved reading ever since her childhood and her mother had bought her book after book when she devoured the stories one by one. She supposed that was where her interest in history had stemmed from, reading historical fiction had led her to historical non-fiction and she found the tales of knights and kings and queens to be fascinating. Sweeping her away into tales of honour and warfare and romance, distant enough from her reality to transport her away.

They were making their way down the halls, Dorian pointing out the points of interest on their tour, telling her where the cafeteria was, where the main hall and staff rooms were. He showed her where her office would be, and they walked past the classroom that would become hers once she had time to make it her own.

“So,” He turned to her after walking her through the grounds of the school, showing her the sports pitches and athletics track. “What’s your story?”

She pondered his question for a moment, chewing the inside of her lip slightly as she took in his smile and the way he was walking close to her, his shoulders leaning into her own.

“My story?” She shrugged, flicking her eyes out across the field in front of her. “I lost my old job to budget cuts, but I’d been there for a couple of years. I actually moved here after college when I qualified and then got the job pretty much straight away.”

He nodded along as she spoke, a dark curl of his hair bobbing along his forehead as he did, but then he tilted his head at her, a piercing look in his sapphire-blue eyes.

“I knew you weren’t from around here, but I couldn’t place the accent.”

“I’m from Terrasen.” She told him, thinking fondly of her home country and her parents who lived there still. It’s rolling mountains and grassy plains that she had explored as a child, sometimes alone, sometimes with Aedion when him and his parents came to visit.

“My accent isn’t as strong now that I’ve been in Adarlan for so long.”

Dorian only smiled at her. “I like it.”

She smiled, unsure how else to respond. Was it wise to flirt with a colleague? She wasn’t truly sure she wanted to flirt with him, and she fought the part of her brain that flashed an image of Rowan up at her. She was trying her best to keep her distance, at least in that respect.

“I teach history, I love it, but I love reading too. I also live with Fenrys, I don’t know if you know him?”

“Fenrys?” He questioned. “Coach Moonbeam?”

She nodded and watched something flash across his face at the confirmation, something she’d have to ask Fenrys about. If his reputation had ruined her first friendship at the school before it had barely had chance to start she’d kill him.

“Yeah,” She confirmed warily. “We live together. He told me about the opening here.”

“I see.” She couldn’t place Dorian’s reaction to her roommate, so quickly changed the subject.

“Any advice for this school?” She asked as he held the door open for her to re-enter the building.

“Not really,” He huffed a slight laugh, scratching his jaw. “Stick with me, and a couple of other teachers here that are pretty sound, and you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah? You’ll have to introduce me.”

Maybe if she could make her own friends here she wouldn’t have to follow Fenrys around like a lost puppy.

He checked his watch, something silver and clearly expensive before saying, “Actually, I think some of them might be free now.”

He led her back through the hallways to the staff room he had pointed out earlier and pushed into the small room.

There were kitchen counters around the sides, a number of cupboards no doubt stuffed full of mugs and plates, standard for a school staff room. There were tables and chairs dotted about the space and at one of the tables sat a man and two women, each nursing a mug that based on the smell she knew contained coffee.

“Aelin,” Dorian began. “Meet Chaol, Yrene and Nehemia.”

He pointed around the table as he made the introductions.

The man, Chaol, was stern looking but his expression lightened when he offered her a small smile, his copper-brown eyes crinkling at the motion. The woman next to him smiled widely at Aelin, Yrene, was beautiful, and her brown hair fell in spirals down her back, golden highlights standing out. A shining ring on her left hand glinted as she waved at Aelin around her mug.

The final woman, Nehemia, was striking. Her dark skin was smooth and her raven hair, braided down her back, had small elements of gold scattered throughout. Nehemia shot her a sly grin upon introduction, Aelin liked her immediately.

“Guys meet Aelin Galathynius. The new head of humanities, Terrasen native and Fenrys Moonbeam’s roommate.”

At Dorian’s introduction Chaol nearly choked on a mouthful of coffee and Nehemia outright cackled. Aelin needed to ask Fenrys about it.

“Hi Aelin,” Yrene smiled at her, her face kind as she waved a hand at the teachers on either side of herself. “Ignore them, welcome. How is your first day going?”

“It’s fine so far,” Aelin said as she followed Dorian over to where he was fetching a cup of coffee and grabbing her own. “I’ve had a great tour.”

Nehemia laughed again, “Right.” She said sarcastically and Dorian flashed her the finger.

“Where did he show you? I’m sure he probably managed to leave somewhere out,” Chaol cut in, his tone ribbing Dorian again.

“Everywhere, I think. Or at least I’d hope so.” She said, taking her seat next to him, Dorian slotting in on her other side.

“Hmm,” Chaol hummed, shooting an unimpressed look at Dorian who held his hands up, grinning at Chaol.

“I did!” Dorian protested to Chaol who rolled his eyes and sighed a laugh. Aelin laughed along, she could tell Chaol was exasperated, but fond of Dorian.

