#actually cannot get this out of my head so hold on lemme put on

[fluffypotatey]

*smashes in like the Kool-Aid man*

PENDRAGON SIBLINGS YOU SAY????

I have. So many Feels. About Themst™

The complexity?? The layers?? The angst?? Hello??????

Their relationship is just So Much, because you are right, it's all tangled up in miscommunication and missed opportunities, and so many problems that can be sourced back to Uther "War Crimes" Pendragon, who wouldn't know a healthy relationship if it bit him on the ass.

If Merlin and Arthur are two sides of the same coin, then Arthur and Morgana are edges of the same blade.

Because it's the lonely childhoods, the shared grief, the friendship, the vulnerability, the fondness, the teasing, the envy, the jealousy, the almost romance, the protectiveness, the betrayal, the loss, the hurt, the refusal to let go and the desperate hanging on, and the love, the love, the love.

Indifference is the true opposite of love.

Hate is love that's gone rotten.

“If Merlin and Arthur are two sides of the same coin, then Arthur and Morgana are edges of the same blade.” oh fuck….

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK

WAIT HOLD ON WAIT LEMME PIGGYBACK ON THAT BESTIE @0hheytherebigbadwolf (tagging you bc it will be a couple days after you sent this ask)

(Also, for anyone wanting background context on what me and bestie are bouncing off on: voilà)

OK OK SO

we are all familiar with King Uther being the greatest (worst) dad of all time, correct? places such high expectations on his “only son and heir” whilst never officially acknowledging Morgana as his daughter until the very end?

F+ father of the year :)

he is not above sending his children into the dungeon if they disobey him as seen here:

(Jfc he even put Morgana in chains like wtf)

also, he is not above using emotional guilt towards them when he deems it necessary (aka one of the only times he actually acknowledges them as his children)

UTHER (1x02 Valiant) I trust you will make me proud.

UTHER (1x08 The Beginning of the End) I’ve treated you like a daughter. Is this how you repay me?

UTHER (1x12 To Kill the King) You are the daughter I never had.

UTHER (2x08 Sins of the Father) You would believe a sorcerer’s lies over the word of your father?

not to mention that when Arthur or Morgana try to reason with him or argue with him since they are the only ones with the status to do so, he pulls rank

UTHER (1x12 To Kill the King) May I remind you that you are speaking to your King [...] Take care, child, or I’ll have you restrained.

UTHER (2x08 Sins of the Father) I am your king and your father. You will show me some respect!

UTHER (2x06 Beauty and the Beast) We live in dangerous times, I cannot allow you to undermine my authority.

UTHER (3x10 Queen of Hearts) You have caused this to happen, Arthur. My decision is final.

ngl i could include more but i have already spent hours searching for shit (YOUTUBE WILL DIE BY MY HAND THAT STINGY BITC—) but y’all get what i mean: Uther is an abusive fucker and it has messed up the conditions of Arthur and Morgana

now, about the double edged blade…..

as previously established, Uther is a fucking dick and wants his children to obey him but also adore him. with this behavior, the Pendragon siblings react in two ways: with anger & contempt or submission and remorse

way #1

i’m gonna start with Morgana because anger is the easiest to pick out throughout the show. in the first episode of the first season, our introduction to Morgana’s character is her lecturing Uther about executing the man Merlin witnessed upon entering Camelot (such a warm welcome for Emrys, mh?)

MORGANA I just don't think chopping someone's head off is cause for a celebration. That poor mother. UTHER It was simple justice for what he'd done. MORGANA To whom? He practiced some magic, he didn't hurt anyone. UTHER You were not around twenty years ago, you have no idea what it was like. MORGANA How long are you going to keep punishing people for what happened then?

early on, it is easy to pick up on Morgana’s resentment and anger at Uther, who she believes is blinded by his fear of magic and his need for control (which she isn’t wrong about). also, we find that she isn’t one to back off when poking the bear (Uther). she does it constantly in seasons 1 & 2

MORGANA (1x03 Mark of Nimueh) Why would she kneel on a cold stone floor morning after morning when she could make these things happen with a snap of her fingers? Like an idle king!

MORGANA (1x08 The Beginning of the End) How can this child be your enemy? He's just a boy. UTHER He is a Druid. MORGANA Is that such a crime?…What have these people done to you? Why are you so full of hate?

UTHER (2x04 Lancelot and Guinevere) How many men would you have me sacrifice to save a servant? MORGANA  As many as it takes!

to be honest, i wouldn’t be surprised if screaming, arguing and berating Uther about his morals and ethics is her way of proving that she is not weak or submissive to his actions. i mean, Morgana grew up in a household the complete opposite from her time in Camelot. Gorlois, the man whom Morgana considers to be her father and one and only family member, was said to be “just” and “kind” and someone that Uther even considered a good friend who openly kept him in check. Morgana, until the age of ten, understood parental love and empathy unlike Arthur, who spent his whole life without any good or healthy substance of it.

the culture of Camelot and Uther’s wrath is not something Morgana was ever able to fully acclimate to as Uther himself pointed out in 1x12. She “was at odds with [him] since the beginning” and could never picture herself as a Pendragon (point further proven in 4x05: she looked revolted when Queen Annis compared her to Uther) because she didn’t share in their idea of magic = evil and a king = absolute control.

ironic in terms of future plot events, isn’t it :’)

way #2

compare that to Arthur: man’s respressed af. keeps all his emotions under lock and key if they are anything but haughty and serious. y’all, Arthur even says it himself how he “[can't] disagree with Father [Uther] in public.” whenever Arthur finds himself at odds with Uther, he holds his tongue and waits until he can disobey secretly (2x05 when he leaves to rescue Gwen, 1x08 when he helps Morgana sneak out Mordred in the dark of the night, 2x08 when he sneaks out to meet Morgause for more info about his mom, etc). it is only the rare moments when Arthur feels impassioned enough to speak up without fearing any retribution does Arthur talk back at him (so satisfying 👌)

ARTHUR (1x03 Mark of Nimueh) [Morgana’s] right, Father. You hear the word magic, you no longer listen.

ARTHUR (2x08 Sins of the Father) This is what fuels your hatred for those who practice magic. Rather than blame yourself for what you did, you blame them….You hunted her kind like animals! How many hundreds have you condemned to death to ease your guilt?!….You speak of honour and nobility! You're nothing but a hypocrite and a liar!

ARTHUR (3x10 Queen of Hearts) You can't forbid my feelings any more than I can. I won't deny them any longer, I love her. I love Guinevere.

we can even compare how the two react to Uther’s violence towards them

(ahahahahahaaaaa what a wonderful dad)

on the left, you see Arthur’s face right when Uther crushes the morteus flower needed to heal Merlin (his manservant/friend/????) and on the right, is Morgana after Uther discovers she was harboring a Druid child in her chambers and she refuses to listen to his reason.

notice how both faces are remarkably similar 👀

however, Arthur’s look of shock and dismay come from his hope that Uther would do the right thing. that he would help save Merlin’s life from dying of poison. that he wouldn’t use this as a method to teach Arthur “what it means to disobey and cross the king.” he truly did hope, just like he always does with the people he holds close. Arthur cannot help but hope and trust that those close to him will not betray him and yet so many do. hence the remorse

looking at Morgana, her shock comes from the fact that this might be the first time Uther reacted to her words and actions in a physical manner. my suspicion is that most of the time, all Morgana previously got was Uther reprimanding her and yelling at her to stop questioning his methods (bc, let’s be real, she was the favorite child.) never has he lifted a finder on her like Arthur and i have proof (cue transcript!)

AND! and, Arthur is constantly warning Morgana about not angering Uther any further because of the consequences she might face (consequences this boy is very familiar with) when Uther deems it necessary to “teach” his children obedience.

UTHER (1x04 The Poisoned Chalice) You have to learn there's a right and a wrong way of doing things. I'll see you're let out in a week. Then you can find yourself another servant.

UTHER (3x10 Queen of Hearts) You have caused this to happen, Arthur. My decision is final [...] This is for your own good. - UTHER She will die. The enchantment will be broken. You'll see I was right.

UTHER (2x08 Sins of the Father) I am protecting you from your own foolishness!

so educational 🥰 but see, because Uther presents his punishments as lessons, Arthur himself views them as just a fucked up but meaningful way of his father’s concern because “yeah, I am the first born son and only heir to the throne. of course I need to learn not to do silly things like disobey, talk back to him, be my own person.” <- I’m paraphrasing here

Arthur does and has never seen a way out of the life thrust upon him by Uther (see 3x06). succeeding Uther as king, marrying a noblewoman of high standing for heirs and alliance strength was always expected of him. Arthur never saw a way out of this. even when he and Gwen were in their secret relationship phase, Arthur had to remind himself that this would never last. he loved her and knew she loved him, but there was always that reminder (that sounded a lot like Uther) in the back of his head telling him that it would never last so long as he was prince. he had a duty (constructed by Uther) to serve Camelot and going against his father would mean (in his eyes) that he is going against Camelot (as Uther always presented it to be).

so unlike Morgana, he did not kick and scream but stood firm because that was what he believed was stronger. if he stayed in his lane and did his part, then he would be a good king, maybe even a better one than his father, for Camelot. however, the show proves that differentiating himself from Uther actually made him the better king and more respected, but this is not the meta for that. I am getting side tracked.

OK: so we’ve established parental issues between the two siblings. now onto their very complex, complicated yet beloved dynamic

sO, as i mentioned in this post (because i am lazy and too tired to copy/paste the evidence from there), these siblings do care for one another. they just go about it in the most hilarious and repressed and in-denial way (hilarious to me 😤)

when we meet them, it’s established that these two have known each other for some time. enough for them to bicker and have banter, you know, as you do with a Pendragon. also, should add, neither character are ever aware they are blood-related until s3 (because of some weak-ass bitch named Uther), so you have that very, uh, interesting subplot in s1 that everybody forgets about until you rewatch it. (honestly, I have so many questions. number 1: why???? number 2: it’s only in s1—was it scrapped??? is it like it never existed???? what was its purpose to the plot??? bbc explain yourself—)

however, despite how much it is shown that they do care for one another, they’re relationship in s1 is still undefined and vague as if they also don’t know how to accurately define what the other means to them. it’s very similar to the whole “i really love this person so much but is what i’m feeling platonic, familial, or romantic?” because….you know, guy and girl besties who are close are typically expected to grow romantic feelings for each other, so tbh i would not be surprised if both mistook their love as romantically inclined in the beginning bc, reminder, neither of them were aware they were siblings until much later.

[and this is ALL i am saying on this subplot. i do not want to cause any negative discourse, so if anyone has a few choice words about it, either keep it to yourself or feel free to talk about it with people you know. personally? not a fan of the ship and never will be, but i am not here to post about that.]

anyway, have some featured receipts showing Arthur and Morgana slipping up and showing how much they care for each other.

SEE!!!! LOOK AT HOW THE CARE!!!! SEE HOW THEY WORRY FOR THE OTHER AND WISH TO PROTECT THEM FROM HARM!!! (and see how even when they’re on opposite sides there is still that same love. just more warped and corrupted T^T)

^worried/protective Morgana

^Arthur’s face after Merlin informs him that there’s an intruder heading to Morgana’s chambers

Morgana is very aware of Arthur’s trusting nature. Arthur is very aware of Morgana’s empathy and righteous nature. they understand each other so well which is why Morgana knew just how to harm Arthur in later seasons and why Morgana’s betrayal hit Arthur so hard. it’s also why he never stopped trying to reach out to her in s4 & s5. as @merlinemrys said in this lovely post, the show’s driving force is love. love of all kinds. whatever conflict it is, love is there at the center of it all and, in Arthur and Morgana’s case, it does not save them (just like how love does not save Merlin or Arthur from what lies ahead, as the op of the post pointed out).

that is what makes their relationship/love be like a double edged sword!! that is why they are edges of the same blade!!! they protect and fight for what they believe in and for the people they love, but the same blades cut deep and twist their wounds into a lasting scar.

it is because of Arthur’s love for Morgana that he cannot help but hope and mourn the woman he once knew. it is because of Morgana’s love for Arthur that her feelings of hatred are so strong and ugly.

like honestly,

look at them T^T compared to before

their relationship is so tragic T^T because we knew them before it all went wrong. we knew they cared and understood each other. we knew that for some time, they only had each other to rely on for a friend, a crutch, a breather for when the royal life was too much. both of them were fighters and strive to honor their values. both of them had once leaned on the other for support, had wanted nothing but happiness for each other.

fuck, they didn’t even get the chance to really be siblings because they found out too late, and by then Morgana was on a war path and Arthur only found out at the last minute.

like fuck, man

two sides of the same blade: forged with love, yet used for blood

screencaps brought to you by me, @sourdough-morbread, and farfarawaysite

#i will spare you the gorey details of me trying to fine decent screencaps & screenshots for this fucking post or else i’ll get pissed again #(i am considering whether it is worth it to go to war with youtube) #special thanks to my bestie mor for being there for me at the gorey times and helping me find more screenshots #fucking love you bestie 💕💕💕💕 #also only including s1-2 bc i am tired and they are the ones where we get pendragon siblings not trying to kill each other #forgive me for always bringing up uther and the pendragon sibs’ upbringing with him it will happen again #also after hours of rereading transcripts and rewatching clips of bbc merlin: it is so obvious that uther cared and treated Morgana like hi #own child more than Arthur. like jfc he let’s her get away with so much stuff he is way for gentle with his words towards her #when he realizes that he was too cruel or rude like bro…..where tf was that for arthur #it just adds to the complicated sibling dynamic because there is the added jealousy and resentment of knowing a parent loved another more #literally most of Morgana’s time with Uther was her at odds with him and yet he views her as his child more #well no ducking dur that Arthur ‘i-would-do-anything-to-receive-my-father’s-love-attention-and-pride’ Pendragon resents Morgana for #always being the one Uther goes easier on and finds ways to turn a blind eye for like wtf #also during my research i was reminded of how done dirty Gwen’s story was by bbc #loses her father to a king fearful of magic barely gets to mourn him bc she now has to keep up the smithy and her maid job; reunites #with her brother who’s been AWOL for some years and still they don’t get a moment to talk about their dad and mourn TOGETHER #her storyline is pushed aside by s4 bc now she’s fulfilling the role of Arthur’s love interest and oh yeah they still need to incorporate #the lanceot/guinevere scandal and then banish her for some episodes without even letting her brother be mad about it like ????? #anyway #continued saga of fluffy rereading transcripts -> uther: ‘it’s been a long time since Ygraine…since anyone’ me: ducking liar >:( #[sir leon begins the slow clap] king you dropped this 👑IT IS 1AM HELP 😂 #place your bets on where my laziness for evidence came in! (I honestly don’t know lol scavenging evidence is all a blur) #spent 2 days on this post lol #me: ok i think that’s enough evidence for this argument…………ok maybe ONE more won’t hur— #me after day 2: ….am i done???? am i free???? #pendragon siblings coming behind me with a steel chair: nah mate! #me: FUCK THERE’S MORE #bbc merlin #merlin meta #pendragon sibs

[chimivx]

yellow. (1)

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader, and ot7 :)

summary: Two months out of college you've hit a dead end, until your best friend scores the job of her dreams unknowingly throwing you at the feet of your soulmate. Life is about choice, and the choice is yours to make... You just hope you're making the right ones.

words: 10.5k

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, bad relationship with parents, mentions of drinking, not too many bad things in this part, mentions of anxiety/mental health battles

a/n: HI! This is Part One?! of the ever so asked for Vegas series! I cannot believe this is actually being posted, I've been sitting on this for months. Thank you for all of the support, and the continued support, you all keep me inspired. Thank you for loving this couple as much as I do, they melt my heart.

~ July 16th 2015 ~

Laying across the end of your best friend's bed, half tangled in her comforter, you tilt your head side to side while you watch her struggle to put a simple outfit together for the new job she scored at the very last minute.  Spinning in front of her mirror, ankle deep in sweaters and t-shirts, she turned to you with a pout, unamused as you yawn in response.

“You’re not helping!” Sunny’s knees buckle as she groans.

“I’m tired!” You send back her tone, making her roll her eyes. Storming back to her closet, she whisked out a knee length black dress that was topped with long sleeves and a turtle neck.  Sunny stared at you, eyes wide as she shook the hanger around.  Lifting your head, you sit up halfway to your elbows and shake your head, your hair falling into a mess.

“Too wintery,” You say, pulling your hair back in a scrunchy you found amidst her sheets.  It had to have belonged to one of you, you’d both been sleeping in this bed for like two months now.  Sunny offered her apartment to you when you finished college so you’d partially have a space to yourself, and time to get yourself on your feet.  You and your ‘forced into getting’ business degree weren’t sure where you fell into life just yet, but thanks to Sunny who happily opened up hers, you were slowly finding your place… somewhere.

“You’re doing, what?  Their hair?  You don’t want to wear long sleeves, you’re gonna sweat, it’s mid-July,” You said. 

Sunny dug around her drawers some more, tossing scarves and headbands behind her before she triumphantly jumped to her feet with a dark blue fabric rolled up into a ball in her left hand.  Lips pressed together in a tight smile, your beautiful curvy best friend hurried to your side, her tight brown curls bouncing with glee on top of her head.  Standing at the end of her bed, nearly on top of you she grins, perfectly white, slightly crooked teeth on full display.  Admiring her beauty and how happy she looked for a second, you questioned what she was holding with a head nod.

“It’s perfect for a first day look,” Her voice is hushed, and it’s smooth as butter, the complete opposite of how she was just speaking to you.

“Lemme see!” You nod again, clapping your hands a few times to encourage her to reveal the miracle she’s discovered after gutting her closet for over an hour.  Releasing the hem, a maxi dress tumbled to the floor, soft, cottony fabric that was going to hug her hips perfectly.  Your jaw dropped slightly, remembering the night she wore this.

“Your first date with Marco,” You breathe, reaching out to give the dress a feel.  That night you helped her get ready, you being the one to talk her into buying the dress for the date with the dashingly handsome man she had met on a job one weekend.  

He was the epitome of a cookie cutter prince charming, but the sexy one from Princess and the Frog, he even had the light colored eyes.

Sunny sighs dreamily, glancing away into the unknown dramatically getting you to laugh.

“May God rest his soul,” She says, and you crinkle your brows.

“Sun, he’s not dead,” You say.

“No, he’s not, but his wife’s gonna suck the life out of him eventually,” Sunny snaps back to reality and hangs the dress on the back of her bedroom door while the two of you laugh.

“I’m honestly still mad about that,” You lay back down on the blankets, stretching your arms above your head.  Sunny sat herself down in front of her vanity where she began to put on her makeup, instantly getting you to sit back up like you hadn’t laid down in the first place.  You never missed a chance to watch her make faces to herself in the mirror that should only be reserved for late night rendezvous.

“Mad about what?” Tapping on moisturizer with two fingers, she seemed to have already forgotten what you’d just been talking about.

“Marrrco,” You roll the R, and she snickers, now applying strategic concealer to her already smooth, chocolate skin.

“He was a lost cause, all male stylists are,” Her voice grows quiet while she focuses, “They think with their dicks… and their mothers,” You cringe, and she nods, “Besides, he’s Italian and wanted five babies… I was not popping out five of his babies!” You grinned at her through the glass.  The utmost thing you admired about Sunny, her desire and drive to stay true to who she is, and who she wants to be.  You wished you had half of that drive, you let people push you around your whole life when it came to making decisions.

“…I don’t even know if I want ONE baby…” Sunny continued her rant as she moved onto foundation, carefully blending it out over her adorable apple cheeks and down her neck.  Glancing away from her for a second you tap your phone to check the time.  Ten o’clock on the dot.

“Did someone call me?” Sunny sat straight up once she saw your hand on a phone, then relaxed seeing it was yours, “Sorry,” She mumbled, “This job has me frazzled I think.”

“You think?” You giggle, Sunny rolling her eyes.  Even halfway through her makeup she was gorgeous, making you feel a little insecure sitting here in her bed in shorts and a t-shirt you used for pajamas with your unwashed hair pulled into a messy bun that almost never looked cute.  The no job, no love life, no place to live thing wasn’t exactly helping either.  People told you that it took time after college, getting your shit together and finally feeling like you were living, but always having a next, to suddenly having none was disheartening.  

Business wasn’t even your first choice, or your tenth.  Graphic Design had your heart by the reigns, and though your parents told you with a business degree you could find a job that had a little of both mixed together, you knew their goal for you was to be desk ridden for life, married by twenty five to a good, hardworking husband with two kids by thirty, and maybe a third on the way.  Much like Sunny, you weren’t even sure you wanted to pop out one.  At sixteen you thought for sure by twenty two you’d have something figured out, something done, at least a job that was approved by your elders… your sixteen year old self would not have predicted twenty two year old you to be living in your friends apartment, mooching off of her, and helping her get dressed for a job she had to leave for soon.  

“What’s your plan for today?” Sunny asks you, pulling you from your doom thinking.  Half motivated, you shrug your shoulders.

“Was hoping I’d hear from that company I met with on Friday,” You say.

“No, I’m sorry, no,” Sunny slaps down her eyeshadow brush and turns in her chair to face you, one eye halfway done.

“What?” You ask, smiling at the unfinished look.  Sunny shakes her head.

“I do not want you to work at Dunder. Fucking. Mifflin,” She exaggerates her words, tossing her head forward and back, curls going astray.

