#had some rather deep but non dramatic conversations with some people

[ephemeriee]

i have my issues but i am perfectly capable of going on a night out without getting in an argument

#went out twice this week which is rather out of character #had some rather deep but non dramatic conversations with some people #and i'm a strange and awkward person #so if i can do it everyone else can #alcohol doesn't make me spontaneously insult people #be nice if it was the same for everyone else #ephemeriee.txt

[distinguishedgentlemanswritings]

Part 2

Series Masterlist

So I insanely enjoyed the last bit of writing I did, so despite the need to uni work and make stock for my etsy shop, I'm gonna write another bit.

If things don't make sense, I apologise I am making this up as I'm going along, only with a vague idea of some plot points. Hopefully I can keep up with myself and create a fairly coherent story. Wish me luck, enjoy part 2 :)

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After speaking briefly with her sister about what they'd do with their day with the others gone, Ana quietly made her way downstairs. She found the three of them stood around the kitchen island, deep in discussion, looking at something on the table. Will heard her approach first and looked up, a soft smile spreading across their face as she stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

"Everything we need is in the house down Clarrent street, so we wont look too out of place on either side of the wall." Ezekiel was speaking, as if non of them had heard these words three times over in the past week. He needed this to work so he had planned it down to the second. Ana hated the term 'the wall', there was no actual wall, just an imaginary divide people had put just past the end of Clarrent street. Admittedly it was one of only four roads into the city, but she didn't believe that was intentional, even though everyone else does.

"We go there, change, head into the centre," Hunter had taken over, already sick of listening to Ezekiel but he was cut off as Ana's presence had been noticed by their de facto leader.

"Come on, let's go," Ezekiel said, swiping the book off the table they had been look at and stowing it away, stalking off into the porch. Hunter went over to Ana, giving her a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek, before join Ezekiel and leaving the couple alone. Will and Ana walked towards each other, she wrapped her arms around their waist as they pulled her closer.

"He didn't even say bye to Em..." Ana murmured into their chest, and Will sighed. "What you're doing today is dangerous, does he not see it or does he not care." Will pulled back slightly to look Ana in the eyes but she looked away. "I know Ez plans everything so meticulously, I know he doesn't want it to go wrong, so he's made sure it wont, but still." She looked up at them, not wanting to let go, and they knew it. Will stooped down and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose before gently pulling away, and joining the others in the porch.

Hunter was stood by the door, and Ezekiel wasn't there anymore. Walking over to where they had kicked their shoes off earlier this morning, Will tugged the ragged boots back on, wrapping the laces around their calf twice before knotting them in the front.

"Come on, he's getting twitchy," Hunter said, his voice low, quiet. Will straightened up, and walked towards Hunter, following his eyes to see Ezekiel half way down the street where he was chatting distractedly with a man stood smoking. "I could do with one of them," so he was eying up the man's cigarette , rather than keeping an eye on Ezekiel. Considering their itinerary for the day, Will thought he could do with one, so they dug into their pockets and pulled out a battered pack, passing them over to Hunter silently. "You're a fucking godsend, kid," he said, pinching one out of the pack and fishing a box of matches from his own pocket. Will stowed the pack away and scooted past Hunter out into the street, he followed behind them as he lit the cigarette.

Ezekiel spotted them as they approached and abruptly ended his conversation before stalking towards them.

"Took you long enough," he grumbled, joining them in walking towards Clarrent street. "I told you not to smoke today," which earned a dramatic eye roll from Hunter.

"You're already dragging us along on this escapade, least you can do is give me the chance to calm my nerves."

"There's no need to be nervous, I've-"

"Yes, you've planned it all perfectly, we know." Hunter patience seemed to be thin this morning, which didn't bode well.

It'll be fine.

The rest of the walk was mostly spent in silence, Ezekiel marching ahead, Will and Hunter following. Hunter had had another cigarette during the journey, likely just to spite Ezekiel, which wasn't something Will disagreed with too greatly. Ezekiel was a good guy, but when he got like this he was insufferable, thankfully it'd be over in a few hours.

They arrived to the other house just before midday. This house was worse for wear than their permanent residence, but it was close to the wall so served well to keep supplies only needed for going into the city. They all piled into the house, separating off into their respective rooms. Will pulled open the wardrobe, in which hung a strangely pristine pair of dress pants, a shirt and smart coat. In the drawer there was a white vest, and a freshly shined pair of shoes. Their coat and scarf were draped over the back of a chair, their jumper was folded haphazardly and chucked in the bottom of the wardrobe. They spent a moment readjusting the wraps around their chest before pulling on the vest from the drawer, and buttoning the shirt up. Trousers and shoes were switched next.

After taking a moment to neaten their hair, they finally pulled the coat on and made their way downstairs. Ezekiel was ready and waiting, but Hunter was nowhere to be seen. Without exchanging any words, he walked over to Will and straightened the collar on their coat and shirt. "You look good, Willow," he said when he was done, but they glared in response. "Sorry, habit," and Will just rolled their eyes before sitting at the small table in the corner.

They weren't waiting long before Hunter appeared. The trio were all dressed relatively similar now, smarter than before, ready to blend in in the city. Hunter's long, usually ragged hair was tied back into a bun, and Ezekiel's tattoos were covered, both a rare sight.

"Are we ready?" Ezekiel said, glancing between the two. Will stood up and nodded.

"Let's go," Hunter replied, heading for the door, and the other followed.

Over the next hundred metres the street changes wildly. Suddenly the buildings aren't crumbling anymore, and cross the street there were no wood and concrete houses, it was all glass and metal. The structures became taller and taller, eventually becoming the skyscrapers that surrounded the city's central square.

"Right, we meet back at the house in four hours," Ezekiel said, and with a simply nod of acknowledgement they all separated.

Will didn't like being in the city, even more so since they were on their own. But Ezekiel needed three bodies, and there was no way anyone was letting the girls come, so here they are. Will had the safest of the three jobs, but that also meant they needed to be extra vigilant in keeping an eye out for the other two being alright with their tasks. It'd be a long four hours.

After identifying their target, Will was required to just watch and follow. Ezekiel hadn't even told them who it was, but they assumed it was a government official of some description, based on Ezekiel's interest and also the small security detail that followed them. It was a boring afternoon, following, sitting, taking notes, following, pretending to wait for a taxi, it never seemed to end.

Will found themselves having circled back to where they had separated from the others, nearing the four hour mark, and their target had just climbed into a car and driven off.

Perfect timing.

Especially as Hunter suddenly raced down the other side of the street, pursued by a security guard. Will took off after them, darting across the road, catching Hunter's attention and earning a blunt shout of, "don't!" But they had already leapt, arms outstretched and they collided with the security guard, the two rolled for a short moment before coming to a stop. Will scrambled to their feet, having landed on top and went to start going after Hunter, but the security guard managed to grab at the cuff of their trousers sending them flat to the floor again. They struggled to get up and the security guard was suddenly wrenching their arms behind them, jamming his knee into their back. He held Will's wrists with one hand, and used the other to operate their radio. After calling in the situation, he began turning their pockets inside out. The notes Ezekiel needed were in the inside pocket of the coat, so that'd take an extra minute to find.

Will was being pulled up onto their knees, the splash of blood on the pavement let them know their nose was bleeding, the pain of the fall hadn't hit them. Their ears rang with adrenaline.

The security guard was half way to pulling Will onto their feet when he suddenly grunted and went limp, causing them to slump to the ground together.

"Get the fuck up," Ezekiel snapped as he grabbed Will's arm, dragging them onto their feet and pulling them into a straight sprint out of the city limits.

No police or security would follow them past the wall, but they'd be on high alert for them to come back in again. They ran back to the house on Clarrent street, bursting in through the front door. Ezekiel leant back against the closed door, Will stooped to their knees, their legs like jelly.

"You fucking idiot!" Hunter hissed as he came into the room, pulling Will up and hugging them tightly. They managed to prop themselves up on their wobbly legs, mostly leaning against Hunter for support.

"You can say that again," Ezekiel scoffed as he pushed himself off of the door and sauntered up the stairs. Hunter pulled away from Will, hands holding onto their shoulders to keep them upright.

"Come on, let's get you home for a scolding from Ana," Will nodded and slowly headed for the stairs, the pain starting to set in from the multiple falls taken in the last thirty minutes. Eventually making it onto the landing and into their room, they shut the door firmly behind them.

With legs and arms starting to ache, and a headache creeping its way to the centre of their attention, getting out of these clothes was harder than they'd probably ever admit. Eventually they had changed into their patched up slacks, and was just putting their shirt and vest away when Ezekiel pushed his way into the room, carrying a basin of water and a few rags.

"Thought you'd want to clean up," he said, his voice quiet and more gentle than it had been for weeks, Will had missed it. They looked up, cringing slightly as the pain in their head throbbed, and nodded as they sat on the chair. He walked in and placed the basin down, going to leave but quickly stopped, moving to stand in front of Will, leaning back against the desk and dunking the rags into the water.

They sat there in mostly silence together as Ezekiel wiped away the blood from their lip, and cleaned the graze on their chin. The clean water in the basin slowly turned pink as he rinsed the rags, and eventually he was done. The only thing said between the pair was Ezekiel telling Will that the security guard would be fine. The effects would wear off in a few hours, Will nodded slightly, only wishing that he would stop using their craft to render people unconscious. It happen more often than they would like.

He stood up, but didn't leave, going over to the wardrobe and pulling Will's jumper from the shelf and coming back over. After carefully helping them get the jumper on, along with their coat and scarf and finally tying their boots, the pair headed downstairs.

Hunter was sat on the step out into the street, cigarette hanging from his lip. Hearing the steps behind him he turned around, a sad smile on his face, "you ready, kid?"

Will huffed slightly and tentatively nodded. Hunter stood up, and the three made their way back to the house.

Shit, they were going to be home after dark...

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Another part done! Significantly longer than the one previous so I hope that's alright. Thought I'd leave you wondering what Ana will do once Will's home....you'll see soon :)

till next time x

#writblr #writing #short story #original writing #feedback?

[mindninjax]

To Shape a Home (8)

Autumn- Chapter 8

Last Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Bakugo x Reader

Warnings: more Erasermic 😍, Reader being silly, idiots flirting

WC: 2.6K

a/n: this one is fairly short chapter since last chapter always way longer haha. Anywhoo enjoy these goobers I love so much and also Enjoy Shouta being a lil matchmaker bahaha

You find out a few weeks later the twister that blew through your home, didn’t even set down. The damage done to most of the buildings in Pelican Town are easily fixable and everyone in town chips in to help. Shouta and Hizashi come over for dinner and comment about the broken lock on your door and help you fix it.

“It’s a shame. I always thought the front door of this place was lovely with the heavy antique wood and carved designs on the baseboards,” Hizashi sighs dreamily as Shouta screws in the bolts for your new door.

“It was a beautiful door. I’m kind of sad to see it go. The new one just doesn’t match the vintage vibes Gramps had in this place,” You reply pouring hot tea into three mugs.

Shouta grunts as he stands and stretches to crack his back. “Yeah well it’s better than not having a proper lock on the door. I’m still surprised it was able to be broken like that. What’d you say happened again?” He inquires with a raised eyebrow.

Shoot, he totally knows. You hadn’t mentioned anything about Katsuki breaking down your door to save you during the storm. Hell, you haven’t spoken to Katsuki since the two of you emerged from Jodi’s cellar, soaked and cold and flushed from the weird electric atmosphere. In fact, you were avoiding him at every moment you could.

It was so incredibly stupid of you to word vomit all your thoughts about your grandpa to him. Him, of all people in the town. You’ll never be able to look in his eyes again, let alone have a regular conversation with him again. It also doesn’t help that you’ve thought about the entire situation non-stop since it happened. Even going so far to dream about it.

It's true you don’t have control over what you dream about, the issue is when you wake up wishing you could still be in the dream. Especially when it involves the way his rough hands held you and the intoxicating smell of his breath and cologne, and the way his eyes burned into yours as he leaned in to kiss you.  But more specifically you keep thinking about what he said to you.

Yer grandad would understand I think. I mean, if the guy thought you were actually a bad person, I fuckin’ doubt he’d keep tryin’ with you or leave his farm to you. So you shouldn’t continue hiding’ all yer feelings. If you’re grievin’, fuckin let yourself grieve. ‘S the only way you’ll get better.”

He had a point and it’s been easier to speak your mind rather than having to filter all your words through a “polite screen filter” in order to make sure people liked you. You’d slowly but surely started being comfortable and saying what was on your mind. Whether it was because Katsuki told you to or not didn’t matter—or so you tell yourself—but the fact that you’re doing it anyway is good.

You take a deep breath and arrange the teacups and teapot on a tray. “Umm Katsuki Bakugo had to break it down during the storm,” you say quickly but nonchalantly.

If Hizashi were sipping tea right now he would’ve spit it out dramatically. Instead his eyes grow wide and his jaw drops. Shouta walks over to sit on the couch and gently caresses his husband's face and closes his mouth.

“I didn’t know the two of you were close,” Shouta replies. The edges of his lips twitch and you know he’s holding back a smirk.

“Yeah! In fact I thought he hated you and everyone except those three guys he spends time with,” Hizashi tacks on.

For some reason, that irritates you. You know for a fact Katsuki cares a lot about his job at Toshi’s based on the end of the conversation you overheard that night. And your neighbor Jodi gushes about how he’s always giving her free tomatoes and how he’s so good with her son Vincent. You clear your throat and tiptoe over to them, balancing the tray delicately.

“Actually, he’s not that bad once you get him talking, “ you mutter. When Shouta flicks an eyebrow up in suspicion again, you know you’re not being as casual as you’d assume.

“Why did he need to break the door down?”

“Umm well, I…was stupid...and was worried about Frenchie...and he came to help me out during the storm,” you stammer handing him a cup. It’s not a lot of details about what happened and you realize that but thankfully he doesn’t ask for more.

“Hmm...well try to be more careful next time. We don’t know if Katsuki will always be around to save you if you’re in trouble,” he berates.

The way Shouta says Katsuki’s name is suspicious. Is there some kind of a double meaning behind his words? He definitely thinks you’re hooking up with him. Is he asking “should we expect him to always be there to save you or is this just a fluke?”

You’re honestly asking yourself the same. Based on what you know about “flukes”, it doesn’t seem that way. Katsuki’s been at the right place at the right time all the times you’ve been afraid or nervous or panicking near the trash cans outside of a bar. Not to mention, spilling your guts to him and almost jumping his bones in a cramped cellar.

You nod in agreement and give Shouta a tiny grin. “I’ll be more careful. Promise.”

The inevitable happens a few weeks later. Eijirou calls you and invites you over to his place for a small get together before everyone in town becomes too busy with preparing for the fair toward the end of the season.

“Plus I haven’t seen ya in a few weeks now! I miss ya Darlin’,” Eiji pouts over the phone.

As always it’s hard to say no to him and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him too.  You’ve been spending most of your time at home and with good reason. After making the repairs to your farm and spending hours jarring your fruits and veggies from the harvest, you’d locked yourself away trying to perfect a few of your grandmother’s recipes. The peach crumble hadn’t been successful, but you were determined to get it perfect. You’d also finally purchased a cow, and making her feel at home had been your number one priority.

With all the new exciting additions to the farm, you’d completely forgotten that the one person you’d been trying to avoid would also be there. And now you can currently feel him staring daggers at you from across the room as you chat with Hanta about your new cow.  Ignoring him is hard, you really want to see if he’s angry or if he’s just as unbothered as he usually is, but you aren’t ready for either of those reactions. Instead you excuse yourself to the kitchen to grab a drink.

“You been avoidin’ me?”

Your ears ring when you hear him again and warmth shoots through your entire body. He doesn’t sound angry, per say but hurt lingers on the edge of his words. He’s behind you and you square your shoulders and take a deep breath before spinning around to look at him.

Of course he’s gorgeous as always, same flannel he always wears in a varying shade of orange—you wonder how many of those he has—and a black fitted shirt that spreads over his pecs and hugs his tiny waist. It must’ve been a while because you don’t remember how much he towers over you until right now. He stands in the kitchen doorway, leaning against it casually with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips.

You swallow loudly and lick your now dry lips. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve just been busy. Why would I be avoiding you?” you try to shrug like he is being ridiculous but you know he’s not and so does he.

He pushes himself off of the doorway and strolls to stand directly in front of you. “I don’t know Sweetheart. You tell me.”

Your heart flutters at the nickname. No. Keep it together. To distract yourself you snort and try to joke with him.

“Sweetheart? Couldn't resist not calling me Minnie like everyone else, huh? Had to have a special nickname that only you call me?” you tease.

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t tack on a mean comment or flash you a sassy look. He just looks at you with a calm smooth expression and waits for you to reply.

“Oh,” is all you say.

It’s awkward again. Damn, you are not good at this. He snickers and flashes you a crooked smirk before brushing past you to grab a water bottle. At his touch, you shiver. He’s always so warm and when his arm slides against yours, there’s an aching need to have them wrapped around you.

There’s more than enough room for him to get around you. He doesn’t shove you out of the way or nudge you. It’s gentle, a minute gesture that definitely divulges more than what he’s just said to you.

Is he flirting with you? Shocking. You didn’t know Katsuki Bakugo could flirt. And you’re pretty sure he doesn’t ever want to flirt with you.  Still there’s no mistaking, he’s being a tease.

It’s the worst possible moment for you to be hearing Shouta’s voice in your head, but it makes its way there. He’d grabbed you before he and Hizashi left your house that night. He’d whispered it quickly under his breath as if it were just a quick little reminder to pick up milk the  next time you were in town. Yet it stuck with you like it was your life’s prophecy.

Stop punishing yourself and stop doing everything you think everyone else wants you to do. Do what you want, take care of the farm in your own way. Teddy would want that. He’d want you to forgive yourself.

It’s annoying how much his advice sounds like Katsuki’s. What do you want? Is it a sign that you haven’t been able to stop thinking about Katsuki since the storm? Maybe starting something intimate wouldn’t be the best idea, but then again there’s never been any harm in just flirting.

Well shit, it shouldn’t be this hard. You need to calm down and stop overthinking everything. In a last ditch effort to stop yourself from ruining everything you shoot out the first thing that pops into your mind.

“Hey where do you live?”

It definitely helps in quieting your thoughts but does nothing for decreasing the awkwardness of the situation. To your surprise Katsuki spins around, twists the cap off of his water bottle and raises an eyebrow before putting it to his lips. He takes a few swigs, flicks his tongue over his top lip then smirks at you.

“Tsk, kinda a breach of privacy dontcha think?”  he teases and he keeps that smug smirk on his face. Almost like he’s pleased you’re asking about where he lives.

Naturally you pout, planting a hand on your hip and cocking it to the side. You see his eyes light up ever so slightly. “Well you’ve been to my house uninvited twice now, and both times, if I remember correctly, were quite unsavory. I had to get a whole new door because of you.”

Katsuki takes a step toward you but it’s not in an intimidating manner. Although he’s glaring, it feels like he just wants to be closer to you.

“Remind me next time you’re stupid enough to hide in a bathtub during a storm to leave you there,” he grunts folding his arms over his chest.

“Pft, yeah like you’d actually be able to leave me there,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at him.

You’re not sure when it got so easy to go back and forth with him like this but the comment is out of your mouth before you have a chance to catch it. He pauses and this time it’s your turn to smirk a crooked smile at him. Two can play at this game.

Katsuki is blushing. He tries to hide it by turning his face away slightly but he stood so close when he approached you, it’s almost impossible not to see the back of his flushed neck. He stuffs his hands in his pockets while trying to keep that grimace he always dons on his face. As a mercy to him you try to get back to the original question.

“I wanna bring you a gift to say thank you for saving me and Frenchie’s life. Isn't it like, country law to say thank you with a casserole or something?” you reply, playfully nudging him.

“Country Law?” There’s something charming about the stupid grimace he sports when he looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. He makes it so easy to relax and be yourself, despite being prickly and seemingly easy to anger.

“Yes. It’s real shut up,” you huff. Instead of laughing like you thought he would, he closes back up and you’re worried now that maybe you misread the atmosphere.

“S’not a big deal. You don’t gotta thank me,” he mutters. He drops his eyes to the floor. Oh. He’s embarrassed again.

“Come on, please?” you ask in a soft voice reaching out to him.

His shoulders tense when you ask, like he can’t believe you just pleaded with him. You don’t mean to sound this desperate but it comes out that way anyway and you bite your lip. Maybe you subconsciously really want to go to his house.

It’s only fair. Like you said, he’s seen your house twice now and you’ve never seen his. In fact by the end of your rationalization you’ve convinced yourself that he should be inviting you over.

He steps closer to you, so close you have to raise your head slightly to look up into his eyes. Your lips are pursed, your chin is raised, ready to argue if he tells you no but the way he stares down at you, the way he steps a little closer than anyone else having a normal conversation would, makes you hold your breath. You try—and fail—to ignore the way his red irises flit down to your lips and quickly back to your eyes.

He breathes out through his nose, keeping his eyes trained on you, looking down through his blonde lashes. You gasp when he reaches around you to grab something on the counter behind you.

“Fine,” he mutters in a husky voice.

He grabs your hand, and flips it over to rub his thumb idly over the smooth skin of your palm before he bites the cap off of a pen—oh that’s what he was grabbing—fastens it to the other side of the pen with his mouth and writes his address on your palm.

It’s all in one fluid motion and your eyes widen as you watch him. Your heart speeds up when he reapplies the cap to the opposite end of the pen with his teeth, then leans in close to your ear as if he’s going to whisper a secret.

You feel his breath on your neck and it makes you shiver.

“Try not to sweat too much and make it rub off. S’the only time I’m givin’ it to ya.”

You swear you see a piece of your soul leave your body when he turns to walk away and leaves you standing dumbfounded in the kitchen.

Katsuki Bakugo is definitely flirting with you.

--

Thanks for reading!

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #stardew valley au #to shape a home #marquie writes

[bestofbucky]

Eavesdrop

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: none really, enemies to ?

A/N: This is my first time posting something I have written. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much @tuiccim for your help, couldn’t have done it without you.

Being an Avenger is tough. Of course, there are the obvious missions and kicking ass that are exhausting, especially because you don’t have any sort of enhancements or powers. You are just a regular human being, fighting with and against some not so regular human beings. Naturally when you have downtime, you spend it doing things with the least amount of effort. Watching Netflix, listening to music, taking baths, etc, meaning that your social life outside of the compound was, to put it simply, non-existent.

You had just returned from the worst date of your life, well, one of the top five worst dates of your life. Over the past couple of months Steve and Natasha had grown tired of you whining about being single but not making any effort to change it and began sending you on blind dates. Somehow, they managed five different times to find five completely awful people. This time they had set you up with Arthur, a recruit for SHIELD and a good one at that. You wouldn’t be surprised to see him on the elite squad soon, but when it came to your date, he was really blunt and inappropriate, and you had cringed your way through the entire thing.

Once you got back to the compound, you first went to your room to get changed into gym clothes for training with Nat, then headed to her room. On your way you passed one of the common rooms and heard two voices. One familiar but one you didn’t recognise, you decided to check it out and found Steve and another man.

Steve called your name inviting you over to them as they both stood up. ‘This is Bucky. He’s moving in today to begin training.’ Steve explains. You nod and smile at Bucky, remembering Steve told you about him and that he would be living here and eventually joining the team.