The dynamic between the group was easy, friendly and teasing, but clearly a very tight knit group. Chaol and Yrene were an adorable couple, very much in love, Dorian had sung at her when she had asked. Nehemia had a killer sense of humour, mostly at Dorian’s expense, but he always laughed along, taking the jokes in his stride.

He had been extremely friendly towards her. Filling all of the gaps in her knowledge without her needing to ask, touching her gently on the arm when he directed the conversation to her.

He was an extremely attractive man, with a charming kind of confidence that she normally would have been all over. Had she met him in a bar, she could see herself sliding into the seat next to him and flashing him a small smile while she accepted the drink he would have offered to buy her.

But they weren’t in a bar, they were at work, and he was technically her boss.

She could hear Lysandra’s warnings, you know it’s a bad idea, she would tut before reassuring Aelin she could find a man anywhere else, that she didn’t need Dorian and his disarming smiles.

Lysandra, as per usual, was probably right.

------

The rest of her day flew by quickly. She had a brief introduction to her classes from Maeve, fresh out of her meeting with the school board, and she had had some time to move her belongings and teaching aids into her classroom. Tomorrow would be her first full day of teaching and she was prepared.

It was only later that evening that she remembered to ask Fenrys about Dorian and his friends’ reactions to his name, even though they had driven home together he had filled the journey with tales of his students and their inabilities to play simple games.

She cornered him in the kitchen as he grabbed a beer from the fridge, resting her hand against the island, blocking his exit as she asked.

“Dorian Havilliard?” He questioned; his face carefully blank.

“Yes, do you know him? He had an interesting reaction to your name.”

More than just that, his friends had outright laughed at Dorian when Fenrys’ name had been mentioned. Surely all of the outlandish situations her imagination was telling her were way off, it had to be something small.

Fenrys sighed, taking a swig of his beer and lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck.

“Dorian Havilliard and I have a history.” He winced as he said the words.

Aelin groaned. She could try to repair any fights they had had; she knew she could definitely blackmail Fenrys into an apology, she liked Dorian and his friends.

“What kind of a history?” She narrowed her eyes.

A blush started on Fenrys’ neck, spreading up to his cheeks.

“A… sexual history.”

“No!” She gasped.

She ran through the interactions she and Dorian had had today. She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks, she had thought he had been flirting with her, complimenting her accent and the way he had been leaning into her. How had she read it so wrong? And Fenrys had a… history with him?

Fenrys bit his lip as he nodded.

“Oh gods,” She groaned, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I thought he was flirting with me.”

Fenrys shrugged, unbothered by both her reaction and his own revelation. “He probably was, to be fair. He flirts with everyone.”

It was that moment that Rowan chose to come into the kitchen.

She fought the small wave of embarrassment at the sight of him, at the thought of the conversation they had had when she thanked him for putting her to bed. She hadn’t been sure whether to mention it or not but decided it would have been worse to not acknowledge it.

He had been graceful, reassuring her with a small smile that it was no bother. Which she appreciated, had the roles been switched she would have made sure he got to bed. Well, she would have tried.

And she was grateful, any of her other roommates probably would have left her on the couch. Lorcan probably would have even taken photos of her passed out, probably would have enjoyed seeing how many things he could have balanced on her sleeping form.  

“Who flirts with everyone?” He asked, stepping around her to get to the fridge.

He was dressed in his usual uniform of jeans and a flannel shirt; this one was green, and it complemented his silver hair.

“Fenrys’ ex, one of the teachers at the school.” She told him, but Fenrys shook his head around a mouthful of his beer.

“Not my ex,” He said once he had swallowed. “It was a one-time thing. Years ago.”

It reassured her slightly that she hadn’t been crazy, and that she had probably picked up on the cues from Dorian correctly.

“He was flirting with you?” Rowan turned to her, pulling his own beer out of the fridge, his tan face unreadable.

“I think so,” She pursed her lips.

“Oh,” Rowan’s voice was quiet, and he looked down to the beer in his hand.

“It was probably nothing,” She found herself saying. “I wasn’t flirting back.”

“You could.” Fenrys said from beside her. “It would be fine with me, he’s a decent enough guy. Good in bed too.”

She pushed him on the arm, and he laughed.

“Didn’t need to know that,” She laughed as she pushed his arm again when he made a suggestive gesture at her. “Get out that’s gross.”

“Didn’t think you were a prude, Galathynius.” He teased, but turned from the room, blowing a kiss at her as he left.

She turned to Rowan, who remained leaning against the counter opposite her, picking at the label on his beer bottle.

“Office romance on day one, huh?” He teased her, his lips twitching with the smirk that was threatening to break through.

“Stop that,” She told him. “It was very light flirting.”

He shrugged at her, taking a sip of his beer.  

“If that even, he probably wasn’t. Or maybe I’m making it up.”

“Now you stop.” Rowan told her; his eyebrows drawn as he pushed off from the counter. “Why wouldn’t he have been flirting with you?”

She raised her eyebrow at him, unimpressed, daring him to continue.

“I’m serious,” He continued, stepping over until he was directly in front of her.