“It’s not Dun-”

“I know,” She shoots you a glare, “But it’s a paper company, and they interviewed you to be their receptionist… You have a degree!” She started speaking with her hands, meaning she meant what she was saying to her core, “If you’re going to work someplace, you need to be hired for a job you just worked your ass off for, for four years.” Glancing down at the blankets you were cuddled in, you take a deep breath.  The light pink checkered pattern on the sheets almost matched the blue one on your shorts.

“It’s a paying job,” You speak quietly, knowing she wasn’t going to take it.  Your best friend supported you, but she was stubborn.

“A paying job,” She deadpans, and holds for five whole seconds in which you laughed between, “What happened to the girl I knew in school?  Before she went to a university she didn’t want to go to?  The one who wanted to travel, and experience life? Where is she?” Sunny grilled you with her sharp, dark eyes, still half finished with shadow.  She was waiting for you to answer.  You simply shrug, again.

“Is she working at Dunder Mifflin?” She asks.  You shake your head.

“Is she having a good time with her best friend?” She asks.  You nod.  She smiles.

“Does she know her best friend wants her to be happy, and wants her to follow her own goddamn heart, and take what she wants instead of what somebody else wants for her?” Sunny’s voice raises slightly, getting you to sit up taller, her words igniting something small inside of you.

“You deserve happiness, and I know somehow you’re gonna get it,” She sighs, “How long did it take me to get a gig like this?  I’ve been doing bullshit jobs for years since I’ve been licensed, I should’ve broken out when I was eighteen, but no.”  You listen intently, your heart starting to swell with pride for her.  She had been busting her ass for years, for people who didn’t deserve it, and a boyfriend who was jack shit.  

It was Sunny’s dream to make it to Hollywood, or at least someplace as big.  The professional world was her goal, styling celebrities and people with big names.  It’d been three years of momentum that finally set her off, and now she was about to spend the day styling and looking after a K-Pop group that was currently on tour because they had fallen short of a stylist who had gotten sick.  Sunny sent a blessing to whoever it was, but thanked their weak immune system for finally giving her a job that was where she wanted to be.  She’d gotten the call a couple of nights prior, the two of you celebrating with a bottle of wine on her balcony in the warm summer weather, apologizing to the neighbors who complained when the sound of the two of you singing got too loud.

“I think business school took away the badass in me,” You offer weakly with a small laugh.  Sunny chuckles with a roll of her eyes.

“You’re naturally a badass,” She reassures you, “Nothing can take that away, it’s who you are." 

“Finish your face, would ya,” You give her a little wave with your fingers, and she smiles before spinning back toward her mirror, “Who’s this group you have to work for?” You ask, hoping to get the topic of conversation off of you.

“B…T…S,” Sunny hesitates as she concentrates on applying a lash, “BTS,” She repeats with more confidence, “They’re gorgeous, babe.” Her head rocks back, and she lets out a groan.

“I don’t know what they look like,” You say and Sunny’s eyes nearly pop out of her head.

“You’ll die, I know you will,” She speaks like she’s wrapping things up for the night, accepting your fate, “I wish I could smuggle you in with me, UGH!  I could get you laid!” Her head tilts curiously, “Though, I don’t think they do that…They seem respectful,” You watched the show she put on with a smile, it was nice to see her so excited, “Either way, I’ll sign a DNA in a heartbeat!” She starts to paint her other eye.  Scrunching your face up, you narrow your eyes at her.

“A DNA?” You question, “You mean an NDA?” Sunny pauses, thinks about what you’ve told her, then nods.

“Yes, that, NDA.”

“Sunita!” You gasp, “You’d sleep with a client?” 

“Not me, you, duh,” She resumes her artwork.  Playfully placing a hand to your chest you gasp even louder.

“Sunita, you’d sleep with me?”

“STOP!” She giggles, “You’d sleep with one of them!” 

“How many are there?” You question, raising an eyebrow.

“Seven.”

“Seven?!” Your eyes go wide.

“Mhm, plenty to choose from,” She smirks, popping her brows once. Glancing back down to your lap, you half listen as she tells you about their music, nodding along whenever it seemed appropriate. 

The other half of you that wasn’t listening was thinking about how your love life had gone nonexistent once you started at your university. Sure high school had its moments, the occasional fling, but nothing ever stuck. It was incredibly difficult to find a person who would put up with, or even mirror your sarcastic, witty self.  They’d grow tired of it, complain that you were too annoying, or straight up call you an asshole.

Starting at university you didn’t even bother to try, knowing how it would end before anything even started. That didn’t stop little hookups, but it did end the need and want of finding someone to be partners with, someone to share a life with. Growing up with your parents who showed little affection to one another, you weren’t under the impression you had spectacular role models for love.

“And Jimin? My lord,” Sunny closes her eyes, lifting a hand as if she’s in church on a Sunday morning. Tuning back into her chatter, you see she’s finished her makeup and has started on her hair, slicking the top down in a heavy left part, letting the natural curls fall down the back in a ponytail, though they wanted to stick straight out. Her stylist hands were magic, and once she was done her natural beauty was gently enhanced and she looked stunning.

“When are you going to get yourself ready?” She asks you, leaving her place at her bureau to start getting dressed. Flopping backward down on the duvet, you reach your hands over your head, something that sounded like a screech leaving your mouth as you feel the delicious stretch of your muscles once again. Part of you didn’t want to get up and get ready, you were perfectly content here in bed. You feel your phone vibrate beside you, one of your hands dropping to the sheets to search for it.

“I’ll get ready in a minute,” You mumble, preparing to hear her get stern with you. There’s a notification of an email from the paper company on your home screen. Nestling your eyebrows above your eyes, you unlock the screen and open the email up, your eyes scanning each line for the important parts only. Then, you see it.

“Oh, fuck,” You groan, tossing your phone aside. Sunny watches you from in front of her closet.

“What's up?” She asks. Sitting back up, you drag your hands over your face and shake your head.

“I got the job at fucking Dunder Mifflin,” You laugh after a heavy exhale, “What do I do?” Sunny, who’s underwear clad at the moment, drops her hands to her sides and shoots you a look.

“You did not just ask me that… What do you do?” She schools. 

“I do what I want,” You say in a monotonous tone, getting her to smile, “I do… What I want.”

“Damn right you do,” Sunny nods, muttering her words to herself, slipping into the blue dress she would be wearing for the job and the show.

When you interviewed with this company you told your parents about it, which was a huge mistake because your mother had been calling you daily since to see if you had gotten it. You were a couple of hours away from that phone call, dreading it completely, especially now that you had a decision to make. Either you were taking this job, living miserably with happy parents, or you were declining it politely, then making something up to your parents to somehow keep them happy.

Both ways still led to a phone call, something you never went out of your way to give them.

“Hey, you okay?” An unfamiliar voice called to you.  It was deep, and chilling, definitely catching your attention.  Popping your head off your knees you look down the sidewalk to your left where the mystery man had spoken from, and it was imminent at first glance that you weren’t in any immediate danger.  

The guy could’ve been about six feet tall, if you had to guess, with a tiny frame hidden underneath a black long sleeved shirt and dark jeans.  There was bleach blonde hair peeking out from underneath the black beanie he had pulled over his head, and little black hoops hanging from his ears.  He seemed to be around your age, you hoped, for no other reason than to simply feel safe around someone of the male gender while you moped on the side of a quiet street.

“Uh,” You mumble as he takes another step, taking his time getting closer to you, as if one would implode at random.  He was rolling a water bottle between his hands, he must’ve been the person you saw hurry by to go into the store moments earlier, “Yeah, I’m okay,” Your tone is short, and stiff, not in anyway inviting him to come sit down beside you like some guys might think it was, but this one stops.  The plastic bottle in his hand pops, an indication that he was holding onto it way too tight, making him glance down to it and grab it by the cap.  Looking back up to you, he clears his throat and nods once before his lips spew out jumbles of words that sounded much, much clearer in his mind.

“I just… I heard… You were on the store- I mean! …phone, I went into the store, damn,” He creased his brows, closing his eyes, and you can’t help but smile.  The hard exterior wasn’t quite matching up with what was coming out of it.  Taking a breath, he opens his eyes and gestures toward the phone in your hand with his water bottle.

“It didn’t sound too good when I walked by,” He says, “I’m not being a creep, I could hear the other person yelling, figured it wasn’t good… Are you sure you’re okay?” Taking two more steps closer to you, he plants himself six feet away from you.  Close enough for you to finally see his eyes underneath his hair that was pushed forward, and they were beautiful.  His gentle feline features and smooth, delicate skin took you aback.  You hadn’t seen pure beauty like this in… well, ever.  His jumble worded-ness must’ve been contagious because you’ve caught it now.

“Oh, yeah, hah,” A nervous laugh escapes you, “My parents, you know, I had this, like, this interview with- at… at a company,” You became hyperaware of how sweaty your hands had become, holding onto your phone for dear life, begging it to not slip out of your hands now, “I’m s’posed to take it, and my parents, well, they want me to take it, and if I don’t take it, uh, they’ll… hate me? I-I think,” You’ve completely averted your eyes from his, babbling out toward the street now, missing out on how his gaze knew all too well what you were feeling.  Despite your struggle to form sentences, he listened closely.  Copying him from earlier, you take a deep breath, turning your chin to look up at him.

“You heard the phone call where I told them I didn’t get the job,” You say calmly, plastering a sarcastic happy smile to your lips that made him laugh.  A sound so soft, yet somewhat enough to erupt butterflies in your stomach.

“Sorry to hear that,” He bobs his head, rolling his water bottle again.

“Oh, no,” You say, and he pauses, raising an eyebrow in question, “I got the job.” Silence surrounds you both for a second as he catches up to what you were implying, and once he does a smug grin appears on his face.  He takes two more steps closer.

“So you aren’t lying, you really are okay?” He asks, and you nod, making him make that wonderful sound again.

“Just a girl lying to her parents who want her to be something she is not,” You shrug after you sigh, glancing at your hands for a second.

“You’re making it really hard for me to walk away,” He takes your attention back, pleased with how quickly you looked towards him at the sound of his voice.  Checking the time on your phone, you still had a half hour before Sunny would be looking for you. Taking back in the sight of the mystery man who couldn’t seem to look anywhere except at you, something makes you tap the concrete next to you, inviting him to do the thing you at first didn’t want him to do.  He copies you and checks the time on his Samsung from his pocket.

“I don’t mean to bother you,” He starts, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

“If anything I’m bothering you,” You mutter as he closes the gap and sits down about a foot away from you.  He smells expensive.  A light, woodsy mix of lavender floods your senses.

“I would’ve walked away minutes ago if I didn’t think your story was interesting, please, keep going,” With him this close to you now you could take in every detail.  His skin wasn’t perfect, but it was smooth as silk.  The dark, cat-like eyes he was blessed with were designed to be his shield, something easy to hide behind, but it felt as if you could see straight through them, and as beautiful as they were, they were tired.  

He carried this thick, heavy wall around him, visible in his attire.  He was hiding, whether it be from one person or the entire world, this was a guy who didn’t like to let people in, so it was humorous he’d want to keep talking.

“Okay then,” You sigh, tearing your eyes away from his, “Where was I?”

“A girl lying to her parents who want her to be someone she isn’t,” He reminds you, quite happily at that.  Scoffing, you throw your head back dramatically and groan.

“I just… I never wanted to do what they wanted me to do,” Your tone has fallen quiet, “Ever since I was a kid, we all wanted two different things.”

At age five you wanted to play soccer.  Instead you were stuck in ballet class pulling the bows out of your hair that were tied too tight.  You put up with it for five more years until you chose to play an instrument.  At age ten you wanted to play the drums.  Instead you were forced into piano lessons three days a week with an annual recital that you endured for a total of three years.  If you looked at a piano today the only thing you’d be able to play is Hot Cross Buns, so those three years really meant nothing.  At age fourteen you fell in love with design, and all things digital.  

Your high school offered programs for graphic and website design that you signed up for the same day your freshman schedule came in, but when it came time to mail it in you found your mother had erased everything you had written.  At your dining room table with your mother and father, you rewrote the form, filling it in with classes that would help you excel in aspects of life that were ‘viable for your future’.  Without an ounce of compassion for what you might want to do with your life, or an ounce of remorse for crossing you, your mother kissed you on the forehead and mailed in the schedule.

“Please tell me you got to take some of those classes?” The guy asks, taking a swig of his water, nearly choking on it as you shake your head, “Are you kidding me?!” 

“I know,” You halfheartedly laugh, “But… I did still get to… take the classes…” He caps his water and places it on the ground between you, lowering his chin in suspicion.  You wiggle your brows, and he laughs.

“I feel like I could’ve guessed that,” He shakes his head, and you gasp.

“No! I’m not predictable,” You say, mouth ajar.  He sucks air in through his teeth, gazing out into the street as he shakes his head with squinted eyes.

“I hate to say this,” He teases you with his tone, “You’re predictable.” 

“No!” You shout, stomping your feet on the ground in front of you, “No one has ever been able to figure me out.” 

“Oh, really!  So, you’re, what?  Every rebellious teenage character from a nineties movie?” He paints a dumbfounded look on his porcelain skin to make you laugh aloud.  You reach out a hand and shove his shoulder, pushing him away playfully.

“You know, you are one to talk,” You say, “You look like you’re cold as ice, but that’s not so true is it?” Your words wipe away his smile, making you almost regret saying them, “I mean, not in a bad way… I didn’t mean it like that, you look good, really good…” His smile starts to come back.

“What’s your name?” He asks, and you tell him.  Only your first name, though, he was still a complete stranger.  He smiles when he hears it, a small, content smile, and when you ask for his he hesitates for a couple seconds before giving you what you want to hear.

“D,” Is all he says.  You pop a brow.

“D?” You ask, and he nods, “Like, the letter? Or like… D, E, E?”

“Like the letter,” He nods again.

“What’s it stand for?” You ask curiously, wondering if this was when his shell would start to crack.  He ponders your question, eyes going wide as he looks around for an answer, but then his attention is stolen by a vibrating from his pocket.  Sitting up straight, he pulls out an iPhone and groans as he reads the screen that wasn’t visible to you.  Scrunching your nose, you look down to his pockets and in the back of his jeans you see the Samsung he had checked before.

“Two phones?” You question, “One for the plug and one for the hoes?” You prayed to any God somewhere that he would laugh, and he did.  Sighing internally with relief, you waited patiently for him to look back at you.

“Honestly, kind of,” He admits with a chuckle, shoving his phone back in his jeans.  Your stomach does a little flip in disappointment, but you weren’t aware your face would falter just the same.

“Oh, no!” D holds up his hands in defense, shaking his head, “Not literally! Shit…” He taps each phone as he tells you what they’re for, “Samsung? Work, and work.  iPhone?  Friends, family and everything else.” 

“Oh,” You huff, feeling silly.

“Yeah,” D says with a small smile.  Mustering up your confidence once more, you knew you would parting ways with this man soon, and have to admit these past fifteen minutes have been the most enjoyable fifteen minutes you’ve had in almost a month.  His friends, family and everything else phone was blowing up, so you knew he’d be rushing away at any second.

“I have a question,” You say as he swipes through his screen.

“Yeah?” He asks, glancing up at you a couple of times like you’d suddenly changed appearances or something.  It seemed like he didn’t want to miss anything.

“Think I can score a place in the friends, family and everything else category?  It’s nice talking to you,” You say politely in hopes to secure your spot.  D starts to smile, but it fades before it can even manifest.  Your stomach flips again, cartwheels this time.  You were about to get rejected.

“Never mind,” You blurt out nervously, “That was stupid, I guess, we don’t know each other…” You turn your head away from him, begging him with your subconscious to get up and leave so you don't have to be the one to awkwardly say goodbye.

“Look…” His tone is quiet, “I would, and I want to, but I quite literally can’t.”

“Oh god,” You mutter, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, “Don’t make up excuses, I can handle rejection, D.” A forced laugh comes out of you.  Parting his lips to speak, his eyes shift over your entire being and everything in between.

“At least you can… I already said it, you’re making it really, really hard for me to walk away,” He was borderline whispering with how gently he was speaking.  You look at him, meeting his unique eyes that were now full of uncertainty.

“What are you, some kind of drug lord or something?” You dig slightly, narrowing your eyes.

“No,” He laughs, “Something far more dangerous.”

“More dangerous than being in a gang?” You laugh to yourself.  D smiles, then checks on his phone that was now ringing.

“Hang on, sorry,” He mumbles, then an anxious voice could be heard on the other end, “What’s up?” His voice turns deeper, more serious, “I just stepped out, that’s all… No, no, I’m fine real- J-Joon, shit, let me speak!” You watched him while he spoke, how eloquently he moved his lips and how focused he became when the other person would speak, “We have plenty of time… I think I know how to do this by now,” He glances at you and rolls his eyes, making you smile, “I get it, I get it.  I’ll head back now, fuck, man, relax.  Yeah, bye,” Locking his phone, he released an exasperated breath and blew a raspberry on his lips.

“Was nice talking to you, D,” You say sweetly, giving him the smallest of smirks, “Thank you, again.” D sits forward, leaning against his knees.  He has his eyes locked on yours, and for a couple seconds he didn’t move.

“Yeah,” He lets out another sigh, and glances away before standing up, “Anytime,” He says quickly, knowing there wasn’t going to be another time, that this was in fact the only time to either of your dismay.  He returns the small smile, and after catching on that you weren’t going to stand up as well, he gives you half a bow, takes another deep look into your eyes, then hurries down to the corner of the street where he pulls open the door of a van that had been sitting there the entire time.

Watching the van drive off, you furrow your eyebrows.  Strange for someone who doesn’t do anything suspicious for a living, to get into the back of a blacked out SUV with a driver who was dressed in all black, wearing sunglasses.  Maybe he actually was a part of the mafia or something and he totally helped you dodge a bullet by turning you down.  He sat here and listened to your sad life story and decided he wouldn’t give you another reason to feel so down about yourself.  

Believing that was nicer than feeling the disappointment of him walking away.  Not many guys carried themselves like him.  There wasn’t any mansplaining, there wasn’t any complaining, there wasn’t any bragging about himself.  Instead there was, well, barely anything.  You had to admit it was a pretty good tactic to get people to fall pretty easily, because something about him just sucked you in.  Whatever he did, and whoever he was, he must’ve had a trillion women after him if that was how he always acted.

Taking a deep breath, you pull your eyes away from the road and focus back on your phone, how you started here almost a half hour ago.  As if on cue, Sunny’s name pops up on your screen, big, bright, and yellow.

“‘Ello Sunshine,” You goof, but she wasn’t in the mood to goof.

“There would be an emergency like this on the one day I work for them,” Her voice is hushed, you could hear what sounded like fifty other voices in the background.

“Emergen… Sun, what? Are you okay?” Sitting up straight, you’re ready to jump to your feet.

“I’m fiiiine, it’s just, one of the members went missing, that’s all,” She whines, “I finished up with Jimin, and when I went to grab Suga, he was gone.” You squint your eyes, trying to familiarize yourself with their names for her sake.

“Are they going to try to find him?” You ask.  Sunny hums for a moment.

“I think Namjoon called him, I see him coming in the room now, hang on-“ Her line is muffled, but you can still make out what they’re saying.

“Hi!” Sunny chirped happily, and you can only picture the tooth rottingly sweet smile she pulled.

“Hi, uh, sorry, I called him,” You assumed this was Namjoon speaking, “He tells me he only stepped out for a little bit, and that he’s on his way back now, I’m really sorry.  Suga likes to do this, it’s not the first time we’ve lost him.” 

“Oh, it’s alright,” Sunny says, “Thank you so much, I appreciate you for this.”

“JOON!” Is called out from somewhere in the back, and it makes you glance to your left where D had just been sitting.  Moments ago he received a phone call asking his whereabouts, and he assured the person he had only stepped out for a second and that he would be heading back soon.  The person he called, Joon.

“Sunny,” You say flatly as you wait for her to put the phone back to her ear, “Sunny… Sunny… Sunny…”

“Jimin! You’re too cute,” She had her flirty tone on today.

“Sunny… Sunny… Sunny… Sun-“

“Hi, I’m sor-“

“SUN!” You shout, your voice echoing off the walls of the street, “Do me a favor?”

“Uh, sure, uh, what?!” Her flirty tone was gone, and now in it’s place, panic, “Are you okay?”

“Describe this Suga,” You say, “Please.”  Sunny waits a couple seconds in case you had anything else to add, then her description tips you over the edge, pinning everything down to the tiny detail of the thin little bracelet on his wrist.  She described D.

“Funny,” You giggle, stretching your legs out in front of you.  Your heart rate rose thinking about how close he still was.

“I’m confused,” Sunny says, “Oh, he’s here!  I need to go.”

“Tell, Suga, I said hi,” You smile, then hang up the phone, leaving her confused and wondering if she really should.

Sunny hurries back to her chair where Yoongi planted himself and slouched down after being berated by his brothers.  Mainly Namjoon, who had plenty to say about his disappearance as his makeup was being applied.

“We need to be ready in twenty minutes,” Was said as soon as Yoongi opened the dressing room door, “This is like the sixth time this tour you’ve run off.  You want to leave us or something?” Though he was younger, Namjoon was the leader of the group, and essentially the glue that held them together.  If someone hadn’t a clue who they were they’d probably think Namjoon was the eldest, when really the eldest was the one who scurried up beside Yoongi, pulled a chair over to sit close to him, and started to whisper with him like two high schoolers with a secret.