You have to stop yourself from gasping out loud at the sight of him. He is a 6 ft something hunk of muscle and beauty and you can’t stop yourself from trying to take him all in with your eyes.

Steve then introduces you to Bucky who looks in your eyes for all of two seconds to say, ‘hi’ before looking down at his feet. He is probably really nervous. Even from that two second glance, you could tell he had one hell of a past. They had you hooked already, you wanted to stare into those eyes and let them tell you the stories of the lifetime they had seen.

‘You were just in Wakanda right? How was it? I have only ever seen it in pictures but I really want to go.’ You let your excitement show, hoping to relax him a bit.

‘Yeah, it was nice. I was frozen for most of it though’ Shit, he curses himself. He didn’t mean to come across so rude but he was really nervous, you are really pretty and it is messing with his head a little. It doesn’t help that he has had to meet a lot of different people today and he is all socialised out. He sees your face fall slightly before you quickly compose yourself, any normal person would have missed it but he has his past of being a trained assassin.

‘Well, Nat is probably waiting for me, she told me she would show me some new moves today.’ You say realising that Bucky had probably been under a lot of stress lately and most likely just wanted to be alone, or with Steve rather than chatting to you, a stranger. At least you hoped this was the reason and it wasn’t that he already disliked you. Saying goodbye to the two of them you head off to Natasha’s room.

Not even bothering to knock, you walk into her room leaving the door open behind you, since you’ll be heading down to the gym soon anyway. Natasha is sitting on the end of the bed braiding her hair. ‘You almost ready?’ You ask.

‘Yeah, just got to finish my hair then put my shoes on.’ She tells you so you take a seat on her bed while you wait.

Meanwhile, Bucky told Steve that he wanted to go get his room sorted. Really it was just an excuse to be alone for a little while. On the way there he walked past a room with the door open and heard two voices talking, recognising them to be you and Natasha. He was just about to carry on walking to his room when he heard Natasha ask, ‘did you meet him yet?’

Bucky assumed she was talking about him and wanted to hear what you had to say. He hoped you would be understanding of his reticence after his taxing morning. 

‘Yeah, I met him today.’ You sigh and roll your eyes.

‘That bad?’ Nat asks, raising her eyebrows with a slight smirk on her face.

‘Yes, I tried to be as friendly as I could but he seemed like a jerk.’ You huff.

‘How so?’

‘He was so blunt he just came across really rude. I had high expectations, especially after hearing Steve say so many nice things about him.’

‘Maybe he was just having a bad day?’ She attempts a defence. 

‘Bad day or not, he should have the courtesy to smile and be polite even if it is fake.’

Bucky was so hurt to hear this. Yes, he wasn’t the nicest to you but your reaction seemed a bit dramatic. He didn’t want to hear you say any more so he rushed off to his room.

‘So, I guess you aren’t going to go on a second date with him then?’ Nat asks.

‘No, I really appreciate you and Steve trying to set me up but seeing as this is the 5th time and none of them were any good, I think I’ll go back to my old methods.’ You smile at her.

‘What, never putting yourself out there and waiting for the right person to just fall into your lap?’ Nat teases and you both laugh when you nod. She finishes tying her shoelaces and you head off to the gym.

The next day you were leading a meeting of recruits who have the potential to be moved up into the squad that worked with the Avengers. The elite squad. Unfortunately for you, Arthur was in the group of recruits and was probably the next one to be promoted.  You finally dismissed everyone and started getting your stuff together to leave as well when Arthur came up to you.

‘What’s the word on who is moving up next, dove?’ You look up in shock, surely, he didn’t just call you dove.

‘Excuse me?’ You look him dead in the eye.

‘I said what’s the word on who is moving up next? I think you might need to get your hearing checked.’ He laughs at his own joke so you fake laugh with him.

‘That’s confidential., we’ll let everyone know when we have made the decision.’ You say and go to walk past him but he grabs your arm.

‘Does someone need a little convincing. If it’s you, then I can think of some ways.’ He whispers seductively in your ear. You pull your arm out of his grasp and frown at him.

‘I’m only joking, dove, come on, you can’t even take a joke?’ He laughs again.

You put on your best fake smile and your customer service voice. ‘There will be no convincing necessary. You are a good agent but you also have good competition. We will inform you all of our decision when it is made.’ You say and quickly turn and walk out the door before he can say anything else. When you get into the lift you ask FRIDAY where Steve is.

‘Common room A, Agent Y/L/N’. You make your way there as quick as possible. Heading around the corner, you slam into a solid object. You hiss at the contact on your fresh bruises, a frown appearing on your face. As soon as you look up to see what or who you bumped into, the frown quickly fades into a smile when you see its Bucky. He is already looking at you.

‘Sorry I should have been watching where I was going.’ He mumbles quickly.

‘No, it’s just as much my fault as yours. I shouldn’t have been in such a hurry.’ You apologise to him. As much as you would love to stay and chat  with  Bucky, you need to get to Steve to explain what just happened with Arthur and hopefully you can get him kicked off the team.

Bucky had left his room to try and find someone to help him figure out a few things with FRIDAY but as soon as he bumped into you that completely left his mind. You were all that filled his mind ever since he met you. He stood in the hallway for a while before realising he should ask you to help. Maybe this would be a good excuse to make up for his poor first impression. He heads in the direction you went but stops short when he hears your voice.

‘I think he bruised me. The dick.’ You say and Steve frowns at you ‘Come on, Steve. I’m  allowed to be angry. He has been nothing but a jerk to me,’ you explain and shift to get more comfortable.

‘What did you say to him when he did this?’ Steve asks, holding your arm and examining the newly formed bruises in the shapes of fingers.

‘I put on my best fake smile and pretended like everything was ok,’  You joke and Steve laughs, ‘as much as I hate the guy, I don’t have the confidence to actually show it.’ You sigh and Steve pulls your sleeve back down and leans back into the sofa. ‘Is there any way we can kick him off the team?’ You exaggerate batting your eyelashes at him.

‘He isn’t even on the team yet and you already want to kick him off?’ Steve questions.

‘Yes! I really don’t like him. I know he is your friend but I trust him about as far as I can throw him’ You explain and Steve nods.

Bucky had heard enough. He can’t believe you could be so horrible. You had the sweetest exterior and, from first impressions, you didn’t look like you could hurt a fly. But as he heard you say, you clearly put on a fake act to come across as polite and kind when really you are rude deep down. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop on you. Twice now. But he is so glad he did, because now he knows not to waste his energy on you. He knows what you think of him and he has formed his opinion of you. He hurries back to his room.

‘He’s not my friend Y/N, I only said that to you to make you go on the date with an open mind. I’ve only ever had one conversation with the guy,’ Steve jokes and you playfully push his arm, ‘All jokes aside, his behaviour breaks a lot of conduct rules and is a good enough reason to have him knocked down a few squads.’ Steve replies and you sigh with relief. You hug Steve and thank him for his help, he’s taken slightly off guard but hugs you back before you go your separate ways.

 A few weeks later, you walk into the kitchen to find the whole team eating their breakfast. Sam is cooking and when he sees you, he makes a plate and hands it to you.

‘Thank you Sam.’ You hug him and take the plate, turning around at the sound of Bucky’s scoff. You haven’t had a conversation with Bucky since you bumped into each other in the hallway. You had tried to but he either completely ignored you or just rolled his eyes and left the room.

At first it hurt, you wondered if you had done something wrong. The team seemed just as confused by it as you. Bucky didn’t have a problem with anyone else. That wasn’t to say he was extremely friendly with them, he wasn’t there yet and nobody blamed him but he could hold conversation with the others. He even laughed at their jokes. You were starting to get fed up with it so after breakfast you headed to Bucky’s room to talk to him. You knocked on the door and it wasn’t long until he answered it. As soon as he saw you his face fell visibly.

‘Can we talk?’ You asked hoping he would let you into his room. He paused to consider it then stepped out of his room, closing the door behind him. He stood there with his arms crossed and waited for you to talk.

‘Is there something I did wrong?’ You ask him and he keeps a blank face.

‘Why do you care?’ He asks still arms crossed over his body.

‘I care because you are always scoffing or rolling your eyes at me whenever I try to talk to you.’

‘I’m not scoffing or rolling my eyes now.’ He points out.

‘No but you’re not exactly being very friendly.’

‘Would you prefer for me to fake it then? Just put on a smile and pretend to like you?’ He jabs. You take a moment to process what he just said. You didn’t realise he could be so mean.

‘No Bucky I would prefer for you to maybe make an effort to get to know me before making a judgement.’ You scowl at him.

‘I have a perfectly fine judgement of you. I am not going to fall for your fake smiles and fake friendships.’ Bucky snarls and walks back into his room closing his door in your face. You are left to stand there in shock.

On the other side of the door Bucky is leaning there conflicted. The shock on your face looked so genuine. No, he has to remember it is all an act with you.

From that day on you decided you weren’t going to make an effort with him. It wasn’t the most mature decision but you were tired. What used to be eye rolls and scoffs, now turned into snarky comments and you were no longer afraid to throw them right back at him.

Steve had tried a few times to talk to you about it but, when he couldn’t tell you why Bucky hated you, he realised there was nothing he could do to change how either of you felt about the other. What he could do was change up your schedules so the two of you were rarely ever in the same room together.

Unfortunately, instead of the arguments happening quite calmly but consistently over the course of the whole day. They were now much shorter, confined to just mealtimes, and much more heated and intense. None of the team knew which was worse.

You were sparring in the gym with Natasha trying to work off some steam from this morning’s argument with Bucky.

‘Your moves are sloppy, get whatever is making you emotional out of your head.’ She grunts at you but this only forces you further into your head.

You go hard at her, but she blocks every move so you go to defence. She smirks at you, ‘Has a certain super soldier got into your head?’

That causes a surge of anger to hit you and again you go hard at Natasha, but your anger only allows her to catch you off balance and you are pinned to the mat in a matter of seconds.

‘So it is Barnes.’ She  pulls you up and you brush yourself off before getting back into a fighting stance.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ You grunt at her and start your attack. Your moves are still predictable and anger clouds your mind. You feel yourself getting more and more worked up with every hit she blocks.

You retreat to take a breather, you hear the door open and you glance over, the man of the hour has just entered and you roll your eyes but continue to spar with Natasha.

Out the corner of your eye, you see him make his way over to you both, watching as you take a lot of hits from her and barely manage to land any of your own.

‘I have seen toddlers fight better than you Y/N.’ You hear him chuckle.

‘I don’t need your opinion.’ You grunt, still trying to keep your focus on Natasha.

‘Fight like that on the field and you’ll be dead in two seconds.’

‘Keep talking and you’ll wish you were dead.’

He laughs ‘Is that a threat?’ You ignore him and continue sparring. ‘Your punches are so weak, how did you become an Avenger again?’ He is still smiling knowing exactly which buttons to push.

You stop and make your way over to him. ‘I became an Avenger because of my talent and my strength, that I worked hard to earn.’ You are right up in his face, almost chest to chest. You are breathing hard, partly from the exercise but mostly because of how riled up you are. You notice he is breathing hard as well, his breath fanning across your face.

Your mind can’t help but drift, is this what he would look like in bed, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. Small beads of sweat gathered at his hairline from his recent run. You suddenly realise how close the two of you are and force the inappropriate thoughts from your mind. You hate how seeing him so riled up is actually a huge turn on. How could you let yourself be attracted to such an asshole?

‘You wouldn’t stand a chance against me.’ His voice drops so low that in a different circumstance you would have happily dropped your panties.

‘You’re right. I wouldn’t stand a chance against you and your metal arm that you were given. Or you and the super soldier serum that you were given.’ You know they are cheap shots but you just couldn’t help how absolutely fuming he makes you. He had managed to get under your skin and the thought of him being successful only made you angrier.

He leans down even more, your noses almost touching ‘I don’t know how everyone else can’t see through your little nice act. You pretend to be so kind on the outside but deep down you’re a bitch.’ Ouch. You deserved that one for what you said to him but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Especially because if you were hooked up to a lie detector and asked to say those things again, it would flash up as a blatant lie. However, looking into his eyes there was not an ounce of regret for what he said.

Bucky knew he shouldn’t have said what he did, but you had hit a nerve and it was the only thing he could think to say back. He saw the hurt flash across your eyes but it was too late to take it back now. The only thing he could do was exit the situation before it got any worse. He turned on his heels and left the room, leaving you standing there in complete shock at your exchange. 

Natasha calls your name but you quickly leave for your room before anyone can see you like this.

The team was split all across the base. This wasn’t how you would usually handle missions but as soon as you arrived the mission started to go sideways.

‘Target headed towards the west elevator. Anyone nearby copy?’ You hear Steve’s voice through comms.

‘I'm on it.’ You say back, your comms crackling more than usual.

‘Copy that.’ Bucky said, his comms crackling from the two of you talking at the same time.

The rest of the team had heard both of your voices but neither of you had heard the other. So it was a big shock when you were waiting for the elevator and you heard his voice behind you.

‘You have got to be kidding me.’ He sighs and slowly walks up to you to wait for the elevator as well. ‘Did you not hear me say I got it?’ He snaps at you.

‘No because I was the one that said I’m on it.’ You snap back and thankfully the elevator dings it’s arrival. Normally in creepy Hydra bases you would avoid elevators but seeing as there was no stairwell nearby, this was the only option.

‘Age before beauty.’ You say to him, gesturing to the elevator.

‘Very funny’ he says sarcastically before stepping inside. You follow after him and press the only floor button available.

Silence permeates the small space as you prepare for what’s to happen once the doors open. Instead, the elevator jerks to a stop.

‘No.’ You panic and start pressing the floor button over and over. ‘No no no no no.’ Nothing is working.

‘Let me try.’ Bucky says pushing you out of the way, you so badly want to say something but the only thing you can focus on is the fact you might be trapped. Bucky taps the button and looks around for anything else to press but there is nothing. You can feel yourself start to get light headed as claustrophobia takes hold and the thought of falling to your death in this metal box takes over your thoughts. You shrink down onto the floor and hold your head in your hands.

‘Do you always have to be so dramatic?’ Bucky huffs. You don’t answer him, the only thing you can think about is the pain starting in your chest and your breathing getting heavier. 

‘Stop breathing so fast. You are going to make yourself pass out.’ Bucky grunts but when you don’t reply or make any effort to slow your breathing he gets worried. He kneels down in front of you ‘Hey? Doll? Can you hear me?’ You can’t answer him, you just feel the impending doom and the immense pressure on your chest. ‘I’m going to move your hands.’ He announces then you feel him take your hands and pull them away from your face. You look at him, tears in your eyes, a look of pure fear across your face. ‘Breathe with me, doll. Can you do that?’ He asks and you manage to nod. He speeds his breathing up to your pace then gradually slows it, you follow him as best as you can and eventually you get your breathing back to normal, with the occasional hiccup or sharp intake.

Once he sees you are ok, he lets go of your hands and sits on the floor as far away as he can. You both continue to sit in silence.

‘Thank you.’ You eventually manage to whisper, he nods without meeting your eye.

You can’t help but feel disappointed, you just got to see a caring side of Bucky and it felt amazing to be on the receiving end of it, but now you are back to him not giving a shit about you. You go back and forth wondering whether it is the right time to bring up the issues between you two. If not now, when?

‘Why do you hate me so much?’ He looks across at you and sighs before he answers.

‘I don’t hate you.’

‘Yes you do. It seems like you go out of your way to make me miserable.’ You push, making him lean his head back on the wall behind him.

‘I don’t hate you. I just don’t like how you formed opinions about me so early on. You wanted me off the team before I even got cleared to be on the team.’ Bucky explains. You stare at him in confusion.

‘How do you know what opinions I formed of you? I may have wanted you off the team but it was only because you were mean and that was after you were cleared.’ You could feel yourself starting to get angry.

‘Then how come I overheard you talking about the first time we met to Nat, you said I was blunt and rude. Then after I accidentally bumped into you, you told Steve you wanted me off the team.’ Bucky says agitatedly.

‘I never-‘ you think back to any conversations you had with Nat and Steve about Bucky. The only ones that came to mind were asking them if they knew why Bucky didn’t like you. Then it hits you, he had overheard you talking to Steve and Nat about Arthur. You sighed.

‘Let me guess, you overheard me and Nat talking not long after we first met. We were in Nat’s room getting ready to go train?’ You ask and he nods.

‘Then the conversation you overheard with Steve was straight after we bumped into each other. We were in the common room?’ Bucky looks confused but nods again.

‘You are such a prick. You eavesdrop but don’t even listen long enough to hear who we were talking about.’ You can’t help but chuckle at the situation, even though it’s not particularly funny.

‘What?’ Bucky looks more confused than ever.

‘Well, if you had listened properly to the whole conversation you would know I was talking about that asshat agent, Arthur.’ That came out more blunt than you intended.

‘The recruit that got bumped down a few squads even though he is really good?’

‘Yep. That’s the one’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Before you came Steve and Nat had been setting me up on blind dates with people. Arthur was the fifth one, I really didn’t want to go so Steve convinced me by saying they were friends and all this nice stuff about him.’ You pause to take a deep breath. ‘The day we met, I had just come from the date with him and it was awful. That's what me and Nat were talking about. Then when we bumped into each other in the hallway, I had just come from a meeting with the recruits. Arthur had been inappropriate and he hurt my arm, I was rushing to Steve to tell him and ask if he can be kicked off the team.’ You finally manage to say and Bucky just looks at you. You can see the cogs turning in his head as he is finally getting context to the snippets of conversation he overheard.

‘Shit. I am so sorry. I am such an idiot.’ He scolds himself and you can’t help but feel bad for him.

‘I am not going to disagree with you, but we have both said and done some pretty nasty stuff. I am sorry for any hurt I caused you.’  You say sincerely and he looks over to you and smiles.

‘So you didn’t think I was rude when we first met?’ He still holds your eye contact and you take a moment to look at him. You have never seen him look so vulnerable before, he almost looked scared.

‘No, Bucky, I thought you were probably nervous or tired from meeting loads of new people.’ You explain and his shoulders fall.

‘I feel like such a jerk.’ He sighs and you scoot yourself closer to him so he has to look at you.

‘I’m not all that innocent in this either. It was a misunderstanding. I am just glad we have cleared it up now.’ You say meaning it and he smiles earnestly back at you. It is something you have never experienced first-hand. You have seen him give those gorgeous, slightly lopsided, smiles to other people but seeing one directed at you causes a rush of heat to your cheeks and you find yourself blushing.

Bucky must have been thinking along the same lines ‘You’re cute when you blush. I have never seen this side of you before.’ He brushes some hair out of your face and behind your ear. ‘You know, part of the reason I was so nervous when I first met you was because I was taken off guard by how beautiful you are.’ His cheeks flush slightly at his confession.

Before you can say anything the elevator jerks again and starts moving, you and Bucky are quick on your feet, preparing yourself for the doors to open.

When they finally do you are met with a group of Hydra agents ready to attack. You and Bucky work in tandem, playing off each other’s strengths. When the Hydra agents realize this, they work to separate you. The majority of them are on Bucky but you are fighting four at once. You are onto the last one when he raises his gun to shoot but you force his arm down. Not quick enough, it fires and clips your calf causing you to cry out from the pain 

It is not as bad as actually being shot in the leg but it still hurts like hell and you can’t put pressure on it. The room is pretty silent apart from footsteps you recognise to be Bucky approaching. You move quickly and uppercut the guy in the nose. The crack echoes throughout the room as the guy falls to the floor at your feet.

You turn to Bucky, his mouth agape and eyebrows raised in shock. ‘That was hot.’ He announces finally, making you laugh, you go to take a step towards him but realise too late that your injured leg won’t hold your weight. You would have fallen to the floor if Bucky hadn’t rushed to catch you.

‘Thanks.’ You chuckle, your faces are extremely close. Your eyes completely entranced in his. Your whole body warms at the safe feeling of being in his arms. You start to wonder what it would be like to fall asleep in these arms, to wake up the next morning still wrapped up in them. Protected.

You force yourself back to reality by clearing your throat. ‘We should probably get back to the team.’ You say and he nods. He puts his arm around your waist and you put yours over his shoulders to use him as a crutch.

The ride back up in the elevator goes smoothly this time and before you know it you are hobbling up to the quinjet where the rest of the team awaits. Natasha and Steve are both looking back and forth from you to Bucky in confusion.

‘What the hell happened?’ Steve asks not trying to hide how baffled he is that you and Bucky are holding onto each other and not arguing. Natasha simply smirks. Bucky helps you into a seat then sits opposite you with a wink as you smile at him.

‘No, this is too weird. Please argue, bicker, roll your eyes. Anything.’ Sam begs Bucky who doesn’t break his eye contact with you. Bucky simply laughs knowing his behaviour is unsettling Sam and enjoying the newfound comradery with you.

#bucky #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #enemies to lovers #enemies to something #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #reader insert #marvel #marvel fanfiction #avengers #avengers x reader #bucky x agent!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #mcu #mcu fic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #james buchanan barnes

[euovennia]

Mate

Summary: In which Carlisle finds his mate with the subtle guidance of Alice.

Pairing: fem!reader x Carlisle Cullen

Word Count: 1,860

"Slow down, Alice! There's no need to be this excited, it's just skating." Rosalie remarked with a bored expression as she and the rest of the Cullen family struggled to keep up with the tiny woman.

"Maybe it is just skating, but we haven't had a family outing like this in forever, Rose! Trust me when I say this is good for us, it'll be unforgettable." Alice spoke, a mix of mischief and excitement glimmering in her golden eyes. Jasper came towering beside her and wrapped an arm around her small frame, "Just what are you planning, darlin'?" Alice only smiled before quickly escaping his grasp and continuing bouncing her way toward the entrance of the skating rink as the small group attempted to rid themselves of the uncomfortable nagging feeling in the back of their minds.

Something was going to happen, but no one knew what.

With the door held open by Alice, the family quickly filed into the building before being dragged over to the check-out counter where an older man stood hunched over the counter as he kept his eyes trained on a small TV in the corner of the counter. His calm exterior fumbled momentarily as the sound of the entrance door slamming shut behind the rather large group snapped him out of his focus. He quickly straightened himself out as he painted a warm smile onto his face, "Well hello there folks, what can I do for you?"

At this, Alice quickly pushed a surprised Carlisle to the front of the group. Feeling awkward, he quickly clasped his hands in front of him as he looked directly at the man who was patiently awaiting a response, "Hello. My family and I were interested in doing some skating. Perhaps for an hour or two."

The man turned to look down at his wristwatch before changing his attention to Carlisle once again, "Of course, but I have to say that there's gonna be about a ten-minute wait. I can get you all situated with your skates and take you down to the observation room while you wait. If that's alright, of course."

Carlisle glanced back at his family and upon receiving one enthusiastic reply from Alice and a shrug from Edward before he turned to the man, "Yes, that'll work out fine."

With their skates in hand, the Cullen clan followed the man down a long, brightly lit hallway before reaching a set of worn-in blue metal doors. The doors let out a loud creak as they were pushed open by the man. As the group filed inside the cold room, they were met with an intensely fast-paced tune composed of numerous cellos. They glanced at one another, the uncomfortable feeling slowly beginning to blossom in their bodies further with the exception of Alice who stood there with a large, expectant grin on her pale face. Realization dawned on Rosalie as she caught sight of her sister's face and she harshly grabbed her wrist as she spoke in a low tone, "What the hell are we doing here, Alice?" Ignoring her harsh, venom-filled tone Alice only shrugged. Huffing, Rosalie returned to Emmett's side as she crossed her arms. Sensing the tension that was growing between his adoptive children, Carlisle turned to the old man who was looking out a window that was faced outward toward the skating rink. "Is there a specific reason for the music?"