Every time they were close she was struck by how much bigger he was than her. And how good he smelled, his pine and snow combination was clean and fresh, she took a deep breath in.

“Why wouldn’t he want to flirt with you?”

She tilted her head up to look at him, suddenly vulnerable in what had previously been a light-hearted conversation, taking in his serious expression. His eyes were earnest as he looked into her own.

“I don’t know,” She started, not drawing her eyes away from his. She wasn’t sure she was able to. “After Arobynn I haven’t been flirted with for a while.”

She loosed a self-deprecating laugh.

He put his beer down on the counter, resting his hand on the counter by her side, his front was almost pressed up against hers now and her breaths came quickly.

“Of course you have,” He told her, his voice soft. “Maybe you just haven’t noticed.”

She swallowed hard.

He picked up a piece of her hair between two of his fingers, smiling gently as he twisted the strand around a knuckle. Aelin liked his smile, it showed a lighter side of him, and he looked especially handsome when he did.

“I think I would notice if guys had been flirting with me.” Her voice was rough as his other hand came down on the bench by her waist. He boxed her in to the island now, close enough to her to share breath, as he hummed in response.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she felt as if an electric current was thrumming below her skin at his close proximity.

“I’m not convinced.” His voice rumbled over her skin, his breath brushing her ear sending shivers down her spine as she tucked her chin down at the sensation. Her action pinned Rowan’s face in the crook of her neck, but he didn’t pull away, instead he pressed his face into the spot where her shoulder met her neck, breathing her in deeply.

His lips brushed against her neck, their touch feather light.

Aelin couldn’t move. She was sure she was panting now; Rowan’s own breaths had increased their pace where she felt his chest pressing against her own. Each brush lighting sparks along her skin.

She needed to be careful, this would look incriminating to any of their roommates if they walked in now, but she couldn’t connect her brain to her body.

While her rational brain was screaming at her to step away and put some distance between herself and Rowan, her traitorous body urged her to press closer into Rowan. Urged her to press her hips against his own and generate the friction she craved.

Rowan’s brain seemed to work faster than her own as he drew his head back with a hiss, leaning on his heels to put some distance between them. She felt the cold where her body now touched only air.

His green eyes were dark, almost taken over by his pupils as he scanned her face.

He cleared his throat and picked his beer back up of the island.

“I think you’d notice.” He told her with a hint of a smile.

He stepped back from her fully and left the kitchen without another word. She heard his bedroom door close before she managed to breathe again.

She screwed her eyes shut as she squeezed her thighs together, trying to convince herself she felt nothing.

He was a rutting good flirt, damn him. She definitely noticed.

------

tags:

@jesstargaryenqueen​

@maybekindasortaace​

@slytheringalathynius​

@http-itsrebecca​

@morganofthewildfire​

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato​

@fictional-horan​

@tottenhamboys20​

@dressedindustandshadows​

@sleeping-and-books​

@perseusannabeth​

@ireallyshouldsleeprn​

@superspiritfestival​

@aelinfeyreeleven945tbln​

@spyofthenightcourt​

@jlinez​

@queen-of-glass​

@booknerdproblems​

I’ve combined the tag list for this fic and general tog for ease, but I’m not convinced I’ve done it right so let me know if I need to make any changes.

#rowaelin #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan x aelin #rowaelin au #a groovy kind of love #agkol #aedion ashryver #fenrys moonbeam #lorcan salvaterre #lysandra #aedion x lysandra #lysaedion #dorian havilliard #chaol westfall #yrene towers #nehemia ytger #throne of glass fic #throne of glass fanfic #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fanfic #I hope i dont get any hate for my choices lol #fenrys loves dorian in canon lol #wbk

[youarejesting]

BTS365 Prompts.week 28

[Full Masterlist] [Prompt Masterlist] Beta: @jung-hoseok-s-airplane

Please tag me in your work if you use my prompts. I want to see your work. Ever your Jester.

Tell me your birthday and I will tag you on your special day!

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         July 9th - 15th

═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════

Kim Seokjin - Kissing

“Kim Seokjin what do you mean you have never had a first kiss?” You shouted in the middle of the party.

“Shush, what if someone hears you?” You raised an eyebrow as the music was practically deafening and dragged him to an unoccupied bedroom. It was too early for couples to be doing anything naughty just yet. Everyone was only one or two drinks in, so it was easy to find refuge in one of the bedrooms, where you could talk together in peace.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly as I stated, I can’t dance with that girl because what if she wants to kiss, I have never kissed anyone before,” he clearly was overthinking things but you understood his nerves and shivered, remembering how your first kiss was a horrid memory cause you had no clue what you were doing.

“Okay sit down, I think I can teach you?” You pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed because he was taller than you and stepped between his legs so you were closer to him. 

He looked nervous. “Don’t worry, I am nothing more than an acquaintance who speaks to you at parties, we don’t hang out or see each other much so nothing will change. I will just teach you how to kiss so you don’t make a fool out of yourself.”