“He wants to leave us?” Young Jungkook asks Namjoon quietly from the couches along the wall where he was wedged between Taehyung and Jimin who were in the middle of a fistfight.  

Namjoon glances in their direction, sighs slightly, then shakes his head and says, “He’s not leaving us, JK.”

“Jaaay-Kaaaay,” Hoseok bellows from the opposite side of the room as he slipped his outfit for the show on, making the youngest’s smile grow from pursed lips into a full set of impossibly perfect pearly whites.  It was so big his eyes crinkled in the corners and everything.

Sunny acknowledges the rapport amongst the boys, a soft smile gracing her lips once she spies Jungkook’s.  She’d only been in this room for a short amount of time, but it’s been enough to be able to tell that they care about each other immensely.  Somebody was always sticking up for Jungkook who seemed to be the quiet one, somebody was always showing their appreciation for Namjoon, and somebody was always giving a compliment out like they were keeping score or something.

Standing behind Yoongi, she politely interrupts his gossip with Jin, apologizing twice as she does.  Jin simply smiles, the only thing he’s been able to give her since she walked in the room, he was so starstruck by her beauty.  Going over everything she was going to do with the boy who looked back at her with hollow eyes, she recognized she wasn’t going to get much of a response and let him continue his whispers with Jin.  Whispers that she could now hear.

“You actually drove away this time, though,” Jin says, leaning closer over the arm of his chair that was nearly on two legs.  Yoongi, who was watching Sunny work, shrugs gently so he wouldn’t disturb her.

“I get anxious in these rooms,” He mumbles, “Can’t stand it.”

“I know you do,” Jin frowns, “Did you get out of the car?”

“Yup.”

Jin’s mouth falls agape, “And did you get absolutely mobbed?” 

“Do I look like I got absolutely mobbed?” Yoongi shoots him a side eye, sending his brother into a fit of giggles that triggers Sunny to giggle, instantly shying Jin.  He gives her that silly grin again.

“There was barely anyone there,” Yoongi moves along with Sunny, tilting his head wherever her hands directed him.

“Ah,” Jin nodded once, “But there WAS somebody.”

“Yeah, and she wasn’t a fan,” Yoongi’s volume dropped even more, and he tapped Jin’s arm to remind him to turn his down as well.

“She was a hater?” Jin twisted his face, and scrunched his brows.  Yoongi sighs, rolling his eyes.

“No, Jin.  She had no idea who I was,” He says.  Sunny’s ears perked up.

“Whoa.”

“I know,” Yoongi whispers, looking straight ahead when asked to, finally giving Sunny the smallest of smiles, the corners of his lips pricking up, “She was really cool.”

“You talked to her?” Jin’s arms now rested on the handles of Yoongi’s, seeming surprised that his brother would voluntarily succumb himself to interaction with another human being outside of the very small, but seemingly big world they lived and worked in.

“She wouldn’t have seen me if I didn’t say anything,” Yoongi exhales in a laugh, “She was arguing on the phone with… somebody.  I wanted to make sure she was okay.” Sunny lifts her eyes to the mirror in front of her and catches Yoongi staring at his hands that were folded his lap.  Arguing over the phone meant you had called your parents, or they had called you.  Sunny knew you were hard headed, but you weren’t argumentative.

“Was she?” Jin asks, “Was she okay?”

“I think so,” Yoongi answers confidently, “She seems like somebody who can hold their own when the odds are against them.” Sunny smirks, catching Jin’s eye.

“How long did you talk to her?” He raises an eyebrow, focusing back on his friend instead of Sunny, whom he could admire for hours.

“Like, fifteen minutes,” Yoongi says swiftly, and Jin laughs aloud, just once, loud enough to grab Jimin’s attention away from Taehyung who was teasing him about who knows what.

“Do you know her name?” Jin’s eyes grow wide, as does his smile, and when Yoongi says your name Sunny just about drops her comb to the floor.  It stutters momentarily between her fingers causing her to jump as she catches it, both of the boys looking up at her curiously.

“You okay?” Yoongi’s voice is soft toward her.  Nodding, Sunny smiles, brushing away her shock.

“I’m great, sorry about that,” She takes a short breath thinking she was done speaking, “Actually,” But she was a Leo and incapable of keeping her mouth shut, “The girl that you spoke to?” Yoongi adjusted in his seat, suddenly sitting up a bit taller.

“Yeah?” He says with a gentle sigh, preparing to hang onto every word he may hear about you.

“She… says hi,” A little laugh escapes her.  Slowly, Yoongi’s brows knit together.  He was unsure what Sunny meant, or wondered if she was playing a cruel joke on him, not that she knew what you meant to him in this moment.

“Uh, what?” Jin finally speaks to her.  Sunny smiles sheepishly, her shoulders beginning to eat her ears.

“I was just on the phone with her, she’s my best friend,” She says.  Yoongi’s heart starts to beat faster, a confidence fueled tornado starts to stir in the deepest pit of his stomach.  Sunny goes on to explain a bit more without exposing too many personal details, but does add that she assumes you talked to him about your parents, and he confirms with a tiny head bob.

“What are the chances,” Jin shakes his head and slumps backward in his chair in slight shock.  Yoongi’s lips are slightly parted as he listens to Sunny talk about you, laughing with her like he knew you both when she mentioned the Dunder Mifflin joke she pulled earlier.  He’s hanging onto every word, allowing them to swallow him whole, feeling brand new with this second chance he was given.  Then, Sunny tells him you’re coming to the show, and the confidence fueled fire is snuffed out in an instant.

“Tonight?” He asks, tone back to being just above a whisper.

“Yes, she’s meeting me here as soon as I’m finished.  I figured she wouldn’t be allowed back here,” Sunny resumes her work on his hair, finalizing the details, adding on the finishing touches before securing them with hairspray.  Standing in front of him now, she pauses when his hand reaches up to take her wrist, and looking down at him she’s met with big, borderline puppy dog eyes.  They share a second of silence, Sunny unsure of what to do.

“Bring her back here after the show,” Yoongi whispers, “Please.”

The hallways were busy, people were bustling by without a care as to where you and Sunny were headed. Holding onto her hand tight, you were looking all over, taking in faces, taking in the atmosphere that seemed chaotic yet incredibly intriguing. Every person backstage was dressed in black and had wires connected to headsets they were wearing that attached to these walkie-talkie looking things on their belts. These men and women were zoned in on their work, and looked happy to do it.

Stopping at a brown metal door with chips in the paint, Sunny pulled her ID from her little purple crossfit bag that hung at her hip and showed it to the security member who eyed you both curiously.

“She’s with me,” Sunny held up your hands. The security guard whose name tag read, Branson, glanced at you, then back to Sunny before pulling the door open. It made a creak as it opened, and led you to a long white hallway that looked like it belonged in a hospital.  The lights appeared to be dimmed, but you figured that was because this venue was on the older side. Even the walls were scuffed up and written on, bringing you into the place's history and life.

This hallway was quieter with less people to push by. The big equipment was gone, the rolling black boxes on wheels no longer needed to be dodged.

Squeezing Sunny’s hand tighter, you feel your stomach flip with a nervousness. She glances back to you with a small smile, reassuring you without even having to say a word. The two of you take a left, continuing your trekking through the maze that was this concert venue. 

“Sun, maybe I shouldn’t,” You say quietly to her, making her stop her feet. You bumped into her back with a giggle.

Her deep brown eyes glared at you, half laced with worry before her comforting tone asked you, “Why? What do you have to lose?” 

“I don’t… I don’t know… Nothing?” You stutter in hopes to give her the right answer. A stagehand pushes by having you and Sunny step over to hug the cinderblock wall. She puts her hands on your shoulders and sighs.

“Do this for you,” She says, her expression softening, “You wanted his number hours ago, and now what? What happened between then and now?” Glancing at your shoes, you admit to yourself that she was right. Sunny was always, fucking always, right.

“He was a regular person before,” You look back up at her, shrugging, “Now he has screaming fans. He didn’t seem like…” Your voice hushes, your conscience not wanting to finish the sentence. Sunny frowns.

“Seem like what?” She asks. Your eyes follow the back of another stagehand who walks by you two, peeking over their shoulders themselves at you. They get further down the hall, pushing open a door to a dressing room that let excited voices bleed out into the hall. You suck in a deep breath.

“He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would do this, or have… groupies,” You let out a pathetic laugh at the use of the word, “You made jokes earlier about this, but if that’s what’s happening here, I don’t think I want it. He seemed so normal, and nice, and perfect, and… different. We were laughing, Sunny. Like, you and I, laughter. He thought I was funny.”

Sunny smiles as you babble on and reached down to grab your hand again.

“Come on,” She encourages, “You don’t need to be a groupie, just come say hi.”

Following the curly ponytail down the rest of the hall, you come to another stop in front of the door that stagehand disappeared into moments ago. With your heart thudding away in your chest, you take subtle deep breaths to calm down, hoping Sunny wouldn’t notice, she did, and watch as she knocks a couple of times on the metal that has a decrepit number three scrawled on it. Even with the door shut you can hear the heightened voices and the shouting coming from inside, like everybody was coming down from a high because of the show… It sounded like fun.

“Come in!” Is shouted from somewhere inside, a voice that was unrecognizable to you. Sunny peeks at you with her cheeky smirk, as she reaches for the doorknob and pushes it open.

Some more dim light leaks into the hall as the thrill in the voices gets louder, wrapping around you, the sounds themselves pulling you into the room. It was like your feet had a mind of their own behind Sunny, the energy that poured over the threshold of the concrete floor sucked you straight inside. 

There were two leather couches, one of them with three boys piled on top of one another laughing at something that had been said before the door was opened. Their heads were pointing toward a tall, broad shouldered man behind them who watched them with the most beautiful smile, his eyes alight with pride as he gazed down at his friends.

On the couch opposite the pile up, there was a boy with black hair, the only one with that shade, with his feet kicked up on the cushions beside him, his ankles crossed as he laughed with the others. They were all still dressed in the last outfit they had on from their performance, though a couple of them had shed the top layer. You couldn’t imagine how hot they had to have been wearing the clothes they had to wear while they danced.

“Sunny!” One of the boys on the couch shouts as he catches a glimpse of who walked in the door, the boy wedged between the other two who were much larger than him.

In the corner, behind the couches, Jin and Yoongi were sitting in the folding chairs they used to get ready, chatting with themselves about the show, and other things, along with the stagehand who had walked into the room a few moments prior. At the shout of Sunny’s name, Yoongi feels his entire nervous system jolt. Uncrossing his leg, he quickly jumps to the edge of his chair, glancing around the stagehand stealthily to see if Sunny had brought anything with her, for him.

Jin holds back a smile as he watches his brother, the conversation they were having had ended abruptly. It was meaningless scrambles anyway, Yoongi couldn’t seem to piece any words together while acting like he wasn’t anxious to see you again.

“Hi, Jimin,” Sunny sings, and everyone could hear the smile on her lips. Your eyes darted like mad over every face in the room, the four on the couches and the one standing behind it, seeking out one of familiarity. The boys all look at you and greet you with grins, the three that were messing around got themselves in order fast.

Sunny introduces you to them all by announcing you to the room, in true grand Sunny fashion, like you were the Queen of England, or a person of importance, which made you feel even sillier than you had felt walking down the hallway.

A boy on the couch, the one with chestnut colored hair stood up after he pushed Jimin off of him, and he walked up to you holding out his hand. Wanting to shy behind Sunny’s back, you feel your cheeks heat up as you take his hand and shake it, silently thanking the old venue for the dim lighting.

“I’m V,” He gives you a small smile before he bows his head, “Did you enjoy the show?” Letting go of your hand, he takes a step backward, holding his arms out to the side as if he was gesturing at himself. You can’t help but let out a little laugh, V’s aim of the game.

“I loved it,” You nod once, biting onto your bottom lip to cool your smile off. Sunny was right, again, they were all gorgeous, it was hard not to blush.

One by one they all introduce themselves, Namjoon taking the time out to give you a long handshake and a speech full of absolute gratitude that you were able to attend the show, and then he did the exact same to Sunny, sending his thanks to immense volumes because of what she had done for them tonight.

“We cannot thank you enough, seriously,” Namjoon patted the top of her hand he was holding with his other, and Jimin giggled behind him.

“You’ve said thank you twenty times, Joon!” The red head taunts, getting a glare from the older over his shoulder.

“You know what,” Namjoon starts, but is cut off by a hand grabbing his shoulder, one with slender, knobby fingers that you could probably trace every bone of. The veins that protruded off the back of the hand went right up an arm that led you to a face you were hoping to see. Meeting his eyes, you can’t help but smile.

“Hey,” You say so quietly you aren’t sure if anyone even picked it up. D’s smile grows, just like yours until you’re both at the point where you're laughing at yourselves. Dropping his hand to his side, he messes with his shirt and gives you a once over as you do the same to him, taking in his post show appearance.

“Words,” Jin, who now moved to the couch beside Hoseok, says aloud for everyone to hear, and your cheeks flush. Someone close to him berates him, shutting him up, making the whole room fall into a chatter, but you don’t see a thing.

The D you met on the curb was standing right in front of you, in his own dressing room after performing for hours, and you couldn’t wrap your head around it. There were hundreds of people in that room screaming his name, the name of the stranger you had told the story of your parents, something you didn’t do with anyone voluntarily. Looking him up and down entirely, twice, you laugh again, looking up into his eyes.

“Are we safe here?” You ask, squinting your eyes. D’s widen as his smile falters.

“What?” He half asks before cracking a laugh, “Oh, god,” He cheeses, scrunching his face. There’s a disruptive roar beside you both, threatening to steal your attention. “Can we go out there?” He gestures to the door, both of you ignoring the snickering behind you as you leave the nuts behind. Both of you sigh with relief as the door shuts and you’re left with still air. 

It’s quiet for a moment as you watch each other before you bring the joke back up, “This is more dangerous than running drugs?” You smirk, and he laughs louder than he did inside, as if you were back on the curb. Glancing to his feet, he shakes his head before looking at you intently.

“You know… some days? It is,” D cocks his head to the side. Nodding, you bring your hands in front of you to fidget with the hair tie on your wrist, D’s eyes flickering down to it for a second.

“It was a great show, I had a lot of fun,” You say, “You’re pretty good at what you do, D.”

“D,” He repeats with a dramatic sigh, laughing at himself. You narrow your eyes.

“How many names do you have?” You ask, wanting to smile amongst the curiosity, but it just teases the corners of your lips.

“Uh, two,” He answers, “Suga,” He says with an obviousness, glancing to the dressing room door, “That’s a stage name.” This one you heard this afternoon, from Sunny herself.

“What about your real name?” Your volume had lowered within these couple of minutes, as did D’s. When you ask that question, he glances down at your fingers that were now twisting the hair tie around. Your eyes don’t leave his as he picks up a hand and gently puts it underneath the hand with the fingers doing the twisting.

His hand is cool to the touch, sending a chill up into your shoulder. Your breath is caught short in your throat, and you’re sure that your eyes have given away your shock. Letting your hand, that was much smaller than his, slip into his grasp while you're breathing shifts into manual, you swallow hard and definitely know your cheeks have gone pink this time.

“Yoongi,” He says softly, looking back into your eyes, smiling, “Min Yoongi.” The sound of his actual name warms your heart.

“See, now you’re like a real person,” You say.

“Was I not a real person before?” Yoongi furrows his brows, smirking curiously.

“Course you were,” You shrug, then roll your eyes, “That’s all you were, D, shit, Yoongi, sorry,” Closing your eyes tight for a moment, both of you laugh at your fumble, “Where did D come from?” You ask him after a breath. Yoongi starts to nod slowly, his eyes diverting from yours as he ponders his response.

“Little project, thing, or whatever,” He says at the same time as he exhales, “And, I guess it was a safety, you know?” 

“Yeah,” You say, completely understanding where he was coming from, “To be completely honest, I’ve never heard of you guys until today.” Biting your bottom lip, you cringe, your expression begging him for mercy. Yoongi chuckles, that sound slowly becoming one you would love to try to draw out of him at any time of the day.

“It’s okay,” He says, “To be completely honest, I’m so lucky you’ve never heard about us until today.” His thumb drags over the back of the hand that he was still holding. You’d become so invested in his eyes you had forgotten that was happening, he was holding onto your hand.

“Really?” You start to smile, something small. Yoongi nodded gently, everything about this moment in time becoming increasingly delicate.

“Totally,” He says, “But I’m sorry for catfishing you,” His chin lowers, making his eyes appear more puppydog than they were already turning, and you giggle, “That wasn’t right.” 

“No,” You take a peek at your hands and feel a little flutter in your stomach, a feeling you haven’t had in a long time, “You did what you had to do, you untouchable rockstar.” It was Yoongi’s turn to narrow his eyes.

“Untouchable?” He questions, and you nod. He goes to say something again, but instead lifts your hand into your line of sight, smiling with you as your smile grows.

“You know what I mean,” You sigh, tilting your head. You're about to pull your hand away, but he keeps a decent grip on it.

“I don’t think I do,” He grills, smizing at you. The sleepiness that now haunts his eyes makes your heart swell. Once again, the exterior doesn’t match the interior. This Yoongi that was dressed like a badass, you could tell just wanted to curl up somewhere comfortable and close his eyes.

“What?” He asks, and you shake your head, “No, what?” He bounces your hand a couple of times to pull an answer out of you.

“I just… I want to know… So much about you,” You say quietly, almost a whisper, and Yoongi pauses. Your words have him stuck. “This short amount of time we’ve had isn’t enough. You know a lot about me already, it’s not fair.” He hesitates before he answers.

“There’s not much to know,” His tone is hushed.

“Doubt that, you’re an Idol,” Your tone matches his with a disbelief written in it. Yoongi pops his brows once.

“Didn’t want to be,” He mumbles, and your face twists.

“What?” You sigh, and he nods.

“I was living a life like yours, almost,” He tilts his head side to side, “Parents, you know, life just getting me down in general,” You glance to your hands, your reaction telling him that you knew about that all too well, “I had to make money, or I really wasn’t going to get past eighteen.” You turn up your chin to meet his eyes, yours now full of remorse and curiosity.

“How old are you?” You ask.

“Twenty-two,” Yoongi says, “You?” 

“Twenty-two,” You say, and he gives you a small smile.

“We both made it,” He whispers. Lifting your hand in his, he brings it close to him and presses a quick, soft kiss to the top of your fingers. Your lips part in surprise, watching him as he continues to speak, “You’re strong, I can tell, I already said that to Sunny earlier today. As far as things go with your parents, you don’t owe them anything. It’s your life, you should get to decide what you do with it.” 

“Damn,” You mutter, glancing away for a second, “Honestly, wish I could get on a plane with you and get out of this city,” You huff out a laugh, “That would be… ideal.” He chuckles at your choice of words.

There’s a moment of comfortable silence between you. Both of you watching one another with something in the air, a feeling, a specific feeling sucking you both under at a relentless, unapologetic pace. The longer you stand here, the more you’re begging for this moment not to end.

“Know what?” Yoongi breaks the silence by letting go of your hand. Standing up straight, placing your hands behind your back unsure of what to do, you watch him as he hurries to get his iPhone out of his back pocket. He messes around with the screen, then holds it out to you.

“No way,” You laugh, looking at him before taking the phone.

“Claim your spot,” He smiles, making you shake your head at the joke.

“Is this against the rules?” You glance up at him after typing in your number. Yoongi presses his lips together.

“Very much so, but I don’t give a fuck right now,” He says matter-of-factly, laughing straight after, “You’re too interesting to let go of. You make it too hard to walk away.” 

Keeping your smile to yourself now, you finish with his phone and hand it back over to him. Behind you, the doorknob to the dressing room jiggles and you figure someone is about to come out to tell you that one of you has to leave. Though the thought of having to leave him makes you want to throw a tantrum on the floor like a toddler, you know it’s inevitable.

“Thanks for listening about my life when you were under no obligation to sit on that curb for twenty minutes,” You say. Yoongi shrugs.

“I couldn’t ignore you,” He says, “There’s… There’s something about you I just,” He pauses to laugh, then sighs, “No one has ever pulled me under this fast, nor has anyone ever made it feel this good.” An uncertainty dances in his dark eyes, one that quite possibly matches your own, and you already know what you’re both thinking about.

There’s a shout from the dressing room, right before the door is thrown open so hard it collides with the wall with a thud. Yoongi glances at it over your shoulder, giving whomever it was a cold glare. It couldn’t have been Sunny. Fixed on his feline eyes, you let your mind wander to endless possibilities, some that would be deemed incredibly inappropriate for only having just met this guy today.

He was someone you could listen to for hours, and you agreed with everything he had to say. No one has ever pulled you under this fast, nor has it ever felt this good, and you’ve barely touched him. Hell, you barely know him, you’ve just learned his real name tonight, and it’s left you insatiably desperate to know more.

Yoongi looks back down to you as the commotion behind you grows, and he takes your hand in his once more. Bringing it back to his lips, he copies his kiss in the same spot and offers you a smile, one that you return happily.

“I’ll call you,” He whispers, “I promise.”

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[rainytomorrows]

Mike Schmidt x reader | Midnight ministrations

Hey guys! Decided I'd get some fic out. Decided not to write the actual sex yet- but still some yummy interaction goin on. LMK if y'all want a second part, I might do that. For now, I need this out of the way so I can start my next Hunk fic. Enjoy!