The man looked back at Carlisle and wordlessly motioned him to stand by his side. Carlisle furrowed his brows together in slight confusion but walked over by the man as requested. Eyes focused on the glass window in front of him, Carlisle watched as a woman feverishly skated around the rink with a heightened sense of grace and elegance that could rival that of his own family. He found himself enthralled with the precise and quick movements coming from the mysterious woman and found himself letting out an unnecessary breath as he asked, "Who is that?"

The old man kept his eyes trained on the woman's skating figure as he answered, "I don't know much about her if I'm being honest. All I know is that she's a pro skater and that her coach is pretty strict." Carlisle reluctantly tore his gaze away from the woman and glued them to the man beside him, "Coach?" The man nodded as he turned to face Carlisle fully, "Yeah. That guy over there." He spoke as he lamely motioned to the left side of the rather large rink. Carlisle's gaze settled on a well-built man with medium brown hair that was immaculately styled with calculating and judgmental eyes that seemed to rake over every movement of the female skater.

As Carlisle's gaze went to settle on the woman once again, he was pulled from his thoughts as his adoptive children had grown an apparent interest in Carlisle's overly observant attitude. "What're you looking at, pops?" Emmett spoke loudly causing Carlisle to cringe at both the nickname and volume of his voice. "Nothing, Emmett. Just looking around the rink is all." Rosalie scoffed, "Seems to me like you were checking out something special," Her gaze quickly turned to the woman who was effortlessly gliding across the ice, "Or someone." It was at this moment where Carlisle knew that if he was still capable of blushing, his face would be on fire. "She seems to be very talented, it's eye-catching." Esme gently defended. "Well, the music is a bit obnoxious." Rosalie muttered. "A flair for the dramatics never hurt anyone." Edward mused. "Oh please, all you know how to do is be dramatic." Rosalie fired back, her annoyance growing with each passing second.

Carlisle watched the scene unfold in front of him with weariness in his eyes as he gave a small nod toward Jasper who then unleashed a subtle calming effect on everyone present. Unable to fight back the sudden wave of calmness she felt, Rosalie let out a deep breath before walking away with Emmett trailing behind her, ready to calm her down further if needed. Relaxing his posture slightly, he turned to face the old man. "I apologize. My family, unfortunately, do not see eye to eye on everything." The man simply waved off his apology. "I used to be a family man myself. No worries. Anyhow, I best be getting back to the front desk. As soon as those two get out, feel free to hop on in." He said before giving the family a departing wave and walking away.

Carlisle watched him disappear behind the rusty blue doors before directing his attention back to the now-empty ice rink. He felt his undead heart fall to the pit of his stomach as one question raced through his mind: Where did she go?

His question was quickly answered as the doors leading to the rink opened and the man and woman walked in speaking in what Carlisle could make out to be French-based on his rather limited knowledge. He watched with great interest as the man and woman went back and forth with their conversation.

"Vous vous déplacez trop lentement dans certains domaines. Vous devez l'accélérer." (tr: You move too slow in some areas. You need to speed it up.) The man spoke, his tone a bit rough and body language that gave off the impression that he was annoyed. The woman seemed a bit exasperated as she responded, "Je sais que oui, mais je me sens épuisé. Donnez-moi juste un jour de repos, c'est tout ce dont j'ai besoin. Je serai mieux après, je te le promets!" (tr: I know I do, but I feel exhausted. Just give me one rest day, that's all I need. I'll be better after, I promise!) Once finished speaking, the man turned to her and shoved a finger in her face as he spoke quickly and sternly, an annoyed expression present on his face. "Non. Vous ne vous améliorez qu'avec une pratique constante. Pas de jours de repos pour vous. Arrête de demander." (tr: No. You only get better with consistent practice. No rest days for you. Stop asking.) The woman seemed disheartened by his attitude as she crossed her arms and simply nodded. The man let out a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair, "Pardon. Juste ... Habillez-vous. Nous devons partir." (tr: Sorry. Just...Get dressed. We need to leave.) The man tore his gaze from the woman in front of him and was surprised to see a large group of pale people awkwardly trying to pretend as though they weren't just eavesdropping. A light pink color dusted his cheeks as he pulled his jacket closer to his frame. "My apologies. Just a small disagreement. Have fun on the ice." He said, an awkward smile on his face as he walked out of the cold room.

With the door slamming shut behind him, the woman looked up at the family, her eyes quickly moving over the appearance of all of them, her gaze lingering on a certain blonde doctor for a second longer before speaking, "Sorry to take up all the ice. It's just that people normally don't come here." At the sound of her soft voice, Carlisle looked away from the door where the man had once gone through and fixed his eyes on the beauty in front of him.

She had dark brown hair that was thrown up to an elegantly messy bun with two fallen wisps of hair that worked to frame her face perfectly. Her eyes were a few shades lighter than her hair whereas her perfectly arched eyebrows matched her hair color perfectly. He found himself admiring her long eyelashes that beautifully fluttered with every blink and her long, slim nose that sat perfectly on her face. He admired the light pink color that stained her lips and cheeks, a glorious reminder for Carlisle of the humanity that remained within the woman before him.

"Dad!"

Carlisle looked over at Alice who had a knowing grin on her face as she motioned with her head toward the woman. He looked back at her, "I just wanted to know if you were alright. You seemed a little...Out of it."

At the sound of her melodic voice, Carlisle gave her a warm smile. "Yes. I do that sometimes. Sorry to concern you." The woman returned his smile as she spoke, "It's fine. We all have our moments." Carlisle nodded as his smile stayed painted on his face. After a few moments, the woman spoke again, "It was nice seeing you all, but I must get going. Have fun." Carlisle's face fell at her admission and he nearly reached out to stop her but restrained himself from doing so. "Of course. Have a wonderful day." With a final smile, she gave the group a nod of acknowledgment before taking her leave.

"What was that?" Jasper spoke once the doors shut behind the woman. Carlisle could feel his undead heart clench as he uttered the next two words,

"My mate."

#twilight #carlisle #imagine #twilight imagine #breaking dawn #bella swan #edward cullen #jasper hale #esme cullen #rosalie cullen #emmett cullen #carlisle cullen #twilight imagines #new moon #eclipse #fanfiction #fanfic #cullen #it's the way it's 2021 and i'm sitting here writing a fanfic for carlisle bc there's not enough for him

[amerrierworld]

Don’t Hide Us

for the request: idk if you write this, but would u do Lou x Debbie x reader smut? if not just Lou works. Maybe at the end the team finds out they're together and they all have big reactions xoxo

Summary: An evening of strip poker ends with a surprise.. or rather six surprises. 

Characters: Lou x Debbie x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,467

Warnings: smut with both our ladies but more dom!lou, and some fluff at the end :D

Being with two other people was not easy, especially when said people were heavily involved with frequent criminal activities. Despite being quite mature and  organized, they were also absolute crackheads.

You don’t know how it happened, but you had somehow been pulled into a game of strip poker- and halfway through you realized they most likely had rigged the whole thing, because you were nearly naked in your chair in just  your undergarments, and Lou and Debbie wore shit-eating grins. 

“It’s really not fair if you two always gang up on me, you know,” you huffed as your second sock came off. 

“What are you talking about, we’re playing absolutely fair,” Lou replied. Her tie had come off and was now wrapped around her head, messing up her bangs. She was only wearing her silky waistcoat and boxer briefs, but seemed the most relaxed. Debbie, like you, was in her bra, but was still wearing her high-waisted pants.

“Bullshit, Miller,” you scoffed, taking a sip from your drink. “Now hurry up, I'm getting chilly over here.”

Lou’s bar club was closed tonight, and you three were sitting close to the pool table, a languid playlist thumping through the large speakers. Dimmed lights, surrounded by the smell of vodka and cigarette smoke. You felt a deep heat stir inside you as Debbie wormed her way out of her pants after losing another round. 

Lou took her time looking her over as well until she flicked at the dangling tie from her head,

“We’re still playing, Lou. Get back to it.”

You giggled at the sight of them, which made them look over at you simultaneously, and you felt your stomach drop. Unsurprisingly, you lost the next game.

“I’ll turn the heat up for you baby,” Lou grinned as you moved to take off your bra. You blushed, shimmying in your seat as the cool air made goosebumps rise along your body. 

Debbie reached over to run a hand over your shivering thigh. The table you sat at was a small, round wooden table, and a single lamp hung above all three of you, swinging precariously.

“Oi, no touching yet, Debs,” Lou scolded, bumping the brunette in the arm. “We’re still playing, right?”

Debbie pouted dramatically, but you played on. Your nipples were practically aching from the cold air warring with your internal heat, making you squirm against your hard wooden chair.

Then suddenly and unexpectedly, Lou lost a round. Her fingers danced along the buttons of the waistcoat teasingly, eyeing both you and Debbie with a grin.

“Maybe we should call it after this,” you suggested, because Lou’s abdomen was slowly coming to light and your mouth was watering. 

“Agreed,” Debbie sighed. Lou had kept her chains and jewelry on, and you hated the way they accentuated her neck and wrists and fingers, hated how you were distracted by them.

A rush of cold air gave you a rush of adrenaline as your heart rate picked up, and you practically flew across the table to grab Lou and kiss her hard before she even got the article of clothing off. 

Her chair was tipping back and would have fallen had Debbie not reached over and steadied it. Lou’s hands were warm and large and ran over your back as you sat on the table in front of her, your legs spreading and revealing the obvious wetness gathering between your thighs through your underwear. 

“We’re not finished the game yet, baby,” she said. You immediately yanked your underwear down and tossed it with the rest of your abandoned clothes.

“There, I lose,” you pushed up and then you were straddling her in her chair, rubbing against her warm thighs. Her hands came up on your back, large and firm, as you kept kissing her. 

“I think she’s extra feisty tonight, Deb,” Lou said huskily. You had grabbed one of her longer chains in between your teeth and made direct eye contact with her as you clasped the gold jewelry in your mouth.

“I don’t blame her,” the brunette’s voice was low, quiet, and she moved to toss the rest of the cards and chips off the table before putting herself where you had been sitting moments ago. Her feet rested on the edge of the chair, by your thighs, so you were effectively trapped  by the two women. 

You were enjoying the lavish attention you were getting from them both, until Debbie yanked your hair back and sucked hard on your neck. You lost your grip on Lou’s neck and fell back against Debbie, instead wrapping your hands around her upper thighs, nails digging into her skin. 

Then Lou’s lips were wrapping around one of your nipples and you squealed as a warm tongue slid across the hard nub. 

Lou was restless, you could tell, because she didn’t hesitate to bring a hand to you cunt and rub a thumb over your clit as Debbie continued her assault on your neck. 

Lou’s hands were holding your own thighs down so you could  barely move between the two of them, and continued to rub you furiously. Your abdomen muscles kept spasming as she passed over your sensitive clit, tighter and tighter until you shook with a whining, shaking orgasm. 

You collapsed against Debbie, who momentarily lost her balance, and then suddenly was lying flat on the table, you on top of her.

“Oh, perfect,” you heard Lou whisper, before your legs were yanked apart to spread and hook over Debbie’s thighs underneath you. You felt a brush of hair against your inner thighs and then Debbie gasped loudly underneath you, her mouth right by your ear and her grip on you unforgiving. 

Lou was eating Debbie out on the table as you lay limply on top of her, feeling her tremble and shake under you. Her arm wrapped tightly around your middle to have something to hold onto. You could hardly move. You tried squirming and doing something because her gasps and whimpers and the sounds of Lou’s mouth on her cunt made you desperate again. 

You could only watch the lamp hanging above you, swaying hypnotically as you felt Debbie’s legs rise and buck. Her lips sucked on your neck again, teeth nibbling until you groaned out loud. 

You sat up, watching Lou fuck Debbie with her tongue inside her. Then you reached down with your own  hand and lightly touched Debbie’s swollen clit, and she nearly threw you off of her. Lou grinned at you with her eyes; her own hands were occupied in holding Debbie steady, so you  sat about rubbing her clit with deft fingers until you heard that familiar cry, and she came on Lou’s tongue.

Lou sat back, spreading her legs and grinning at the sight of both of her girls laying exhausted on the table. You caught her eye and she licked her lips, pupils blown. 

Your legs were shaky as you attempted to get off the table, helping Debbie up in a sitting position, her chest heaving, sweat shining in the poorly lit space. Lou rubbed her legs, almost apologetically for making her thrash and whine so much. They kissed languidly, and Debbie reached down to cup her between her legs, but she pulled her hand away and sucked two of her fingers in her mouth before saying,

“No. Later,” she said, conclusively. She looked over at you and pulled you closer, and your hands subconsciously came up to play with her necklaces again.

“This was my idea after all,” Lou said, “and you two look- well, thoroughly fucked. If I may say so myself.”

-

You walked back slowly- because your legs felt stiff. You were still adjusting your outfit, feeling like everyone around you could see the dark bruising forming on your neck. And that everyone could see Lou and Debbie’s messed up hair- or the fact that all your clothes were wrinkled and messy. 

The evening sun was hiding behind the skyline and the sky was a lot darker by the time the three of you had reached Lou’s place, only you were stopped in your tracks by someone waiting on the front steps.

“Constance?” Lou asked, baffled, her hand slipping out of yours. The young woman was standing at Lou’s door, undeterred and munching on a Subway sandwich.

“Oh, hey! Where you been? I’ve been calling like, non-stop,” she said, “I was gonna return the key, remember?”

She jangled a set of keys that you recognized- everyone from the team had received a copy of them during their heist, and Lou groaned,

“Shit- I completely forgot. I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”

“Nah, Tammy drove me.”

“Tammy? What- where-”

A honk from the street made you look over and see Tammy in the driver’s seat of a car waiting by the curb. She was grinning and waved her hand at the group of you standing on the sidewalk. Next to her was Amita.

“Did you bring everyone or something?” Lou said, exasperated.

“Uh, of course not! Just them- and Nineball. She’s in the backseat.”

“Why?” Debbie nearly shouted, holding your hand even tighter. 

Constance jangled the keys again, and this time you noticed there were far more than just one person’s set of keys- they must’ve gotten together to carpool the keys to Lou’s after Constance had planned to drop them off. And now they all saw the three of you walking home- clothes disheveled and covered in lipstick prints.

You groaned, knowing your state, wondering how it looked, wondering if they’d found out yet. This wasn’t really how you had planned to tell the team. You weren’t sure if any of you three had been planning to tell anyone at all. 

“You’re a thief, Connie, couldn’t you have just broken in?” Debbie added, bringing you back to the conversation, “would’ve saved everyone some time.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Constance grinned as Lou brought everyone inside. 

You nearly sprinted up the stairs, wanting to get out of sight as soon as possible, but Lou had grabbed your hand before could even take one step.

“Not so fast,” she whispered hoarsely, “you’re gonna suffer just as much as us. No abandoning post.”

You pouted at her but relented, welcoming the other four women who started chatting.

“I’m terribly sorry if it's a bad time!” Tammy said, “but it’s been so long since all of us have been together, you know? And I was only in town for a little while, so I thought I’d reach out to Connie and-”

“It’s fine,” Debbie interrupted her, sincerely, but slightly frustrated, “it’s good to see you all. Although we don’t have everyone in, only-”

As if on cue, the door that had been left open a crack swung open all the way, revealing Rose and Daphne, arm in arm.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Lou sighed, and you grinned, sliding up to her and pulling on her hand with yours,

“Picked the wrong night for poker, huh?”

“Oh my goodness, girls!” Daphne squealed, pushing her thick sunglasses on top of her head, glossy lips spreading wide. “We were just passing through- had no idea everyone was getting together!”

“Neither did we,” Debbie replied, receiving their hugs and hello’s.

“So what were you three up to before you got back?” Amita asked, oh so innocently. You nearly choked on a can of Coke.

“We were... out,” Debbie said bluntly. You could see in her eyes; she was blanking entirely on how to recover from this. 

“I was teaching them how to play poker at the club,” Lou added, absentmindedly picking at her nails. 

“But... you only ever take people out for poker on a date, Lou,” Tammy piped up, confused. Of course Tammy would fucking know that.

There was a dreaded silence, and you realized you were absolutely fucked when the first voice cried out,

“No! No way!” Okay, so Constance had definitely figured it out. You blushed furiously, only confirming her suspicions as she scanned you and your  girlfriends.

“What?” Debbie snapped.

“You guys are fucking, aren't you?” Nineball asked, nonchalantly, as if that wasn’t one of the biggest revelations of the century. 

You expected screams- a major uproar, glasses to be thrown in surprise, but instead, there was a moment of stunned silence before there was a collective “Oooohhhh...” of realization. Then they all began talking over each other

“You know what, that makes a lot of sense-”

“Yeah I was beginning to wonder if you really just didn’t care about fashion with how your outfit looked- or if you just hadn’t seen a mirror...”

“Oh my god, it’s bad enough Debbie mothers all of us already. Now there’s three of you together?”

“I kept asking Y/N if she was seeing anyone and wanted a blind date or something, but she was so vague-”

“So how is the wedding going to work?”

“Isn’t that, like, a lot of limbs to deal with?”

“For some reason I’m surprised but also not at all.”

“Okay, okay, okay!” Lou shouted, finally shutting your friends up. “Yes, fine, the three of us are seeing each other. But we’re not just fucking, alright?”

“It’s an actual relationship, and if any of you have a problem with that, you can get the hell out.”

“Holiday shopping must be so expensive,” Rose murmured over to you as your girlfriends kept defending your situation, and you couldn’t help but giggle. And then you began laughing, loudly. So absurd was the situation that you couldn’t stop laughing. 

“Is something funny?” Debbie asked, crossing her arms, annoyed. You giggled and nodded,

“Yes, all of this is funny.” 

You got up and crossed over to Lou and Debbie, holding their hands and looking over your group of friends; none of them showing any sort of malice, only content amusement and smiles.

“I find it funny that you’re both getting so worked up about it when no one here is having an issue with our relationship. Nothing’s gonna change from how it was before, right guys?”

A few nodded in response and you smiled, absent-mindedly straightening Lou’s askew tie.

“So there’s really no problems then, hm? Why don’t we just... crack open some beers and keep the party going?”

Constance hollered in agreement, and just like that, the atmosphere was back to normal, drinks were being opened, and although your throuple situation was still a topic of conversation, it wasn’t nearly as malicious as you thought it would be. 

“You know, I always had an inkling that something was going on, but I couldn’t put my finger on it,” Daphne said, gleefully. You rolled your eyes and gave her a glass of wine.

“Got room for one more?” Nineball asked. Lou chucked an empty soda can at her head.

#lou #lou miller #lou miller x reader #lou miller x you #debbie #debbie ocean #debbie ocean x you #debbie x lou #ocean's eight #oceans 8 #oceans8 #ocean's 8 #oceans 8 fanfic #lou x debbie x you #wlw #lgbt #merry writes

[cancerjupiter]

🔥 fire moons 🔥

aries moon

Probably the simplest, most bluntly honest and emotionally direct of all the Moon signs, they tend to be single-minded when involved in their latest enthusiasm, not liking to be bothered (least of all by “emotional” distractions or someone else’s “personal needs”). Most of them will have thousands of such interests in their lives, each of which takes on a feeling of pressing importance and tremendous urgency … until they lose interest when the source of excitement is no longer new. Very action-oriented and thus often a bit pushy, they frequently react impatiently, even when they are not nearly so annoyed or irritated as others may assume from their explosive behavior. Aries above all needs new challenges throughout their lives. Often fearless, the one fear Aries Moon does have is fear of boredom. They always need a new challenge.

They are usually poor listeners, not just because of their obsessive self-interest but also because they tend to jump to conclusions (unless they have, say, lots of Gemini or Libra in their charts, in which case the result is people who can be superb at “active listening”—quickly grasping the essentials and energetically giving lots of instant feedback). Actually, as one perceptive woman with Aries Moon pointed out to me, they need to feel that they are not influenced by others, and therefore they appear not to be listening to others’ advice or observations. And yet, months later, they may inadvertently reveal that they heard it very well and even reflected on it and accepted it later.

Easily bored, restless, rather self-centered, they are by nature competitive—even though many of them don’t like to acknowledge it. They simply have to be the best at everything! As one woman wrote, “Two women I know with Aries Moon are domineering. They think they know all the answers, and that they are always right” (AQ). However, even though instinctively competitive, they do not tend to hold a grudge since they move on to their next interest so quickly—unless they see the other person as an enemy to their freedom who is trying to control or limit them. They are in fact extremely self-sufficient; they prefer independence and the freedom to act without restriction and rarely seek any kind of input from others.

Women with Aries Moon (or Sun for that matter) often use “toxic masculinity” at least in a gentle, non doctrinaire way, because they respect strength and competitiveness, and thus have little time for weeping and moaning from others.

Men with Aries Moon tend to expect a lot from women. In women it gives a strong sense of purpose and freedom.

A thirty-year-old female wrote the following about men with Moon in Aries:

“They seem to totally involve their attention in a very direct and powerful way in the scrutiny of new “data,” often to the extent of monopolizing conversations or others’ attention until their interest wanes or changes focus. They’re also very self-centered: their ideas, their action, their feelings come first, and they don’t usually have a lot of empathy for the needs or feelings of others; they’ll listen, but they’re not consistently good with feedback or support.”

Aries Moon can be outspoken and tactless. Their emotional reactions to stimuli seem raw, completely spontaneous and uncensored.

leo moon

Those with Leo Moon react warmly, generously, and often with enthusiasm and/or humor. There is a childlike simplicity about them, and in fact their notable pride often resembles that of a child as well. These people need recognition and demonstrative affection, and their pride is often hurt if such attention is not given in sufficient and public ways. Like all the fixed signs (Taurus, Scorpio, and Aquarius being the others), Leo is a sign of extremes; and it is therefore difficult to paint a balanced picture of their personal tendencies. They are often shallow and prone to flattery, and yet they have considerable personal integrity, which is not usually compromised. Needing to live up to a big and rather dramatized image of themselves, the Leo Moon person can be rather a show-off. But they do it with such innocence and high expectations that they are often forgiven for their tendency toward self-absorption and dramatization. In fact, it seems they are so in need of attention and so childlike themselves that in very few cases do they have room for children in their lives, even though they often have a natural way with kids and can be great parents. Although not a scientific fact, all the Leo Moons I can think of offhand have either no children or only one child.

They can be loyal, sometimes blindly loyal to the point of foolish behavior that has a negative impact on everyone concerned; and they can be generous (but they do not mind if others notice their benevolence). Shortsightedness is perhaps one of Leo Moon’s worst faults. Some “cannot see past the ends of their noses” and are so self-absorbed that they do not even notice others’ reactions to their sometimes obnoxious, grandiose behavior. This shortsightedness surprisingly extends to their understanding of their own potential. It has always amazed me how many Leo Moon people (with innate talents and ability in abundance!) sell themselves short and wind up worldly failures in comparison to what they had the ability to do. I cannot help but suspect that one reason for this is that their huge pride prevents them from ever listening to (or asking for) honest feedback about themselves. Perhaps they secretly fear that they are not quite up to their self-image. They are known for being insulted easily, so they naturally do not want to expose their fragile ego to criticism, no matter how well-intentioned. But unless they develop a deeper self-understanding and the ability to accept authentic personal communication from others, they may remain engaging in their earnestness and simplicity, but it can eventually wear thin, like a person who never grows up.