You took him through the different types of kisses explaining how to tilt his head and how to initiate different levels of the kiss. After explaining certain aspects you showed him with a kiss. Finally, you explained where he could put his hands and something clicked this beautiful specimen was kissing you while holding you in his arms making your heart flutter. 

Min Yoongi - Truth

Min Yoongi never lied, he was blunt and saw no reason to. He watched you though a swindler, you could bluff like the best of them and he knew exactly when you would lie. Of course, he would after watching you work your magic on the passersby out the front of his building. He had no idea you would appear before him asking for his help. You were being blamed for the murder of a young woman and he could tell by your expression you were telling the truth.

Jung Hoseok - Video Games (I want to write this)

You were the best of the best, theû big leagues coming together for the new video game of the century. A breakthrough and something people would kill for. You were given an invitation to participate with nine others, all elite gamers. Unlike a regular virtual reality game, this was a full submersion of the subconscious into the digital realm where your bodies would be semi-paralyzed and brains wired into the system. 

While you couldn’t move physically you were strapped into a machine that moved you the same way as you moved in the game. If you were running you were running on the spot, if you sat danced or anything the machine would simulate this and you had your original limits of flexibility and more. 

It was the first time this was being conducted after years of research and safety testing. The whole game process was said to take at least a year and you would be filmed in the game to show the audience your progress within the game and promote the game style. 

None of you had ever met in person until you were asleep, you all logged in and created your characters.

You met them all one by one but Hoseok caught your eye first. He was an extremely famous strategy game player, ranked number one. You, however, were a master at all types of puzzle games, there was a kid who was a pro at first-person shooters. 

You were going to spend a year together in the game. The only problem was you could feel everything the system tapped into your nerve endings and every artificial breeze every movement was felt. Your vital signs were being monitored so you already had to explain to your team that the spikes in your heart rate were because of Hoseok’s character's tight pants and how he smiled at you.

Kim Namjoon - Math 2.0

“Thank you for coming, she is in her room, I really appreciate this,” your mother’s voice came through the house, to whatever middle-aged tutor she had pulled last minute, “I have the money here please she needs to pass this class otherwise she will have to repeat.”

“No worries Ms. y/l/n,” the voice was kind of deep and raspy. Definitely a smoker probably thirty to forty and aged decently. 

Imagine your surprise when Kim Namjoon the nerdy class president and your nemesis steps into your bedroom talking to your mother. “I will make sure she can pass the class, do not worry ma’am I have been tutoring for a few years now and I have a knack for it.”

Your mother turned to him and you flipped him the middle finger and he smiled back taking your mother’s shoulder and explaining how he planned to have you a model student in a few short weeks. 

His style of teaching was unlike anything you had ever experienced but once you fell in love you looked forward to your tutor sessions. 

Park Jimin - Sugar Cookie (I want to continue this one so bad.)

“Hello welcome to candy land I will be your waiter for this evening can I get you something to drink?”

“Hi, Ms. uh,” A tall man grinned standing and leaning to read the tag on your left breast. “Sugar Cookie, I want you to take this young man here and give him a dance equivalent to this price.” 

“Of course,” you allowed him to offer you a large wad of cash, taking the blushing man's hand. You smiled softly noticing he was very handsome, a real rare gem compared to some customers. “Sweetheart, would you like to come sit with me and we can chat and have some drinks.”

You handed him a drink and headed into the private room sitting beside him, “come sit down, you don’t need to be afraid, I can do anything you ask within these guidelines. No violence, no touching in a sexual nature. You and I have the right to leave if we ever feel unsafe.”

He sat down and you mirrored his posture, “you don’t seem as happy as your friends, is there an Occasion?”

“Yeah I am getting married tomorrow” he sounded sad, his eyes full of despair. 

“Tell me what’s got you sad?”

“I have never met her, it is arranged by our parents.” 

“Well you have some choices,” you smiled standing up, “you live your last night as a single man to the fullest and marry a woman you have never met or you could do everything in your power tonight to prevent the wedding, like fake your own death, or perhaps find someone to marry before tomorrow and then you might be free, I mean your very handsome it should be easy.” 

His eyes lit up and you bit your lip nervous. “Would you marry me?” He said “I could pay and it’s only on paper we don’t have to do anything, we might need pictures though miss um...” he said  gesticulating while trailing off.

“Y/n and I mean I have no plans I can end my shift and sign a document with you.” 

He grabbed your hand and raced to his friends, “change of plans I am getting married tonight let’s go!”

“Hell yeah, let’s go guys Jimin’s gonna marry a stripper!” 

Kim Taehyung - Teddy Bears Picnic

“Hey, little man, what are you doing all the way over here don’t you want to join the picnic with all the other kids?” You asked the Kim boy, he was unique from the other children. Originally from Korea, sometimes it was hard to understand the young child's customs and way of life but you tried your best. He was an adorable little boy who had big round ears which made him look endearing.

“My dad isn’t here yet, he said he would be here?” He said looking out towards the parking lot.

“Theodore is it because you haven’t got a Teddy bear?” You questioned using the boy's English name as it was easier for you. “I have many teddy bears you could borrow, come have some lunch?”