(3,494 words) ♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡

Mike groans as he spins in his spinny office chair, occasionally checking the cameras to ensure no one breaks in.  The animatronics were out somewhere for repairs, and Abby was at a sleepover until late the next day, leaving just you two for the night with nothing to do.

You were hired pretty recently.  You’d been friends with Mike for a while now.  You’d met sometime in high school but didn’t talk much until a couple of years ago.  In the midst of the past year, both of you ran into some trouble finding work.  Of course, when he got his job and you eventually gave up on your own search, he got you a job there too.  You would do anything to thank him for getting you the job, even if it was a shitty one.  For now, you’d show appreciation by making his job easier.  You were currently going through some old boxes and cleaning up the office.

“Hey, could you help me out with the cameras?  They just kinda… went down.”  Mike turns to you in his chair, awaiting a response.  You put down a box and look over towards the cameras.  Lo and behold, the cameras were disconnected.  You’d check outside, but you were sure this had something to do with the actual cameras.  With your decent electronic experience, at least.  “Sure, lemme take a look” You waltz over to the desk, leaning on it beside him.  As you approached, Mike couldn’t help but notice you.  His gaze lingered often as you knew him, but you assumed he was just observant.  With how often afterward he would compliment something like your hair or your outfit.  He found it ‘refreshing’, apparently.  The smell of the fragrance you put on this morning wafts towards him, and you don’t notice his reaction until he clears his throat.  Snapping him back to reality.

“Hm.  Weird.” You monotonously state, swaying a little from where you’re leaning.  You lean more across the desk to get a better look, not unnoticed.  Mike cannot help but notice how close you are, a strange tingling arises in his stomach.  He clears his throat once again, you’d been friends for so long.  He had no reason to assume you felt the same.  It was best to swat such thoughts away.  “Hey uh, do you have any idea what the problem could be?  It’s not outside, is it?” He asks nervously, practically wiping sweat off his forehead at the situation before him.  “Not sure, I’m thinking it might be the wiring.  I’d have to check, though.”  You think out loud, still not a hint of emotion in the way you speak.  If he’d known how nervous he made you, despite your hard-earned cool exterior, you were sure he’d laugh at you.

If only you’d known, Mike was finding it incredibly hard to concentrate on the task at hand with how close you were to him.  He feels the heat rise within him, and he can’t get himself to look away from your lips.  “Yeah- maybe, maybe you’re right” He stutters out a little, you just chalk it up to being tired.  The both of you work late shifts, after all.  You take a look at him and back to the computer again.  “I’ll take a look, hold on,” You say as you get down under the desk.  Mike tries to nod and focus, but it's difficult.  You’re so close, that he can practically feel the heat radiation off of your skin.  His thoughts swirl in his head and he cannot get a hold of them.  Tonight was just a very hard night for him.  In more ways than one.  You meddle with various wires beneath the desk, meanwhile, Mike’s heart races as he watches you move under the desk.  The sight of you under him is intoxicating, his mind can’t help but wonder.  Imagining what it would be like to be closer to you.  Suddenly, the cameras switch back on and you finish up.  Getting up to look across the desk.  “Seems I’ve fixed it, all good?”  You ask, and he clears his throat for what feels like the thousandth time that night—begging himself to come up with a semblance of professionalism.  “Yeah, that should do it.  Thanks for your help” He tries to focus on the cameras, but his gaze keeps drifting back to you.

“Great,” You get up to move some more boxes, “I gotta throw these away, I’ll be back” leaving the room to get back to work.  Once you’re out, Mike takes a deep breath.  Trying to shake off the intense desire filling him, almost emanating off of him.  He focuses on the task at hand, moving papers around his desk.  The feeling never really leaves, but for now, he has it under control.  You spend time outside cleaning up the general area, moving across multiple cameras.  To Mike’s disarray, he can’t help but watch.  The sight of you working so diligently, strangely, only worsens his infatuation.  Through an old-timey speaker in the office, he occasionally offers help and suggestions from the safety of his office when he thinks it's appropriate.  Battling the oncoming voice cracks and slip-ups.

“Thanks, Mike” You reply again to the speaker, wondering if he’s actually doing anything in his office at this point or just staring through the cameras.  It frustrates you a little.  ‘Doesn’t he trust me?  Or can’t he at least keep me company out here if he’s going to be a backseat driver?’ you’d think.

Mike’s heart races watching you from the cameras.  He can’t believe just how much he wants you.  It’s disgusting, carnal even.  He shakes his head as if the lust would spill out of his ears if he tried hard enough.  Trying desperately to clear the thoughts out of his mind.  Eventually, he decides to leave his office and accompany you in the main room.  Just in time, you set down your final box, done with your work for the night.

“Oh, hey Mike,” You notice him nonchalantly, unbeknownst to the hell he’d been experiencing just being in your presence.  However, the same bell rang for you.  You didn’t want to be obvious about your feelings, you didn’t think feelings were returned.  Every moment he spent near you was purgatory.  His adorable smile, the awkward way he held himself.  There was no way, you didn’t even know his type.  He never talked about it.  He never talked about it because obviously- it was you, but you didn’t know that.  You fix your hair, looking towards him again.  “Finished with work already?” You ask, not sure what to say at the moment.

“Looks like you are too,” he notes, keeping strict eye contact with the floor.  “Just wanted to check and make sure you’re settling in well.  I know the night shift isn’t easy” He tries to make and keep eye contact, but he cannot.  All he can think about is how close he is to you.  The scent of you, the way your clothes fall on your body.  It’s too much to bear.  “...long day so far, huh?” He tries to make conversation, unsure what to do with all his pent-up feelings and the unidentified awkward feeling in the air.  “Yeah, been alright so far though” you reply, feeling all the same frustrations.  “I mean, you can always tell me if I’m forgetting something I gotta do?” you question in an unsure tone, now feeling as if you were doing something wrong.

“No yeah, you’re doing great.  Just, let me know if you need any help” He gulps something down mid-sentence, clawing and scratching at any semblance of composure.  He takes a deep breath, there's a clear hesitance in your body language and your face as he continues.  You’re unsure where the source of his awkwardness is coming from,  it makes you feel as if there is something wrong with how you are acting.  Did you do something?

“I just, I wanted to see you.  You’re always...  Appealing?”  You fight to figure out what he means by this.  Just- what?  You assume he means your fashion or something since he’s always been a little bad at compliments.  Pausing before finally formulating a response “...well that’s the first time my clothes have evoked that sort of reaction”.  You laugh a little, covering your mouth with your hand amid a giggle “I can always give you a makeover if you want”

He puts a hand in his hair and shakes his head, looking back up at the ceiling before finally saying it.  The thing that’s been on his (and your) mind for the past couple of years.

“No!  I, god, no, I love your fashion but,”  He pauses, putting his face in his hands.  “You!  You are appealing, I love you!  Fuck.”  His hands now move to his hips, every moment he speaks is another nervous movement.  His hands won't stop shifting, neither will he or his thoughts.  “You are so attractive.  And you’re so interesting- and kind, and funny, you are one of the best things to ever happen to me.  I’m so happy when I’m with you, and I never want to stop being around you,” His voice is faint, trembling.  He rambles on and on, shy compliments falling from his mouth uncontrollably.  Like an ocean out of a spigot.  You can see him shaking.

You pause again, you’ve been friends for how long now?  Working the job he helped you get, assuming he never returned your feelings, the thousands of memories coming to mind in a moment.  You wanted to tell him the same- that you loved his stupid dorky smile and his stupid laugh and the way he worked so hard all the time.  All you could muster was a small “...ah”, which sounded a lot more like a sort of rejection than you wanted.  Too lost in realizing how long ago you could have possibly had him, how long ago you could have said something.  How much you just, loved him.  The fact that he LIKED you.  He loved you back!

But, this reaction just made him more nervous than anything.  His chances looked slim.  Worse- unsubstantial.  Non-existent.  He watches your reaction carefully, hopeful and nervous at the same time.  “So, is there…  Any chance, you feel the same way about me?” He asks nervously, his heart pounding like a jackhammer in his chest.

You nod, looking away from him.  “You felt this way- how long?”

Mike swallows hard, surprised by your response but trying to hide it.  “I… I don’t know.  A while.  I mean, I always thought you were really great, but then it just.  It started feeling different.  A couple of years now?  I think?”  He admits, his voice barely above a whisper.  You don’t move an inch, looking back into his eyes.  “...Really?”

A sudden boldness overtakes him, nodding “Yes, do you?” he asks, taking a step closer to you.  You back a little nervously, unsure how to handle the vulnerability happening so suddenly.  He doesn’t question too much, he knows well and good how awkward you get in vulnerable situations.  “...yes”.  Mike reaches out to cup your face, rubbing his thumb under your eyes a small bit.  “Really?  You feel the same way about me, honestly?”  You nod tentatively, avoiding eye contact in embarrassment.  You knew there was no reason, he felt the same way, but it was just a little overwhelming.

Nevertheless, what was noticeably similar between the two of you now, was your gaze.  He could see the change in your eyes as you looked him up and down.  He steps forward, slowly as to let you turn him down if you want.  Not a single move he made was stopped by you, not the way he slowly got closer to you.  The way his hands moved to your lips, or the way his face got closer.  His confidence rose, now speaking inches away from you.  “It’s alright, no need to be embarrassed” he whispered comfortingly, a sort of calm and coddling tone to his voice.  “I’ve wanted you, this, for so long” He waited for signs from you after every sentence, hanging on to every motion you made as if it was all that ever mattered. 

You almost gave in, your face getting closer to his when you realized.  Putting a hand on his chest, you created some distance “Hold on- we can’t do this here.  We’re at work.”

“I know, I just.  I need you.  No one’s here, no one else will be, and the only people who watch- or can figure out- the old-ass cameras are us.  You’re so, hot.  Please-” He begs in a soft whisper, not in a way that is overpowering, or demanding.  It was pathetic and weak.  He stares at you, eyes filled with need, desire, and desperation.  His eyebrows furrow in such a way, softly.  Like he needs you, at your mercy.  Your own confidence rises a little now, a sense of power is in your hands now.

“Do you not want this?”  He implores, once more not in a way that is not manipulative but desperate.  He’d get on the floor and kiss your boots if you wanted- all he wanted was you.  “I do, but…” You start, taking your chance to tease him the moment it presents itself.  “If you need me that bad, you’ll have to wait…” You look towards the clock, and back into his puppy eyes.  “Another hour or so.”

“Another hour?” He asks in an exasperated breath, trying not to groan in the process.  “Can we… at least touch?” He whispers again, his voice hoarse with need and desire.  You smile, stars in your eyes “If you can handle it without losing control of yourself, sure you can” You challenge him, enjoying the way he melts at your every word.

He nods, breathing deeply to calm himself.  “I’ll try my best” Leaning in closer once more, his hand slides up your thigh.  You’re unsure where to put your hands, feeling the heat radiating between the both of you.  He feels it too, and it drives him crazy.  “I’ve dreamed of this,” He mutters, his hands ghosting slightly under the bottom of your shirt against your skin.  “Can I touch you?  Just a little? Please,” He begins to mumble towards the end, unable to formulate his emotions properly.

You laugh a little, flattered at how much of a mess he is in your presence.  “Just a little” you murmur, feeling his fingers begin to brush against your waist.  Heat pounding in both of your chests.  His fingers brush against the skin under your clothes, tracing delicate patterns across your stomach and up to your chest.  Not yet touching there, “You’re so beautiful,” He whispers, his lips grazing against your neck.  “I want to make love to you so badly,” He sounds so pathetic, he’s never sounded like this before.  It sent shivers through you, he was a strong man.  Hell, you were there when he decked that man in the mall.  Though you’d never admit you enjoyed it a little too much.  It was delicious, a man of so much resolve and strength was at your mercy.  Begging and pleading for your permission, your attention.  Your anything.  He held himself even now with so much dominance, but not missing his fair share of submissiveness.  Just for you.

You place a hand on his chest, backing up teasingly.  Urging him forward.  “Too bad you have to wait the full hour then, hm?”  Mike chuckles softly in response, “You’re cruel, you know that?  But, I’ll endure” He leans down again, lips close to yours, teasingly so but not quite touching.  You look him in the eyes, backing up just a little more as you hit a table.  He places his hands on the table and leans on it, one arm on each side of you.  “Should’ve expected that from me, honestly.  With how long we’ve been friends, and all” You laugh, and Mike’s heart skips a beat.  Leaning closer, bodies pressed tightly together.  “I did.”  He whispers, warm breath against your skin.  “But, I could have never imagined it would feel this good”

“Flattering won’t get me to speed up that timer, you know” You joke, deflecting his loving response.  But, you can’t avoid it forever.  His fingers continue to dance all over your skin, taking as much of you in as he could.  His gaze locks onto yours, full of longing “I know,” he says softly, the way he said it was so small but so sure of himself.  “But, I can’t help myself”

You hide your face in your hands, blushing profusely.  Your reputation seemed at stake in your mind, having been the cool calm, and collected friend up until now.  It was hanging on by threads, but you weren’t so sure it’d hold up to the end of the night.  “I’m sure” you retort to his earlier comment.  Mike’s chest rises and falls with his breath, anticipation thick in the air.  You could practically cut through it with a knife.  No amount of joking could cover how much the both of you wanted each other.  His hand meets your chin gently, tilting your head to meet his gaze once again.  “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?”  Barely responding, you nod.  Eyes half-lidded in excitement you make a half-assed effort to hide.  “Mhm,”

Mike leans in, finally.  His lips brush against yours, not quite an actual kiss yet.  It’s a soft teasing kiss that only leaves you wanting more.  His hands find their way back to your waist to pull you closer still.  “Just a little longer,” he seems to beg himself.  His voice is low and seductive, but there’s no mistaking that he’s not the one in charge here.  There’s no mistaking the tone in his voice showing just how much control you have over him.  You lean into him as he continues to explore under your clothes.  An idea enters your head, glancing at the table behind you.  Mike gives small kisses and gentle touches, anticipation and desire building more and more.

As if reading your mind, Mike moves his arms under your legs and lifts you to sit on the table, holding you against him.  “Are you sure you can wait?”  he whispers, a hint of amusement evident in his voice.  “I’m fine, can YOU wait?” you lie, still flustered about how he simply lifted you onto the table.  He moves closer, mouth only inches from yours.  “You really don’t have to be so afraid of being vulnerable, you know?”  tilting his head for a slow, sweet kiss.  You melt into it, grasping at your clothes and parting to take some off.  Removing your jacket and vest to be left in a t-shirt, your neck is now more visible.

It doesn’t take much for him to get the idea.  He’s known you long enough to figure out what you’re saying without you saying it.  His hands wander up your arms, tracing your skin again as he leans in closer.  Lips brushing against your neck, shivers running down your spine in unison.  His breath is warm against your skin as he whispers in your ear, “Tell me what you want”

There wasn’t an easy way to say it.  You couldn’t just give in, absolutely not.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about” You feign indifference, in your least convincing performance yet.  You hope he simply becomes impatient, and gives you what he clearly knows you want.  Though, he never was.  He’s always been so stubbornly patient.  Even now, that was something you loved about him.  He chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around you tight.  “I know you better than that,” He whispers, lips pressing against the side of your neck.  “I can tell.  But, do you want this to be some sort of game?  Pretend like I don’t drive you absolutely crazy?”  There’s no answer from you.  Of course not, then you wouldn’t be playing the game right.

Mike continues his ministrations, his hand cupping the back of your head, not stopping his teasing anytime soon.  “You like this, huh?” His voice is quiet, but there’s no mistaking you heard him.  In the midst, you try to stay strong, but noises escape you.  Embarrassment might eat you whole, if he wasn’t already doing that.  “That’s what I thought” You can feel him smirk against your skin, placing butterfly kisses against your neck once again before he pulls back to look into your eyes.  You wrap your legs around him, placing your arms around him and your face in the crook of his neck.  His hands slide under your shirt, tracing gentle circles on your back as he leans in for a deeper kiss.  You follow his lead, his hands explore farther and farther, until,

DING!  6 am strikes, and your shift ends.  The night ends, but yours just started.

♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡ Hope you enjoyed it! This took way longer than I wanted it to, work and all has been flooding me. Have a good night/day, and a great life!

#fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #fiction #fan fic #fic writing #fnaf movie #fnaf #fnaf mike #mike schmidt #mike #michael schmidt #movie mike #fnaf fanfic

[chelsea-xxx2003]

Chapter 5

(Part 5)

Maya's POV

We continued walking down a tunnel of darkness until we reach the end. "Well.....what now?"

"I got it." He reaches out for something and pulls on it. The whole place lights up. It looks like a large room for electrical power or sum stuff. Aaron puts his bag down and his boombox. He pulls out a mixtape from his pocket and puts it in the stereo. He presses play. He started playing his rap mixtape as I start looking around.

"Maya, come over here."

He gets a bunch of spray paint from his massive bag. Theres all types of colours and shades. I approach him and he hands me a can. Pink

"What you want me to hold it for you?"

"Nah, paint somthin."

"I can't paint. I'm not an artist."

"I ain't no artist neither but I know how to paint. You know the graffiti down your street and behind the school?"

"Yeah."

"That was me."

Aint no way. That stuff was dope. A bunch of words in bubble writing. Skulls, ghosts and even the grim reaper. I had seen them with the initial A.D at the bottom corner. Now I know it was my boo the did that.

"You did that. That's dope. I didn't know. You have to teach me."

He chuckled for a bit. He came up behind me. Held the back of my hand that had the spray paint. He out his finger on top of mine to press the spray paint. We start of easy. A simple heart. It's cute.

I was getting more confident by the time. I was using different colours and spraying different shape while my mans was doing his own thing on the other side. I turn my head to look at him and he's so focused. He look hmmm..... you know... mmmmmm. He looks so good being concentrated. I look at my work and its hearts, flowers and stuff. I'm done so I just sit on a stool and watch him work.

“Like what you see?”

He notices that I’m staring. Staring hard.

“Yes I do.”

He slowly turns to face and approach me. I stay seated. Now I'm gradually looking up at him. He's a tall guy so his crotch area is provocatively close to my face. He gives me this look. I stand up but I'm not where near as tall as him. He still looks down at me. A soft touch comes across my cheek down to my chin. He leans down and presses a gentle kiss on my lips. Then another and another. I lift myself up on my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck. He completes the puzzle by wrapping his own around my waist. The room gets hot in a cozy way.

It escalates to his lips on my neck. He knows my weak points. I would've fallen if his strong arm didn't have a grip on me. My feet are off the floor now wrapped around him.

Then he stops. Both of us out of breath. We make eye contact.

"You know how I moved out and moved into my own place?"

I raise my eyebrow. "Mhmm."

"I want you to move in with me."

If I wasn't breathless before. I sure was now. He moved in a week ago. I would've hopped on his idea but....

"Are you sure, don't you think I should ask my parents first. You know it's gonna take a while before they actually allow me to, especially my dad. Besides, ain't it too soon. You just moved in."

"I asked for you and they gave me their permission. Although your dad did interrogate me and give me the eye but its cool. It's just a matter of you grabbing your stuff and being with me."

"OK!"

I squeal and hug him with so much force that he falls backwards. Words cannot express how ecstatic I am. Now I sit on top of him. I look up and take notice of his art work. It's a big colourful butterfly with my name in graffiti writing on top. I smile as I look down at him. He has this stupid grin on his face.

"You like it?"

"I love it."

"Lemme take some pictures."

He pulls out a Polaroid camera and takes some photos of our art work. The he turns to me while smiling. I ain't even know he had pointed at me. I catch him and smear pain on his face. He immediately retaliates and puts paint on me too. He sets it down and we take a selfie.

We admire it more then he packs up his stuff. Once he's done he calls me to go. He flicks off the light and then we leave the subway. We climb the stairs back to civilisation. I look at the sky in shock. The sun was rising. It looks around 4am.

"Aaron."

"Y-yeah."

"Imma kill you. I HAVE WORK IN 4 HOURS."

#spideman #miles morales #Aaron davis #Aaron Davis x oc #into the spider verse #itsv

[oxycharm]

Take a picture, it’ll last longer.

abt: based off one of my headcanons I came up with, basically boris taking photos of theo when he was drunk. ( I haven’t wrote a fic since like middle school so I am so sorry if it’s this trash T_T, also I’ve noticed a lack of boreo fics on this app, ok I’ll shut up now)

———————————————————————

“ Potter, your glasses are on upside down!” Boris chuckles while attempting to get up from the bed covered with vodka bottles, a bunch of random chip bags, and Theo’s legs resting on his lap.

“ I don’t feel them? i think you’re pretty delusional boris.. because I don’t think my glasses are on my face.” He says while putting his hands on his eyes, somehow too high or drunk even to tell he’s wearing them. Boris could easily tell cause Theo gets stupid when drunk and his face has a light pinkish blush on it.

“ dumbass they are on your face, you’re pretty drunk potter.” Boris says while playfully knocking Theo’s head with his knuckles, then he gets an idea and manages to get out the bed.

“ hey! If I am drunk who’s fault is that? I didn’t bring the vodka you know.” Theo reaches and crawls over to attempt and punch Boris’s arm, but fails when misses the whole arm despite being right there and falls and slumps on the floor in defeat. Boris simply laughs like a manic.