Leo Moon people have a capacity for encouraging others that can be extremely supportive and strengthening in a crisis. They can be as solid a support system as one could ever want, but in other cases they seem fanatically convinced that they are having a great, positive impact on others (regardless of the truth) and they want to be thanked for it. Being admired is a central need in many with this Moon placement. (Note that Leo Moon is much more passive than Leo Sun, who is usually busy creating and doing.) There is a deep-down feeling of needing to live up to an image of bigness and greatness, even if they wind up resenting others for not noticing all that they have given. In short, the vast range of Leo Moon personalities evokes extreme reactions, and they are probably included in anyone’s list of people whom one has either deeply loved or strongly resented! Note the extreme and varied qualities noted about Leo Moon in this questionnaire response:

“People with the Moon in Leo always like to be on top of things. They like attention and some can be easily appealed to through the ego. Moon in Leo makes for dynamic personal expression. These people tend to make their presence felt.… the person often tries very hard to make others see them as somebody special, getting mixed reactions from others. While tending to be somewhat opinionated these people can make good listeners, can be very concerned, very caring even if a little overbearing. Moon in Leo is gregarious, dynamic, and can be very creative.”

Another perceptive observation about them:

“Moons in Leo are emotionally melodramatic. They’re easily upset, and tend to get fixated on what they’re feeling, sometimes to the point that their feelings become a major issue in which everyone around them has to participate. They like the excitement of having everyone’s attention on them, even when the price for that is an argument or some kind of conflict. Once they’ve satisfied themselves that they have everyone’s full attention, they’ll usually happily drop the issue and magnanimously allow someone else the “spotlight.” They’re performers.”

sagittarius moon

Tolerant, broad-minded, with a buoyant attitude toward life, those with Sagittarius Moon are idealistic by nature and instinctively react with a philosophical attitude toward any setback, knowing that the future (not the past!) is what matters. They are most comfortable when exploring ideas, ideals, or outdoor places and love a sense of freedom without limits. The distant horizon is always felt as more appealing than the here and now. They particularly need mental freedom (including religious and spiritual room to improve themselves), since their aspirations are not just high but boundless. In fact, the term “upbeat” was invented by a Sagittarius Moon! As one Sag Moon woman always repeated as her mantra, “I see the glass as half-full, not half-empty.” They like to entertain groups of people with their humor. In fact, they want to say yes to every opportunity; they want to feel that life is unbounded by any limits, and so they tend to instinctively promise far more than they can ever deliver. They assume, I suppose, that everyone else forgets as many immediate details as they do, a habit that backfires when angry friends and colleagues confront them demanding to know why the promise did not follow through. As a questionnaire reply asserted, “A need to be all things to all people” characterizes Sagittarius Moon. Generosity and “bigness” are dominant factors in their lives and in their sense of reality and self-image.

Sagittarius is the sign most likely to be oblivious to the realities right in front of them that are obvious to everyone else, so focused are they on the distant goal. Since the road to hell is paved with good intentions, Sagittarius Moon people need to be sure that their goals and ideals are grounded in what is truly possible. They do need a large guiding vision to motivate them in life, but they also need periodic times of self-examination to assess whether they are themselves living up to their ideals. They like to preach to others (usually “helpfully,” in their view), but if something does not work out, well, that is not their problem. Sagittarius Moon people rather dislike the heaviness of daily “reality” and personal or emotional problems.

They have difficulty handling any criticism and often in fact become more indignant than any other sign—a pride that is usually hidden and often surprises others who take their positive, happy demeanor at face value. As Donna Cunningham wrote, “The things that set Sagittarius Moon people off are having one of their pet theories or convictions demolished”. This pride, manifesting at times as a rather exalted view of oneself (perhaps as the only one who can reveal the “truth”), is part of the dualistic nature of Sagittarius, the symbol for which is the centaur—half horse and half human. Sagittarius has the lifelong task of integrating their more idealistic nature with their more unrefined, impulsive, egocentric tendencies. At their worst, they are so proud of their “honesty” (sometimes viewed by other people as tactless bluntness) and of their own moral or intellectual righteousness that—unless more humble or sensitive factors are also dominant in the chart—they can be so uncompromising in their mode of expression that they are often perceived as inconsiderate and unnecessarily hurtful.

Perhaps the key for Sagittarius Moon people to feel authentically at home with themselves is to apply their honesty to themselves as bluntly as they express it to others! They often think too highly of themselves and want to project an admirable image to others. They like to feel idealistic and upstanding, but if they look at themselves honestly, they often have to admit that they are not as impeccably honorable as they like to think; for they can rationalize their behavior as well as anyone when it is convenient or advantageous to do so. Sagittarius Moon is thus a good example of the fact that how people feel about themselves (always directly related to the Moon in anyone’s birth chart) is not necessarily how others see them and their behavior.

A couple quotations from questionnaires can round out this description of Sagittarius Moon:

“Easygoing, gets along with and accepts strangers without discrimination—though sometimes self-righteous and snobbish. Independent emotionally, doesn’t seem to need so much from one as they can get from many.”

“Moon in Sagittarius can be very high-minded, they respond very actively to life. These people can try to push others or just be domineering in general. They can be a little pushy but this is generally out of enthusiasm. For both sexes, can be very direct. For men—very honest in attitude, they say what is on their mind. For women this is also a very blunt placement. Both sexes can often be tactless; they speak the truth as they see it and figure that others should just accept it no matter how hard it is to swallow.”

#astrology #zodiac signs #aries #leo #moon signs #sagittarius #aries moon #leo moon #sagittarius moon #moon in aries #moon in leo #moon in sagittarius

[jj-babebank]

Room 107 // chapter III // JJ Maybank (smut)

This story picks up where season 2 leaves us.

TW: May contain mentions of drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, sex and violence.

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS CAN BE FOUND HERE: one ; two

Chapter 3 - La Ganga

Samara’s hand was still resting on JJ’s knee as her eyes sultrily bored into his, waiting for his response. JJ’s head was spinning in a thousand different directions, trying to assess what exactly was going on. The main issue he had with this whole ordeal was that she didn’t in fact invite him over because she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. The sad truth, as JJ came to realise, was that this annoyingly attractive girl had simply overheard him boasting to his friends about the gold that they had found, and respectively lost, and now she wanted a piece of that instead. JJ sighed loudly. As much as he hated to admit that this was a bad idea, he pushed that thought very far to the side and tried to negotiate with the part of his brain that didn’t think logically, which in his case was the dominating one. What exactly could he lose here? The chances of them finding the Royal Merchant gold were extremely low, to the point where they were almost non-existent. This girl was voluntarily offering to help them find it, and she was also willingly to let them stay in her family’s hotel for free until further notice. How JJ saw this was extremely straight-forward and simple - Samara asks for part of the gold, Samara offers her help in return for the gold, JJ accepts said offer and lets her help, growing closer to her in the meantime, seducing her and eventually winning her over, so that even they don’t find the actual treasure, she realises that the real treasure was right there with her all along, at it wore worn down biker boots and went by the name of JJ Maybank. Yep, that sounded like a great plan, one of his best plans yet, if he did say so himself. He looked down at Samara’s hand still on his knee, a ball of excitement growing in his stomach just at the sight of it being there, then he looked up at her face, twisting the corners of his thin lips into a smirk. “You have yourself a deal, gorgeous,” he said, his confidence suddenly returning to his body. The old JJ senses were coming back headfirst and he was feeling great about it. Samara smiled in return, raising her glass for a toast, “To working together,” JJ clinked his glass with hers, sending her a wink, “To working with each other,” The pair sat in silence for a moment, JJ mostly admiring the girl sitting next to him, before she broke the silence, “Where did you say you were from, JJ?” “We never got to that part, actually,” he answered, glad that Samara was taking interest in him, “I’m from a place called the Outer Banks, more specifically Kildare. It’s in North Carolina, right by the coast.” He explained, painting an imaginary picture of what he was saying with his hands, "You know, prior to ending up here, which was a total coincidence by the way, the furthest I’d been from Kildare was Charleston. I, uh, I haven’t really been anywhere.” Samara was studying his face while he was talking. She had asked him a simple question and was expecting a simple answer, yet this boy could just seemingly not stop talking. She couldn’t decide whether it was annoying, or strangely endearing. She almost felt bad for having to shut him up to change the topic to what she had actually called him over for, “So tell me about this gold,” Lucky for her, JJ didn’t seem to mind her direct approach to the change of subject, instantly going into another story - the one that interested her the most. “Funny you ask,” he said enthusiastically, taking a rather big sip of his wine, “So as I said, I’m from the Outer Banks. Let me describe the OBX to you - it’s an odd place, you see, a place much like any other in the sense that it’s divided into rich and poor, however that divide is a suuuuper big deal to us. You’ve got the rich and elite bastards called the Kooks, and you’ve also got the not so lucky ones who work for them - the Pogues. Me and those guys you so kindly invited into your home, are, well, were Pogues. Except for Sarah, she was rich-rich.” There it was again - JJ getting completely side-tracked in his own thoughts, talking about irrelevant to the topic of conversation things.

Samara somehow found it entertaining and she wasn’t particularly bothered by it so she just let him speak, hoping that he’d eventually get to the point. “- so one day, it turned out that John B’s old man was dead, although he’d left behind all these clues and well, one thing lead to another, we found the gold, except we weren’t the only people looking for it, obviously,” Bingo, there it was - the gold. Samara knew this was her cue to focus, “- so when we were finally within touching distance of the gold and the cross - boom - we threw ourselves of the ship to dodge getting totally killed, and, well, here we are.” JJ wrapped up his story, leaning back into the couch and sighing contently with what he believed to be a great short summary of what had happened to him and his friends, finishing the rest of his wine. Samara frowned as she did the same, “Hold that thought,” she said, standing up and disappearing into the diner for a brief moment, before coming back with a bottle of the infamous whiskey from earlier, it had just enough contents to fill up one more glass each. JJ smirked at the sight of her when she sat back down next to him and she frowned dramatically, “What? I thought this called for something a bit stronger.” JJ didn’t protest as the pretty brunette refilled their wine glasses with the harder liquor, “I have a cousin up in Daytona,” she said as matter-of-factly, “He owns a motel in the Holly Hill area. We can crash up there while we head up north. We’ll leave first thing Thursday morning, before my aunt and cousin come back. I’ll make sure we have everything we need by then, we have just enough time.” “Why are we heading up north?” JJ looked puzzled, “And how many cousins with hotels do you have?” “Seeing as we know virtually nothing about where these people were heading, the most logical thing that we can do is go back to the Outer Banks and try finding out as much as we can from there. There must be someone who knows.” The more she spoke, the more it made sense to JJ. Ward would have made sure to erase all of his traces by now, Rafe would have tried his best to follow in his father’s footsteps, however there was one member of the Cameron family who was, for the lack of a better word, messy. And that was Wheezie Cameron, Sarah’s younger sister. JJ was sure that Ward would have changed all of their phone numbers, if they were even still allowed to have a phone, however the thought of Wheezie Cameron totally removing herself from social media was by far absurd to JJ. He was sure that they would be able to somehow trace her even without having to go all the way back to the OBX, but before they could do that, this was their only option. Samara had turned out smarter than he had made her out to be initially. She was cunning, generous and helpful, all traits that JJ never thought he’d find this attractive in a woman. Hell, up until now he’d never even looked for any traits in women beyond their physical appearance, yet here he was - a changed man. “You, miss,” he pointed at her with the hand he held his wine glass in, “Are a genius. Has anyone ever told you that?” Samara snickered, although she couldn’t help the slight blush that was painting itself across her tanned cheeks, “Don’t push your luck too much, JJ, we’ve only just met,” she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, almost appearing shy for a split second. This didn’t go unnoticed by JJ and he took it as a green light to scoot a bit closer to her, to the point where their faces were inches apart. He couldn’t help but breathe her scent in, and boy did she smell alluring, her perfume heavy and somewhat oriental, at least that’s how JJ would describe it. It reminded him of all the times he’d served tables down on Figure Eight and rich Kook girls would walk past him, leaving behind a scent of expensive designer perfume. Samara almost reminded him of a rich Kook girl, she looked so well put together and so on top of her shit. Good thing they weren’t in the OBX anymore, otherwise his friends would grill him for breaking the one promise he had made to himself

long, long ago - never getting with a Kook. Except she wasn’t a Kook, they weren’t in the OBX and much to his dismay - him and her were hardly getting with each other. He realised that winning Samara over would take time, and lucky for him, he had all the time in the world. Finding Ward and the gold would take a while and he was up for an adventure, especially since it included this gorgeous young lady. He studied her some more. Her skin looked so soft, and so did her lips - so soft, so inviting. Her eyes were dark and mysterious, shaped like almonds, and the way she batted her luscious lashes almost made her seem like she was keeping a number of dark and dangerous secrets. JJ knew that deep down she saw something in him, too. She just needed the right push to admit it. A stray strand of her hair fell in her face and before she could react, JJ gently tucked it away behind her ear, taking his time when his fingers met her face. He let them linger there for a second before pulling his hand away. “Thanks,” was all that she could say. “Don’t mention it,” he said gently, “We’re gonna be partners after all, we’ve gotta help each other out, right?” Samara almost rolled her eyes at the sound of JJ referring to them as ‘partners’, but she withheld from it. Something about this boy was very endearing to her, in a lost puppy type of way, and she didn’t want to admit it, but she didn’t entirely dislike his company. Au contraire, it had been a while since she had had someone around. This didn’t seem all bad to her - she would go for a little adventure, make some friends, and if all goes to plan, she’ll come home with a bag full of gold. Hell, if she felt frisky enough she could even JJ the time of day once or twice - no strings attached, of course. He seemed keen enough, that much she knew. And she had never been with anyone in that way before, much to everyone’s disbelief. She wasn’t going to tell him that, of course, especially not now. Perhaps it was the alcohol speaking, but she suddenly found him so attractive. He was her usual type - seemed like the local bad boy back home, the one who didn’t abide by the rules and got himself in trouble more often than not - and only God knew just how much Samara liked the bad boys. His fingers, although rough and calloused, left the softest touch, and she was ashamed to admit she wished he’d left them there for a moment longer. She crossed her legs and sat up straighter, trying to regain her composure. She knew she’d had enough to drink. She couldn’t do this here, especially not tonight, not in her aunt’s hotel. She knew that if she didn’t call quits to the night now, things might get ugly and she didn’t want to lose her composure with JJ yet. “Shall we?” She said, trying her hardest to sound as confident and unfazed as she could, “Head to bed I mean,” She quickly added, mentally kicking herself for not clearing it up and potentially giving JJ the wrong idea. Judging by the growing smirk on the boy’s face she realised she’d just dug herself a hole. “I thought we’d only just met, Miss La Guardiana,” he winked, standing up and offering his hand to help her up. She accepted it and turned on her heel towards the stairs as soon as she was on her feet, sassily flipping her hair as she did so. JJ followed after her, smirk only growing as they walked up the stairs and into the hallway to their respective rooms. When they reached JJ’s room, they both stopped, Samara leaning against the wall. “Fill your friends in on our plan so far,” she said, “About heading up to Daytona, I mean. I’ll take care of everything else until then.” JJ raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure what she meant by ‘everything else’. She noticed his confusion and decided to clear it up, “I’ll sort out some clothes for all of you, food is on the house, we’ll also need some cash so…” she eyed JJ up and down, an idea forming in her head, “Perhaps you could be useful while we’re still here and work for it, I’m thinking… waiter?” JJ almost laughed, “Baby girl, you name it - I’ve probably done it. Back home, there isn’t a job I

haven’t worked, just to make enough to put food on the table. Besides, serving food and drinks is the least I could do to repay your kindness,” his eyes darkened as he took a step closer to Samara. His face was getting dangerously close to hers, never breaking eye contact, “It’ll be my pleasure to work for you, miss La Guardiana,” Samara held her ground, trying to keep her cool as much as she physically could. On the inside, she was on fire. “Likewise, mister Kildare,” she whispered, inching her body closer to JJ’s; she wanted to push his buttons as far as she could in the moment. They stood there in silence for a moment; they didn’t need to say anything - their eyes were doing all the talking. JJ couldn’t keep his eyes off Samara’s lips, though when he finally gave in and leaned forward, the girl took a sudden step backwards towards her room, leaving him breathless. “Make sure you wake all of your friends up early tomorrow,” she simply said, “You didn’t think you’d be the only one who’d have to work for a living around here did you? “ she faked a grimace, still stepping backwards towards her room, “Meet me tomorrow in the lobby at 8. We’ve got work to do,” she stopped in front of her door, pressing her key into the lock, “Oh, and JJ?” Her door clicked open, “I really enjoyed tonight. Looking forward to our next date. Goodnight,” with that, she was gone. Did she say date? JJ stood in the hallway for a moment before going into his room. He couldn’t hide the grin on his face even if he wanted to. Samara totally had a thing for him and he couldn’t wait to dive into this new adventure - the gold being the last thing on his mind, because maybe, just maybe, Samara wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

#outer banks #jj obx #obx #obx2 #jj one shot #jj x oc #jj maybank #jj smut #John b #Kiara carrera #jiara #rafe obx #rafe cameron #Sarah cameron #pope heyward #Cleo obx #jj mayback x reader #outer banks x reader #outer banks fic #fanfic #jj fanfiction #jj story

[blacksunscorpio]

Hello! I saw your post about elevated planets, is there also any explanation about the planets opposite/bottom of the Zenith/Mc? Thank you!

Good Question

Nadir In Astrology

The Nadir, or Imum Coeli (IC), Latin for “south/bottom of the sky,” or “lowest point” is one of the four major angles in an astrological birth chart [the other 3 are the [Rising, Descendant, and Midheaven] and definitely the least talked about. The Midheaven and Nadir points lie at opposite ends of your Natal Chart. The Midheaven is at the very top [where your most elevated will be nearest]. It is where the Sun was at its highest peak during midday. Using this, we calculate the Nadir, or where the Sun was at its very lowest point during midnight. Like the Ascendant and Descendent Axis, the Midheaven and Nadir are opposites, with one side exposed and other other deeply hidden. It lies opposite the Midheaven—a point on our chart that represents our public life and persona, which gets a lot of attention.

What it Means

Since the Midheaven is our brightest, most open, well-light part of your personality, adversely the Nadir is the dead of night in your chart [quite literally], the IC is the deepest, darkest, quietest, most personal place in your chart. It  houses the Private Persona. This is how your mind operates in secret, how you feel, and how you act, when you are completely alone, with no one else watching. Our Nadir (IC) signifies our most profound depths and needs, a part of us that we often don’t share with others. While the rising and descendant axis of our charts navigate the relationship between self and others. The Midheaven and Nadir showcase the polarity of our outer and inner worlds. The IC sits on the cusp of the fourth house, ruled by the moon/cancer associated with family lineage, home environment, and family influences. Similarly to the moon, our nadir shows us our needs and emotional tendencies, though it's much more than that. When you looking at your birth chart, the nadir is below the horizon line of the ascendant and is the lowest place in our chart, therefore representing our foundation and roots. In this way, the IC also reveals the type of environment best for our physical well-being. Make sense? Now, I want to mention that many often think of the MC as a fake, constructed persona, and the Nadir is as our real, authentic selves. This couldn't be further from the truth. Fake news. This way of thinking hinges on the idea that we are fundamentally one type of person, forced act unlike ourselves in different situations. But the truth is, all of your choices and actions come together to create a portrait of who you really are, regardless of what made you act that way. The way you act when you are in front of people, trying to make your best impression - that is the real you. And the way you act when you are alone, with nobody to judge you - that is the real you, too ;). Humans are dichotomous and complex and astrology allows for that because it, as a study, is complex as well.

Nadir By Sign

Aries: [Libra MC] Need for independence and freedom. Reputation is built on the finer aspects of your personality. People know you by your good looks, first and foremost. They see you as elegant, yet strong; rational and logical. Inwardly, can be prone to dramatic displays of anger, loud demands, bossy, and sharp, biting humor and immense stores of sexual drive or drive in general. Family was very active or extremely ambitious. Learned early on how to be independent. Growing up, might have witnessed a lot of conflict in your family, some of it serious and some of it not. You saw problems with alcoholism, drug addiction, and anger. Unconsciously aggressive or combative.

Taurus: [Scorpio MC] Need for security or physical pleasures. Come off as intense, passionate, mysterious or dark. Family was stable or materialistic. As a child you were always well fed and secure. Parents/guardians gave you a taste for the finer things in life by caring so much about the look and quality of the things in their home. On a darker note they could also be quite controlling in a lot of ways, both over their house and family. Nothing could be done, or touched, or moved, or planned without them having a hand in what was going on. Native can be unconsciously inflexible or possessive.

Gemini: [Sagittarius MC] Need for understanding themselves and world around them. Outwardly can be very philosophical, blunt, straightforward and/or outspoken. When you find yourself alone with your thoughts, you spend a lot of time enjoying your own inner dialogue. And when you are with those few people you are close to, you enjoy a lot of stimulating conversations.  Family is a literal mosaic. Different colors and personalities. Home life was changing constantly. Family was growing and shrinking, moving around, breaking apart and then putting/fitting new pieces together. Childhood was self-expressive or hyper-intellectually focused. Unconsciously erratic, anxious or cunning that can display itself as duplicitousness.

Cancer: [Capricorn MC] Need to seek and give nurturance. Can come off as  determined, hard working, goal-oriented, and very good at what you do. You have a very professional public image that exudes confidence and experience. Family was co-dependent or critical. Growing up your mother was the central figure of your family home, either because she was a single mother or your father was away from home a lot. As a child, you were given more than enough praise and attention. When alone, you take on an almost maternal role in your house, cooking and cleaning and taking care of chores. Often, you will retreat into your bedroom, den or personal workshop and spend a lot of time working on things by solo.  Unconsciously co-dependent or guarded.

Leo: [Aquarius MC] Need for creative self-expression. intelligent, detached connections with other people. Can come off as detached or have this kind “dry intensity” that radiates off of you – you seem to be quietly aloof, cold. When alone, can be quite friendly or show big displays of love to those close to them. An eternal child that will always love fairly tales no matter how old they are. Family was self-involved or warm-hearted. The kid who was told they were special all the time. Everybody in your family (especially your mother) fawned over all the things you did, praising you for every accomplishment and exaggerating all your best qualities. You got everything you wanted. Unconsciously may have a lot of self-doubt.

Virgo: [Pisces MC] Need for efficiency. Comes off as a creative, kind, spiritual, almost ethereal person. People will notice the far-away look, the quiet contentment that hangs around you like a miasma. Draws in both saints and sinners. Though they may present a misty outward appearance, inwardly they keep detailed inventory of everything. Likes work and routine. Family or parent was hyper-critical. Some kind of negativity surrounding you when you were growing up, like fighting, substance abuse, depression, anxiety, or a poor home life. Whether or not you were aware of what your family members were going though, you looked for an escape. May have control freak tendencies.