“Teddy!” a voice called and you turned to see a very handsome young man appear.

“Don’t worry, miss this is my bear right here,” the boy grinned up at his dad who scooped him up into a hug.

Jeon Jungkook - Poem

“Poetry slam, Taehyung it’s not my scene?” Jungkook complained for the fifth time but followed his friend with the promise of free pizza. 

“Just be quiet I like poetry, please don’t laugh”

“I will try,” Jungkook sighed, sitting down, he was bored and lost in the dull words from the uninteresting people. 

“Next we have y/n,” the host called and Taehyung clapped enthusiastically. Jungkook sat up hoping this was going to be good. 

She started speaking and painting a picture in his mind with words that felt so romantic, he caught a double meaning to her words and felt his ears and neck turn red at the thought this woman could weave such sultry tales. 

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts drabble #btscreatorscorner #BTS365Prompts #BTS365 #bts prompts #bts birthdays #bts birthday prompts #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #jin x reader #suga x reader #jhope x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts story prompts

[alylionheart]

To Dream

Summary: A trip to the market brings out the imaginative side of Vision.

Pairing: Scarlet Witch x Vision

Word Count: 1,049

Warnings: Im...plications...of smut? In a way?? Its one sentence

Author’s Note: Part of the series-not series of events that occur between Civil War and Infinity War! The other parts are: If The World Stood Still and The Stars but you do not have to read those to understand and enjoy this one!

Masterlist!

The sky is a beautiful shade of orange, like her hair. It’s been like that for almost two years now. He loves the way it brings out the green in her eyes. She’d said it was to help keep herself under the radar, but he couldn’t understand how. It only made her more beautiful in his eyes. To him, she’d draw more attention simply by entering a room.

He tries to focus on reality.

The sky is orange and the sun is starting to set. Her voice is like a melody, a beautiful song he felt honored to hear. She spoke of her childhood, stories of her twin and their parents. She talked of races around the temple, stumbling into the dirt and scraping her knee, Pietro quick to help her to her feet. Vision admired the tales of her brother, his adoration for his sister, the lengths he’d go to protect her. He was cocky when they’d met but had a heart of gold. That was the expression, right?

Reality, Vision. Come back to Earth.

They walked through the town, somewhere in Romania, and she stopped for a moment at the scent of some herbs. It was a small booth amongst others in a marketplace.

It felt like home, she’d said when they first saw it. All the booths; produce grown and picked by the hands that sold them, linens handwoven with beautifully intricate designs, and even handcrafted furniture pieces that had soul in each carved angle. Wanda had begun to talk to the vendor at the herbs and spices stall, a sweet looking woman, and they shared a laugh over something he didn’t hear.

He wasn’t paying attention to them at the moment.

There was another stall that caught his eye, one that sold intricately crafted jewelry. He stepped over to the stall, staring down at the pieces. The necklaces, the bracelets, and rings.

Rings.

Some were colorful and sweet, shaped like hearts of flowers. Most of these were small, possibly intended for young daughters.

Some were beautiful and grand, meant for romantic words, a dirt scuffed knee, and a vow for eternity.

Those were the ones he liked, the ones that grasped his mind and held it in a dream.

Maybe they wouldn’t have eternity.

He didn’t think he’d be so lucky.

Yet, his mind ran with it. It sped off with the idea of eternity with Wanda Maximoff.

Mornings in her arms, her eyes flickering over his face like he was a work of art, as if she wasn’t a masterpiece herself. Breakfast spent watching her prepare her meal, the swing of her hips as she sang a catchy song she’d fallen in love with in France. Other mornings where he’d wake her with a tray of breakfast and the promise that the food was well prepared. Afternoons, the two twisted together in bed, her head on his chest, the television playing a show only she watched, his eyes settled on the glow of her face. Evenings in that same bed, fingers intertwined against the sheets, her gaze filled with adoration, lips parted with breaths that fogged up the room, the sounds she emitted like an elegant tune with beautiful high notes.

All this spent in a house, perhaps, somewhere on the outskirts of Sokovia. She could help rebuild it, like she wanted, put her powers to good use as she’d said. The house wouldn’t be much, nothing grand like what he’d want to offer her, no paradise like the Avengers facility. It would be quaint and sweet, photos they’d taken together, of each other, with each other, hanging on the walls. Fresh flowers in vases on every surface, perfectly picked from the garden in their front yard. A menorah for the holidays, but only on that looked like one she’d had when she was little.

Holidays they’d spend together, every year, just the two of them…and maybe two more of them. They’d be replicas of her image because he couldn’t create them with her. She would teach them Sokovian before English and how to pray in Hebrew. She’d teach them politeness and how to be courteous and kind-hearted, like she is. He’d homeschool them, teach them science and math and everything his internal database could supply, and Wanda would have to reel him in, remind him their only children and can’t understand aerodynamics. Not just yet.

Children of their own. She would be able to accomplish the impossible, creating the kids they’d love. He was sure she could do anything.

After all, she taught a synthetic being how to love.