Boris cannot take him seriously because he can say normal sentences but they all have a funny slurred voice to it, almost a bubbly voice at that. Plus he likes drunk Theo because he seems kind of more happier then when he is sober.

“ You didn’t bring the vodka but you got the Jack Daniels from your dads cabinet. Did you not?” Boris says while walking over to his closet which only has a few black or dark colored outfits. He reaches his arm up to one of the shelves effortlessly and pulls down a white Polaroid camera. Which seems to haven’t been used for anything.

“ hey potter, say сыр!” *click* Theo very unaware of what even just happened within the last maybe 10 seconds had a stunned, but funny look on his face. “ lemme see lemme see, I wanna see!” Theo attempting to see but the taller boy holding the polaroid picture up high. “ ah ah say please”.

“ You fucker just show me the goddamn photo!” Theo at this point is trying to climb up Boris to see it and they both end up falling to the ground, popper comes running in to see the commotion. “ Look what you did potter, popchyk is confused now”. Theo and Boris laugh at what just occurred and Boris faces Theo and shows him the picture.

“ Jesus do I really look like that?” Boris chuckles once more and fixes Theo’s crooked glasses. “ Don’t worry potter you are just fine, your glasses were just very crooked. Let’s take another.” Boris gets the camera and faces it towards them, Popchyk crawls on Theo’s chest and lays there aswell while Theo softly pets him. * click click* then they both sit up.

Boris pulls out the Polaroid and stares with a slight blush on his cheeks, They are laying on the carpet with Theo laying on his shoulder slightly with a small smile on his face, his eyes glossy you can tell even with his glasses on, wearing Boris’s iconic cat shirt and with popper laying there too.

Boris turns to face Theo who I was also staring or starstruck even like he’s never see a photo before in his life. Him on the other hand was staring at Boris, his dark curls slightly coming down on his face with a giant smile, he could point out almost every freckle on his face if he wanted too.

“ You can keep it” Boris says snapping Theo out of his staring. “ Oh.. no it’s ok you can keep it Boris, it’s a very nice picture” pushing Boris’s hand back. Theo turns away slightly trying to hide the warmth creeping up to his cheeks more. Boris is actually pretty amused on how Theo is getting flustered but it’s probably the alcohol.

*click* Boris took this as a moment of opportunity to take a picture of him. Facing his head away sitting criss cross with his hands still on the dogs head and the lighting from the lamp gives it a warm tone. Theo stunned again rolls his eyes. “ Can I use the camera now?” Boris hand him the camera watching how he struggles to figure out how to use it. *click* *click* “ how the fuck do you work this thing!” Boris cannot stop laughing, at this rate his stomach will be sore tomorrow from how much he is laughing tonight.

“ potter do you need help.” “ no I can do it.” He eventually figures it out and by then Boris already lit a cigarette. *click* Theo pulled out the photo and it was Boris laying up on the bedside with a cigarette between his two fingers, you could even seen the smoke from the cig in the picture too. “ wow.” “ Is it bad potter?” With the cigarette still in hand

Theo shows him the photo and Boris smiles at it. “ hey, you could be a future photographer it’s nice.” Theo smiles wide “ I wanna keep this one, you look pretty.” He grabs a nearby marker and marks it, dumbass Boris. They both roll around laughing the whole night accumulating a bunch of photos from one of them drinking vodka bottles, cigarettes between fingers, even some of them having fun with popchyk, or just goofy pictures of one another.

The last photo of the night is Theo at 3am, in the moonlight, wrapped up in blankets sleeping peacefully with popchyk right beside him. “ I think I like this one the most” Boris says hoping not to wake Theo. He sets the camera down along with all the photos from it on the desk right beside the bed, then lays down and closes his eyes with a faint smile on his face.

“ I heard you by the way” Theo says causing another quiet moment of them laughing.

#boris pavlikovsky #Theo #theo decker #the goldfinch #boreo #boreo fic #pure fluff #polaroid #boris x theo #theo x boris #i actually really like how this turned out #tgf boris #tgf theo #popchyk

[reversecreek]

That morning, Lana dreamt that her collar bones were window sills littered with the ash of spent cigarettes, that her head was just a shut window with the curtains firmly drawn. Whenever Elton whittled to the end of one, sucking with the fervour of a vampire who’d spent sixteen hundred years confined to an underground crypt, he lit up another, tapped his dozenth dainty clump to flutter and perch on bone. It tickled. Itched. Sometimes wings stirred from the mounds, antennae that twitched and trembled, receptacles that documented every freckle. She’d woken to find the burnt nub of a joint inexplicably lodged inside of her belly button, space besides her empty. A disoriented blink and a slow sit saw her flicking it off into Elton’s bedding like the world’s least maternal kangaroo. Things had been interesting since blowing off Jude, to put it delicately. She’d always been told she had a knack for it, stumbling into these situations. Everyone said it that way. Like she was never tying her laces, so how could she expect not to fall face first and split her lip on the concrete? Lana never knew what to say when it was laid out like that, gutted and splayed on the surgical table, her bloody heart shuddering like a beached salmon inside their fist. There wasn’t quite a way to put it into words, the fact that she’d rather it was a bear with a dripping muzzle that was holding it, her, eager to bite out chunks -- that the pieces of her in someone’s teeth felt strangely nostalgic, sometimes, like sleeping in her childhood bedroom, Caleb like before, Tommy still alive, off somewhere playing with their walkies. 

It’d stuck with her, this dream, all the way past sunset, perched like a gargoyle up in the steeples of her kaleidoscopic, stained glass brain, and it was still there, lurking, as she slipped into Elton’s bedroom, whole house jittering like a nervous knee with bass. After party for his band’s latest show. It wasn’t actually his house, one of his friend’s, but him and Lana had been designated one of the guests. Still, Elton’s bedroom. Lana recognised that the moment he told her never to touch his guitar, designated her things into a shoved left corner. Delicately wavering fingers a breath above its strings, Lana knelt in the empty room nursing a Solo cup of dark rum, daring the particles in the air to magnetise and repel her hand. She traced their lengths without touching, pupils attentively fat, slight smile niggling like a butterfly trapped beneath a glass. She’d just about managed a lamb’s bleat of a stroke, tender as anything, a rule so deliciously broken, when the door swung open, prompting her so suddenly onto her feet that it had her cup sloshing all over. “I’m innoce--” her excuse had already cut short when she realised who it was, not Elton at all, or even another one of his idiot friends -- no, Jude, instead, Jude who she’d spent two weeks fucking and then promptly evaporated into thin air without so much as a “be right back”. Not only that, but he had a leech suckling all of the blood from his lips, still attached and rifling through his hair with grabby fists like she was canvassing his scalp for dandruff, eager to chomp up any potential flake. Hungry, mad with it. Carnivorous, almost. 

Letting out a little laugh, the canned kind from a cancelled nineties sitcom, Lana dipped a smile down at her shoes, focused on chasing a wobbly stripe up the spill on her thigh. “So this is, like, kinda cool,” she made her presence apparent, airy as a helium balloon, floating up to tangle in the branches of a tall tree, a violence of red against all that living green. Why was Jude here? Her brain kept shaking and presenting a different answer like a broken magic eight ball. Cannot predict now. Outlook not so good. “Is this my porn director moment? Ugh, I wish I’d worn a stick on ‘tache. Okay, lemme, like, get in role.” Sucking the damp she’d collected with each sluggish swipe of a finger, Lana unknowingly left a longer pause than intended, eyes flitting between Jude and his company at an 8:2 ratio. “Can you freak things up a bit and tongue his ear like it’s the, um -- the honeycomb umbrella from Squid Game? Like, just, lalala,” she imitated going to town in the ring of her thumb and finger, quickly dropping her hand to accidentally land with a slap against wet thigh. There was a snag in her red fishnet like someone had clawed it there, torn in a bid to seek her closer. She absently fingered the frays. “I’m just saying, ‘cause you seem nice, and everything, but it’s kinda giving boring.” Barely a beat for any awkwardness to form, oblivious to the fact it inevitably already had, Lana outstretched her cup in a tilted cheers. “I’ll -- oh, it’s -- whoa, moist,” she couldn’t help but quote Jennifer Coolidge about her cookie, grin plumping her cheeks to that of a cherub then faltering. “Um, sorry -- I’ll just...” trailed off, shakily ditching her full cup on the side as she knead her lips once. “Yeah, sorry. Eat ass, I’m gonna go hydrate.” Flashing another smile worthy of a politician’s billboard, so toothy a dentist ought to be charged a standard check-up rate, Lana pushed past without another word and slipped hurriedly into the hallway, already feeling along the banister to seek another drink. @drugstoreglitter​

#lana | jude #no idea. why this is so long honestly. #also? unsure if this makes sense........................... i wont proofread.

[moxleys-darlin]

8: A Broken Crayon Still Colors

Summary: Grace visits Cincinnati to see her boys and it's graduation time! ❤️

TW: discussion/mention/past thoughts of past abuse, "I can't believe I survived", self doubt

Disclaimer: I absolutely changed Mox's backstory so read carefully ❤️ I also have no idea about Claudio's past but this is fiction lol ❤️ Italics are flashbacks

I don't speak Spanish, Italian, or French so these are translated! Hope I got them right! Lemme know! ❤️

I only claim Grace and her family; everyone else I'm borrowing.

“Claudio’s picking you up when you land?” She rolls her eyes affectionately at the worry in Eddie’s question. 

“Yes Papa; Moxie is training with his partner and working with his next opponent so Claudio will get me from the airport. He’s going to be there an hour before, and I gave him where I should come out. Don’t worry so much or you’ll get more gray in your hair.” 

“Hush you, it’s my job to worry about you.” He shakes his head. 

She leans over to kiss his cheek. “I appreciate it. I’ll give Dad your love and I’ll see you Tuesday at four-ish.” She slides out of the truck and grabs her bag from the backseat.

“Sure, you don’t want me to see you off?” 

“I’ll be okay.” She blows him a kiss before heading inside the airport.

Claudio isn’t hard to find in the crowd and she beams when he makes eye contact with her. They had known each other for almost five months, but the two men had been so busy that this was the first time they had seen each other since they met. She maneuvers around people until she finds herself right in front of her tall Swiss and she finds herself being kissed breathless. 

“I have missed you piccolina; phone and video calls are not enough.” He says when he pulls away.

“I missed you too, both of you, so much.” She steps back but grabs his hand as she realizes people are staring at them. “Come on, I’m starving and I can’t wait to see y’all’s apartment in person.” He takes her bags from her and she can’t stop smiling as he leads her to the car. 

“Are you okay with ordering out tonight? Jon cannot cook to save his life and, while I am learning, I only know simple meals. We waited to go shopping for any food except sandwich ingredients until you arrived so that you could have a say as well.” He opens the car door for her and waits until she’s in before closing the door. 

He puts her bag in the backseat and goes to the driver's seat to get in with her. “Takeout’s perfect, guapo, I’m really not picky.”

“Pizza then? As long as Jon has pepperoni he’s happy, and he’ll be staving after training.”

“Sounds perfect. Will he be home soon, or do you know?” 

“Once he learns you’re at the apartment I’m sure he will leave whether they are done with training or not.” She stares at him as he chuckles deeply, not able to help being mesmerized by him still. “What is it, bellissima?”

“You’re beautiful.” She blurts out before blushing deeply. “I-I still have trouble knowing that y’all are actually mine.” His arm is on the middle console, and she traces her fingers over his mark. 

“You are beautiful as well and Jon and I know exactly how lucky we are to have found you. Never doubt that our love for you is strong and we will always be yours, yes?” 

“You might have to tell me a few times for it to sink in; sorry in advance.” She giggles and looks up at him when he moves his arm and grabs her hand to squeeze it. 

“I’ll tell you as many times as you need to believe me.” He kisses the back of her hand and continues holding it as they drive.

“A squash match?! Two against one and it results in a squash match? What the heck? I know Big Show is supposed to be this all-powerful giant but come on.” She groans into Claudio’s chest as he laughs at her outburst. 

“Uh oh, what’s got our Gracie Rose all worked up?” She turns away from Claudio’s chest and faces their other soulmate.

“It was a squash match Moxie; a minute long and you didn’t get to showcase anything. What was the point? Es tan estúpido.” He sighs and rolls his eyes before pulling her into a sweaty hug which makes her squirm. “Ew! Moxie that’s gross!” She pushes him off her as he and Claudio laugh at her. 

“Today was all about exposure babe; people that didn’t know about Jon Moxley know about me now. They may decide to look me up and see some other matches of mine. Plus, I got paid to get my ass handed to me by the big man.” He shrugs and she can’t help but laugh at him. 

“Well said Mister Moxley. It was a good match regardless of the ending; I know how difficult facing Paul Wight can be, so you did well.” They turn to look at William coming up behind them. 

“Thank you, Lordship.” Jon drawls out. “Much appreciated support coming from you.” 

Grace gives William a quick hug and a smile. “Hey William, no Bryan today?” 

“Hello little dove.” He smiles down at her. “No, he has a few matches this week so he’s training for them, but he sends his love and says we’ll be at your graduation.”

“I’ll make sure to give him a call when I get home tomorrow! And I’m glad that y’all are able to come.” She looks at Claudio and puts her hand out and grins when he grabs it. “I don’t know if you’ve officially met my other soulmate; this is Claudio Castagnoli.” William’s eyes light up at the name and happily shakes Claudio’s hand. 

“Ah yes! I have seen you wrestle, and I believe you’ve had a few matches against my Bryan in Ring of Honor.” He sends a sly wink to Grace. “You have some talented boys by your side, little dove.” 

“Yes I do, and I’m very proud of them.” She beams with pride. “We’re going to go get something to eat and hang out before I leave tomorrow, but I’ll see you at the end of the month, okay?”

“I shall watch out for the two of you gentlemen in the future; you both have impressed me greatly. Grace, darling, congratulations again on your acceptance to the University of Texas.” He drops a kiss on the top of her head. “I will see you all at the end of the month.” With that he walks off and they are surprised when Paul and Stephanie Levesque approach them. 

“Well done out there, Mr. Moxley, and thank you for coming and wrestling tonight.” 

“You’re welcome, ma’am; thank you for letting me come.” Jon runs a hand through his hair. “And you can call me Mox, everybody does; well except for his Lordship William Regal but he never listens.” Grace snorts at that. 

“Well, you did good, son.” Paul puts his hand out and Grace is proud of her man, knowing that it’s a sign of respect from the older wrestler. 

“And how are you, Grace?” Stephanie turns her attention to her. “How’s Eddie?”

“I’m well thank you, ma’am. Papa is good as well, he’s back in El Paso at the school. I’m here this weekend to support Jon and see them both before I get busy the last couple weeks of school before graduation.” She gives the older woman a small smile and Claudio squeezes her hand in comfort. 

“Well tell him we said hello and congratulations on graduating! I’ll make sure to send something for you with Chris. Good job again Mr. Moxley.” Grace breathes a sigh of relief as they walk off and both men send her a questioning look. 

“Are you okay, darlin’? Look like you saw fuckin’ ghost, babe.”

“She just rattles me sometimes; nothing she’s ever done, it’s just how everyone else acts when they see me and her.”

“Why? ‘Cause you look kinda like her?”

“It’s like a running joke that Vince must have got bored when they were in San Antonio one time, and it resulted in me. They try to keep it away from the McMahons and my dad, but word gets around. People think it’s funny to ‘mistake’ me for Stephanie.”

Jon scoffs and throws his arm over her shoulder while Claudio squeezes her hand again. “People need to mind their damn business; I hate that elementary bullshit.” He shakes his head and kisses her temple as they arrive at the car. “Let’s get some food and forget about tonight, okay?” At her nod, he gives her a peck on the lips before opening the door for her.

“We love you, tesoro.” Claudio gives her a kiss too before she gets in the car. 

Watching them bicker from the backseat make her wish she never had to leave them again. These past few days with them have been amazing and she can’t wait until the day she doesn’t have to tell them goodbye. 

“Knock knock cariña, may I come in?” Nancy laughs as Eddie calls out from behind the door like it’s not open.

“Come in Papa! Mama’s just finishing my hair.” She turns when the door opens wider, but the man doesn’t say anything and sees Eddie staring at her. “What is it, Papa?”

“You look beautiful, Grace.” He wipes a tear from his eye and comes over to kiss her on the top of her head.

“Thank you.” She looks up at him and smiles. “I’m glad I can celebrate this day with all of you.” She grabs his hand and squeezes. “Are William and Bryan here yet? Bry called about an hour ago and said they were ‘close’ which means nothing coming from him.” 

“Sí cariña they just showed up, it’s why I came up here. They both would like to give you their present now before everything happens tonight.” 

She cocks her head to the side in confusion. “Uh, sure of course they can.” She looks over at Nancy. “Are we good Mama?” 

“Yes baby; you’re all curled and perfect! You just need to change into your dress but that will be before we leave.”

She looks quickly in the mirror and hugs Nancy tightly. “I love it! Thank you!”

“You look beautiful, baby.” Nancy beams as Grace kisses her on the cheek. “When will your boys be here?”

“Thank you Mama.” She checks her phone again and sees Claudio’s message. “Claudio says they’ll be here in about twenty minutes, but knowing Jon’s driving? They’ll be here in about ten.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to meet them!” Grace grabs Nancy’s hand as she starts to leave the room. “What is it baby?”

“Just… Jon isn’t big on a lot of attention outside of the ring; he’s kind of like Ty in a way or Dad.” Nancy squeezes Grace’s hand. “Claudio’s a people person, he can make friends with anyone, but Jon is quiet and can get antsy. Please watch out for him until I come down?”

“Of course I’ll take care of your boy, baby; he’s family now.” A knock interrupts them and she’s excited when Bryan is the first to walk in.

“Dragon! I’m so happy you’re here!” Bryan guffaws at the use of his nickname and catches her as she jumps in his arms. 

“Terribly sorry to interrupt, my friends.” 

“Not interrupting at all William, we were just heading downstairs to wait for Grace’s boys. Come on Eddie, let’s go see what damage has been caused while we were up here.”

Bryan releases Grace so she can hug William as well before she sits at her desk. “Papa said you wanted to give me my present now instead of later?”

Bryan laughs softly. “More like Will didn’t want your sister or Tyler to see it and think it was a toy.” She looks at William confused, and he laughs as well.

“Ignore him, dove.” Regal chuckles. “We were going to pay for your books as a present, but Chris and Taz stated- quite proudly I might add- that your scholarship covers such things.” He holds out the gift bag and she’s surprised at how heavy it is. “So, we got you something we hope will help. Go on, flower.” 

She gasps softly as she pulls out the box for a laptop. “William, Bry, you shouldn’t have. This is so expensive-.”

“Nonsense Grace, this will help you in school and we wanted to get it for you.”

Bryan pats her shoulder and smiles when she looks up at him. “You deserve it, Gracie; you worked so hard to get the grades and the scholarships you got, okay?” 

She sets the box back in the bag and sets it on the desk before hugging both men. “Thank you so much! I promise I’ll take care of it.”

“We know you will, little dove.” He pats her gently on the back. “Now, let’s go down and see if those boys of yours are here, yes?”

She nods excitedly and practically skips downstairs as William and Bryan chuckle behind her. She’s happy to see Claudio sitting at the table talking to her family while Moxie has his hands resting on the Swiss’s shoulders. She can tell he’s a little uncomfortable but seems okay at the moment so she’s not worried. 

“There you are! We’ve been waiting, Gracie; your friends are here.” Sheri giggles and leans closer to her. “I think Shaul likes Jon.”

“Sheri! I do not!” Sheri giggles and runs to their Papa for him to save her. “Please ignore her, Gracie.” 

Grace laughs and waves her hand. “Shauly, it’s fine. Stop worrying! Jon’s cute; heck all I think about is how cute they are, so it’s fine.” She hugs Shaul as she laughs. “Now come on so I can go rescue Jon from the talkers of our family.” 

She comes up to the table and Jon seems to sense that someone new is in the room as he turns his head to look at her. His eyes seem to light up a little now that he has both her and Claudio in the room and she watches as he runs a hand across Claudio’s shoulder to get his attention. 

“Ah, bellissima there you are, we were just getting to know your lovely family.” Claudio booms and she smiles at him as he gets up to greet her. “You look beautiful.” He whispers in her ear as he kisses her cheek. 

“Thank you guapo; I’m so glad y’all could make it.” She turns to Jon and hugs him gently, smiling when some of the tension leaves his body. “I’m glad your job let you come. Are you okay or do you wanna go outside for a bit?” She whispers softly in his ear.

“Uh, outside for a minute? Claudio and I wanna give you a present anyway.” He mutters and she nods. 

“Hey Mama, we’re gonna head outside for a minute, okay? We’ll be right back.” She and Nancy have a silent conversation for a moment before Nancy nods. 

“Of course baby; just remember we need to get you changed in a few and head out.” 

She grabs Claudio’s hand and loops a finger through Jon’s belt loop as he leads them to the back door and outside before hugging her again. She giggles as Claudio comes and sandwiches her between them. 

“We got you somethin’ for your graduation, darlin’.” Jon murmurs in her ear and she blushes lightly. 

“Y’all didn’t have to do that; thank you though I really appreciate it.” 

Claudio and Jon step back and Claudio bends slightly to kiss the red-tinged cheek. “We had a bit of help from your papa, caro, so we hope you like them.”

She doesn’t have time to answer as Claudio pulls a necklace box from his pants pocket. She opens it slowly and gasps as she sees the beautiful silver oval locket opened showing their pictures inside. 