Libra: [Aries MC] Need for harmony, though possibly difficulty in knowing needs with too much vacillation. Outwardly brave, perhaps a tad bossy, driven, commanding and leader-like with touches of aggression or authoritarianism. inwardly, peace loving, diplomatic, utterly polite, cooperative and friendly to the point of people pleasing. Family could have been quite social or superficial. When you are out interacting with the world you are confrontational and/or competitive. Growing up, you had to share your parent’s attention with other people. You might have had other siblings that got more than you, or they might have had other obligations that took up their time. Unconsciously coy.

Scorpio: [Taurus MC] Need for emotional depth and understanding. Outwardly laid back and grounded. Astonishing work-ethic. Security minded and practical. Inwardly there is a deep well of emotion. Can dwell or obsess. Powerful drive and silently aggressive. Family was secretive or powerful. Unconscious forces outside may have influenced them. Involved in power dynamics. Subconsciously,  memories of the past are littered with alcoholism, abuse, death, trauma, sex, various kinds of manipulation and betrayal.

Sagittarius: [Gemini MC] Need to discover their own truth. Comes off as intelligent, sociable, highly optimistic. Social butterfly. Inwardly may act out personal and grandiose dramas. Family was hyper-ethical or adventurous. Sought to learn and understand other people’s cultures and perspectives. In your childhood, when you were living at home with your family, you were thought of as a very bright child. Energetic, enthusiastic about learning, and always exploring the outside world, you met every new subject with curiosity and an open mind. Teachers and classmates labelled you as the “smart kid”. Unconsciously can seek status, attention or might be prone to judgment.

Capricorn: [Cancer MC] Need for reliability and order. reputation for being determined, hard working, goal-oriented. Family was traditional or repressed emotions. Might feel like you have to “fight for respect.” Family was very restrictive and controlling. Tried to make you into what they wanted you to be rather than accepting you for how you were. When alone in the privacy of your own home, you are emotional, sensitive, and very attached to your belongings and loved ones. Unconsciously self-repressing or pessimistic.

Aquarius: [Leo MC] Need for unconventional and individual stance. Comes off as bubbly, friendly, happy, and attracts attention easily. Inwardly, a loner, detached, intelligent, the furthest thing from a people pleaser. Likes to be left alone to their own devices to study or research. Family was non-traditional or unavailable. Home life might have been chaotic or tumultuous. As a kid you had little control over your life’s direction and had to follow your parents wherever they went. This could mean you were uprooted a lot, maybe a military kid or simply forced into their religion or belief system. Unconsciously somewhat detached from others. Accept anybody for anything, you support them 100%. Not interested in people or affairs/things that do not concern you. Father might have been absent. Unconsciously weird/ unusual.

Pisces: [Virgo MC] Need for wandering or mysticism. Comes off as organized, dissecting, routine-loving and very well-put together. Inwardly, can be emotional, messy, lazy, gullible, but also sensitive, compassionate, empathetic, and completely selfless. Family roots of unclear boundaries. Growing up there was a lot going on between your parents that you didn’t understand. Perhaps born on the verge of some kind of upheaval. Something happened that caused the family break apart before you were born and now they were dealing with the aftermath. Unconsciously over-sensitive or non-committal.

Bruja note:

The key to understanding the patterns and energy of the IC brings balance and equilibrium to our lives as it teaches us how to embrace our past and move forward into our future. How to really grasp and harness the midheaven gifts and promises. There is an inevitable sense of karma and destiny associated with the angles of our charts, and the IC is no exception. Knowing the patterns of the nadir brings consciousness to our underworld. More understanding. It is considered by many astrologers one of, if not THE most important part of our entire chart—because of the depth of understanding it gives us when we really commit to comprehending it. By utilizing the skills and difficulties of our family/ancestors/origins, we are thrusted into our personal journey’s and ultimately our north node or most elevated destinies.  

What sign is your Nadir in? Dissecting and understanding it can bring healing and growth to you and those you’re closely connected with.

#Nadir #IC #Imum coeli #MC vs IC #astro asks #astrology asks #astrology tumblr #astro tumblr #10th house astrology #4th house astrology #bruja tips #Midheaven/imum coeli axis #elevated planets #good question #zodiac signs

[vaindumbass]

The ministry is good for one (1) thing... getting Tonks a date

‘Why-’ Tonks says to the head that is currently sticking out of her fireplace, ‘Why did you ask me for this job.’

Charlie doesn’t even hesitate before answering. ‘Because you speak French fluently, and because you love me and therefore couldn’t say no.’

Mentally, Tonks curses out the Black family and their fucked up traditions. Why French, of all things? Then she corrects herself and blames her mother instead, for keeping this particular tradition. Couldn’t she have gone hunting when she was ten, instead? Bella always thought that was great fun.

Out loud, she replies. ‘I could’ve said no. If I wanted to.’

‘So you want to do this? Good to hear! You can always thank me later, a gift basket would be nice-’

Tonks scoffs at Charlie’s way too wide grin, a laugh threatening to crack out on her face too. ‘You know what, Charlie?’

‘What?’ he says, smugly, as if he’s won.

‘You weren’t completely wrong. I couldn’t have said no.’

‘I know.’

‘You were wrong about one thing, though.’

The fire crackles as Charlie cocks his head. ‘Well?’

Tonks pulls her face into something sad and melancholic to the best of her ability, and looks dramatically into the distance. ‘I don’t love you.’

Charlie’s gasp is loud enough that Tonks almost fears that he’ll douse the flames, somehow. ‘How dare you! Was all this…. a lie?’ After he has stared morosely into the flames for a while, though, he asks: ‘But seriously, babe, what is it?’

The back of Tonks’ shoulders itches a little now that they aren’t joking anymore, and she feels a bit too closely scrutinized. ‘It’s not that bad, okay? You don’t have to look so worried.’

Charlie still looks worried.

‘It’s just- remember how you asked me so that I could translate what she would say?’

‘Sure.’

‘Well, since she’s here partially to improve her English, she told me that I wasn’t really needed.’

‘Okay.’ Charlie says, ‘And?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You wouldn’t be bothered this much by that. I know you, can’t fool me.’

‘Okay so I may have-’

‘May have or you did?’

Tonks ignores him, words spilling out of her. ‘I may have spilled my coffee on her. And she’s so fucking pretty, Charlie, and confident, which I’m apparently attracted to?’

‘There we go,’ He mutters under his breath. Tonks isn’t done.

‘And she doesn’t sugarcoat stuff, you know? So logically I know that she means it when she says that it’s okay, and that she doesn’t mind me ruining her clothes, but what if she secretly hates me now?’

‘Mhm.’

‘She was perfectly kind, though, and have I mentioned how good-looking she is? Name is Fleur, by the way, and sure looks aren’t everything, I change mine on the daily, but the way she looks when she smiles… Only, there’s no excuse for me to stay around her, anymore, and now I’ll never see her again, and she’ll only remember me as that horrible person who ruined her day.’

Charlie’s laugh rings around the room, warm and comfortable, and some ash gets on the carpet when he finally decides to just step out of the fireplace. ‘I’m going to have to stop you there, babe. You’re not just here to speak the language of love-’ After these words, there’s a horrible eyebrow wiggle, and Tonks makes and even weirder face back, just because she can. ‘- but also to show her around!’

‘I don’t even work here anymore! It really is weird that you couldn’t find anyone else who speaks French. I mean- Sirius does?’

‘Yes,’ Charlie responds, while walking around in her house in that comfortable way of his, easily settling down on her couch, ‘because I know Sirius so much better than I know you.’

Tonks lifts up his legs so that there is some space for her to sit, and then keeps one hand curled around his ankle, the other gesturing wildly, almost hitting the lamp that stands near. ‘I don’t know! You both like animals, right?’

‘You know very well that Sirius has adopted a hippogriff. Now, if it’d been a dragon-’

‘Fair enough,’ Tonks says, because while she loves Charlie’s ranting there’s still one topic she’d like clarity on, ‘But still, aren’t there people who speak French and, like, actually work at the ministry?’

Charlie purses his lips. ‘Maybe. But while I am very aro ace I still have eyes and she’s indeed very pretty, and you are very single, so-’

He can’t even finish the sentence before Tonks has thrown a pillow at him. He throws one back, of course, and soon enough they’re two adults in a full-on pillow war, laughing up and until Tonks accidentally punches Charlie in the face.