Maybe this would all stay a dream, maybe they wouldn’t have the time they needed to get close to a life like that.

Yet he stared at one ring, a gold one with a white stone in the center and red stones on both sides of it. It was beautifully made and it just…embodied her soul.

----------

“Vizh? Are you alright?” Wanda asked as she stepped into their hotel room, walking over to the small kitchenette, setting the paper bags of produce and spices down on the counter. “You haven’t said a word since we got back…is something wrong?” She looked back at him with worry filled eyes and something stung in his chest as he realized he put that look on her face.

“Not at all.” He sat down on the bed they shared and held a hand out, inviting her to join him. As she sat beside him, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I bought you something in the market…I wanted to wait until we returned here to give it to you.” She tilted her head in curiosity and he pulled out a ring from his coat pocket. It was silver with a ring of vibrant blue stones around it. “I saw it and it reminded me of Pietro, the color of the trail his speed left behind. I thought it would be a nice reminder…i-if you don’t like it, you don’t have to worry, you don’t have to-“ Her finger to his lips cut him off and he looked over at her. Now he felt a hole in his chest, staring at her beautiful green eyes blurred with tears. “W-Wanda-“

“I love it, Vizh…” She smiled at him, leaning up to close the space between them, kissing his lips softly.

The gold ring he’d seen, he had purchased as well, and sat in his other pocket. For now, the silver one would do. Perhaps the gold one could wait for their next rendezvous…in Edinburgh, Scotland.

Tags: @irndad @animelover929 @saltymermaid @scarletwitchvision

#scarlet witch x vision #scarletvision #wanda maximoff x vision #my fic

[agent-aly-parker]

To Dream

Summary: A trip to the market brings out the imaginative side of Vision.

Pairing: Scarlet Witch x Vision

Word Count: 1,049

Warnings: Im…plications…of smut? In a way?? Its one sentence

Author’s Note: Part of the series-not series of events that occur between Civil War and Infinity War! The other parts are: If The World Stood Still and The Stars but you do not have to read those to understand and enjoy this one!

Masterlist

The sky is a beautiful shade of orange, like her hair. It’s been like that for almost two years now. He loves the way it brings out the green in her eyes. She’d said it was to help keep herself under the radar, but he couldn’t understand how. It only made her more beautiful in his eyes. To him, she’d draw more attention simply by entering a room.

He tries to focus on reality.

The sky is orange and the sun is starting to set. Her voice is like a melody, a beautiful song he felt honored to hear. She spoke of her childhood, stories of her twin and their parents. She talked of races around the temple, stumbling into the dirt and scraping her knee, Pietro quick to help her to her feet. Vision admired the tales of her brother, his adoration for his sister, the lengths he’d go to protect her. He was cocky when they’d met but had a heart of gold. That was the expression, right?

Reality, Vision. Come back to Earth.

They walked through the town, somewhere in Romania, and she stopped for a moment at the scent of some herbs. It was a small booth amongst others in a marketplace.

It felt like home, she’d said when they first saw it. All the booths; produce grown and picked by the hands that sold them, linens handwoven with beautifully intricate designs, and even handcrafted furniture pieces that had soul in each carved angle. Wanda had begun to talk to the vendor at the herbs and spices stall, a sweet looking woman, and they shared a laugh over something he didn’t hear.

He wasn’t paying attention to them at the moment.

There was another stall that caught his eye, one that sold intricately crafted jewelry. He stepped over to the stall, staring down at the pieces. The necklaces, the bracelets, and rings.

Rings.

Some were colorful and sweet, shaped like hearts of flowers. Most of these were small, possibly intended for young daughters.

Some were beautiful and grand, meant for romantic words, a dirt scuffed knee, and a vow for eternity.

Those were the ones he liked, the ones that grasped his mind and held it in a dream.

Maybe they wouldn’t have eternity.

He didn’t think he’d be so lucky.

Yet, his mind ran with it. It sped off with the idea of eternity with Wanda Maximoff.

Mornings in her arms, her eyes flickering over his face like he was a work of art, as if she wasn’t a masterpiece herself. Breakfast spent watching her prepare her meal, the swing of her hips as she sang a catchy song she’d fallen in love with in France. Other mornings where he’d wake her with a tray of breakfast and the promise that the food was well prepared. Afternoons, the two twisted together in bed, her head on his chest, the television playing a show only she watched, his eyes settled on the glow of her face. Evenings in that same bed, fingers intertwined against the sheets, her gaze filled with adoration, lips parted with breaths that fogged up the room, the sounds she emitted like an elegant tune with beautiful high notes.

All this spent in a house, perhaps, somewhere on the outskirts of Sokovia. She could help rebuild it, like she wanted, put her powers to good use as she’d said. The house wouldn’t be much, nothing grand like what he’d want to offer her, no paradise like the Avengers facility. It would be quaint and sweet, photos they’d taken together, of each other, with each other, hanging on the walls. Fresh flowers in vases on every surface, perfectly picked from the garden in their front yard. A menorah for the holidays, but only on that looked like one she’d had when she was little.