“Oh guys, it’s beautiful! Will you put it on?” Grace looks between her two soulmates. 

“In a moment bellissima. Jon?” She looks at Jon and notices he has a jewelry box as well. 

“This is too much y’all!”  “Open it, brat.” He says as he rolls his eyes lovingly. 

In the box is a simple ID bracelet with the engraving Mox & Claudio with their soulmark next to it and it makes her tear up. “I love them! Please put them on me so I can wear them tonight.”

Claudio gathers her hair gently and places it over her shoulder before clasping the locket while Jon fights with the bracelet a moment before finally getting it on her. She kisses Jon first then turns and kisses Claudio in thanks before Nancy comes outside. 

“Sorry guys; Grace we gotta get you dressed and get going, come on.”

“We’ll meet you at the school, Gracie, we’re riding with Bryan and William there so we can get some good seats for the family.” 

“Okay Moxie, Claudio. See y’all there.” She kisses them quickly again before following her Mama upstairs to get ready.

Grace sighs in relief as she finds an empty classroom to step into after graduation. She grasps her locket and slides it back and forth as she tries to put the gray thoughts out of her head. She tries to remember that today is special because she never thought she’d actually be alive to see it and now she has her soulmates, her dads, and the rest of her beautiful found family to celebrate with her. Flashes of her past pass before her eyes and Grace combats them with the moments before they left the house today and the gift from her dads, Mama, and Uncle Taz.  

Tyler crashes into Grace’s legs and she’s surprised when he wants to be picked up and held by her, but she does it gladly. 

“You look pretty, Gracie.” He mutters. 

“Thank you, Ty; you look pretty handsome yourself.” She headbutts against his temple softly and smiles at his huffed out laugh. 

“He’s right mon calme, you look beautiful.” 

“Thanks Dad.” 

“We have a gift for you before we leave, something from all four of us as a graduation and acceptance to college present.” 

“Guys! No more presents! Y’all have already done way too much!” She protests, knowing it’s falling on deaf ears. 

“Hush mija, you deserve this for all of your hard work and it’s nothing we won’t do for the other children too, so stop worrying so much.” He kisses her temple, and she calms slightly. “You know what to do Tyler.” She gives Ty a look of betrayal as he smiles before covering her eyes with his little hands.

“Ty! I thought you were on my side.” He gives her another huffing laugh but stays quiet. 

Nancy grabs her hand and leads her outside and she can hear her sisters giggling and Taz shushing them. She feels herself smile as she hears Nancy whisper ‘now’ to Ty and he drops his hands from her eyes. Grace can’t help but start to cry as she sees the Honda hatchback sitting with a bow in the driveway.

Nancy takes Ty from her arms as she hugs both of her dads and cries. “Please say those are happy tears, mija.” 

“Dad, Papa esto es demasiado. Me encanta, gracias, os quiero a todo.” She mutters into Chris’s chest. 

“For all of your hard work, mon calme.” He leans down and whispers in her ear. “You deserve this; never forget how proud we are of you.”

“Grace?” She startles slightly but calms when she sees Jon and Claudio in the doorway. “Apologies, piccolina, I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

She clears her throat and shakes her head at him. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“You okay, Gracie Rose?” She nods enthusiastically. “Because you can talk to us.” 

She strides over to them and kisses their cheeks. “I know mis amores, but I promise I’m okay. It was really crowded, and I needed a second but now I need y’all and the family.” She smiles brightly, the gray thoughts completely gone now that her rays of sunshine were here to chase them away. 

“Yeah, I gotta get back to my buddy Tyler; I’m gonna get him to like me.”

“Moxie, you’ll win him over faster by not talking to him; treat him like you would treat you.” She rolls her eyes at Claudio before grabbing both men’s hands and going to find her family. 

“Are you ready for July, piccolina?” Claudio asks, changing the subject. 

“Yes! I can’t wait to come and stay with y’all for the month. Promise you won’t get tired of me at the end of it?” She asks only half joking. 

Jon stops all three of them and pulls her to them. “Let’s get one thing straight, yeah?” 

“Jon-.” Claudio drawls out and Grace stares up at Jon’s face with trepidation when he cuts Claudio off. 

“We are never going to get tired of you Gracelynn Rose; do you hear me? It may only be five months since we met but I would die before I would let anything happen to you or to Claudio. You’re stuck with us, alright darlin’?” At her slow nod he softens and drops his voice. “You and Claudio are the best things besides my sister that have ever happened to me, okay? Please never doubt that Gracie.” 

“I won’t ever doubt it, for either of you, I promise.” She states quietly and kisses both of them softly. 

Spanish: guapo: handsome es tan estúpido: it's just so stupid cariña: honey esto es demasiado. Me encanta, gracias, os quiero a todo: this is too much. I love it, thank you, I love you all mis amores: my loves

Italian: piccolina: little one bellissima: beautiful/gorgeous tesoro: darling

French: mon calme: my quiet one

Chapter 8! Sorry it's been a bit! I've been in a bit of a writing funk so I hope this gets some love! Hope to be back with some stories! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Much love! 😘

#everymilebetweenus #claudio/mox/grace #soulmarks #soulmates #grace parker #original character #found family #claudio castagnoli fanfic #jon moxley fanfic #jon moxley #claudio castagnoli

[fayyet]

Super Struggle Bros: Learning B0xx as a Melee Newbie, Pt. 2

This controller is a LOT to learn.

Once I got down how to “move” again but not run off the edge of the stage & die immediately (internalizing the placement of the jump button took time), I then had to learn that using Mod 1/2 (also referred to as mX/mY) allow my character to walk at two speeds while holding them. Turns out, you’ll need to be using those mX/mY buttons for special attacks as well, but only if you’re not in a full dash. Rookie stuff, but complicated thanks to this controller. After climbing over those hurdles, I then needed to internalize the general button layout. Understanding where Shielding (L/R) was was tricky. Not triggering accidental Specials (B) took time. Relearning the timing of short-hops was tough. Learning that I needed to move my fingers from top row to bottom row for wave dashing took getting used too, despite the benefits it has for certain characters. After a week, I felt that I was getting the basics down. Once I got to angles, my head exploded. Press pressing any of the 4 cardinal directions, you get an angle. Add in mX/mY with, say, holding Down and Left, you can change a 45 degree angle to either 30 degrees of 59.5. This is extremely important as it gives you access to new wavedash angles, recovery tools, etc. Now, with this in mind, lemme tell you that you can add any of the C-stick buttons in for extra precision. So, combining two directions + mX/mY + a C-stick button means you’re hitting 4 buttons in nearly a split second to land precise angles

It cannot be said that the mental stack of learning this controller on top of learning Melee, a fast & technical game with a 20+ year meta, complicated the learning curve for me, a beginner with nearly little experience with competitive games. This journey was just simply hard and frustrating at times! There’s a possibility that my overall progress has been slowed thanks to learning how to playing Melee in this unintended way. It didn’t help that I couldn’t really follow the logic of B0xx’s various design nerfs & considerations, as I didn’t have a deep knowledge of Melee to really understand the implications of 4f SDI lockouts, 2IP methods, etc. What’s really funny about all this is that B0xx is regarded as “questionably optimal” for Sheik, my chosen main. While explaining specifics is beyond the scope of this article, the various nerfs & button placements of default B0xx wind up being a detriment in some ways (nerfed Reaction Tech-chasing thanks to B0xx angles), and a blessing in others (easier access to tilts). This is unlike other characters like Fox, Falco, Marth, Puff, or Captain Falcon, who all experience few downsides on B0xx despite the nerfs to wavedashe lengths. In 2021, I had a huge heap of work in front of me, and the only remedy for all of this was a lot of extra work, studying, & time spent playing. Over time, not only has it become much easier to learn about new things B0xx provides (Melee is a deep game & this controller offers alternative ways to access the various tools & techniques found in the game), but this controller frankly is the only way I’ll ever play Smash Bros again. After all, to me, the Gamecube Controller is an input peripheral made for a console that was aimed at kids, not a tool intended to be used for thousands of hours by adults. To be fair, I did later learn all the ways I could be stretching & exercising my hands to be in optimal health, and there are great guides now that can help you learn how to put yourself in good health: This video below is actually pretty good. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8qtn_uoLQHQ For me, the B0xx was the only way I could have gotten into Melee. Even though learning B0xx was a struggle, at least my hands were not searing with pain throughout the process.

#melee #super smash bros #b0xx

[darling-i-read-it]

The Contract

Matt Murdock x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: violence, insinuations to smut

Author’s Note: i like to sit down and write matts name and see what comes out also FINALS ARE FINALLY OVER HALLELUJAH

Summary: A look through the moment you met Matt to the moment you found out he was Daredevil.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Foggy Nelson was hilarious. Did he ever really make sense? No. But that was okay because you were both in college and who the hell made sense around here. You sat at the bar counter, spinning around in your chair, laughing heartily.

“Don’t you have a test tomorrow?” you asked him through giggles. Foggy lifted his head, sweat falling off his forehead. His hair was sticking up in all sorts of places and his hand was lazily wrapped around an empty shot glass.

“Yeah but I’ll just cheat off Matt.” Laughter bubbled in his chest and spit out in a subconscious fit of giggles. Him laughing just made you laugh more. You were leaning over the counter, your heads almost touching. Foggy thought he might kiss you but even drunkenly he was able to hold back.

“Matt! All of this talk about the infamous Matt! When do I get to meet Matt?” Foggy shook his head, lifting his chin so that you were eye to eye.

“You aren’t gonna meet Matt,” he said, staring you down.

“Why am I not gonna meet Matt?!” you asked drunkenly.

“Because all the girls love Matt and you’re not allowed to be in love with him,” Foggy said. He pointed a finger on your chest. You looked down at his finger, shaking your head.

“I won’t. I promise. I wanna know what the fuss is all about!”

“You will.”

“How the hell do you know that?” you questioned. Foggy sat up all the way. You did so as well, mockingingly. His face went neutral and he waggled his finger again.

“Because you might be the only person Matt would love right back. I can’t risk that.”

“You’re making him sound far more intriguing then I’m sure he actually is.”

“If he and I are going to open up Nelson and Murdock together I cannot have you mess that up!” Foggy announced. He stood up, stumbling back on the stool. You put your hand over your mouth, watching his drunken escapade through emotions.

“Wait wait lemme get this straight,” you slurred. “I’m not allowed to meet Matt because you think we’ll get along so well we’ll get married?”

“Yup, pretty much.” You were quiet for a beat before bursting out into laughter.

“I don’t wanna get married Fog! Let alone to this random guy named Matt! Come on. Please?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Foggy!”

“No!”

“Franklin Nelson!”

“Don’t pull out my full name like that!”

===

“This is Y/N.” You shook Matt Murdock’s hand for the first time with a small smile on your face. There was a crisp chill in the air as you stood outside of the building he and Foggy were living in. Matt’s hand was firm. He was facing you with a small charming smile on his face.

“Nice to meet you Y/N. I’ve heard an obscene amount about you,” Matt said, sliding his hand out of yours gently. Damn, you thought. Foggy was fucking right.

“And I about you.”

“We’re Foggy’s only friends.”

“Law school does that to a person.” Foggy shook his head, grabbing your arm.

“See? You’re already ganging up on me. I’m taking her away and you won’t be able to tell where because you’re blind.”

“That’s actually cruel Fog,” Matt said, pivoting on his foot to the direction Foggy was attempting to drag you.

“Hey, bite the bullet Nelson. I promise I won’t jump his bones within the next 24 hours.”

“So the 24 after that are open for negotiation?” Matt questioned.

“Oh you’re good.” Foggy let your hand fall. He opened up his over the shoulder bag, pulling out crumbled papers. Matt straightened his back, leading you to believe he knew what Foggy was pulling out. “Is it a marriage license?” Foggy shook his head quickly, handing you the paper.

“A contract.”

“Oh?” you asked, laughter bubbling out of your lips.

“Saying you two won’t date.” You looked down at it. It was three pages long, front and back.

“Did you do this for one of your lawyer classes?”

“Yeah that’s beside the point. Look, the last page is in braille hand that to Matt.” You handed it over. You started to read, though he had glossed most of it over with fancy lawyer talk. You turned it around, reading the back.

“You put a date on this. You say here that we can date in exactly two months,” you said.

“That’s more of a guideline. The mock assignment had time restrictions.”

“It also says we are not allowed to get married ever. If we can’t date then how would we get married?” Matt questioned.

“I’m making precautions. I’m thinking ahead, you two should try it.” You pulled a pen out of your purse.

“Matt be a dear and turn around.” He turned. You put the paper on his back and signed it.

“May I borrow a pen darling?” Matt questioned. You handed it to him and turned around for him. He signed the paper in the middle, not bothering to find out where the line was. You handed the papers to Foggy.

“I’ll be filing this somewhere secret.”

“You do that,” you said, laughing. “Can we go get those drinks now?” ===

Your finger trailed down Matt’s bare chest. He was facing the ceiling, breathing evenly. Your head rested on his shoulder. You tried to match his breathing, counting the careful movements in and then out. Your finger made random patterns onto his pecs. He had his arm around you, landing on your hip.

“What is today?” he asked. You shrugged, writing his name into his chest. It seemed to be the only thought on your mind.

“January something. Why?”

“Check please.” You let out a sigh and turned around, his hand slipping off you. You checked the calendar on the wall that had all of Foggy’s test dates.

“January 16th.” You turned back to Matt. He had a hidden, mischievous tug of a smile on his face. “What? Why are you making that face?”

“We get to tell Foggy tomorrow.”

“Huh?” “The contract. We signed it on November 17th.” Your eyes went wide, returning your head to it’s rightful spot on his chest.

“I forgot. I just figured we were gonna be sneaking around the rest of our lives.” Matt opened his mouth to speak but quickly shut it again. You watched his face turn focused. He had this determination in his brows as he listened for something.

“Foggy’s back early.”

“Fuck!” You jumped out of his bed, looking around for your clothes. “Where are my clothes?” “Is this a bad time to remind you I’m blind?” “You sure don’t act like it,” you muttered, the memories of twenty minutes ago flooding your stomach.

“I can imagine the smile you have right now.”

“Are you not gonna help?” He sat up.

“It’s too late.” You had on your shirt and underwear when the dorm room opened.

The entire room stopped. Foggy saw you before he saw Matt in bed but his imagination finalized the picture of the room. You slowly stood up, like moving slower would cause you to be invisible. You cleared your throat, holding pants in your hands.

“Those are mine,” Matt said.

“So now you wanna remember where the clothes are in this room?” you asked. “Hey Fog…”

Foggy didn’t say anything. He walked past you to the desk by his bed. He opened it up and shuffled through the multitude of assignments. He pulled out a paper.

“You couldn’t wait, one more day?!” He flashed the contract in your face. You winced, rubbing your arm.

“Actually…” Matt started. You jumped onto his bed, covering his mouth.

“Oh you fucking assholes,” Foggy said. “When did you start sleeping together?!” You slowly removed your hand from Matt’s mouth. You shifted so you were sitting beside him. You looked down at your hands.

“Well do you remember when we went out to the bar last November-”

“The night I had you sign this contract?!”

“No, we just kissed that night,” Matt explained.

“In my defense,” you said. “Uh I signed your name Foggy.” Foggy paused, processing the information. He looked down at the paper.

“Matt, you didn’t even sign this. You scribbled on it,” Foggy said.

“Yeah well my heart wasn’t exactly in it.”

“Yeah, no, your heart was in my friend's vagina!”

“It wasn’t his hea-”

“Are you in love?”

There was a loud silence in the room. You and Matt hadn’t talked much about your feelings. He had been a gentleman ever since the night you met. You kinda knew Foggy was gonna be right. Foggy wasn’t wrong often. You were in love with him. You eyed Matt, trying to read his emotions, willing him to speak first. Foggy waited impatiently.

“Yeah,” Matt said finally, quietly, preparing for whatever hell Foggy was about to reign.

“And you?” Foggy asked, gesturing to you with the contract.

“Mhm.”

You expected a string of cuss words, followed quickly by more yelling about everything. But Foggy just sat down on his bed across from the two of you and was quiet. He tossed the contract onto the floor.

“We didn’t want to hurt you,” you promised.

“You’re really lucky I slept with Marci Stahl today otherwise I would be a hell of a lot madder.” Your face lit up. Matt couldn’t help the chuckle that rose in his chest.

“Marci Stahl?” Matt asked.

“I don’t know either.” Foggy met your eyes. You scrunched your face, putting your hand on Matt’s thigh. Foggy nodded.

“I fucking knew you two were gonna be soulmates. You’re not allowed to be the receptionist at Nelson and Murdock.” You leaned against the wall, giggling. Matt put his hand on yours. “No in office romances.”

===

“What do you want to talk about?” Foggy asked as Matt shut the door to the office. “Because if it’s about this case, I refuse to bend. We need to make sure she pleas out.”

“It’s not about the case.”

Foggy nodded, pushing his hair behind his ear. He leaned against the wall.

“Okay then what’s so urgent?” Matt paused, seemingly thinking. His fingers drummed his pocket. Foggy crossed his arms, waiting. Finally Matt pulled out some papers from his pocket. He handed them to Foggy. “What is this?”

“I wanted to renegotiate the contract.”

“The contr-” Foggy paused, laughing. “You kept his?”

“Yeah. It had sentimental value.” Foggy shook his head, reading through the words he had written all those years before.

“I was really awful at writing contracts,” he mused. “What is it you want to renegotiate? You and Y/N have been dating for years.”

“Page two of Y/N’s page, paragraph seven.” Foggy turned it over and his eyes scanned the page. He raised his head, the words sinking in.

“Are you serious?”

“Hey, I figured I would ask you before I popped the question.” Foggy put his hand over his mouth, shaking his head.

“Yeah. Yeah, go ahead. Holy shit dude.” Matt adjusted his feet, his mouth twitching.

“Do I need to re-sign something? Revise the contract?”

“No, I think you’re okay.”

You knocked on the office door, not bothering to wait for them to answer before walking in.

“Hey, can we go? I wanna get food before that Chinese place closes down Matthew.” He turned, nodding. You sensed the tension in the room and straightened your back. “Everything okay in here?”

“Yeah,” Foggy said. “Just revisiting some legal contracts.” You nodded slowly. Matt held his hand out and you took it. The weight of his hand in yours was comforting.

“Don’t work too hard Nelson. We still on for drinks tomorrow night?”

“Yes ma’am. Can’t wait to wheel you two drunk messes back to your apartment before foreplay starts,” Foggy said. You gave him a sarcastic smile.

“Foreplay starting and regular flirting ending is a blur my dear Foggy,” you said. Foggy rolled his eyes.

“Go on you two or else I’ll throw up.”

===

“I actually told them they couldn’t get married.” You chuckled softly, resting your hand on Matt’s. He had his hand on your thigh, though you could barely feel it on your skin through the thick white dress. Matt shook his head, facing Foggy’s direction.

“Maybe making him my best man was the wrong idea,” he muttered, turning his head to you so that most people couldn’t see his lips moving. You snorted.

“I’m kinda eager to see where this is going,” you whispered back.

“I had a crush on Y/N when we met.” Your eyes went wide. You had no idea about that. You tried to think back that far, remembering the nights where it was just you and Foggy at the bars. It seemed like a lifetime ago. “I actually brought…” he pulled out a piece of paper. “This contract. It is the one I had the two of them sign the day they met. Right here is the signature of my dear friends at the fancy table. It says they aren’t allowed to get married. Clearly they broke that rule.” The guests laughed gently. “Poor taste for my lawyer friend.” Matt smiled his charming smile, the one that had made you fall in love with him in the first place. You raised your hand and brushed his lip for no particular reason, your finger brushing his stubble.

He really was the prettiest man you knew.

Matt grabbed your hand and kissed it.

“Look at this. They’re absolutely adorable. It’s disgusting.” You turned back to Foggy, having almost forgotten he was speaking. “Yes I’m still up here, doing the thing I was asked to do.”

“I never asked,” Matt said.

“Well it comes in the best man contract.” “We are very loose about contracts here,” you said, patting Matt’s hand. Foggy rolled his eyes.

“Matt could probably break every law and she would still be backing him up.”

===

You sat on the couch, tears pricking your eyes.

“I told you not to date a lawyer,” Matt whispered. He was laying down on the couch, shirt off, cuts lining his chest. You had your hand on his bicep, staring at his face like you could will him to see how hurt you are.

“This has nothing to do with you being a lawyer and you know it,” you whispered. “Does Foggy know you’re Daredevil?”

“No. You’re the only one.” “How long did you think you were gonna hide it from me?”

“Honestly about a week.” You scoffed, wiping the tears from your eyes. You took your hand off of him and he visibly moved, wondering where you were going. He tried to use his senses, trying to find out what you were doing before you did it but he was so clouded by worry that he couldn’t really figure it out. The not knowing pained him.

Finally your hand hovered above his chest. You took a deep breath and very gently, almost not at all, outlined the fresh cuts.

“Do you know what I told Foggy when I convinced him to get us to meet?” you asked, voice far away.

“No,” he breathed.

“I told him I didn’t want to get married, let alone to some random guy named Matt.” He would have laughed if he wasn’t so scared. Was this the end? The end of his great love story? He tried to save those screams in Hell's Kitchen but at what cost? He had thought about telling you and Foggy. Foggy would be scared but he wouldn’t back down. But you...he couldn’t tell with you. Did you love him enough to stay? “But I did marry you.”