She gets him some ice and then they just cuddle on the couch for a bit, legs intertwined, and as Charlie tells her about the proper way to clip a dragon’s toenails, she gets a feeling as if she might just be able to handle the whole Fleur thing.

~~~

Tonks is not able to handle the whole Fleur thing. 

They don’t spill their coffee again, they’re trying to be careful now, but she’s already confusing departments, and accidentally pressing all the buttons in the lift, which isn’t really appreciated by anyone.

Fleur just laughs at that. ‘How did you press all of them?’

‘I was-’ Tonks stammers, ‘I was trying to hold on to something so I wouldn’t fall.’

‘Why not hold on to me?’ Fleur asks, a thick French accent coating her words, and Tonks just stares for a while. Is this flirting? Is it a joke that Tonks is simply too dumb to get? Should they respond to this with ‘but then I wouldn’t have fallen for you’ and some finger guns?

Tonks only knows the answer to that last one (it’s ‘no’, in case that wasn’t clear). ‘It’s- erm- I mean-’

Fleur just smiles at them in a way that Tonks wishfully thinks might be flirtatious. Tonks is suddenly very glad blushes don’t really show up on their dark skin.

A voice calls out ‘Department of Magical Games and Sports’ and Tonks and Fleur get out, because this was the next part of the tour.

Fleur, her eyes lingering on the various posters hung on the walls, says, ‘Aren’t people here supposed to be impartial? This must be inefficient.’

‘For sure,’ Tonks says, never one to defend the ministry, ‘it’s all a bit shoddy, as if it’s taped together with duct tape.’ (They very carefully pronounce that last word. Who knows, maybe muggle knowledge will impress Fleur?)

‘Then why do you work for it?’

A laugh curls Tonks lips. ‘I don’t! Me and Moody, that’s my old mentor, have opened a sort of private detective office.’

They aren’t even walking through the corridor anymore. One quidditch poster (The Chudley Cannons) is slightly crinkled where Fleur’s shoulder is leaning on it. She throws a bit of her long blonde hair over her shoulder. ‘Then why are you giving me a tour here?’

With a bit of a crooked grin, Tonks answers: ‘Like I said, a bit shoddy.’

Tonks likes the fact that they’re talking now, likes it very much, and therefore they try to lean on the wall just as casually as Fleur does, but they miscalculate, and the ground suddenly comes at them with an alarming speed.

‘Watch out!’ Fleur says, from somewhere very, very close, a flowery smell suddenly surrounding them. One of Fleur’s arms is around their upper arm, the other one curled around their waist. Fleur is very warm. Coincidentally, so are Tonks’ cheeks.

They get up quickly, trying not to elbow Fleur, avoiding eye contact just a little bit. ‘When you said I could hold on to you, I didn’t think I’d need it this quickly.’

Fleur snorts. ‘I am not all too surprised, honestly.’

‘That’s fair,’ Tonks' heart is still beating wildly.

There’s a bit of a silence, and Tonks wrecks their brain for something to talk about. They don’t want this to be over just yet. Luckily, Fleur speaks up.

‘How is being a metamorphmagus? I am part-Veela, and I know other magical beings are immune for that, but I do not know much more. What do you change most often?’

‘My hair,’ Tonks laughs, raking a hand through it (short and a deep blue today), ‘It’s partly apart from my body, in a way, so it takes a bit more effort to change, but once it’s a different colour it stays that way without any effort.’

Fleur cocks her head. ‘It takes effort to change?’

‘For sure. Not all that much, but if I change too much for too long I get a headache. I would never change my skin tone, but if I did I’d get really grouchy, most probably. Oh! And I sometimes change my nose and such as a party trick.’

‘Sounds fun,’ Fleur says, a smile playing on her lips. Tonks seriously considers changing their nose into the one of that squid in the cartoon Hermione showed her, before realizing that that wouldn’t impress Fleur, but rather the opposite.

‘It is! But I get tired if I do it too much. That’s also why, on days that gender is-’ Tonks makes a vague hand gesture, ‘- I sometimes wear a binder, because while I can make my chest flatter, sometimes I’ll be concentrating on some work and suddenly, bam!’ They mimick an explosion in front of their chest, pushing their hands forward.

Fleur snickers. ‘Poor you.´ That sounds like the end of the conversation, but Tonks has finally had enough time to get their brain to work again, and they’ve come up with a new topic.

‘So, what are you here for?’

‘Did you not get that information?’ (Tonks had never said it was a good topic)

‘No, I did, but I thought you might be able to explain it better?’

‘Oh.’ Fleur says, ‘well, I am looking into the practical applications of magic, but specifically on magical creatures. Dragons, for example, can be lured to sleep with a sleeping charm, but can resist most hexes without any effort.

‘Giants, who can also resist hexes, can easily resist a sleeping charm, but curses can seriously harm them, and that’s already fascinating, but I’m going to look into what effects other kinds of magic have, outside of wizardry, starting with Veela magic, because I happen to possess that, and that's not even talking about how that magic works. Only female Veela have any sort of non-wixard magical power, but the magic is not stored in the uturus as one might think, because I do not have one, but still have magic. How does the magic know that?’

Fleur had been talking slowly and deliberately ever since Tonks had met her, as if she was weighing the words, remembering the pronunciation, but now she talks faster, a flush on her cheeks.

‘But I'm getting of topic. I will mostly work with stuff like: why does Veela magic affect unicorns but not dragons? Why does it affect giants but not metamorphmagi? And if it doesn’t affect metamorphmagi, then why do you still get so flustered?’

‘I-’ Tonks says, ‘Erm-’

‘Do not worry,’ Fleur says, smiling ever-so-slightly, ‘I think I know the answer. Would you like to go on a date with me?’

Honestly, Tonks didn’t think a dingy corner lined with quidditch posters could ever be romantic, but Fleur makes it work, with the soft lighting on her cheek, and that fucking gorgeous smile on her lips. ‘Yes,’ they answer (was there ever another option?), ‘I’d like that very much.’

In a sudden rush of courage (what are they, a gryffindor?) they ask: ‘Can I kiss you?’

Fleur nods, and they discover that yes, Fleur’s smile tastes as wonderful as it looks.

#flonks #in my timezone its still femslash february so im saying it counts #even tho this isnt completely FEMslash yall get what i mean #fleur delacour #nymphadora tonks #charlie weasley #to anyone wondering: yes this is what prompted the 'charlie weasley calls his friends 'babe'' post #and im right!!!! #oneshot #mywriting #i took hp lore and RAN with it #fleur is just so smart tho.... that deserves its own place #and moody and tonks ruining a private detectives business is actually something that can be so personal- #also just so yall know charlie doesnt work for the ministry EITHER the reason why he could still get tonks the job is. well. #its explained in the story

[yeojaa]

( TO THE MOON AND BACK. )

You use your one brain cell for love.  It doesn’t always end well.

pairing.  kth x (named) f!reader.  jjk x (named) f!reader.

genre +  rating.   non-idol!au.  there’s some fluff and there’s definitely some angst.  general.    

tags / warnings.  none, except for a lot of emotion. 😐😐

wc.  4.9k

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​ as per usual (i owe you my life) and @yeoldontknow​ for tolerating me when i came crying into our messages.

author note.  this was a commission for the endlessly lovely @1088x1088​.  thank you so, so much for loving this series enough to support it.  it was a ton of fun to write (even though this chapter did really hurt).  finding my voice again was a bit of a struggle, but i hope you enjoy it!  i’m sorry this was late! 

chapter 12. 

You can feel the difference in the air the moment you step out of the building and into the arms of your bouncing, bubbly boyfriend.  There’s something about him today - an intensity that radiates out of him, refracts off his edges like an aureate coin.  He’s got the biggest grin on his face - so wide and unabashed you think he doesn’t even need the umbrella he’s brought along - that the sheer power of his joy might be enough to push the rain clouds back.  It stretches wide, brighter than the summer sun, and spills light into darkness, chasing away all the spiders.  It warms you from your toes through to the tips of your fingers, filling your veins with lovely golden thread, dust that settles in shades of yellow. 

“Did you win the lottery or something?”  The question is paired with a sweet kiss to his cheek, your entire body sagging comfortably against his as he wraps his free arm tightly around your shoulders and mirrors the gesture.  Your cheek tingles where his lips land.  You think he might be a wizard, magicking away all the hardships of your day.

“No, even better.”  The excitement is nearly bursting out of him, seeping out at the seams that hardly hold him together.  How he hasn’t simply told you yet is beyond you but you know Taehyung’s a bit dramatic - loves the build up as much as the climax - so you wait patiently, linking your hand through his elbow when you move onto the sidewalk.  It’s easy to fall into this routine:  the one you’ve perfected over the last few months.  It never feels stagnant, never anything less than a warm hug on a cold day.  You find comfort in that.

The sun sits low on the horizon, casting long shadows over the street.  They throw shapes across Taehyung’s face, bathing his features in darkness when you step beneath an awning and out of the downpour.  His eyes never stop twinkling - like stars against the night sky, lighting up even the places where the rays can’t reach. 

“We’re hosting an exhibit for local artists.”  He’s trying to be careful, hold himself together.  Still, you can hear the way he speaks a little too fast, too quick to be nonchalant.  Bite back a laugh when the words tumble into each other, failing under their restraints.  “The director asked me to curate it.”

He stops and looks at you then, hopeful and bright and so brilliant you imagine the sun’s disappeared behind the clouds and found a new home in his smile.  You know how much this means to him - how long he’s worked for this, how it’s cost him his parents’ affection and long hours that he’ll never get back.  It goes without saying he deserves this, this incredible opportunity. 

It doesn’t do it justice, but you offer your congratulations regardless, slipping support seamlessly between syllables.  Blending the words with a squeeze of his arm, a delighted little giggle that spirals into the air like a Christmas orange, tart and sweet.  “That’s amazing, Tae!”  

He’s a million miles over the moon, eyes waning, lost to a flood of emotion as he beams down at you.  

“I did all the research and she was happy with it and—”  A twinkling laugh breaks up the excitement, steeping it heavily in the sound as he exhales a big breath that seems to steal a little bit more of his coherence.  “I just—it’s huge.  It’s next month but the director’s given me the go-ahead.  Me!”  

You decide you’d really like to bottle this moment forever, to keep it on a shelf in your thoughts.  You think it’d be the best cure for a bad day, better than any chocolate, more comforting than an afternoon nap.

“Of course you, Tae.”  You’re matching his smile, cradling his jaw in the small of your palms.  Thumbs brush over the seam of his bottom lip, the freckle that dots the edge of his nose.  “I’m so, so proud of you.  You’ve worked so hard for this.”  You know the words aren’t possibly enough but you gift them anyway because it’s still nice to hear.  Everyone deserves that recognition, kindness to hold you up like ribbons, to keep your head held high. 

“Thank you, jagi.”  He sighs a soft sound, all rounded edges and a deep, abiding satisfaction that fills every inch of his expression.  It’s still there when he begins walking again, guiding you back to his favourite place with you at his side.  You fit exactly as you should, tucked under his arm, the tips of his fingers brushing over the teddy bear fabric of your coat.  

“Have you told the others yet?”  

“No, I’m going to tell them at dinner.”  The pride that colours his tone is shades of yellow - marigolds sprouting between vowels, sunflowers encapsulating consonants.  “I want Jungkookie to show his work in it.”  

He must not feel the way you stiffen at his side, how the blood runs cold in your veins and sticks you to the spot like an icicle.  You play it off well enough, tripping over your own two feet and righting yourself as if it were all just a matter of misplaced steps.  

(In truth, you could’ve sworn your heart had plummeted through your feet, all the way to the molten core.  You can feel it burning to a crisp, setting every nerve aflame at the mere thought.)

“I don’t want him to feel like… it’s a handout though.”  

“He won’t,”  you reassure around the strange, familiarly silhouetted lump in your throat.  You are intimately familiar with Jungkook’s work - what spreads over canvas in lovely lilac shapes, stark ink bringing relief to watercolour.  You know who inspires the evening skylines, the immaculate and yet effortless scenes he brings to life with strokes of pen, paint, charcoal. (Or, rather, you knew.  Things could be different now.)  Who graces - had graced - the rolls of film, painted in sepia tones until brought to life by a careful hand.

(You have a feeling they aren’t - that they’re just as they’ve always been.  Too much the same to be safe.  It’d be impossible to miss, even with blinders on.  You and Jungkook would always be complicated.) 

“He’s worked really hard.”  Taehyung’s more or less speaking to himself, carrying a one-sided conversation as you duck back beneath sheets of rain, droplets rolling off the umbrella he carries and splashing all over your toes.  Suddenly, the torrential downpour feels fitting, as if the skies have opened up to soothe the burn beneath your skin.  “It’d be nice if he just caught a break, you know?  Something to give him more confidence.”

He, as well as you, knows just how much of himself the youngest puts into his work.  How every canvas, every roll of film, represents a corner of his heart.  Offers a glimpse into his thoughts.  

You, possibly more than anyone.  But Taehyung doesn’t know that and it certainly isn’t your place to say, so you simply nod along, humming in agreement as you wander the quiet Seoul street.  (It’ll be busy soon, once you pass from the residential area into the bustle of nighttime and exploration.  Not even the rain can keep people away, everyone far too eager to catch up amidst a crowd of smoke and drinking games.  You’re used to it though - used to being dragged out by the ragtag group for their impromptu yet regular weekly dinner dates.) 

“I’m sure he’ll say yes.”  It’s all you can offer as your boyfriend rambles on, lost in his own world

“Really?” 

The amount of hope - strung up on fairy lights, dim and yet somehow so full - rings crystal clear in Jungkook’s voice, tearing your thoughts from the piece of pork belly you’re carefully grilling.  You do your best not to jerk your head up, already all too aware of the topic.  You remind yourself it’s not your place and you flip the slab, gaze trained on the fat that renders out and slides over the metal grill.

It’s hard to do but you weather the storm, quietly observant as the excitement level at the table turns to eleven.  With a group of four it’d be boisterous;  with a table of nine, it’s a cacophony of sound, rising above the din of the bustling restaurant.  It kicks above the chorus of cheers and clattering utensils, as if this moment means so much more.  (It does.)

“You think I’d joke about something like this?”  Taehyung’s doing his best to play it cool, to convey something suave and reassured, but there’s the tell-tale wobble of his words, the way his knee bounces beside yours, nervous energy thrumming through his frame like a livewire.  It practically pours from his fingertips, shooting out past his teeth as his mouth shapes into that familiar boxy grin that belies his delight.

Not that Jungkook’s any better.  

On your other side, his hand’s tensing and relaxing over the tabletop, lips pulling and pursing around thoughts he hasn’t fully formulated.  He’d always been someone who had to be moving - tapping his toes, shaking his leg, simply shimmying in his seat - but this is something else.  It’s as if he’s on the precipice of a realisation, of diving headfirst into his lifelong dream.

(Which, you suppose he is.  He’s wanted this forever, just like Taehyung.  The break he so wholly deserved.  It warms your heart even as it stills it, stutters it uncomfortably in the small of your chest.)

“I’m just—”  Speechless seems to be the appropriate word, because Jungkook simply trails off, wonder in his eyes, his expression that of a child on Christmas.  “Thanks, hyung.”  It’s a rare occurrence, usually offered with that sly bunny smile of his, but it’s dressed in gratitude now, year’s worth of tenderness occupying the spaces between each syllable.

“Don’t thank me.”  It comes, dismissive and yet still just as soft.  Rounded by an awareness that exists only within this group, a tenderness that blooms and blooms and never withers.  “Just make me look good.”

A teasing comment echoes from across the table - that’s impossible from someone who looks and sounds suspiciously like Kim Seokjin - and your group dissolves into a puddle of laughter, the chorus of amusement dissolving above your heads.  

This is too good an opportunity, not the time for your selfish concern.  You swallow your worry with a dab of ssam and a crunch of lettuce.

You miss the look Jungkook shoots you.

He has two weeks.  

Two weeks to select five pieces he thinks will showcase the best parts of himself, the depth of his dedication, the quality of his passion.  Two weeks to go through his extensive portfolio, to rummage through harddrives and pick through his canvases.  Two weeks to determine what home means to him.

It’s certainly not the hardest thing in the world - Jungkook imagines it starts with the words Jeon and ends with a certain group of six idiots - but it still leaves him stumped, sitting at his desk for three long hours as he pours through folders, thankful he’d had the wherewithal to name things properly.  (None of the Aug17uuuuuuughfuck.raw files of his college days.)

It lightens his load, keeps him from upending his entire setup and throwing it out the window in frustration.  Not that he doesn’t still want to.  He very much does.

But perhaps it isn’t the hundreds of images that’s the issue.  Maybe it’s just one - the same one he’s been staring at for the better part of the evening, unable to move on even when he wants to, tapping over his mouse yet never actuating enough to pull him onto the next slide.

It sits front and centre on his screen and he can’t look away;  drinks his fill of it like a man drowning at sea;  savours it like a king at his final feast.  A photo developed with an accidental light leak and how fitting that is, as if all the sunshine has been captured in the single click, trapped behind the shutter for him and him only. 

You’ve always been that to him, though.  Crystalline and beautiful, with light catching off your edges, refracting from every angle to spell something like I love you; with fireflies at the tips of your fingers, guiding him home in the dark;  with the summer sun strung between your teeth, filling him with warmth.  

Could he use this?  Would it be too much?  

More importantly, how would you react?  Had your story ended, chapters of friendship folded between flat pages and tucked within a shelf to accumulate dust?  To sit among the tomes long forgotten, never reached for, barely worthy of a second read? 

Was this meant to disappear, just like you had?  What did that mean for him - for his future?  Were you meant to take all the possibilities with you, tucking them alongside your cotton candy laughter, the sly turn of your smile?  Were they lost to the tangle of your hair, braided into a knot he’d never been able to unravel?

Jungkook hates feeling like this - all the uncertainty swallowing him whole and spitting him out;  leaving him black and blue and bruised all over;  dressing him in shades of grey that only seem to fade with each pass through the wringer. 

A part of him wonders whether he should just ask.  Surely you’d answer the phone, sound so pretty carried over the airwaves he’d probably forget himself.  

Could he find the words?  Would you laugh in his face?

He stares at the photo and wishes it held all the answers, that the light would offer something more than beauty, more than memories that feel more like nightmares.  

Half your face glares back at him, a silhouette of the girl he’d been helplessly in love with.  Rays balance across your cheekbone and cut through him like a knife.  When he blinks, you’re still there but his heart’s all the worse for it, riddled with nicks and tears.

He’ll choose another, he decides. 

Finally, he finds the strength, skips to the next preview - and regrets it almost as much as the first.

(This was his fault, of course.  Jungkook had spent so long living in a world with you, saddled at your side, two pieces inexplicably interwoven.  Of course there’d be thread still, a red string of fate coiled all the way around his heart, hanging uselessly at his side, snipped by hands that weren’t his own, now gone to tatters.)

It wouldn’t matter so much if it were someone else, if the bits of you weren’t so stark, holding his attention like a star in the sky, endlessly bright and unrelenting.  Maybe if he could pretend it was someone else, his hands wouldn’t shake, a tremor in his chest from the way his heart bounces about, demands to be let out, to lay alongside yours.  

As it stands, it is you - brought to life by his hands, overlaid in watercolour and black and a blanket of regret.  The shapes are impossible to miss:  the curve of your hip, rounded and warm, peeking beneath a wash of colour;  the river of your hair, the wayward strands that curl across your cheek and tickle the stack of silver that lines your ear;  the peek of your tattoo, embossed across your ribs, hidden beneath thin layers of paint. 

The longer he looks, the worse it feels.  A white pith of a lemon, bitter on his tongue, stinging all the cuts he’s never taken the time to seal up.  That cry out now, echo the same sadness he’s felt for the last year.  

Was there anything you hadn’t touched?  Something that didn’t carry you in its hands?

He imagines there has to be.

And yet, as he goes along, clicks through image after image, he’s only left with reminders.  Figments of you with blood-stained teeth and scarred flesh, sharks that patrol his thoughts and bite chunks when he ventures too close.  He hadn’t meant to dive this deep - lost somewhere amongst the shipwreck of your friendship, a once beautiful thing now rotten and rusted, devoured by darkness.  The empty hulls aren’t where he wants to be, caught on broken anchors and torn flags, sinking deeper and deeper.

He doesn’t know how to get out. 

It’s absolutely perfect, because of course it is.  Taehyung has put every waking hour into this, coordinating with vendors and artists and hardly sleeping a wink.  The walls are painted, artistry strung up for all to see, picturesque beneath an array of lights.  There’s not a thing out of place, each piece given their due, framed neatly with thoughtful text painstakingly written by your boyfriend.

There are dozens of people in attendance - the turnout the gallery had hoped for and yet still has Taehyung giddy, eyes wide like a child’s, wonderment written into every lovely facet of his expression.

You’re delighted for him, completely over the moon with how happy he is, pride rolling off him in waves that you’d gladly sink beneath.  You whisper words of affection - pride, support - purring them into the warmth of his palms when he sandwiches your face between them and laughs so loudly you swear there’s no other sound in the world.

“Can you believe it?”  This boy before you isn’t the Taehyung you know, carefully composed.  He’s a comet through the night sky, illuminating, fluorescent, lit from the inside out.  Glowing so bright it hurts your eyes, makes you blink once, then twice, then another time just to capture the moment against the backs of your eyelids.  (You wish you had your camera with you - something to allow you to remember this moment forever, process it and store it in your pocket for rainy days.)  

Your laughter comes in tandem, overjoyed for your love, for all he’s worked for and all he’s now achieved.  It spills forth in bell chimes, silver in your ears, and you catch his hands in your own, fingers caught together.  “Of course I can.”  The distance between you becomes nothing, barely a breath passing as you press your lips to his, offering as much affection as you can in the tiny gesture.  “I knew you could do it.”

“Really?”  He doesn’t doubt you.  Doesn’t even really doubt himself.  But he asks anyways and you don’t mind giving, folding your support into another kiss, another squeeze of his hand.  

“You can do anything, Kim Taehyung.”

He animates, a coin-operated boy whose sole currency is your words of affirmation.  Springs to life with adoration in his step, a giddy smile that eats up everything else and wanes his eyes into crescents.  Peaks like the sun above the clouds, endlessly bright - a supernova.  “I love you.”

“I know,”  you answer with your heart in your hands - in his - when they drop to his sides, fingers still intertwined.  

He stares at you expectantly, unabashedly, waiting for the words he wants to hear.  (A man with the world at his feet, whose heart still flutters for you.)  “And?”

“And?”  You parrot, cheeks round, a well of teasing growing in the dimple of your left cheek.  It spills forth when his mouth pouts, turns this way and that before settling into an expression that’s utterly undeniable, the perfect blend of endearing and infuriating.  When you relent, it’s with further laughter, a nudge of your hip against his as he pulls you close, cementing you to his side.  “I love you too.”

You’d been prepared for the people (the professionals, the journalists, all the friends and family, anyone who was anyone gathered to attend) and the chaos (your friends - all of them running amok while simultaneously on their best behaviour, biting back laughter, echoing words of encouragement). 

What you hadn’t been prepared for?  

This.

Standing before a painted portrait of yourself, blown up ten feet and hung in the centre of the gallery for all to see.  Full-lipped and grinning, with hands hiding half your face, dark hair piled atop your head and a bandana knotted below your ear.  A picture that you can hear - your laughter sounding off the page, reminiscent of that night so many months ago, standing at the edge of the water, the ocean calling you out to sea.  The sky streaked in colours you could never hope to replicate, hues that blend and bleed and build into something glorious, beautiful, ephemeral.  An arm that reaches for whoever has taken the photo, light reflecting off the sheen of silver, of gold, of the gems on your nails.  

You recognise it in a heartbeat - one that feels like it goes too long, as if it’s skipped not one, not two, but three beats - that thunders loudly in your ears the moment everything snaps into place.

(And oh, how it does.  A hundred memories that shudder into a single image and tell the story of an entire summer.

Afternoons at Jagalchi, amid the smell of fish and flesh, eating to the point of gluttony.  On the shores with sunshine at your fingertips and a hand in yours, endless possibilities stretching as far as the eye could see.  Staring up into the sky night after night, admiring the stars packed against the dark and yet always drawn back to the brightest one at your side, a heavenly body hidden within the silhouette of your closest friend.

Your head on his shoulder during the train ride there and back, the quiet offered by his presence, the comfort found in his form.  All the little pieces of himself that had somehow found their way to you:  your pinkies intertwined, his dark hair spilling over yours, his breath that came low and slow, condensing between you and turning your cheeks ruddy.

What had felt like a lifetime away - seven hundred galaxies apart, never to be found again, engulfed by a black hole of your own creation.  

What now feels like it’s right at your feet, so close you might touch it.  That echoes in your chest, a spectre living within your bones come back to haunt you.)

“Pretty, huh?”  Hums the voice at your side, filled with too much pride - for himself and his friend, for all they’ve accomplished.  Taehyung has no idea, blissfully unaware, heartbreakingly handsome as he studies the image alongside you, lets his stare rove across the contours of the woman’s cheekbones, the shape of her mouth, pulled wide in a smile that might as well carry the world in it.

There’s something familiar about the girl in the painting, something that calls to him, draws him in and keeps him anchored.  He wonders what it is, makes a note to ask once Jungkook arrives.  

Your answer comes belated, disconnected and strange, a voice too far away to be picked up clearly.  (You don’t mean it to - try to swallow down the emotion that crests and crests like a terrifying wave above your head.)  “Very.”

“Kook mentioned a girl a few years ago, so I think it’s her.”  How he speaks is thoughtful, as if he isn’t sure how much to say.  Doesn’t want to overstep even as he offers these tiny bits of information - things he thinks you have no idea about, that’s the same thing that lives within your bones, settled like bedrock that cannot be eroded.  (Guilt gnaws at you, turns its teeth cruel and unrelenting and licks the salt from your wounds like the back of a spoon.  You swallow it down, listen quietly, quietly, quietly and try to slow the discomfort growing like weeds, the blooming of tiger lilies in the small of your chest.)  

“Really?”  

“Yeah.”  Taehyung’s conversational, adoring, indulgent.  He hooks his arm around your shoulders and holds you close, unaware of the turmoil that turns your insides to ash.  He holds you like you’re precious - a sunbeam caught in his hands, just for him.  

If only he knew.

“Do you want to see the rest?”  There’s an eagerness that spills forth, tacks his words to one another and turns them into a single breath.  He inhales all the bad and dresses you in nothing but good, pins stars into your hair when he fixes you with that smile and pulls you along, further into the gallery with a hop in his step.

You should say no;  you can’t find the words.

So you follow him to his next destination - to another version of you.  Another photo, grainy and overexposed, intimate in its detail.  A faceless blur, made alive by light, artificial and too white, casting long shadows where there should be none.  It’s easier to imagine this is someone else - a girl worthy of this love, of all the emotion captured within the single image.  (Someone who could carry the weight of Jungkook’s affection without dropping it, whose hands would be a suitable home for the heart he’s now offered up, laid out ripe for the picking.  Sugar sweet and saccharine, held aloft by a branch that threatens to give away.)

The truth is in the details, though, and you see them for all they are.  The dainty thread that loops your wrist - mirrored within the frame before you.  It sits evident in the freckles on your arms, the wayward beauty marks sprinkled upon your skin, constellations that should have names - do have names, whispered by the boy at your side. 

“He’s really got a good eye, right?”  There’s that pride again, full-bodied, like a parent with macaroni art stuck to the fridge.  It’s sticky and honeyed, bright with affection, lemon tart and yellow - sunshine streaming past like the warmest day in July.  It further cements the relationship he has - that they all have - one built upon years of friendship, of togetherness you cannot begin to fathom.

The guilt rears its head again, roars like an angry beast.  You bite it back, catch its tail between your teeth and nod along, unfocus your eyes as best you can.  The longer you look, the more it grows, spiny and angry and demanding of attention.

“He really does.”

Taehyung’s satisfied with that, too caught up in his own delight to notice the stillness, the quiet.  It’s a silence he overlooks, sweeps past without a backwards glance.  “There’s one more I want to show you.” The joy is unbridled, eating up every part of him, and your heart thumps feebly in your chest, kicked around by two pairs of feet.  “I saw it and it made me think of you.”