Holidays they’d spend together, every year, just the two of them…and maybe two more of them. They’d be replicas of her image because he couldn’t create them with her. She would teach them Sokovian before English and how to pray in Hebrew. She’d teach them politeness and how to be courteous and kind-hearted, like she is. He’d homeschool them, teach them science and math and everything his internal database could supply, and Wanda would have to reel him in, remind him their only children and can’t understand aerodynamics. Not just yet.

Children of their own. She would be able to accomplish the impossible, creating the kids they’d love. He was sure she could do anything.

After all, she taught a synthetic being how to love.

Maybe this would all stay a dream, maybe they wouldn��t have the time they needed to get close to a life like that.

Yet he stared at one ring, a gold one with a white stone in the center and red stones on both sides of it. It was beautifully made and it just…embodied her soul.

———-

“Vizh? Are you alright?” Wanda asked as she stepped into their hotel room, walking over to the small kitchenette, setting the paper bags of produce and spices down on the counter. “You haven’t said a word since we got back…is something wrong?” She looked back at him with worry filled eyes and something stung in his chest as he realized he put that look on her face.

“Not at all.” He sat down on the bed they shared and held a hand out, inviting her to join him. As she sat beside him, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I bought you something in the market…I wanted to wait until we returned here to give it to you.” She tilted her head in curiosity and he pulled out a ring from his coat pocket. It was silver with a ring of vibrant blue stones around it. “I saw it and it reminded me of Pietro, the color of the trail his speed left behind. I thought it would be a nice reminder…i-if you don’t like it, you don’t have to worry, you don’t have to-“ Her finger to his lips cut him off and he looked over at her. Now he felt a hole in his chest, staring at her beautiful green eyes blurred with tears. “W-Wanda-“

“I love it, Vizh…” She smiled at him, leaning up to close the space between them, kissing his lips softly.

The gold ring he’d seen, he had purchased as well, and sat in his other pocket. For now, the silver one would do. Perhaps the gold one could wait for their next rendezvous…in Edinburgh, Scotland.

Tags: @irndad @animelover929 @saltymermaid @scarletwitchvision

#scarlet witch x vision #scarlet vision #wanda maximoff x vision #wanda x vision #my fic

[querubinne]

B1A4 fanfiction masterlist

19 fanfics (one-shot and chaptered) under the cut.

These are all my fics, some of they are from early years when my English wasn’t so good and my writing abilities were not the best, either. But there was no point on listing only the ones I liked.

I still write, and many of these exist because someone asked for them or sent a prompt, so feel free to do so, too.

One-shots:

And I think you’re adorable | Jinyoung x Sandeul - Magic AU | Links: Asianfanfics / Livejournal

Junghwan thinks he's not good enough for Jinyoung. He's going to do something about it. But Junghwan, Jinyoung thinks you're fine just the way you are...

The time we did it with the lights on | Baro x Sandeul - Rated M | Links: Asianfanfics / Livejournal

Junghwan is too self-conscious of his body, so he and his boyfriend  had never had sex with the lights on. There's always a first time for everything.

Now that I look at you | Jinyoung x Sandeul | Links: Asianfanfics / Livejournal

"To Jinyoung, Sandeul’s lips tasted like chocolate, and also like all the things he was hoping for them to taste like. And his kisses were playful and all fun, like he was giggling at the same time he was kissing him, like he was just that excited. It was just that awkward; just like Jinyoung imagined it would be."

Dessert | Shinwoo x Sandeul  | Links: Asianfanfics / Livejournal

Cupcakes, Shinwoo, Sandeul & belly rubs.

White Blossoms | Shinwoo x Gongchan - Flower Shop AU | Links: Asianfanfics / Livejournal

“He was just a florist, after all. Meant to make other people fall in love. But never himself.“

Bartender | Baro x Sandeul - Bar AU | Links: Asianfanfics / Livejournal

Baro's been a bartender for two years, his life is quiet and still just as he likes it. Things would've been just fine if his boss hadn't put those ads requiring a waiter on the windows

Everything you do drives me crazy | Jinyoung x Gongchan | Rated M | Links: Asianfanfics / Livejournal

“Or you stop being so damn attractive or I won’t take responsibility for my actions for now on” Jinyoung said, the habit of saying cheesy lines was something he couldn’t get rid of since he started writing so many love songs. Gongchan didn’t mind. “Your photos made me crazy, hyung” he admitted “Everything you do drives me crazy”

The tiniest beam of sunshine | Jinyoung x Shinwoo - Royalty AU | Links: Asianfanfics / Livejournal

"There was something about kissing under the moonlight that made everything even more magical, but they were barely noticing that, their minds were only with the other. A kiss developing gently on the lips of two boys brave enough to make things happen."