“I remember.”

“Shut up Matt.” He closed his mouth, determined to never speak again. “Those people, they hurt my husband.” You shook your head, looking down at the scratches from knives far too sharp. “They hurt my husband's glorious chest.” Matt smiled a little. “They’re bad people?”

“Very bad.” You took a deep breath. You put your head on his arm and he took a leap of faith, reaching forward and putting his hand on the back of your head, thumb rubbing your hair.

“If I lose you I don’t know if I can come back from that.”

“Let’s make a new contract. Say, if I die, you get to spit on my grave.”

“Mhm and if someone takes me hostage to get to the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, you get to never remarry.”

“Deal.” You kissed him. He breathed relief into you, hand cupping your cheek. You could get through this together. You didn’t break that contract for no reason.

Marvel Tag List: @dpaccione, @demonchick1, @karasong, @elisaa-shelby, @lov3vivian, @russian-soft-bitch, @alexxavicry, @valentina-luvs-u, @demigirl-with-problems

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagines

[elysianslove]

omg wait ok who in jjk do you think is an ass, thigh or tits person?? also congrats on 4k thats so sexc of u!!! you're so talented you deserve every one of them <33 MWAH

bb thank you so much ily so much <333 kiss kiss mwah <333 and! thank you for asking this i have been waiting for this ask to come into my inbox. warning; suggestive and mentions of nsfw

ITADORI YUUJI is an ass person. aside from the fact that it’s canon, i see him as someone that’s just mesmerized with ass. loves seeing it in jeans, or those patterned loose pants yk the one that make everyone’s ass jiggle, or in a tight dress, or in booty shorts. and not just that! he loves to be touching you too. as his s/o, you are never free from his groping hands. loves to lift you up and just place his hands on your ass, to ‘keep you steady’ or whatever, and also loves to lay on your ass if you’re on your stomach. makes you laugh so it jiggles against his head/cheek. he’s a bit too shy to smack your ass in public, but catch him doing it all the time at home. like as you’re passing by him or standing there minding your business. or just always having a handful of your ass when you two are sitting down/cuddling. definitely fake fucks you when you bend over too just saying. 

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI i see more as a tits kinda guy. he says doesn’t have a preference, but that all changes when he sees you in a low-cut revealing shirt. he’s a respectful guy so he will be trying not to look. it doesn’t really work though. it’s not that he doesn’t like ass or thighs, it’s more that whenever he sees your tits it goes to his dick a lot quicker lmao. he loves, loves, loves it when you don’t wear a bra, no matter the shirt you wear, no matter your breast size, and if it’s see through as well? consider him dead. oh and megumi’s hands are large. i’m not saying he has a size kink but, there’s just something about the way they look against your breasts. also! he really likes,,, just, kinda, fondling with them. holding them, groping them, as he’s sitting there. it’s fun. and warm. also adores stuffing his face against your chest, even if you have small tits, he just likes it. it’s all about the intimacy of laying on your lover’s naked chest for him <3 

KUGISAKI NOBARA is definitely a tits kinda girl. like no questions, no criticisms, nothing just vibes and titties. she loves the way they look, the way they feel, in her hands, in her mouth, literally anything and everything. considering she has breasts too, she knows just how comforting it is to hold onto them just randomly. if you have big breasts, she’s in heaven as she stuffs her face against them, nothing nsfw just cause. if you have small breasts, she’s still in heaven as she just sucks on them as a stress reliever. she’s like a toddler when she’s stressed like ‘lemme suck on your tiddies pls’ lmfao. also!! she is a fashion icon, an star, an idol, she knows the type of clothes that look flattering and which don’t. also she loves to go bra shopping with you just so she can get into the changing room and start groping and bouncing your breasts to test out the bra, as she claims. but yes, she’s a titties girl! 

RYOMEN SUKUNA is, if not an all kinda guy, a thighs man. wears them like ear muffs lmfao. his infatuation was first purely nsfw, and he would show it by constantly leaving bruises all over them, marking you, whether it was from his tight, vice like grip, or from his mouth. but then over time it became just genuine love and fascination, especially after that one time you had whined at him after sex to just massage your sore thighs for you. he’d begrudgingly agreed, but then he ended up loving the feel of kneading them in his strong hands. and after growing comfortable with cuddling, his favorite position is just where his head is in between your thighs and your ankles are crossed at his chest. he can stay like that for hours honestly. also he likes to have his hands resting there, squeezing every once in a while. but, like i said, sukuna just likes your body in general. 

INUMAKI TOGE was a little more difficult to decide, and i’m still not that sure of this, but i think he’d be an ass person, just because i think he’s lowkey very touchy with his s/o and he’d like to just— rest his hands there all the time. likes it when the two of you are cuddling and you leg is lifted up across him, allowing him to settle his hand on the curve of your ass. also he’s lowkey a very cheeky person when it comes to his s/o, so i can just imagine as you’re laying down on your tummy, he pats your ass and every time it jiggles he giggles to himself lightly. also the type to rest against his s/o’s ass just cause but he would actually fall asleep like that. also! whenever he’s resting like that, he likes to give your ass a little peck, just a small smooch, a token of appreciation if you will, before he pats where he kissed lightly, and in his own way he just says, “nice :D.” 

GOJŌ SATORU. ass. ass. ass. ass. ass. ass man! is absolutely in love with your ass. smacks it in public with zero shame, just sends a teasing grin your way, and like, finger guns at you with a wink or something. when you walk past him at home in shorts or like only your underwear, he likes to give it a nice little pat. every single time. and when you bend over while he’s sitting on the couch or laying on the bed or something, he calls out in the cheekiest, most teasing, most annoying voice, “nice.” i hate his sexy ass sm. does tiktoks with you that include you throwing it back on him because he wants to give you reason to. loves to watch you put on your clothes, especially jeans, when you like jump in them. he’s just a pervert with a license to constantly hit on you. 

NANAMI KENTŌ is also definitely an ass man. look at him. tell me he doesn’t love ass. loves to fondle and grope it all the time, no matter where you are, and he’s very good at making it look subtle too so he gets away with doing in public too. nanami strikes me as someone that’s slightly possessive, not unhealthily so, but he does always like to subtle hand on you whenever the two of you are out, and more often than not his hand’s resting right above your ass. also he’s a very giving partner, in all ways, so i see him offering to give you massages all the time. definitely lingers on your ass, kneading strongly yet softly, even if you don’t need it? he just likes to do it. is not as open about it as the others, but he’s very obvious about it hehe

ZENIN MAKI is a thighs girl. also is the type to love stuffing her face in between them, but it’s a fixation kinda thing where she cannot stop ogling at your legs, specifically your thighs. loves to grope and squeeze at them all the time, and her all time favorite thing is seeing you in thigh highs, where the stockings squeeze at your thighs just a little. it makes her mind cloud over. 

ZENIN MAI is a a tits girl. i was thinking maybe she’s an ass girl, but i’m so certain she wouldn’t be able to take her eyes off of you or your cleavage if you wore anything to show off your breasts. definitely likes to lay on your chest and kiss and suckle on them, just randomly. also kinda a possessive thing, cause she will absolutely leave marks. she just. loves your tits okay? 

GETŌ SUGURU is an ass man. loves seeing you all dressed up in outfits that show your ass off, and almost always he won’t really touch, not unless the two of you were really intimate, but he looks. he looks so much, and he makes it so obvious that he’s checking you out. in public, at home, doesn’t matter. he’ll be eyeing you up and down and will have this sultry smirk as he glances at your ass. kinda hot ngl.

MAHITO is also a little bit tricky because i want to say ass, but i also want to say tits. somewhere in between ass and tits then. he has like,,, moods for them you know. sometimes he won’t stop ogling at your breasts, and other times he can’t keep his hands off your ass. either way, he’s very teasing about it, and he will buy you really provocative clothes to show both off. so kind <3

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #itadori yuuji x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #gojo satoru x reader #inumaki x reader #nobara x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #zenin maki x reader #zenin mai x reader #geto x reader #mahito x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

[outoftheframework]

my proposal for tropes we as a fandom should adopt in all fanworks going forward: Duke Thomas edition

So every fandom has tropes and characterization quirks that have been generally accepted into fanon and, like, maybe? they were originally based on some obscure comic panel from the 80s or something but it doesn’t really matter because we’re all just,,, cool with it? Like for example- in the dc comics fandom, an art piece could show 3 of the bats that look virtually identical except one of them is holding a box of cereal so that one is obviously Dick Grayson. . . Y’know?

Anyway, these things usually come up naturally I guess but I’ve been here a while and it’s finally time to put my foot down. It’s high time for Duke Thomas to be more in fanon than “the sane one.” Because he might be the relatively new guy but he is certainly fears no gods or laws of the land just as much as the other bats, lemme tell ya. 

TL;DR here are character quirks (”canon-based” or otherwise) that we should all really latch onto seriously I’m begging y’all to make at least one of these happen-

Duke “Habitually Jumping Out of Moving Vehicles” Thomas

This one’s actually based in canon y’all; Duke did indeed yeet himself out of the back of a cop car and off of a bridge (in We Are... Robin). Normalize Duke’s wearing knee and elbow pads as Signal because jumping out of a car turns out relatively fine once and then suddenly Batman’s rooftop disappearing act seems mellow compared to the amount of times Gordon has whipped his head around to see a now Signal-less backseat. 

Like, he’s going 60 mph?? And he didn’t even hear the door open?? and tHE DOORS ARE STILL LOCKED??

Imagine this leaking into civilian life and Bruce waking up to a blurry photo of Duke mid-escape from a limousine on the front page of the Gotham Gazette.

(more under cut)

Duke “Puzzles are my Passion” Thomas

Duke is ~canonically~ very skilled at both solving and concocting riddles (as a child during that time where The Riddler just,,, controlled Gotham, he worked non-stop on riddles, trying to make the perfect one). Please y’all- let Duke solve puzzles. Have the other bats ask him for help after 36 hours straight of brooding over some brainteaser that Duke works out within the half-hour. He texts a picture of the solution scribbled out on loose leaf in the margins of his pre-calc homework because this boy shows his work. 

My guy is a word-cross FIEND. A mind-sweeper speed-runner. That guy who mails into the Gazette to correct a solution in the “fun & games” section and also ps that photo is not of me I am simply a polite young man who is much too busy writing into the paper in the year 2021 to jump out of limos-

I also would love to see this integrated into the type of cases he investigates / runs into on his daytime patrol. Like, obviously the criminal activity is going to dramatically differ before and after sundown, but that doesn’t make Duke’s work any easier or less important. It’s a different skillset; he has to work differently. Instead of jumping into fights, halting mob meetings, saving civilians in dark allies, etc. Duke has to sort through all of the moving pieces before they all converge into something catastrophic. 

It’s a known fact that criminal organizations in Gotham make and execute a lot of behind-the-scenes plans during the day specifically not to run into the bats. And Duke knows and monitors this shit all by himself; his work is crucial to logistics and information gathering for the bats as a whole. Now criminals have like, a 2 hour gap between bat-shifts to try and get stuff done. But Duke would 100% set traps on timers or lead them on this pre-set convoluted goose chase  to distract them until the night bats come out and to let himself enjoy the whole thing playing out on the news while he finishes homework that’s due at midnight.

Duke “I Know a Guy” Thomas

So in going off of the basic concept for the “We Are. . . Robin” run in combination to his general likability, Duke has a lot of friends all around Gotham. Okay, sure, he doesn’t have a Super best friend or a Speedster on speed dial, but he does know this guy who details cars up on West 35th and will tell them all about the new mods on Black Mask’s transport vans if they come through the third floor window and bring takeout. 

Bruce and Tim will be waiting for the facial recognition software to identify at least a partial match off of security cam footage when Duke pulls into the cave, takes one look at the screen, and says “Oh, that’s <insert name, address, abridged life story, and known associates here>.” This also brings in the opportunity for Duke to have some sort of perfect recall for faces, voices, names, etc. which I think could be a really cool element for his position as the batfamily member who has a lot more personal interaction with the people of Gotham.

I’m also into the idea of a lot of people knowing/telling stories about Duke. Not to reference the Chuck Norris meme but almost like the Chuck Norris meme lmao. Think about Jason mentioning his brother to someone and she replies, “Duke Thomas? Like that Duke Thomas? The one who swam across the harbor because he said it’d be faster than the subway and it actually was?” These stories have varying levels of truth to them but Duke will never confirm nor deny when he gets random calls from family members yelling “you dID WHAT”

So those are my top three, and the following is a little speed-round of headcanons :)

Duke has a super expressive face. Like when he’s relaxed around family, you can tell exactly what he’s thinking and how he’s feeling by his visual reactions to things

Duke rotates through picking up new and revisiting old hobbies at a pretty rapid pace. Some hobbies include: bullet journaling, origami, viola, cello, synth, conversational basics in multiple languages, up-cycling and embroidering clothes

Duke has a really fucking adorable smile. He can’t help it. He’ll try to grin sarcastically or smug to be annoying but his smile just cannot be anything other than endearing. He also has a very specific booming laugh that’s an absolute treasure to hear, because it’s the most genuinely happy thing ever. 

Duke unironically enjoys Signal by Twice even though the first time he heard it was after Steph had set it as his morning alarm.

So.

Come and get your food, I guess.

Feel free to add on if you’d like! I’d love to see anything you guys write/draw/etc. based on anything from here if you feel compelled to do so!

Stay safe and be well :) 

#duke thomas #the signal #signal #batman #dc comics #duke thomas fanfiction #duke thomas headcanons #dc #batfam #batfamily #batfamily fanfiction #dick grayson #Bruce Wayne #Tim Drake #Stephanie Brown #Jason Todd #gotham city #Duke Thomas-wayne #i love him your honor #headcanons

[daydreamstew]

(did I sent you one already? who cares yolo) brio + 58

thank you, paloma!! 💕🥰 look at you trying to get me to write angst! HA! enjoy my first ever college au instead 🤪

58. “I made a mistake.”

“I made a mistake,” Beth blurts out as soon as the door to Rio’s room swings open.

Her pleading eyes meet his sleep-bleary ones, blinking from the fluorescent lights of their rundown dorm hallway. He must’ve still been sleeping.

That’s when she glances down, eyes going wide when she realizes that the only thing he’s wearing is basketball shorts, sitting low on his hips revealing that v muscle thing and a happy trail leading to, well, a morning wood situation even though it’s the afternoon.

Her gaze darts back up to Rio, now sporting a smug grin and raised eyebrows, but she just squares her shoulders in spite of the flush she can feel blotting her cheeks.

“Yeah, what’d you do?” he asks, eyes dipping down to look her over like always.

“I forgot to bring my key with me when I left for class and the door locked behind me and now I’m locked out and my notes for my comp gov exam are in there and I can’t study without them and I need an A on it to bump my grade up,” she explains in one breath, eyes wide.

Rio shifts to lean against his door frame, his muscles rippling from the movement and she has to stop herself from staring for too long because she cannot be looking at him, another fellow RA, like that. That’s how she got into this mess in the first place.

“Yeah, see this is why you should just type your notes like the rest of us, darlin’,” he responds, wagging his pointer finger at her.

“I-,” she starts, before stopping to take a deep breath to calm herself.

God, it’s just like Rio to try to push her buttons like this. It’s almost like he enjoys it.

“Studies show that you learn more when you physically write down the information, Rio,” she replies, voice sickly sweet.

He hums out a noise, chest rumbling and, shit, her eyes glance down again.

Pull it together, Marks!

“Aight so you need your notes. Why can’t you just ask your boyfriend for the spare key to your room? Ain’t he working in the office right now?” he asks.

Her eyes glance down to the stained carpet, avoiding looking at him. Because, yes, Dean is the one scheduled to be in the RA office right now. She knows his work schedule like the back of her hand. But-

“We actually broke up,” she breathes out, feigning being casual.

But it’s not casual. Not at all. Because Dean had-

Well, he’d cheated on her with Amber from back home, who is still a senior in high school. Which—ew. And she can barely handle looking at him, but she has to anyway because they’re both RA’s for the same dorm complex and he has seniority over her since he’s a senior and she just can’t ask him for a favor right now. Can’t fathom using the word please to the guy that has made her feel so worthless.

But she doesn’t say all that to Rio because as much as they’re friends, as much as they enjoy talking shit and studying together in the lounge, as much as they’ve bonded over their Detroit upbringings and other more serious stuff—like them both losing a parent young and the responsibilities they have back home—she doesn’t want him to know the details of this.

Because, even though she knows it’s not her fault, she still feels this aching feeling of shame every time she thinks about it. And she’s terrified that the knowledge may change the way Rio looks at her. Like he may look at her and see what she sees right now. A girl that wasn’t enough.

“Oh yeah? What’d that asshole do now?” he asks, voice dripping with disdain.

He’s always hated Dean. She could always see a spark of something in Rio’s eyes whenever Dean fucked up.

She clears her throat, eyes looking everywhere but him.

“It’s nothing, okay? We’re done and I don’t really want to ask him for anything right now,” she says with a shrug.

“Elizabeth,” Rio says, voice now serious.

She’s not sure why she came to him. She has other RA friends she could’ve asked that would’ve made this less difficult. She would’ve explained that she and Dean broke up and they would’ve given her a look of pity and an I’m so sorry and moved on.

It’s just that as much as he gives her shit, he really is always there for her. He’s the one that got one of his sketchy friends to scare off that guy that wouldn’t stop harassing her and texting her. He’s the one that stayed up helping her work through her calculus practice exam during midterms while Dean went to Logan’s party. He’s the one that held her when she broke down in tears from stress over classes and work and Annie struggling in high school.

“Please just help me with this okay? I need to get my notes or else I’m gonna fail and then the next thing you know I’ll be dropping out and moving home and then who are you gonna pick on all the time? You’re gonna have to start teasing Jeremy or something,” she rushes out.

He sighs out a reluctant laugh and nods.

“Nah can’t be having that. That kid’s weird as fuck,” he jokes.

She smiles at him softly and he rolls his eyes.

“Okay so what do you need me to do?” he asks.

“All I need is for you to sneak into the drawer on the bottom right that holds the keys while I distract him,” she explains.

“Yeah and how you gonna do that?” he questions, eyebrows raised.

She looks down and reaches into her tank top to readjust her boobs for optimal cleavage before straightening her posture and beaming at him with a smug smile.

His grin is crooked and his eyes are glazing over as he eyes the trap she just set. When his perusal lasts longer than usual and he bites at his lip, eyes still on her chest, she smacks at his arm.

“Hey!” she exclaims, but she’s smiling.

He throws his head back in laughter.

“Yeah, that fool ain’t gonna know what hit him,” Rio replies, shaking his head.

She giggles.

“Aight lemme just put a hoodie on,” Rio says, slipping into his room.

She follows and smiles when she sees his normally perfectly made bed rumpled from his sleep.

He’s throwing on some shoes and grabbing his keys, looking like he’s just about ready to leave when she stops him, grabbing his wrist.

“Wait,” she starts.

“What?” he asks.

“Your..situation,” she mutters out, eyes glancing down to his groin. “Aren’t you gonna...take care of it?”

She can’t bring herself to be more specific. She thinks she may simply combust if he makes her spell it out.

He licks at his lips and looks down at his erection, still holding strong.

“Why? You don’t want Deansie to think we were in the middle of something?”

She laughs nervously.

“No,” she insists.

“Okay then you wanna help me take care of it?” he teases.

And he’s joking, but she can’t help the warmth she feels in her gut at even the thought of touching Rio like that.

“No thanks,” she squeaks out.

“Mm so polite,” he rasps, eyes dark.  

He hesitates before asking almost tentatively, “Maybe next time?”

His eyes dart to her lips briefly before returning to her gaze.

And, god, what’s wrong with her? She just broke up with Dean and her and Rio are friends. Good ones. And she doesn’t want to risk losing someone else.

But she can’t help herself from biting at her lip and saying, “Yeah. Maybe next time.”

His mouth parts slightly and he’s breathing heavier and she is too.

Something about the way they’re looking at each other is changing by the second, their vision clearing without a Dean-sized obstacle blocking the way. Revealing to her a possibility she hadn’t even fully considered.

She glances down to his lips and suddenly she’s thinking about how he could take care of her, so she clears her throat and takes a couple of steps away from him before she does something stupid like kiss him.

“How ‘bout we watch something for a minute? While it, uh, takes care of itself?” he suggests, gently mocking her prudeness.

As she climbs into his just slept-in sheets, she realizes that despite having watched hundreds of hours of tv together, they’ve never done it in his bed. They usually do it in the lounge, but they may have to switch this to their usual spot. It smells far better.

And if as they settle in for an episode of New Girl they’ve seen a dozen times, she shifts closer until she’s pressed into his side, and if he tentatively wraps his arm around her shoulder like they’re two fifteen-year-olds on their first date, and if she wordlessly hits play on the next episode so he doesn’t stop playing with her hair, then so be it.

The notes can wait. It’s still early. They have time. She’s good where they are right now—an “enough” with someone who looks at her like she’s more than.

#girl i’m a mess #this got so long #and i have so many prompts #THANK YOU to everyone who sent them in 🥺 #sorry if i don’t get to them! #my writing #prompts #angst/fluff prompts #asks #dragonturtle #brio #brio fanfiction #nbc good girls

[dw-writes]

32 for henry sturges :3

so, for anyone who doesn’t know, Henry Sturges is a character played by Dominic cooper in the movie Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter, and one of the main characters in the novel by the same name, while being the main character in the sequel, The Last American Vampire. sadly, the author of those novels is The Worst (TM) and i am now claiming this character as my own and will treat him kindly

i love him so fucking MUCH

I HOPE YOU ENJOY LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK

Saying “I love you”....in a way that I can’t return.

There were parts of your memory that were hazy – days that were missing as you tried to remember why you were in pain, why you were tired, when you had fallen asleep. You remembered the better parts – the parts where you accepted a new job as a personal assistant, where you met your stupidly rich boss, where you found him weird and obnoxious and meeting every cliché that you had ever read about.

You especially remembered the part where you discovered that he was a vampire. That was important.

You shifted, the smooth surface of expensive sheets sliding against your skin. They were soft, and smelled lovely, and you recognized the scent as the one that Henry used for everything that could be washed. It was an older scent, one that wasn’t really made anymore, that he got from a little store on the other side of the city. It was one of the few things that he did personally.

Burying your nose into the pillow, you let out a sigh. At least you knew you were home, and comfortable.

A damp washcloth traced over your temple, down your cheek, and around the back of your neck.

“You’re alright,” whispered a familiar voice, one tinged with accent so faint it could never be placed, “You’re safe.”

You dreamed about that vivid memory of discovery. Henry Sturges had centuries of practice of keeping his identity a secret, something that, if you had been more observant, you would have noticed at lot sooner. But even someone with centuries of experience under his belt was prone to forgetfulness, and that was something that plagued him that day – he had forgotten his own set of keys to the house when he had set off on his usual journey across the city. He’d only realized it when he was too far gone and had called you to get the keys for him.

“If you could,” he had added, “If you aren’t too busy.”

“Of course,” you replied, “I’ll bring them to you.”

You failed to tell him that you, too, were on the opposite side of the city, and that it would take you longer than expected to take the keys to him. That was why you had arrived at the store after closing time, found it unlocked, and discovered Henry hauling a man clean off the ground with one hand, while bearing a mouth full of gleaming shards of bone. He dropped the man when you shouted at him to stop, failed to see you grab a pipe to swing at his skull.

(The memory bubbled up in your dream, descending upon you as though through a fog.)

You held the pipe with both hands, standing between Henry and the stairs leading up into the convenience store. Henry held his head between both hands, groaning, doubling over his knees. The other man, the store own, was still crumbled on the ground, unharmed, but unconscious.

“You hit me!” Henry shouted, “You actually hit me!”

“What do you expect?!” you snapped, “You? What are you?!”

He stumbled as he straightened, examining his fingers, then touched his head again. He stepped towards you.

You lifted the pipe over your shoulder, ready to strike again, yelling out nonsense.

“Don’t hit me again!” he cried.

“Get back!” you shrieked, “Get? Back! And answer my question!”

“Put the pipe down,” he said instead.

“Answer me!”

“Put the pipe down!”

“Answer the fucking question, Henry!” you paused, “If that’s your real name.”

His mouth dropped open with a scoff. You brandished the pipe as he stepped closer, stuttering out a disgusted, “I can’t believe the distrust! The suspicion!” He was on you in the literal blink of an eye, gently prying the pipe from between your clenched fingers like it was nothing. He tossed it away. The comical hurt he had previously worn was gone as he said, “I’m a vampire.” He squeezed your shoulders and set you on the steps. “Stay here a moment? I’ll be right back.”

(He’d left the poor store clerk – Seth, you remembered his name being – with a stack of journals, then swept you away back to his home – your home, the place where he provided you with a room of your own and asked for no rent at all – to sit you down and explain what he could.)

A hand gingerly pressed against your cheek, turning your head enough towards the owner to allow them to drip a warm liquid between your lips. It was bitter, with an aftertaste you couldn’t describe, and you twisted your head away from it.

A warm sigh tumbled across your face. “This is something you’ll have to get used to,” whispered a familiar voice, “And it won’t be easy, I can promise you that. But I’ll be there every step of the way.” A word caught on his voice, scratching in your ear as he cleared his throat. A pair of lips brushed over your temple.

Those words were so familiar. It took you a moment – a moment in which you fell back into a deep slumber – but you recalled where you’d heard them. You had said them, years before, when Seth had approached Henry about a biography. You remembered finding him pacing the first floor of his town house, reading over a letter that you assumed was from the author in question, swearing beneath his breath as he wore a path in the floor.

You told him so as you leaned on the banister, giving him an easy smile. He merely stared at you – you would have called it a glare if you hadn’t known him so well – and waved the paper in your direction.

“He wants to interview me,” he grumbled.

“I think that’s been done before,” you countered.

Henry crumbled the paper and tossed it in your direction. You ducked the projectile with a laugh, almost missing his scathing comment about your mocking. “That was a terrible joke!” he said with a huff, “Awful.”

“You’ll have to get used to it,” you said as you sat on the stairs, “Especially if people take what you say to heart – what the book says to heart.” Henry sat on the stairs, leaning back against the wall to look up at you. You reached out to run your fingers through his clean, un-styled hair. “It won’t be easy; I can promise you that. But I’ll be here for all of it. If you want.”

He leaned into your hand with a miniscule, unnecessary sigh. “I cannot imagine anyone else helping me with this,” he whispered.

You quirked an eyebrow. “Not even the man you trusted your beloved Abe’s journals to?”

(The quip earned you a gentle pinch, and eyeroll, and a smile only you were truly welcome to.)

You had rolled in your sleep, or had been moved, into a position that was startlingly comfortable. You turned your face further into the soft fabric under your cheek.

“Are you awake?” asked Henry, his voice surprisingly close to your ear while whatever you laid on rumbled with his words. Your eyes fluttered. A finger brushed over each of them, brushing the crust from your lashes. You wrinkled your nose. “You are awake,” he whispered, “Take your time. You’ve been through a lot.”

“What happened?” you croaked. You smacked your lips together and groaned; your mouth tasted awful. You rolled away from Henry’s tender hold, burying your face back into the pillow beyond his arm. “How long have I been asleep?”

He didn’t answer you. Instead, he appeared at your side again, the bed bending beneath his weight, and he held a glass to your lips. “Drink,” he murmured. His hand slid behind your head to help you.

The strange taste bloomed across your tongue as you sipped – bitter, and warm, and tangy as it rolled down your throat. You wrapped your fingers over his hand and gulped the concoction down, whatever it was – it soothed an ache you hadn’t noticed. You pressed your knees against his side as you sat up, tilting the glass further towards your face, draining it of everything it had, even going so far as to lick the brim clean before you opened your eyes.

He was watching you. His thumb brushed the space behind your ear while his fingers trailed down your neck. You rolled your lips together as you tried to gather what remained of your drink. You watched him in return: how hadn’t you noticed how beautiful he was before? You could count the freckles across his nose and cheeks in the low light of the bedroom with how vibrant they were against his skin; his swept back hair held various shades of brown, and a scant few strands of silver – from the stress of crossing over from England, you figured, before he was turned, or maybe they’d gone grey during the run from Crowley shortly after; and then there were his eyes, which skipped across your face before holding yours.

The blood that ran through your body – the blood that wasn’t yours anymore – ran cold.

You dropped the glass.

Henry managed to catch it before it hit the wood floor, depositing it on the nightstand at your elbow.

You rubbed your throat as the missing memories returned, first in patches, then like a film playing behind your eyes: someone had broken into the house. You had been downstairs, labeling the few bottles of blood that Henry kept hidden in his fridge, frowning at the unfamiliar sounds of another human in the home. It hadn’t taken you long to react, either – your father had taught you well before he died, had made sure that you would be ready to live on your own when the time came.

You pulled a knife from the butcher’s block and stepped out of the kitchen.

Your view from the hall to the front door was unobscured. Behind you, however, was a puff of hot air as someone growled, “You’re really real, aren’t you?”

A door upstairs slammed open.

You stepped away and twisted around, lifting the knife between you and the intruder, filling the hall as best as you could. You had only seconds before Henry would be down the stairs, before the man, who stared at you with a crazed glint in his eye and held a wooden stake above his head, would be able to figure out who was really the vampire in the house and hurt him instead. Maybe even kill him.

He would kill Henry.

He couldn’t kill Henry.

You wouldn’t let him.

You remembered answering him with a breathless, “Yes,” before the stake splintered your ribcage and plunged down into your heart.

Thumbs rubbed circles over your cheeks. You blinked slowly as the memory fell into place, neatly outlining a time before you were asleep – dead, you supposed – and when you woke up.

Henry whispered your name. You finally met his gaze once again. He let out a deep, unnecessary and dramatic sigh as his forehead fell against yours. “You know that ‘I love you to death’ is only a saying, right?” he asked, “And that was a very dramatic way to say it.”

Your face flushed. “Who said that I loved you?” you squeaked.

“You did, when you went and took a man’s stake to the heart for me!” he shot back.

“Maybe I was just there and he wanted to kill us both,” you argued.

“Hm, and that’s why you said you were the vampire, is it? That you were real?” he asked.

You pressed your lips together.

His fingers trailed down your jaw and under your mouth, gently holding your chin. “There’s not a single way that I can think of that can match that, you know,” he sighed against your lips, “This will have to do.” He said a lot as he kissed you, making sure that you knew how much he loved you, that he’d loved you for an awfully long time, that it probably started when you first walked through his door, and you hoped that the kiss you gave in return said as much as your death did – that you loved him.

That you love him.

That you will always love him.

#vampire #henry sturges #henry sturges x reader #the last american vampire #abraham lincoln vampire hunter #reader insert #vampire boyfriend #toss a queue to your witcher

[bluefirewrites]

Juke Prom Night Drabble

Inspired by a scene from Sonny With a Chance and my original OTP (Channy).  Here’s a quick, sweet, canonverse Juke drabble.  Enjoy!

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"Hey,"

Julie's surprised to see Luke still here in the empty gym, half the balloons deflated, the stereos and DJ equipment packed up and stored.

Her hand bunches up the toole of her purple dress mindlessly, as she regards the remains of the prom. The prom she just missed due to the craziness that was saving all the souls from Caleb's clutches.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

Still decked out in another cursed suit courtesy of the evil ghost magician, he steps towards her.

"Sorry about what happened. Sorry that you never got to have the prom night you always dreamed of,"

Julie shakes her head, "It's- it's fine."

"Is it, Julie?" Luke probes not a foot a way from her, "Is it, really?"

She sighs. She knows better than to hide from Luke.

"I'm not upset that we did a good thing back there. Because that was a good thing. Willie's free. Caleb's not a problem anymore but..."

She still wanted her prom...

Luke, sensing her discontent, places his hands on her shoulders, shooting her a small smile.

"Hey. You know what you told me before? About prom being a magical night? That sometimes you get to have that one perfect dance with that special someone?"

She nods rigidly, staring at him as his eyes bore into hers with an intensity she cannot name.

He moves, and Julie's heart beat quickens. His hands leave her and he takes something out of his pocket- her air pods.

"I guess you're just gonna have to settle for me," he jokes, offering one bud to her.

This boy... she muses, both taken aback and impressed by the gesture.

Smiling she takes it and puts it in her ear. He does the same and he goes ahead to coax her closer, and naturally they fall into a dance position. Julie's arms coming up and framing his neck, his hands on her waist, and they sway.

"This is nice," she murmurs.

Luke's face turns melancholy for a moment, "I wish I could give you more."

"No. This is...everything. Thank you, Luke."

He nods, “Anytime.” 

The words bring out a sigh of relief out of the ghost, and it becomes easier to dance. Although there’s still something missing- 

"Uh... aren't you gonna play music?"

"Yeah..." Luke grimaces, "I don't actually know how to use these things."

Julie laughs, parting from him and pulling out her phone from her small purse, "Yeah hold on, lemme pair it real quick."

As soon as the bluetooth connection is up and running, they resume their dance, this time to music- to Julie's favorite songs.

She doesn't care how she must look right now to a passing observer. Her spinning and laughing with air in the middle of the school gym.

But it's fun. Because she's with Luke.

So yeah, this night turned out pretty special after all

Tagging: @blush-and-books @lydias–stiles @tmp-jatp @echocharm17618 @pink-flame @rainfallingfromthesky @ruzek-halstead @brightattheorpheum @caffeine-catastrophe  @moreflowersthanweeds @willexx @crummycassidy @phantomsandsunsets @shelvesofgold  @freeshawarmas @nottheleastbrave

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #juke #palina #juke-box #julie x luke #luke x julia #julie molina #luke patterson #jatp drabble #inspired by channy #i miss sonny with a chance

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Derailed (Director’s Cut)

Elle Greenaway x Spencer Reid

Word Count: ~1520

Warnings: Discussion of Spencer’s sex life, or lack thereof. Discussion of virginity as a social construct. Some suggestive dialogue, some snarky banter, and some sweetness to wash it down. It’s sexy, but also totally platonic, and it fades to black before anything actually happens.  

A/N: You cannot convince me that this isn’t how Spencer lost his v-card.  

For the “deleted scene” square on my @cmbingo​ card, written script-style and all. Picks up right where Derailed left off. 

(I almost named this Railed. Then I almost named it Deflowered. So many tempting puns.) 

[Around dusk. Hotch is driving an SUV. Morgan is in front, Elle and Spencer in back.]

Hotch: Elle, your interview has been rescheduled for tomorrow… and this time I’m driving you. 

Elle: I can live with that. 

Hotch: Local PD asked Gideon to consult on a case, and they wanted advice on media strategy, so he took JJ. The rest of us aren’t needed, so I got us checked into a motel. 

Morgan: Lemme get this straight. We have an actual night off… and we’re spending it in B.F.E., West Texas? 

Elle: They have bars in West Texas, right? 

Spencer: We just passed one. 

Elle: Then you won’t see me complaining. Drinks? Reid? 

Spencer: Are you buying?

Elle: Hell yes I am. C’mon, Morgan, you gonna come celebrate the fact that I didn’t die today? 

Morgan: When you put it that way, I don’t have much of a choice, do I? [They pull up in front of the motel and start piling out of the car.] Showers first, though. 

Elle: We can head out in like an hour. How about you, boss? 

Hotch: While I’m very glad nobody died, I am not passing up the opportunity to sleep for more than four consecutive hours. I don’t care what you do as long as I don’t get a call in the middle of the night. 

— 

[Inside a bar. Spencer and Elle are sitting at a high top, with a collection of empty glasses in front of them. Both of them are tipsy, not totally drunk but sort of giggly and loose-limbed. Spencer is using a penny to show Elle how he hid the microchip earlier. Nearby, the bartender is handing Morgan three fresh drinks, but he’s distracted, talking to a pretty woman, as he takes them.] 

[Morgan brings their drinks over to the table and sets two of them down.]

Morgan: So —

Elle: We lost you, huh? [To Spencer] Told you so. 

Morgan: How ‘bout you, pretty boy? She’s got friends. 

Elle: Oh, come on, you really gonna make me drink alone? 

Spencer: Yeah, no thanks. 

Morgan: Suit yourself. Don’t wait up. 

[Elle rolls her eyes as he walks away. Then she turns back to Spencer, who’s playing with the penny again.] 

Elle: You know I’m joking, right? I’m almost ready to head back to the motel, anyway. You should go have some fun. 

Spencer: I’m about ready to call it a night too. And honestly, that doesn’t really seem like fun for me.

[Elle watches him for a second, thinking.]

Elle: The flirting? Or the flirting with girls? 

Spencer: Hmm? 

Elle: I shouldn’t have assumed, sorry… are you even interested in women?” 

Spencer: Theoretically, yes? But more to the point, women are rarely interested in me. I’m not… like that. [He gestures at Morgan, who’s showing his new friend how to hold a pool cue, saying something in her ear as she giggles.]

Elle: It’s about confidence, Doc. Gotta be a little cocky. Not too cocky, but — 

Spencer: I don’t know how to be cocky. 

Elle: Like hell you don’t. Remember earlier? When I said you probably saved my life, and —

Spencer: — I said I totally saved your life. I remember. 

Elle: That. Cocky. It works for you.  

Spencer: I did save your life, though. That’s a statement of fact, objectively speaking. Of course I’m confident when it comes to stating a fact.

[Spencer flips the penny between his fingers a few times, then makes it disappear and pulls it out from behind her ear.] 

Elle: There’s something to get cocky about. You’re good with your hands, doctor.

[Spencer gets flustered and drops the penny, laughing at himself.] 

Spencer: That’s different. 

Elle: How so? 

Spencer: I’m not going to take a girl home and show her my magic tricks, for starters. [He finishes his drink hurriedly.] Are you ready to go? I’m ready to go. 

Elle: You’re not getting out of this that easily. 

[They both slide off their stools and pull on jackets. Elle looks around for Morgan, but he’s way too focused on the girl to notice them. Spencer makes a face. They head for the door and start walking down the block.] 

Elle: Look, objectively speaking? You’ve got cheekbones that could cut glass and you’re a goddamn genius. You know more than me about… well, almost everything, and as annoying as that can be — [She rolls her eyes and sighs, annoyed by her own sincerity.] — it’s impressive. Not to get all schmoopy about it, but… you’re pretty awesome, Doc. 

Spencer: I know I’m awesome. This isn’t about my self-esteem. 

Elle: So what’s the problem? 

Spencer: A random girl in a bar isn’t interested in my IQ. And anyway, it’s not… I know how to talk to girls. But I’m not about to take one home. 

Elle: Why not? 

[Spencer sighs heavily, looking exasperated.] 

Spencer: You want to know why I’m confident in my ability to make pennies disappear? 

Elle: I mean… not really, but I’m guessing you have a point. 

Spencer: It’s because I’ve been practicing my whole life. I’ve mastered the skill because I’ve had years to do so. 

[Realization slowly dawns on Elle’s face.] 

Elle: You’re a virgin, aren’t you? 

Spencer: Virginity is a social construct based on inherently patriarchal values of purity and the commodification of the female body. [Elle looks sideways at him, raising an eyebrow.] Yes, I’m a virgin. 

Elle: So, is it about romance? You want the first time to be special? [Spencer shrugs.] Hate to break it to you, but most first times are funny at best. The sooner you get it out of the way, the sooner it can be an embarrassing story for Morgan to laugh at. 

Spencer: Yeah. Great. That’s exactly what I want. 

Elle: No, really, what are you hung up on? [They’ve arrived back at the motel. Elle starts opening her door, but pauses.] You want to come in for a minute? Finish this conversation over another drink? 

[Spencer shrugs and follows her inside. She starts pouring drinks from the minibar while he continues.] 

Spencer: I guess part of the problem is the… learning curve. If I get to that point with someone I already have feelings for, that’s a lot of pressure, you know? But it would feel disingenuous to just pick up a random girl at a bar. 

[Elle hands him a glass and they sit down.]

Elle: Disingenuous? 

Spencer: False advertising. [He gives her a self-deprecating frog face.] That doesn’t seem fair to her. 

Elle: You’re telling me you don’t want to pick up a girl in a bar because you’re a perfectionist?

Spencer: Well… yeah, I guess that’s one way to put it. I don’t like being bad at things! 

[Elle laughs and then stares at her glass for a moment, rolling it between her hands thoughtfully.]

Elle: Which means you need someone who knows what to expect. Someone who’s okay with… the learning curve. 

Spencer: I mean, I know the theory, but — 

Elle: That’s something you can’t really learn from a book. 

Spencer: Unfortunately. I need some practical experience. 

Elle: You need someone you trust. [Spencer nods.] Somebody you’re comfortable with, but not so emotionally involved with that you feel like you need to impress them. 

Spencer: I guess. Yeah. 

[Elle raises her eyebrows and waits for him to get it. It takes a minute. His first instinct is to laugh, then he realizes she’s serious.]

Spencer: Really?  

Elle: Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out. 

Spencer: But… why? 

Elle: You saved my life. Seems like the least I can do. I owe you one. 

Spencer: I didn’t do that because I expected something in return! You’re my teammate, and my friend, and — 

Elle: Because you know more than me about almost everything else in the world, and for once I’d like to be the one showing off. 

Spencer: That’s not — 

Elle: Haven’t you been listening? You’ve got cheekbones that could cut glass, and — objectively speaking — you’re pretty awesome. Besides, you’re my friend, and — [She hesitates, looking down at her glass, and the next part sounds almost painfully honest.] — my first time wasn’t great. It wasn’t with someone I trusted. And I guess if I can make sure it’s not like that for somebody else… 

Spencer: Oh. [He smiles slightly, looking touched.] You really mean it? 

[Elle rolls her eyes.]

Elle: One night only, no strings attached, and if you ever mention it to anyone on the team I will kill you in your sleep, but yeah. I mean it. 

Spencer: Not a word. 

[Elle drains her glass and straddles him matter-of-factly. He looks very overwhelmed.]

Spencer: Did you know — 

[Elle puts a finger to his lips and shakes her head. He closes his mouth immediately, and she gives him an approving nod, teasing but also genuinely fond.]

Elle: You’re a fast learner, aren’t you? As long as you can follow directions and keep the statistics to yourself, I think we’re going to have some fun tonight. Now, shut up and kiss me. 

[Spencer smiles. Cut to black.]

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Smutty follow-up is now HERE! 

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If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message! Feel free to send me an ask if you want to be tagged in future Criminal Minds fic. 

#cmbingo21 #criminal minds #cm #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #elle greenaway #reidaway