You’re surprised this time - because it isn’t you.  It’s not the shape of your shoulders or the turn of your wrist.  It’s not a half-hidden smile, the dozens of tell-tale signs that would give you away.  It’s something far worse, that sticks to your lungs and makes it hard to breathe, wet paper towels plastered over your airways like papier-mâché. 

It pains you when you step forward to drink in the colours, the texture that lays everything in nostalgia.  An image you recognise because you have the same one in your home, hung upon your wall, taken by your own hand.  

Jungkook in an infinity room, bathed in a million little lights.  

Except this is a painting, painstakingly recreated, with shadows deepened and white ink spread throughout.  One of your most precious memories laid in gouache.

“I swear I’ve seen it before.”  It’s a throwaway thought, more for himself than for you, but it breaks you apart, crumbles the foundation you’ve been carefully laying.  It kicks your knees right out from beneath you and you swear you’d fall if not for the comfort of his side, the way he holds you up and inspects you curiously.  “Are you okay?”

He looks at you with nothing but tenderness in his eyes;  you unwind beneath his stare, sinew and bone unfurling, realigning, forming into someone worthy of his love.  You tell yourself nothing else matters, that all the what ifs pale in comparison to this - how he looks at you as if you’d hung the stars in the sky;  as if you’re more than just a girl who has his heart;  as if you hold all the answers to the universe.   

“Fine,”  you answer, even as you aren’t, as the ground beneath your feet threatens to give way and send you to an early grave.  Even as you cannot tear your eyes from the painting, terrified and awestruck, too many emotions turning your senses to nonsense.

You wonder if Taehyung can hear the tremble of your breath, feel it all the way through into the centre of his own chest.  You wonder what he reads into it, whether he worries for you.  You wonder if he can love a monster like you, who has kept these secrets under lock and key, tucked away into a far corner riddled with cobwebs and spiders and a fine layer of dust. 

You wonder and wonder and then you have your answer when he speaks again, something in his voice that steals your attention, pins it directly behind the light in his eyes.

“Don’t you have this in your house?”

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @codeinebelle​

#ficswithluv #magicshopnet #thebtswritersclub #networkbangtan #heartsforbts #bts #bts au #bts fic #bts imagine #bts fluff #bts angst #bts jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #work.zip #drabble.zip #jungkook.doc #ttmab.doc

[bxllafanficc]

¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plisetsky x reader)

(part seven)

Part one. Masterlist!

Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none

*Yuri's POV*

(Next week)

A week had passed by in a rather slow pace. Yuri's recovery seemed to never end when it had just been a few days. But those days were spent sleeping and eating, using his phone and sleeping some more. Mostly he had no one to talk to since everyone were busy with their own lives. Especially (Y/n) who had to keep her inner performer alive at all times. Her coach came with the idea of hosting a smaller gig where (Y/n) would perform about two or three numbers for the people of Japan. It was planned out as a small nightclub gig at first but the numbers of interested in Japan rose over the charts and well... (Y/n) said that she didn't want to let anyone down. Though her coach was apparently hesitant into taking more than a hundred people. 'Three numbers are too little for a concert.' They said but the people of Japan insisted on paying for the price a concert ticket anyway.

(Y/n) had told him this two days after his fever started. He remembered it made him scoff at how she decided the ticket would only cost a quarter of what a normal concert ticket would then. He had told her it was a ridiculous way of thinking.

He barely saw her after the first day of his fever. The way Yuri had taken a hold of her hand and fallen asleep... She waited until he woke up. Well, not exactly waited. She fell asleep at the edge of his bed.

And since that, the two of you barely talked during the days. They barely even met before she went to bed because she spent every waking hour to practice her numbers with her backup dancers. She still made you breakfast when she head the time though.

Yuri's glad it would soon be over and he could go back to normal. Everyone had been attending to him like he was some child and he felt like a huge burden. He had told Victor that he wished (Y/n) especially wouldn't just dismiss his attempts at doing things on his own just because he couldn't get out of bed with single effort. 'Right, she told me about that! You fell on your face right after while trying, didn't you?' He had replied.

So... yeah... Yuri wanted things to return to normal real fast. Yakov had promised him that he would get to start his session with (Y/n) as soon as the music for the program was set. And that was what Victor had been helping him with a couple times. It was hard to find something he wanted to use. Everything felt overused and boring. Just another performance. Yuri didn't want it to pass as that. He wanted to stand out and earn his gold medal for real just as last year. Now was also really the year of improvement so the music had to be well thought through. He was certainly going to take advantage of having a coach for emotional performances with him this season as well. Meaning, his free skate program was already set to be something hurtful and strong. Not love, he already did that. Something far more serious. He wanted the audience to cry after his performance. Everyone should be bawling. Yakov, piglet, Victor and even (Y/n).

Most important of all, no one would be expecting him to do a program with such deep meaning. Because he was one to avoid it in the past.

His short program should be something upbeat and flashy. He wanted the choreography so intense that he'd be coughing up blood at the end of the performance, if that was possible. So the music had to make the pulse of the audience rise when hearing it. Meaning, the music would be in the rock genre. And he already had just the song for it.

This performance would show off his skills and flexibility as well as the importance of his stamina since the entire program would be non-stop step sequences and jumps throughout almost the entire music. Since he intended to be in better shape than ever before before the competition started, he felt no point in holding back on anything. If he played it safe, then what was the point?

"Ah! Good morning Yuri! I come bearing gifts!" Victor busted the door open with his foot and stumbled inside the room, balancing a tray in his hand. The tray was set down in front of him and Victor sat down at the end of Yuri's bed.

"Where's (Y/n)?" Yuri was truly surprised to see Victor being the one to bring you the breakfast today. It had been her until now. And he hadn't even seen as much as her face today since she left so early.

"Ouch. I'm replaced already? I can't go on knowing I'm not your favorite anymore, you know." Victor put a dramatic hand to his forehead and fell backwards onto Yuri's legs. The tray with the breakfast threatened to tumble and Yuri made an effort to stabilize it. It was bacon and eggs with apple slices. A part of him felt a little sad that the slices weren't in the shape of stars...

"You were never my favorite, old man. And you didn't answer my question." Yuri picked up the fork and pointed it towards the man slopped unto the bed end. He ignored the sad pout he received and took a bite of the apple cut into pieces. Each slice were to large and it didn't even taste the same even though they were of the same apples like yesterday. The eggs were decent and the bacon slightly undercooked. Victor's efforts to cook for the household during the day were appreciated of course. But there was no wonder why (Y/n) stood for the head of the dinner at days when her schedule wasn't as crazy.

"She's practicing like mad. Called her dancers to say that she would be starting a few hours ahead of time because she got an energy boost. She wants the show to be at her best efforts possible."

"I haven't even seen her today. How can she practice like a maniac when she's probably already learned her numbers flawlessly?"

Victor was watching Yuri with a funny look. Probably wondering where all those questions came from.

"I think the show is a way for her to relax."

Say what? Going out of bed before sunrise and coming back from practice just mere hours before midnight could never be considered relaxation. Yuri would never be able to pull that off. That was an insane view of the word relaxing, definitely.

"The steam and demands from her competition in We are voice are currently lifted off her shoulders like heavy weights, you know. This is probably just fun to her. She doesn't have to compete with anyone. I think it gives her a sense of relief."

Yuri stopped eating and thought a little extra on what Victor said.

Yes. She was always stressed in every video where a fan or a nosy reporter came out of nowhere and started recording. Yuri had seen those videos. Especially the one where the random person happened to record the exact moment her mind broke down and she had a breakdown in front of a large crowd. Now there was no denying that Yuri sees (Y/n) as the most weirdest and ridiculous being alive. The way she is so determined to get her way and how much she cares for strangers she's never met. Yuri kind of still consider the two of them to be strangers, even after two weeks being with each other on a daily basis. Her eyes are also too intense for anyone to be up close with to her face and as if that wasn't enough, she's also a morning person and that's already a big warning sign to stay away from a person.

But even though he had had this mental conversation with him many times. Even though he agreed that he disliked her; he couldn't help but being captivated by her performances.

It felt so weird seeing her cry like that just minutes before her performance and then watching her going on stage having the time of her life. There was no doubt she loved her fans and performing on stage but that was one of those moments where Yuri really got to see the mind behind the happy smile. It was the first time he had seen her crying or feeling a negative emotion. It's still the first but he got a taste of her irritated self not so long ago.

It made Yuri think about her performance that day. It was a remarkable song filled with sheerness and excitement and her eyes were still wet with tears as she got up on stage.

"Remember (Y/n) performing 'Animal' during the acappella collaboration sequence?"

"Yes! One of my favorites. She was so happy on stage that day." While it had been true that she found happiness, it's not to ignore how broken she felt right before. 'Animal' by Neon Trees (A/N: listen to the Glee version of the song for the best acapella dynamic!) Was one of (Y/n)'s best performances, according to Yuri. He had watched it on repeat just this morning. There's really nothing special to the song in itself. It was the way she delivered every word and tune with such bravery after her internal battle like that. Her emotional response has always been on point but this particular song was something completely real and touching with her tears glistening in the corner of her eyes the entire performance. The tears of sadness had been replaced with joy and she had genuinely just been having a great time with the acapella group at her side, cheering and jumping around on stage with stars in her eyes.

'Oh, oh

I want some more

Oh, oh

What are you waiting for?

Say goodbye to my heart tonight'

The chorus were always his favorite part. Maybe it was the interpretation of the love-hate relationship the words of the lyrics intended. (Y/n) was belting out 'what are you waiting for' with such passion even though it was hardly a difficult song to perform.

'Here we are again

I feel the chemicals kickin' in

It's gettin' heavier and

I wanna run and hide

I wanna run and hide'

The short verse got him every time. The way her eyes watered at the end and then were immediately blown away by the chorus once again. The way she let go of her sadness and let her happy thoughts consume her. No, she let the song consume her and gave the song a completely different touch never done before.

Yuri had lost count of the time he'd watched it and he knew the choreography and song in and out by now. It was mainly intended for the purpose of studying her expression and getting some kind of inspiration for his music choice. He wanted his theme of his music choice for the free skate program to be 'to let go'. If there's any theme harder than love, then it's letting go of the thing you love. And not just what you love. Letting go to be able to love as well. Whether it's love for yourself or another person. There are countless interpretations and that's what (Y/n) had performed that day, with no intention whatever of doing it in such a way.

"I have... I have chosen the music for my program. At the inspiration of t-that performance."

Now don't get Yuri wrong. He'd never admit it to anyone that (Y/n) had been an inspiration to his free skate. He would probably had figured out the idea anyway, it would just had taken a little longer. And her performance was his own way to interpret it so he'd been the one to come up with the decision anyway. So in a way, she didn't have anything to do with it. And his choice of song would be far more intense and heartbreaking than anything Neon Trees could produce. And so Yuri told Victor about his music choices even though he had no clue why he put that kind of trust into the man.

"Those are some really clever choices when combined with your own vision. I'm almost a little jealous. Maybe I should just hire (Y/n) as my coach myself. It seems like it did wonders for you already!" The man laughed and patted Yuri on the shoulder.

"Nonsense. She hasn't began coaching me yet. She had no part in this." Yuri pushed away the empty tray to make room for sitting up and crossing his legs.

"Oh, but it seems like you learned a lot by ogling her all day long though." The smirk Yuri received made his teeth grit and his ears flush.

"I-i wasn't ogling her!"

"Then what were you doing exactly? I heard 'Animal' playing for a good 30 minutes from the wall connected to the room beside yours." Victor laughed at the startled freeze of The Russian Punk.

Okay fine. Maybe he went overboard with the video. But a new problem had seemed to appear now as he admitted defeat.

Yuri now had a witness that would have to be taken care of somehow. He leaned forwards and gripped the collar of Victor's shirt in a tight fist. The glare of daggers shot forwards onto the smiling man.

"Tell anyone about it and you're gonna have to reconstruct that pretty nose of yours. That's a promise,not a threat."

"Trust me! You won't hear a peep!"

#inspiration #yuri on stage #yurio plisetsky #yuri on ice fanfiction #yuri on ice fandom #yurianime #yuri katsuki #yuri on ice #yuri plisetsky x reader #yuri plisetsky #best anime #anime icons #animelove #anime fanfic #viktor nikirofov #yuuri on ice #yuuri katsuki

[anika-ann]

What I’d Never Say or Do (Had I Been in My Right Mind) - Pt.1

We Both Break Free (…if We Make It on Top)

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2, part 3)  

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count (Ch1): 2050

Series summary: A story in which you officially come back from the dead, Tony with Natasha decide to take the blame for the whole mess and organize a party with unexpected party crashers and Bucky should consider thinking before speaking.

Fic title applicable to Tony, Natasha, Steve and his soulmate (aka the Reader), Bucky and his sort-of-buddy Matt Murdock and possibly few more.

Ch.1 summary.: In which Natasha and Tony go mad.

A/N: This series will be just a smaller thing, snippets set around The Age of Ultron (and later, Endgame). Later will be referred to as WINSoD because the title is a monster.

Warnings (ch1): mention of death and resurrection, mention of superntural creatures (see Errare Humanum Est), language, fluff

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Tony Stark was a ridiculously theatrical person.

While that was no news to anyone who knew as much as his name at least, but he still managed to outlive the legend, the reputation that preceded him.

He left you standing by the door, walked in to gain the undivided attention of the person inside the office and wanted you to reveal yourself in the exact right moment – a moment he trusted you to recognize.

Well. You assumed with a revelation like yours, it was rather hard to keep the drama away. But leave it to Tony Stark that he would blow it to proportion just to have fun.

“Tamara, darling!” the billionaire howled, the door opened only for a crack, so you could hear the reaction. You rolled your eyes, sighed and nervously looked around. The department was empty safe for the woman in the office, but it still made you feel uneasy; probably the effect of having to hide for the past weeks to avoid detection that could lead to a major scandal.

“Oh god, what happened?” Tamara asked, sounding as horrified as annoyed.

“Why do you assume— okay, that’s fair. How’s you hubby doing?”

“Alright,” the poor woman answered, clearly suspicious. “I more or less cleaned up the latest mess, so I’ve been coming home early…”

“Yeeeeah, about that. I have good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first?” Tony offered cheerily.

“Bad news. Always. Let me just sit down-- no, no, don’t let me sit down, I have a feeling I’ll wanna pace irritably.”

That caused the corners of your lips to turn up. You were starting to like this woman already.

“I’m gonna need you to deal with a major scandal worthy of your skills.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere and I assumed as much.” Now you officially loved her – and you saw why Tony did too. Sass and snark; Tony’s language. “So, care to elaborate?”

“Nah, I’ll give you the good news. You’re gonna get some help. I brought reinforcements. She doesn’t have much experience with PR-” Try none. “-but I’m pretty sure she’ll be the one all the questions will be aimed at.”

“Oh my god, Anthony, did you get a woman pregnant?!” the woman hissed, not bothering lowering her voice. She sounded… kinda pissed. Which was reasonable, given the fact Tony Stark was happily-not-single with one amazing Pepper Potts.

“What? No! I have Pepper!” he opposed her, having the nerve to be offended. You smirked, hoping Jarvis caught that one line too. “This is all on Capsicle-“

“Captain Rogers got a woman pregnant?! What the-“

You felt like this was the moment.

“No, Mrs…. Tamara,” you said it the end, realizing Tony never told you the poor woman’s last name, and entered the room. “But his soulmate sort of came back from the death.”

Tamara was a middle-aged woman, with blonde medium-length hair and huge majestic glasses, business suit in a bloody-red colour and lips perfectly shaped in an “O” as you demonstrated the problem at hand.

“Holy. Shit.”

Leave it to Tony Stark he would flee the moment an actual explanation was needed, letting the others deal with the aftermath of his dramatic tendencies. To be fair, this was more of your drama, so…

“Good. Looks like introductions are not needed. I’ll send you the necessary data. Have fun.”

He strode through the door, winking over his shoulder at you and sending an air kiss to Tamara and you nervously smiled at the woman, your awkward side showing when you raised your hand to a reluctant wave before you could realize a handshake would be more appropriate.

“Uhm. Hi…”

The blonde blinked several times, shook her head with an incredulous chuckle and stuck out her hand.

“Hi. I’m Tamara, Antony Stark’s cleaning service. What can I do for you?”

Oh yeah. You’d get along just fine.

…

The story was simple and yet enough to make at least two Avengers very much hated.

Tony and Natasha, perhaps from some residual guilt of which you weren’t sure where was coming from, were determined to be thrown to the wolves of public.

Apparently, it had been all their idea – to have Steve and you kidnapped in the first place by the bomb enthusiast psycho. They had caught something fishy, been aware of it for a long time and opted for drawing the something rotten within SHIELD and company out by leaking early info on where you and Steve would be going to dates for several nights in a row without your or Steve’s knowledge. Perfect bait with nearly perfect surveillance background and safety measures.

Predictably, it had gone to shit and while you had never been blown up to death, which was something Steve had had zero clue about, you had been recovering from your life-threatening injuries for weeks in a hidden facility of top-secret location with way too much security. Still without Captain America’s knowledge.

Admittedly, this tale was a PR nightmare in making, not to mention a complete bullshit. Yet, the Avengers (sans Steve so far) unanimously approved of it. Tony and Natasha would be the first to blame, while the rest would reluctantly admit they knew as well and they had all kept it from Steve.

“You can’t be serious,” was all you managed to come up with, Steve sitting on the couch next to you while the rest of the team, the part that was momentarily on Earth, gathered around you to break you the news. This was what they came up with? “People will hate you.”

“And their hearts would still bleed for their golden boy, who would forgive us in time, especially since we offered his girl a job and an apartment she can’t quite refuse.”

“Wait, what kind of a job?!” Steve snapped, waking up from the deep thoughts he had fallen into with this stupid talk.

“The non-dangerous kind, Steve, calm down, please,” Natasha cooled him off flatly, but you could see her sincere gaze when it met with Steve’s. We wouldn’t endanger her, not again, it whispered. Steve’s shoulders slumped.

“What kind of a job?” you echoed, still worried. You assumed the apartment Tony mentioned was a place in the Tower, not bothering to ask about that part.

“PR. Unless you want to deal with your old job of which I have no doubt your best buddy would give back. I’d just like to remind you how the public reacted to you dying.”

Right. You wouldn’t mind a little privacy and safe space. You liked your old job, but it didn’t seem like an option now. Except… this was crazy.

“But they will still hate you. It makes you guys terrible friends and teammates. Frankly, it makes you kind of… terrible people,” you said slowly, taking time to examine everyone’s face.

“She’s got a point,” Steve agreed, wheels in his head clearly turning in a lightning speed.

“Meh. You should know what Fury’s up to during his ‘the end justifies the means’ periods – which is non-stop. I wouldn’t worry about that,” Natasha shrugged it off, pursing her lips a bit.

“Wasn’t it you who said you weren’t sure how to get her back to the world without having to explain she was literally led by an angel from Heaven?” Clint reacted to Steve, who sighed.

“Yes, of course, but this-“

“-is perfectly believable,” Natasha interrupted him, raising an eyebrow before beckoning to Tony and herself. “Me and Tony came up with the operation – a spy and a billionaire with questionable conscience. We pulled the rest of the team into the charade. This can work.”

“I can’t say I’ll enjoy this,” Bruce entered the conversation for the first time, surprising everyone. “However, it will allow you to walk the streets freely – with uncomfortable questions, yes, but it is a reasonable deal for us.”

“Steve? Thoughts?” the spy turned to him again.

Your soulmate observed his team for a long time, just like you, watching each of them individually, trying to read them as he himself was conflicted and undecisive. Finally, his eyes settled on you, a hint of an encouraging smile on his lips.

“Doll? How do you feel about that?”

The softness of his voice, the actual freedom he gave you when it came to this decision warmed your heart and made you shudder at the same time. You had no doubt he had come to a decision; but the final step was on you and you only. He would be affected too, of course, but this was your life that could turn upside down for like… what, the third time since you had met him?

You worried your teeth over your lower lip. “I mean… I’d really appreciate not having to hide in here all the time, but… I don’t want people to hate you, guys. I feel like I caused enough problems-“

“No, doll,” Steve whispered, his hand covering yours and squeezing firmly as he locked his gaze with yours and didn’t let go. “I’m not asking about them. I’m asking about you. They are clearly willing to do this.”

“Are you?” you questioned despite being confident about his answer.

“Do I love you?”

That caught you off guard. “Huh? That’s not what I-…?”

What did that even mean? Did he love— come again? How was this about his feelings towards you all of sudden? Was it time to question them? God, you hoped NOT.

“That the newest version of asking whether the sky is blue, doll,” he explained with a lop-sided smile and you released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding.

Idiot. Sap. Sweet-talker.

“You’re such a sap.”

“You love it,” he hummed confidently. You smiled despite your better judgement. You loved him. And yeah, you loved this silliness too.

“I do.”

“So… are we doing this? Together?” His smiled grew a little wider, the twinkle you adored appearing in his eyes and you couldn’t but squeeze his hand back.

“Yeah. Together.”

“Jarvis, send Dum-E with some insulin shots,” Tony cleared his throat and you felt your cheek dust with a blush, roughly pulled out of the haze Steve managed to put you in once again. “We’re all having unhealthy sugar rush.”

The captain rolled his eyes. “Har, har, Stark. Are you guys really okay with this?”

Clint huffed. “It’s not like people will start planning our assassination more than they do already.”

“Tamara might,” Natasha opposed, amused.

“Ah, poor Tamara, I better bring a wine with me when asking…” Tony mused, scratching his goatee.

You turned to the red-head spy, not happy about being out of the loop.

“Who’s Tamara?”

Tamara, the head of the PR department for Tony (and sometimes for the Avengers too, because those two clients, so to speak, often came as a package deal), was currently starring at you speechless when you told her the tale of what actually happened and what lie they had decided to feed the public.

The silence lasted long enough for you to start worrying.

“Are you alri-“

“Angels are real?!” she burst out, nearly making you jump out of your skin with the sudden exclaim. You placed your palm over your chest to keep your racing heart inside your ribcage.

“…yes. But so are demons, shapeshifters, witches and so on, so…”

“Not a good thing to go public with. Got it. I understand the cover-up now. Though people being able to be resurrected would be enough on its own even without the… creatures. My my… we have a lot of work to do.”

“I’d imagine,” you agreed, not having a clue how to do this and where to start.

The woman looked at you over the rim of her glasses, her smile kind, in the Stark contrast to her loud cry only few second ago.

“…you don’t have any experience with PR at all, do you?”

“Nope,” you admitted, accenting the P and looking away, ashamed that Tony threw you into this without giving you anything helpful.

Now Tamara had to deal with the scandal and with you trying to help. That woman was worthy of some serious pay raise (though you had no doubt Tony paid her enough for her to own a villa or something, exactly as much as she deserved for dealing with his shit).

“I’m gonna kill Anthony, I swear…. Okay,  let’s get this shit on the road. Also, Jarvis? Tell Antony to get the freakin’ wine ASAP.”

Oh yeah. You would actually adore Tamara, you were sure of it.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Part 2

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Here we go! The final part of the series. Admittedly, I’m not sure about quality of this thing, but I’m trying.

Chapter titles are taken from the chorus of Les Friction’s What You Need

Thank you for reading ♥

(I’ll be tagging my Errare Humanum Est taggies, if you don’t want ot be taggged anymore, let me know)

#fanfiction #marvel #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers soulmate #soulmate au #mcu #steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america #captain america imagine #captain america soulmate #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #avengers #what I'd never say or do #winsod #anika ann

[pollenat]

EXO and Late night talks

➛ Requested! Ot9. Italics for the member, non-italics for the reader.

XIUMIN

“What are you doing?” *silence* “Eating?” “Yes, exactly!” “Oh, come on, Minseok. I’m hungry.” “You shouldn’t eat so late. It’s unhealthy!” “I wouldn’t be able to to sleep on empty stomach!” “So it’s better to poison yourself? With fast food?” *pause* “Next time just tell me and I’ll cook you something good.” *pause*  “-and stop pouting!”

*sigh* “Finally.” *pause* “A long day, huh?” “You have no idea...” *shuffling* “I’m so tired I thought I could hear the bed calling for me.” *silence* “What are you still doing on your phone?” *more shuffling* “Min-” “I’m finally in bed, after a whole day of working and you’re busy with something else. What about me? Don’t I deserve attention?” “Oh, Minseok. Of course!” *shuffling* “That’s better.”

*shuffling* “What- What are you doing?” “Watching.” “I can see. I can also see that you’re watching me, and that’s a little unnerving.” *laughing* “How come? I should be allowed to watch you. Whenever I want to.” “Nothing to be watched here.” “Oh, I can assure you, there’s something great to stare at.” “Ha ha.” *shuffling* “Creep.” *laughing* “Cute.”

“The work calls. Though I wish I could go to sleep with you. Catch some good dreams to tell me about, okay?”

“Stop being a jerk about that!” “A jerk? It was the other guy!” “The other guy that’s my family!” “I protected you!” “From what, Minseok? There was nothing to protect me from! He was just joking, as I told you.” “That didn’t sound like a joke! He said something rude and deserved to be called out for it. Maybe you can’t see it, because you grew up with him, but that was wrong. I did what I had to do-” *the sound of doors closing* “Of course.”

SUHO

“How much longer?” “I’m halfway through my routine. Be patient.” *an over-dramatic sigh* “I’ll die of old age before you’re finished!” *laughing* “Just enjoy the view instead of hurrying me.” “I could be enjoying it much better from a smaller distance! You know, in bed?” “Was that an allusion of sorts?” “What?” *pause* “Ew! No!”

“Can you answer my emails too?” *pause* “What? You’re good at it.” *snorting* “Answering emails?” *shuffling* “Ah, you’re funny.” *pause* “(y/n), this is what adulting looks like - you answer questions that people have for you. There’s nothing scary about it.” “That’s what you say, but I don’t agree. My insurance agent is scary.” “And so you want me to talk to him?” “Will you? Please?” “What? N-no! That’s your duty!” “Some boyfriend you are...”

*shuffling* “Junmyeon, let me sleep.” “I am letting you sleep.” “No, you’re distracting me.” “How?” “By clinging to me? I'm sleepy. We can cuddle tomorrow.” “sighing* “I can’t wait for tomorrow. That’s too long.” “That’s just a few hours.” “My point exactly. Too long.” “Stop whining and just go to sleep. We will cuddle when you wake up.” *sighing* “Goodnight.”

“You need to take better care of yourself. I won’t always be here to do it for you.”

“Come on. Say it.” “I didn’t-” “Cut it. I’m not oblivious. And you’re not that good at acting.” *silence* “Why won’t you just speak what’s on your mind.” “I didn’t mean to make you mad.” *sighing* “I already am, so there’s no need to cry over something that happened, huh?” “... Sorry.” *shuffling* “Yeah, of course. Just go. Goodnight to you too.”

LAY

“You need to come to bed, mister.” “Oh? I’m still not finished-” “You can finish this tomorrow. It won’t run off.” “But I will lose the - you know - flow of work.” “Otherwise you’ll just work yourself to death, huh? Come on. It’s already 2 am.” *silence* “Yixing...” *sighing* “Alright, alright. I’ll shut it off.” “Thank you!”

“(y/n)?” “Yes?” “You look sad.” “Oh, I’m just tired. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” *pause* “I know when you’re faking a smile. You’re doing this right now.” *silence* “Come on-” *shuffling* “-tell me what’s got you so bummed.” “It’s seriously nothing-” “I don’t care about how big it may be. Just talk to me. Maybe sharing the weight will help a little.” “But I don’t want to burden you. There’s enough on your plate.” “Blah, blah, blah. Babe, seriously. Talk to me. If you can’t even have a conversation with me, then of what use am I?”

“Then we can go see the Acropolis.” “There’s a museum close, right?” *crumpling paper* “Ah, yes. I see now. So we go to Acropolis, then to the museum and then for some nice dinner.” “Sounds dreamy.” “Good, so the day two is planned.” *silence*  “What?” “Wish we could go on holidays more often.” “Is once a year not enough?” “Hmm... No. It’s not enough.”

“No need to stress yourself over tomorrow. It will happen, so let’s just allow it, alright? Now. Go to sleep baby.”

“(y/n)? Um-” *pause* “They can’t come up to talk.” *pause* “No... Eh, I suppose I could just say it. No, we’re not on- not on speaking terms.” *pause* “Broken up? No! Just, you know” *shuffling* “we need some time away from one another to calm down.” *sighing* “We had this big argument and it got pretty serious... I don’t know why I’m boring you with this very personal stuff. Going back to what we were talking about-”

BAEKHYUN

“Who’s a baby? You are baby. Yes, you.” *shuffling* “The biggest baby of them all. My baby.” “Why are you paying more attention to him?” “Hmm, you mean my baby?” “I am baby. This is a dog.” *dramatic sigh* “Don’t listen to (y/n), baby. They’re just jealous.” “How can you be more affectionate towards a dog?” “(y/n). Look at him and tell me he’s not a baby. Look.” *pause* “I’m also baby.”

“Do we really have to go tomorrow?” “Yes,” *groaning* “why? Weren’t you the excited one?” “That was the past me. The present me has realized that I’d rather stay home with you.” “And what would we be doing at home the entire day?” “Cuddling? Watching TV... Cuddling?” “You’re already cuddling me.” “But that’s the sleep type of cuddling. I meant the type of cuddling that’s- cuddling. For real.” “Mmm- Sounds nice.” “So?” “So no. It’s too late to cancel.” *deep sigh*

“(y/n), come back here!” “I’m busy-” “Well, I’m lonely! That’s worse than busy. In conclusion? I win, so get back here!” “Baekhyun, please-” *shuffling* “-I swear, I’m really busy.” “As I said - and I’m lonely! Which belongs to your list of duties as well! Right at the very top, there’s written: keep Baekhyun company, remember? So stop stalling and let’s go back where we belong!”

“Baby, you’re lying funny. Oh, you’re asleep?” *silence* “Eh, no. I won’t do that.”

“(y/n)-” “No.” “Please-” *sighing* “What? What more, do you want from me?” “I just want you to look at me.” “And I’m not in the mood.” “To look at me?” “Yes, exactly that.” “Stop being so mad!” *shuffling* “Baekhyun, I’ll be mad for as long as I want. So stop trying- Doing whatever it is you’re doing.” *shuffling* *silence* “I just miss you.”

CHEN

“-you have that thing when you’re- sad.” “Hm? I’ve never noticed.” “Well, obviously. It’s something others notice.” “I guess.” *pause* “Is that annoying?” *laughing* “No. No, it’s cute. I like it- But not really, because you’re sad during those times- but like, in a weird way, it brings me- contentment? Because I know this thing about you?” “I guess I get it?” *laughing*

“Hey, is that- Is that my sweater?” “Hm?” *feet stomping* “Oh, is it?” “Yeah... I’ve given up looking for it a while ago...” “Well, you’ve found it now? So?” “Were you the one to take it?” “Me? Are you accusing me of stealing your sweater?” “More like taking without asking me, but yes?” “Ridiculous. How dare you?” “Wouldn’t be the first time.” “I possess no knowledge of such happenings.” *snickering* “Sure thing, babe.”

“I was thinking-” “Oh, okay. Shoot.” “It’s nothing bad!” *pause* “And don’t raise your eyebrows at me!” “I said nothing.” “But you made a face!” “Oh, just tell me.” “Well, okay. So I was thinking that we could leave somewhere for the weekend. You know, chill away from home?” “Snap, (y/n). That’s actually a good idea. I mean, would be, if I was free this weekend-” “Jongdae!” “Mans gotta work, sorry!” “And so my masterplan has fallen apart.”

“Is that drool? Eww, that’s disgusting.” *long silence* ”There. You really made me clean it up for you, huh?”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” “Jongdae, please-” “No. I told you to let this go, so please, do as I asked.” “I can’t just ignore what happened. We cannot ignore what happened. What about that time you made me promise to talk every single thing out?” “That was in the past. I don’t want to lose my temper.” “It’s not-” “Finished.”

CHANYEOL

“Your hands are calloused.” *silence* “Aren’t you working out too much?” “Ha, my trainer would say I’m working out too little.” “Sounds like we wouldn’t get along.” *silence* “He’s right though, my muscles are weaker these days. And I’ve already lost abs.” “You don’t need abs.” “Aren’t abs attractive?” “To some - probably yes. But I don’t really care. You don’t have to worry about such things when it comes to impressing me.” “Who said anything about impressing you?” “Oh- Well then...” *laughing*

“When you say that I’m annoying - do you actually mean that?” *shuffling* “(y/n)?” “Are you- mad that I called you annoying?” “Not really. I’m just... Just wondering.” *pause* “Do you go about your day and think that I’m annoying.” “Yes, I do.” “Oh.” “I go about my day and think - that Chanyeol guy is so annoying, he never leaves my head. I think I’m going crazy - that’s what I think.” “Oh- Really? You think about me in that way?” “Yes.” “Oh, so you’re so in love with me?” “Chanyeol, don’t ruin the moment.” *snickering*

“I’m this close to pushing you off the bed. Stop-” *shuffling* “-taking-” *shuffling* “-all-” *shuffling* “-the space.” *pause* “Are you seriously still asleep?” “No, I’m just ignoring you.” “Shit! You scared me.” “Was sort of planning to do so. Now, stop pushing me and let’s just cuddle.” *silence* *sighing* “Fine.”

*shuffling* “It’s all better when we’re together, isn’t it?”

“Chanyeol, that was one time!” “One time, when I told you not do so. And what? Did you listen? Of course, not!” “What’’s with that: of course not? What, because I’m so stupid?” “That- That’s not what I was talking about! You’re changing the subject to escape your fault!” “Oh, because that’s the easiest way, yeah? To make everything my fault?” “I’m not making it. This time, it is!” “Give me a break, Chanyeol!” *frustrated groaning*

D.O.

“Did I wake you up?” *silence* “I don’t know? I just woke up-” *shuffling* “Are you still reading?” “Yes.” *pause* “I should probably finish for today, huh?” “I’d say that-” *shuffling* “-1AM is a pretty late hour to be reading.” “I just- I really like this book.” *laughing* “I know. I mean - you didn’t miss an evening with it.” “One more page?” “You’ll read it tomorrow.” “But-” “Kyungsoo, it’s time to sleep.” “... alright.”

“Here, you’ll be warmer.” “Thank you...” *shuffling* *long silence* “Kyungsoo?” “Yes?” “Which one is your favorite?” “Constellation?” *pause* “Hmm... I don’t know. I think I like them all.” *silence* “There’s nothing bad about liking all, is there?” *silence* “There’s not. I was just expecting you to say something super cheesy.” *laughing* “Me?”

“Ugh, I’m never eating anything you make again!” “What? Why?” *pause* “Everyone tells me I’m a good cook.” “Yes, you are. That’s why I’m never eating anything from you again. You cook too good and I eat too much.” *snickering* “Does your stomach hurt?” “Yes...” “You’re such a baby sometimes.” *pause* “But fine, if you don’t want me to cook for you-” “I was joking?” “Were you? I didn’t sound like joking.” “Kyungsoo! You cannot let me starve!” “But I cannot cook for you as well?” *groaning* *laughing*

*laughing softly* “You really do sleep like a baby.”

“One thing. I asked you for one thing. Is that so much?” *silence* “I asked you a question.” “I couldn’t-” *shuffling* “Couldn’t what?” “I was busy with something else.” “Yeah, sure. It was so time-consuming, right?” “Kyungsoo-” “Sorry, won’t put you through so much stress again.” *to himself* “How insensitive of me.” “I’m really sorry.” “Yeah, well...” *feet stomping*

KAI

“Why aren’t you in bed?” “Hm? Oh, I was waiting for you.” *laughing* “I can see. Doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t have.” “Why not?” *naked feet stomping* “Missed you.” “I missed you too, but now I feel guilty you stayed so late for me.” “You shouldn’t feel guilty, because you were busy and staying was my own choice.” “But-” “Anyways, let’s just go to bed already. Yeah?” *snickering* “I can’t argue with that.”

“You can’t be serious.” “Why not?” *splashing* “Isn’t it super cold? How have you not frozen yet?” “The water is actually really nice. Come on!” “No way! Jongin, you’re crazy.” “That’s what we drove here for - a midnight swim.” “Yeah, but I thought you were kidding. I thought we would just chill on the sand, not go swimming in the ocean!” “Stop complaining and come live a little! We will worry about the aftermath after!” “After we freeze to death?” “We won’t freeze! Look - I’m fine!” *pause* “Trust me?” “Ugh, only because you’re so stubborn...”

“Is this okay?” “Mhm-” *shuffling* *crunching* “Did you just- eat my cucumber?” “I was hungry!” “So you ate a slice of cucumber that rested on my left eye and had a little bit of face mask on it?” “Oh, that’s where the bitter part came from.” “Jongin, you thief! That’s why we can’t have spa nights - you eat the spa part.” “It’s just a cucumber.” “No, it’s about the principles.” “You’re being overdramatic, I’ll go cut you another one.”

“Hm-” *shuffling* *lips smacking* “-love you.”

“Will you be back late tomorrow?” *silence* “Jongin?” *silence continues* “I know you’re awake.” *silence* *sighing* “Alright.” *shuffling* *silence* “Why, so he can come?” *shuffling* “He?” “The guy you were so busy talking to today.” “Is that what you’re so mad about?” “You were very- taken by him.” *laughing* “What’s so funny about that?” “Are you really jealous over some random guy?” “You were-” “Oh, stop it. Jongin, it’s ridiculous.” “-not to me.”

SEHUN

“I’m going to die and it’s all your fault-” “Huh? What? Why?” “-Hypothermia will take me. What a graceless death - to die of cold.” “What are you talking about Sehun?” “-and that’s all because I’ve decided to date a blanket hog. You could say I’ve decided the fate for myself-” “Oh, shut up. Just pull the duvet closer next time instead of making a scene.” “As if that was so easy...”

“Don’t stop.” “Hmm?” “Keep on doing that thing you were doing.” “You mean petting? You want me to continue petting you?” “Yes.” *pause* “Please?” *shuffling* “It’s not like I can tell you no.” *long silence* “Didn’t expect to be rejected.” *sighing* “You may still do.” “No. I’m your baby. You wouldn’t reject me and that’s a fact.” “You’re an adult.” “And your baby.” *pause* *shuffling* “Or am I wrong?” *snorting* “Okay, come back here, you baby.”

“So? What did you think?” “Hmm-” “What are you wondering about? That bad?” “I think the taste test was too short. I’ll need more samples.” *pause* “You just want to make out.” *sighing* “Isn’t that the whole point of buying a chapstick?” “No? There’s also the factor of my lips being too dry?” “And you don’t want them to be dry, because?” “Because that’s bad?” “But also because it causes me discomfort?” “Geez, Sehun. Not everything is about you.”

“You were mad at me today, weren’t you? I could tell from how you acted.” *pause* “Don’t be mad at me any longer, okay?”

“Sehun? Where are you going.” *silence* “Out.” “O-out?” *pause* “At this hour? Why would you?” *silence* “Is it because of our argument?” *more silence* “Sehun, don’t be chi- don’t do this. It’s too late to be walking around. Stay home, please.” “You wanted to call me childish, didn’t you?” “No-” *pause* “Yes, I did. Be mad at me, just- don’t leave.”

➛ pollenat’s list of headcanons

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

➛ pollenat’s list of scenarios

#sorry for being mia #exams season #exo scenarios #exo fanfiction #exo imagines #exo headcanons #exo fluff #exo angst #exo x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfiction #kpop imagines #kpop headcanons #kpop fluff #kpop angst #boy groups

[soulmate-game]

Part 2 Of that brucinette one-shot I guess

Caution, this gets a little steamy in the beginning. Nothing explicit, but I’m not subtle.

Part 1

Marinette placed down her now-empty wine glass. Her deep red sleeves, fanned out around her wrist to create a dramatic drip and natural yet artistic wrinkles in the delicate fabric, pooled against the silver tablecloth as she leaned on that now-empty arm. Her blue eyes, partially obscured by thick lashes, looked up at her company as her wine-colored lips tilted upwards at the corner. Not a spec of lipstick was out of place, not a wrinkle could be seen that wasn’t deliberate. Despite the homey, slightly awkward person she had been when in front of his family, this version of Marinette was very much comfortable to be as teasing as she wanted. After all, the two of them were alone on a rooftop and she had waited for this date for twenty-three years.

Sure, she hadn’t stopped dating during that waiting period. She tried to get over him, and she didn’t moan and groan every day at not having him there. She lived normally, for the most part. Had normal relationships, even managed to hang onto one particular boyfriend for two years before she admitted to both of them that it just wasn’t working. It wasn’t what either of them needed.

But despite the normality, despite the attraction and the feelings she built and lost for other men, she never forgot Bruce Wayne. Not truly. Of course, it was hard to completely forget about the man when he still commissioned her twice a year for a new suit but refused to entertain any non-business related conversation. The guy was frustrating, aggravating, but damn did that just endear her to him more. Even when she was in relationships with other people, her image of a perfect family always seemed to star him at her side.

In the end, she knew exactly why she never mourned his loss for long or despaired over their lost relationship. It was never lost. She knew that she would stay in Paris until HawkMoth, and later Monarch, fell. She knew Bruce would avoid Paris just as long. But she also knew that she would see the day that Paris was no longer oppressed by supervillains, and she knew that once that day came Bruce wouldn’t have the chance to get away from her. If he broke it off even after that, then she would leave well enough alone and mourn for real.

But, her smirk widened as she saw Bruce place down his own glass from his spot across from her, a part of her knew he wouldn’t run. He had stayed away because he was bad at emotions, something Marinette had become an expert in herself. He was scared and worried, he didn’t want to lose someone else close to him and knew that superheroism rarely allowed a death of natural causes. He wanted to shield her from everything, keep anything bad from happening, but she told him that she couldn’t allow outside heroes to try to help. He felt like she was keeping him from doing the one thing he wanted to do, be there and make sure she stayed alive.

As usual, his issues with emotion led him away from realizing that she only forbade Batman from helping, not Bruce Wayne. She never would have stopped him from coming to help outside of his costume. He had more to offer than just brawn, after all.

Her eyes trailed along his arms. More to offer, indeed.

What? She was a grown, forty-three year old woman. She was entitled to a bit of fantasy about the guy of her dreams.

“So,” said dream guy spoke up, watching her with an equally, sweetly dark smirk. “I believe I owe you a patrol now?”

Marinette barked out a short peal of laughter, taking the hand he offered to her and allowing him to help her up.

“Are you sure your kids don’t realize that patrol is basically foreplay for seasoned urban-city heroes like us?” She teased him back, her blue eyes sparkling with mirth. Bruce chuckled, resting a warm hand on her lower back, right above the low dip of fabric in her dress and on her bare skin.

“No, because it’s only like that for us and not all seasoned urban heroes,” he corrected, his voice a low rumble in his throat that did things to her, especially with the way he gazed down their gaping height difference into her now dilated pupils. Marinette’s smirk widened into a heated grin.

“I suppose you’re right. But I’d like to get started, and standing on the top of your business’s tower in formal clothing and flirting isn’t exactly going to help us get to that patrol any faster, you know.”

Bruce smiled down at her, picking the smaller woman up to place a gentle kiss on her wine-painted lips. When he pulled away, his own blue eyes were sparkling in mischief to match her own. “Lucky for us, I have an extra suit in my office downstairs.”

“Pfft, amateur,” Marinette teased, tapping her earlobe. “I carry my suit with me everywhere.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Polite knocking on the door caused Marinette to groan, flipping over to bury her face in the scarred, solid, and deliciously bare chest that had been holding her while they slept. A soft chuckle, still deep with leftover grogginess, rumbled through the warm skin and made Marinette burrow in even closer. Her protection from the blasphemy that tried to awaken her rose slightly, making her groan again in protest of her comfort being disrupted. A warm arm wrapping over the top of her body to pull her closer silenced the groan and replaced it with a pleased hum.

“We’re awake, Alfred.”

“Good. I seem to remember Miss Dupain-Cheng having trouble getting up in the morning, so there is still half an hour until breakfast is ready. Masters Tim, Damian, and Miss Cain are already downstairs.”

Bruce laid back down all the way, allowing one hand to smooth down Marinette’s hair. It was still tangled and messy from the previous night. “Thank you, Alfred. It might take more than half an hour to get her up, but we’ll be down for breakfast.”

“Very good, sir.”

Bruce waited until he was sure Alfred was gone, allowing himself the luxury of just enjoying the feel of Marinette’s skin against his own as they laid peacefully in bed. Finally, though, he knew he had to get the both of them started for the day or they would miss breakfast.

“Mari, it’s time to wake up,” he made sure to speak at his normal volume, knowing from experience that trying to wake her up gently would not work. Out of all the heroes he had ever met, she was the deepest sleeper. He never understood how she managed to get away with it.

“Mmmm. I am awake,” she grumbled, but the way she just pressed herself closer to him to absorb more of his warmth just gave her away. Bruce rolled his eyes fondly, running his hand through her hair and picking apart tangled as gently as he could with one hand.

“That’s a lie. Come on, we need to get up and take a shower.”

“Is that an offer?” Was the mumbled response against his chest. He raised his eyebrow despite her not being able to see it.

“If we miss breakfast, Alfred will kill us both. Besides, if we aren’t down in time then the kids will know. They are old and smart enough to put that together, and I rather not scar them for life or endure their relentless teasing.”

“Uuuughhhhhh,” Marinette finally flopped over to lie on her back, one arm slung over her face as she groaned in despair. “I guessssss you have a poinnnnt,” she whined reluctantly.

“But, considering we only have twenty minutes left, we don’t exactly have time for individual showers, do we?”

Marinette’s pout turned into a grin.

Once they both rushed through a shower, absolutely innocent despite Marinette’s sleep-induced teasing earlier, they got dressed. Marinette just raised her eyebrows when she saw that Bruce had a small section of his massive closet stocked with clothes that were mysteriously in her size, but accepted them without a word. She wasn’t surprised.

Walking down the stairs together, Bruce realized he miscalculated when they were greeted by a wolf-whistle. Tim was the culprit, grinning unrepentantly. Damian looked sour as ever, pointedly ignoring the couple, while Cass just smiled knowingly.

Of course. He would have to endure their teasing anyway, because coming down the stairs with Marinette pretty much announced to all of them about how their night went. Great.

Marinette, however, just blushed. She had matured a lot over time, and owning her own fashion label for over fifteen years had helped her get used to being in the spotlight; she still wasn’t the best at dealing with attention though. She waved at the kids shyly before dragging Bruce over to where she knew he sat at the head of the table so that everyone could be distracted by Alfred’s cooking.

Most of the day went by fairly casually. Bruce had brought a lot of his work home with him, so he and Marinette spent a lot of time in one of his sitting rooms just doing paperwork side-by-side on a couch. Owning a company didn’t always allow for vacation time after all, and even though she was overseas Marinette still had forms to fill out and reports to read.

Throughout the day the amount of people in the mansion fluctuated. Damian and Cassandra left for their respective schools, and Barbara went to work. Dick popped by during his lunch break to waggle his eyebrows at the finally official couple and steal some of their cereal. Jason even entered through the window of the sitting room that they were working in, somehow with a knife already in his bicep, about an hour before dinner.

Jason Todd-Wayne learned to fear Marinette Dupain-Cheng that day, as Bruce allowed her to be the one that stitched him up and berated him for not being careful. He would never admit just how much he adored the unfamiliar feeling of being mothered.

And that led to patrol. Marinette knew she couldn’t get Batman to relax for more than a day or two at a time unless he was injured and it was logical for him to rest (and even then she knew it would be an uphill battle).

Having immediately connected all of Bruce’s myriad of children to the appropriate members of the BatFam, and having known Bruce’s identity longer than anyone else in that mansion besides Alfred, she was allowed into the Batcave to watch everyone train and get ready for the night. She was serious about relaxing though, and was sitting back to monitor things at the cave with Oracle this time.

Marinette blinked as Bruce sparred against Damian, the young teenager aggressive in his combat style. She didn’t know his full backstory, but she could piece together the obvious bits. Bruce hadn’t been aware he was conceived, she would have heard about it from Alfred if Bruce knew he had fathered a child, and something about his birth mother must have been touchy enough for Alfred to not have told her about the child when he finally did make his way to Bruce’s care. But seeing the way Damian fought was familiar, and made Marinette stand up and walk over to the spar. She pretended to not care about the heavy gazes that followed her.

She waited until Bruce pinned his son to speak.

“So your biological son has a history with the League of Assassins,” she mused, raising an eyebrow at her boyfriend even as the atmosphere grew thick with tension. “Honestly, What is with you and dangerous women? At least compensate a bit more for his past training,” she shook her head as if she was scolding a child before holding her hand out to Damian. “Come on. Bruce is trying to teach you defensive maneuvers, yes?”

Damian looked cautiously between his father and his father’s new lover. As soon as his father let him go and allowed him to stand up, the boy grabbed Marinette’s hand and tried to toss her over his shoulder. Little did he know, she fully expected that. She pushed herself off the ground, going along with the momentum he had given her. But when he tried to let go of her hand, she held on tight and tugged him along with her. Spinning in midair, she pinned Damian’s arms against his side in mid flight, and when they landed the force allowed even her light weight to completely knock the wind from him. The thirteen-year-old was already just as tall as Marinette and had more solid muscle mass, yet he ended up thoroughly immobilized in less than ten seconds without Marinette ever attacking.

“First off, if you don’t know what your opponent plans to do then it is a good idea to let them attack first. Go with their momentum instead of against it, because nobody is weaker than when they think they have you right where they want you.”

She held the position for another second before stepping off of Damian, and dusting her hands off. Dick whistled appreciatively.

“Wow. Amazing fighting, and good tips to boot. Have you taught other heroes before?”

At that Marinette couldn’t help but cackle, a hand flying to cover her mouth and try to muffle the sound. Once she calmed down, though laughs still forced their way from her throat every few seconds, she waved her hand over to Bruce. He was trying valiantly to loom intimidatingly since he knew where this was going. It did nothing to deter his girlfriend.

“Why do you think I met Bruce when he was eighteen?” Bruce had told her how much of their past he had relayed to his kids. “Back then he was in the thick of his training to become Batman, he didn’t think about much of anything aside from the next person to learn from. He found his way to Paris because a friend of mine happened to meet him in Tibet. Her own family had ties with the League back then and she was making sure they were severed for good. She saw how he was being trained, and after a few days of examining his character, she hinted to him that he could find a good teacher in Paris for what he wanted to achieve.”

“No way,” Jason breathed, eyes growing wide as he and the other kids already started to put together what she was getting at. She smiled widely, nodding.

“I had years under my belt as a hero by then. I’m not versed in nearly as many combat styles as Bruce, but I had a lot of practical experience. I taught him tactics and field improv. The whole reason he decided he needed to carry around Batarangs with him all the time is the fact that I once told him to try to attack me when all I had on me was a normal yo-yo and a length of rope. I handed him his ass for four hours straight. After that, he decided that having something sharp on hand at all times was necessary.”

While she spoke, Marinette went over to her purse and pulled out a normal yo-yo. It was a metal one, but not made out of anything expensive or unbreakable. Just a normal metal yo-yo.

And when she walked over to pull a coil of rope down from their weapons wall, everyone seemed to realize where this was going. She turned back to Damian, ignoring the feral smirk that was now on Batman’s face. She smiled with false innocence.

“Now, for some defensive training you benefit from a bit more, Damian. I’m going to attack you with nothing but this yo-yo and this coil of rope. Defend.”

—*—*—*—*—*

#mlb x dc #ml x dc #brucinette #aged up marinette

[bluebellhairpin]

A Familiarity

Levi Ackerman X Reader

A/N: Some quick Levi fluff for y’all. - Nemo

Warning(s): General AoT themes (Death) 

Summary: Like many people, you’d never seen the ocean before. Now, with it in front of you, you’re able to finally still your mind, and recall events from the past ten years.

Masterlist  

Your life wasn’t always easy, in fact there were more than a couple handfuls of times when your life came so close to damn difficult that it almost ended. 

Having come from living in the Underground, it would make others think that the worst of it was behind you. 

But now, standing with your boots inch-deep in sand, no one would ever have guessed the worst was the ten years after you left that dreadful place. Never would you have thought you’d have to see so much death above ground. 

You were getting too old for this, but if all the superior members of the Corps kept dying, who would keep an eye on the younger recruits? 

Lolling your head over to look back at Levi - someone whose roots were similar to yours - you let out a quiet sigh and closed your eyes. You wondered if this was what being content felt like. If this was what being safe felt like. It felt oddly foreign, like you should know, or remember how it felt to be like this - but you didn’t. 

Being here, at the Ocean, it made you calm. It gave you time to think and clear your head. Your thoughts and mind finally had a bit of time to catch up to you. 

You thought of your life before now, and how without it you probably wouldn’t be here at all. It helped condition you to loss, death, and the overall mess that was called living. It prepared you for fighting, and it made you do desperate things, and pull the dirtiest of moves. It got you noticed by those of the Military Police, and even those above ground.

You thought of Erwin, how without him you would’ve been long dead about ten years ago. He saved you, even if that was the only silver-lining in the deal you had to strike to save your life. 

“It’s either you’ve given to the MP’s of the Underground, or you’re executed.” He’d told you. “Unless you join the Corps.” He was very persuasive. 

You soon found out that joining the Survey Corps was no better than death. It was a living hell. With as little as two-months of training you were sent on your first expedition with Erwin and his section. Those were people you’d almost call friends. Not only was it one of the worst expeditions even Erwin had been on, but you had to ditch the bodies of those who’d died - your friends - in order to outrun the titans. 

Little did you know that wouldn’t be the last time you’d have to do that. 

You had no idea how you survived, but you swore two things from that day on. The first was that you would never let anyone be killed by a titan while you were nearby, and that the moment you could leave the Corps you would. So you waited. Waiting until you died, or Erwin did, just like his deal said. 

Years passed, and both you and Erwin stayed alive, him even picking up more Underground residents along the way - Levi being one of them. 

You thought of when you first saw Eren, how the poor sod was being beaten until he was bruised and bloodied in the middle of a courtroom by none other than Levi. After that came what you affectionately called ‘Babysitting Duty’. Who’d of thought that was all a little more than a year ago? It all felt too dramatic for you. 

The sand beside you shuffled, and you dared to open your eyes to look at who was at your side. If it was Hange you’d floor it, there was no way she was sticking another weird black sea-blob in your face again. But it was Levi.

“You’ve got that face,” he said, “You going to blab, or do I have to ask you to?” You let out a puff of air - something that was close to a laugh - before answering. 

“I don’t have to be here.”

“I know.” he nodded, looking down to shake a couple specks of sand off his boot, “It hasn’t been that long, but I was starting to wonder why you are still sticking around.” 

You hummed, wondering if Levi really seemed like someone who would listen, or if he was just making conversation with you to avoid interaction with the others. You vouched for the former, it was much nicer.

“I have nowhere else to go.” you said, “At least, that’s the non-cheesy and least emotional answer.” You laughed, finally toeing off your boots to start rolling up your pant legs.

“So what’s the ‘emotional’ answer.”

“You really want to know?” You quirked up an eyebrow, looking up at him from your crouched position in time to see him shake his head with an almost happy-sounding ‘tch’.

“Humor me.” he said after a few beats, and you just had to let out a laugh at that.

“Fine, fine,” you took a few steps into the water, shivering a little at the cold, “I guess - I mean there’s literally nothing for me outside the Scouts. I’m not going back to the Underground, even if I did, anyone I knew would be long dead by now. I know no one above ground, I have no family there. My family - if I dared to get sentimental - would be all you guys. Leaving the Scouts means I’d have to leave you.” Your words finished quietly, and you almost didn’t look over to meet Levi’s eyes - chances were high he would just look back at you very skeptical-like - but when you did you didn’t see any of that.

He looked rather content. Just like how you felt. His eyes, usually a cold, harsh grey, were softer now. Less like thunderous storm clouds, and more like the fur on the back of a kitten curled up in your lap. 

“I’m glad.” he said simply, “You’re like family to a lot of us too.”

Of course he wouldn’t say it directly, but that? That was close enough for you. That was plenty for you. It was for him too.

That’s why, when you smiled brightly over at him, that he cracked a smile back at you.

#I might spiral into a Levi Ackerman phase again #send help #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman one shot #aot x reader #aot imagines #aot one shot