Heating | Jinyoung x Sandeul - College AU | Links: Asianfanfics / Livejournal

Jinyoung pushed him softly to the side and started pressing the button, not knowing what else to do. An idea flashed on his mind. “Junghwan, did you pay the bill?” “Hum... the bill?” “Yes, the bill” Jinyoung said patiently. Junghwan looked to the other side of the room, avoiding him “Was it my turn?” “Yes, Junghwan. It was your turn” “Hum”

Universal attraction and the motion that rules us | Jinyoung x Shinwoo - High School AU | Links: Asianfanfics / Livejournal

Jinyoung may be a genious when it comes to music, but he's certainly not the most clever guy out there when it comes to school itself. Lucky he has Shinwoo, who is smart and likes him enough to help him. The problem is that his attention drifts too easily, and he probably is misunderstanding things.

Chubby cheeks and itchy hands | Jinyoung x Sandeul | Links: Asianfanfics / Livejournal

Junghwan smiled a sad smile, but said nothing. Suddenly embarrassed of the intense glare his hyung was giving him. “And what if you're a little chubby? I think it's lovely” Jinyoung said, defiant. Like, I dare you to say otherwise. Junghwan snorted.

Stalker | Jinyoung x Gongchan - College AU | Links: Asianfanfics / Livejournal

Jinyoung noticed the freshman one day in the cafeteria. He thought that maybe he had seen him before, but this was the first time he had really seen him. He had puppy looking eyes and beautiful tanned skin and by the end of the day Jinyoung was positive he was following him around.

Play Pretend | Jinyoung x Shinwoo - High School AU | Links: Asianfanfics / Livejournal

He was going to decide what mattered from now on. He always put Jinyoung first, but not anymore. If only for a minute, Shinwoo had to think about his own feelings first.

Asthma | Jinyoung x Sandeul - College AU | Links: Asianfanfics / Livejournal

“Breathe deeply” he told him as he patted his back gently “You get hyperventilated too easily” “It’s because I ran” the youngest said smiling shyly. “Let’s walk slowly then” Jinyoung proposed “stop ignoring your breathing problems” “I don’t ignore them” Junghwan complained “It’s only that I don’t think about them” “Then do”

Chaptered:

Fuff Sprout Family | Jinyoung x Shinwoo - Family AU | Links: Asianfanfics

Who doesn’t love a good family AU?

Bonus.

Sprout High | Jinyoung x Gongchan / Baro x Sandeul - High School AU | Links: Asianfanfics

Jung Jinyoung, the boy that couldn’t stop thinking in a big pair of puppy eyes, took his hyung by the arm as soon as he find him sitting at his spot, studying even before classes started, like everyday since they started elementary school together.

“I think I’ve fallen in love” he said.

Shinwoo, who was already too used to those things, finished his math problem before looking at his friend.

“Who’s the girl this time?” he asked, sighing.

“Well… it’s a boy this time, actually.”

Oh, you’re the sweetest thing | Jinyoung x Sandeul - Rich kid AU | Links: Asianfanfics

Jinyoung lives in a mansion, he goes to a private school, he doesn't have any friends.

Except for Junghwan really.

Junghwan is the son of the cooker lady. And he's the sunshine of his days.

Of broomsticks and love stories | Shinwoo x Jinyoung / Baro x Sandeul - Hogwarts AU | Link: Asianfanfics

Years after the battle of Hogwarts the houses mix easly at meals but the rivalry is still there in Quidditch matters. Magic is the perfect atmosphere for young people to fall in love.

Christmas Tales | Jinyoung x Shinwoo / Baro x Sandeul | Link: AF tale #1 / AF tale #2 | Prompt based

#1: Falling (literally) in love (Shinyoung): “i live below you and i was minding my own business watching the snowfall out the window WHEN I SAW A BODY FALL ARE YOU REALLY PUTTING UP CHRISTMAS LIGHTS NOW”

#2: The biggest tiniest present (Badeul): “i did that annoying thing where i put loads of smaller boxes inside one big box and you’re getting really mad but you don’t know that the ring is in the smallest box and i can’t wait to see your face”

#b1a4 #b1a4 fanfics #b1a4 fanfic #jindeul #shinyoung #badeul #shinchan #jinchan #fanfic masterlist #baro #sandeul #gongchan #cnu #jinyoung

[lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love]

A Tale of English and Math (Masterlist)

Summary: You’re a math professor at a local university. The pay’s good, your students are great, and you’ve made friends with all the professors. Well, almost all of them. There’s just one person you can’t stand, and it’s Bucky Barnes from the English department.

Pairings: English Professor!Bucky x Math Professor!Reader

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven -> (coming soon)

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

...

Epilogue

Inspired by a post involving @aescapisms, @spiderrpcrker, @deaan-main, @og-maarrvveell, @maladaptive-ninja-returns, @midnightsunfae, @propertyofpoeandbucky, @simmisblog, @marvel-ous-hobbit, and @lozzypoz321 — click here

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#bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #sebastian stan x reader #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #a tale of english and math masterlist #marvel cinematic universe x reader #marvel cast x reader #avengers cast x reader #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #any trigger warnings will be mentioned in the chapters #au!marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #marvel cast fanfiction #avengers cast fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #winter soldier fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfiction #this story is an au #inspired #marvel #fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe