#i'm not good at colours but this was nice to do. relaxing. tested out some stuff. 3 cheers for experimentation and striving for improvement

[whiskey-bumblebee]

Uptown Girl (part two)

Pairing: dbf!Aaron Hotchner/Reader

Accessibility/Diversity notes: 99% gender neutral, but one use of 'she' for reader. Reader can swim.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Implied (public) sex, smut, dbf!hotch (reader is an adult).

A/N: The daybed I'm imagining is like this

Tagging: @ssamorganhotchner @hausofwhores <3

"Slow down," You breathe.

"Sorry, sorry," Hotch replies.

When he pulls away from you, his lips are puffy, his hair is mussed, and the collar of his polo is completely off-centre. You smile and run your fingers through his hair affectionately, smoothing it flat again.

"Pretty boy," You murmur, and he blushes under your attention.

"Do you want to swim?"

You eye the pool behind Aaron's head. It looks inviting, the blue almost as nice as the Caribbean. Almost. The pool floatie also looks inviting, and that's when you realize that you're looking for an excuse.

Aaron shuffles slightly up the daybed, until his hips are between your legs, rather than his face. You run your fingertips over his bare shoulders, taking in each freckle atop his skin. Thanks to the warm weather, and your afternoon in the sun, his skin was warm, and seemed to be taking on a bit of colour.

"If I'm doing a bad job, you can tell me," He kisses your neck affectionately, trailing kisses over your chest.

You laugh. "No, not at all. I just wanted to talk."

The gauzy white curtains flap in the breeze, sending cool air over your bodies.

He rolls off your body and relaxes on the sheets beside you. You bite your lip as your eyes rake over his body. He's shirtless, a sheen of sweat over his skin, and his jeans are hanging low on his hips. It's with a pang of guilt that you notice his prominent erection. He notices you noticing him, and reaches for one of the many throw pillows on the bed.

You laugh as he moves the pillow in front of his hips, obscuring your view.

"Damn, you're tempting," You sigh. "And you're good. I just don't know if I can come in public."

You gesture around your pool area, which is, of course, empty. Having sex in the open air is erotic, yes, but it's also cast a shadow of self-consciousness over you. Your neighbours are miles away, but you never know who might be testing a new drone, or whether one particularly loud moan might carry through the summer air to some unwitting person's ears.

"What did you want to talk about?"

You bite your lip again, nudging at the throw cushion which he's still holding in place. Hotch laughs, but holds firm.

"C'mon, talk to me. I promise I'll make love to you later." There's a boyish grin on his face, but that doesn't stop your stomach from dropping at his words.

Practiced as ever, you plaster on the wild child smile. You slip away from Aaron and dive into the pool. Aaron chases you, which you know without even having to look. Sure enough, once you surface, you see the ripples from his splash radiating to the edges of the pool, and you watch as his body glides towards you, under the water.

He runs his hands up your calves, then your thighs, settling on your hips as he swims to the surface. He doesn't even have to ask; as soon as his head pops out of the water, you brush his hair back so he can see.

He smiles at the gesture as he opens his eyes, keeping his hands firmly on your hips.

"You're avoiding me."

"You've been giving me head for the last ten minutes," You hold your grin in place, but it's starting to falter. "We have different definitions of avoidance."

He says your name slowly, and your grin finally fades. Your mouth falls into a frown, and his expression quickly matches yours.

"Hey," He says, rubbing his thumbs in circles.

"I don't think I can look at you and say the things I need to say," You breathe, dropping your hands over his.

He nods, and swims over to the stairs in the shallow end. He takes a seat roughly in the middle, so that his chest is above the water, but the rest of his body is submerged. Propping his elbow on the edge, he rests the side of his head against his hand.

You slip onto a floatie, lying on your back and pulling your sunglasses over your face so you can look at the sky comfortably. The sun immediately undoes the cooling effect of the water.

"I'm listening," He says, and you're not sure whether you're hearing his dad voice or his profiler voice. It seems too gentle to be interrogative, but there's an edge of seriousness.

"So, you came over," You start, unsure exactly how to phrase your thoughts.

"I did," He replies.

"And I'm really glad, and I'd like you to stay, as long as you can. And I really," You can't help but laugh. "I really would like you to make love to me, if this doesn't completely kill the vibe."

You take a deep breath, dropping one of your hands into the water so you can run your fingers through it.

"But it's only because I made up an excuse."

"It isn't," He interjects. "I'm here because I was desperate to see you. You know that. I missed you while you were in New York."

You sigh.

"I want you... I want you to be here because you want to be here. Not because I called and you came."

He says your name again, dragging out the last syllable.

"Aaron," You reply before he can interrupt again, and you take another deep breath, steadying yourself. "I want you to be here because… Because you love me."

The silence is so long, so excruciating, that you slip back into the water so you can stare at him and read his expression. You've drifted to the deep end of the pool without realizing, and you swim over to the nearest edge so you don't have to tread water. It's completely unintentional, but all of a sudden, the pool's entire length is between you and Aaron.

You stare at him. He's staring off to his right, his fingers threaded through his hair. It's still silent, and even the sound of the water lapping at the pool's walls has ceased. You resolve not to say anything until he does. You've played your cards. If he doesn't like them, he can fold.

He looks over at you, and the expression on his face is something you don't know how to read. It's not one you've ever seen before, and for a second you're angry at yourself, knowing that your poker face is thin. Anyone could read you: desperate for his affection, on the verge of tears, like a dog waiting at the front door after a long day. And because it's Aaron, you might as well have hired a skywriter to spell out the words above you both: I love you. I love you, I love you. Please love me back. I don't know what I'll do if you don't love me back.

For a few more painful, long, minutes, he just stares at you. You hold his gaze and map his features, trying to make sense of them. His lips are pressed together, although not so tightly that it's his tell for repressing a spiteful comment. His jaw is fixed, but all of the times you've seen him in profiler mode, it has been. The typically hard line of his brow is soft. His eyes are marginally wider than usual. His head is normally inclined slightly forward, a result of sitting hunched over a desk for so long, but also, you know, a way of making his features appear sharper, harsher. When he tips his head forward and makes eye contact from under his brows, anyone will confess anything to him. He's never used that look with you, and this is no exception. You note that his head is in a neutral position, even tipped slightly back.

You don't need to be a profiler to know that it's a vulnerable expression for him. He's outside of his shielded norm, and the head tilt, with its many meanings, also has the practical effect of baring his throat to you. Okay, you think. There's a vulnerability here, but I knew that already.

"Come here," He says, finally.

The silence has been so long that you almost think you're imagining his words, which isn't helped by the fact that he said them quietly. But he's looking at you expectantly, so you paddle slowly over. You leave a slight distance between you, but it's shallow enough that you can comfortably stand.

"Is that what this is about? You need me to tell you that I love you?"

You nod, uncomfortable at the way he's phrased it, but you know that it's true nonetheless.

"What's your expression?" You ask. Even if this goes terribly, you want to memorize it. If this is the last way you'll ever see his face, you want to file it away forever.

Your question prompts a change; he looks surprised. At least you can recognize that one.

"My expression?"

You nod gingerly.

He stands up and walks towards you, closing the distance.

"This is what it looks like when a man is watching the love of his life beg for something she's always had."

It takes a minute for his words to sink in, but as soon as you've processed them, you smile so widely that an ache sets in. Hot tears spill over your cheeks, liquid relief overflowing.

He wraps his arms around you, and you rest your face against his shoulder, your nose turned into his neck.

You can't help it, and you laugh even as you're crying.

Aaron strokes your back, holding you close as your emotions work their way out of your system.

As you calm down, he starts to sway the two of you side-to-side. You rest your right hand against his chest, and he keeps his arms wrapped around you.

There's nothing you can say that will rival what he's just said, so you're happy to stand in silence.

He takes your chin in his hand and guides your face towards his. It's like you're kissing him for the first time, and for a moment, you just stay an inch apart, watching him look at your lips. You share breath like it's the most natural thing in the world. You close your eyes and feel his lips against yours: slow, soft, reserved. It's a kiss with no ulterior motive than to be shared, passed back and forth between you like a cigarette.

When you finish, Aaron's hand is cupping the side of your neck, his thumb resting on your cheek.

"I'm getting cold," You murmur.

He nods, and presses his lips to yours for one last, short kiss.

He leaves you standing in the pool, watching as he walks over to the daybed, retrieving your towels, long-abandoned. He nods for you to get out of the pool, and you practically float up the steps.

It's with all the tenderness in the world that he wraps a towel around your shoulders, and your hand brushes his as you take hold of the corners, keeping it in place.

He takes your free hand in his, kissing your knuckles gently, then leads you to the house.

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #fanfic #criminal minds #hotch #aaron hotchner #hotch smut #my writing #self insert

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime — Ten // Wanda Maximoff

chapter nine | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter eleven

author’s note: okay so this was supposed to be published yesterday but (if anyone cares lol), basically, i finished my last year of uni two days ago and so yesterday was the first official day i had that i didn’t have to do work, so i spent the whole day playing video games 😂 but it’s here now, so i hope you liked it!

Approaching Y/B/N's study, my annoyance returned when I remembered how he acted only an hour before. I didn't bother knocking as I let myself in, seeing him loosening his bow tie and looking out the window.

"What the hell was that?" I snapped instantly.

He sighed, yanking his bow tie off and throwing it to his desk. "What was what?"

I crossed my arms to contain my frustration. "You know what, Y/B/N." He continued to play dumb, so I watched him with a frown. "Why are you so against me getting published? I thought– I thought you'd be proud of me. It's all I've ever wanted."

With a scowl, he looked the other way. "I'm the writer, Y/N, not you."

His words created an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach. Jealousy was a disgusting look on him, one I never wanted to see.

"No," I said, uncrossing my arms and staring daggers at him. "You're not the writer. I am. You only got noticed because of me!"

"Shut up!" he shouted, finally meeting my eyes. "You don't get to do this! It's not about you!"

"Yes, it is!" I shouted right back. "For once, it is about me, Y/B/N! Because this is my chance to do something I love."

He rolled his eyes, getting riled up all over again. "And that's another thing. Why the hell are you putting silly ideas into my fiancé's head about making money? Are you trying to make me a fool in front of my in-laws?"

I squeezed my fists together, narrowing my eyes. "They aren't your in-laws."

"Oh, you know what I mean!"

He didn't deserve Wanda. He couldn't. She was too good for him.

"Sorry that your masculinity is so fragile that you can't let your fiancé do something she's passionate about," I said through gritted teeth.

He glowered down at me. "You need to butt out."

I smiled bitterly. "Maybe if you didn't start on Pietro for no reason, I would."

He scoffed. "Please. That man is only trying to get into your pants."

I don't think I'd ever wanted to strangle my brother as much as I did right now. Did he really not believe in me? He couldn't accept that maybe I'd earned this on my own accord? Thankfully, unlike him, I could contain my emotions and managed to swallow down my anger.

"You know that's not the case," I said with a dangerously calm voice. "You should talk about your soon-to-be brother-in-law with some respect."

Y/B/N sighed, moving to sit at his desk. I followed him with my eyes, unable to recognise who he was. I hadn't dubbed him for the insecure type, but I was being proven wrong many times tonight.

"I don't want to do this right now," he said quietly, sinking his head into his hands.

I uncurled my fists, fed up. "It's already been done."

He looked up, but I didn't wait to see his face. Maybe he wasn't the brother I thought he was.

—

"Honest opinion," Wanda said, before revealing herself from behind the curtain. "Nice or ugly?"

"Nice."

She smiled brightly, twirling around in the dress she was trying on, before going back behind the curtain to change into another one. She'd invited me over to hers to hang out, which meant watching her try on a bunch of new dresses and getting excited over each one. I wasn't complaining.

"So, that first book," she picked up from our previous conversation as she changed. She was referring to Y/B/N's first published book. "That was really you?"

"Yep." I pulled my legs up onto the lounge sofa and leaned on my hand, elbow propped on the back of the seat. "I mean, it got edited of course, but the initial manuscript was mine."

"Wow," she commented. "That must have really sucked to hear everybody praise it when it was actually yours."

"It did indeed."

She came out from the curtain wearing a dress that wasn't particularly nice looking. It had a baggy torso and slim legs, making Wanda look very unflattering. And that was saying something – she could pull off anything.

"Nice or ugly?" she asked, hands on her hips.

I squinted, tilting my head and trying to think if I should lie or not. Her blue eyes peered down at me intimidatingly and I knew I couldn't find it in myself to lie to her.

After a moment, I released a breath. "I'm sorry, love, but it's kind of ugly."

She chuckled, giving me a knowing smile. "Good. This was a test. Means you're paying attention."

"Wow. You think I'm just sat here for fun?"

She didn't respond, but an amused smile was on her lips as she headed behind the curtain to change yet again. It was quiet as she was changing, before she spoke up again.

"You know when we first met? And you showed me around your room?"

"How can I forget? You thought I was jealous of my brother," I quipped with a smile.

I could imagine the eye roll she was giving me. "That was before I knew you wrote half his stuff."

Stifling a laugh, I nodded even though she couldn't see me. "Okay, go on."

She sighed. "I told you how I fell in love with that first book. How I fell in love with the words. And the person who wrote those words.”

"I remember."

She reappeared from behind the curtain, this time wearing a stunning floral blue sundress. It fell off her shoulders, revealing cream-coloured skin and a well-defined collarbone. I smiled softly, overwhelmed with admiration for the beautiful woman before me.

"I'm glad it was you," she said, and I suddenly remembered we were in the middle of a conversation.

Her eyes sparkled brightly as she smiled my way, and then her words sank in and my heart fluttered with adoration.

"Me, too," I breathed out.

She held my gaze for a second longer before looking down at her dress, pressing her hands over it. "So. What do you think? Nice or ugly?"

I raised my eyebrows with astonishment. "Wanda, you look absolutely beautiful."

Her shoulders relaxed as her eyes flickered to mine. "So, I should keep it?"

I spluttered, "Duh!"

She laughed, before approaching me and sitting beside me. Leaning her head on my shoulder, she pulled her legs onto the sofa and sighed contently. I wrapped an arm around her, resting my cheek on her head.

"I'm glad you'll finally get the recognition you deserve, milaya (darling)," she said, lifting her hand to intertwine it with mine over her shoulder.

With an entertained smile, I held her hand firmly. "Maybe, love. I haven't said yes."

"Oh, you'll say yes."

I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, revelling in the warmth her body created as it pressed to mine. We had no concerns that somebody would catch us since nobody was home and the servants knew not to bother us.

"So, what was the book actually about?" she asked, playing with my fingers.

"Huh?"

"The book," she repeated. "I've heard Y/B/N's take on it, but what about yours?"

At the mention of my brother, I rolled my eyes. We still hadn't spoken since our argument and I wasn't exactly in the best place with him right now.

"It doesn't matter," I mumbled into her hair.

She used her elbow to nudge me gently in the stomach before grabbing my other hand and wrapping it around her waist.

"I like hearing you speak," she said softly. "And I love the way your mind works."

My cheeks flushed at the compliment, but I appreciated her words. She always had such an effect on me and I'd come to only care about one opinion nowadays – hers.

"Okay, I guess..." I sighed, subconsciously pressing my fingertips to hers. "The book is about a man who loses his wife to his own ignorance, right?" She hummed in agreement, so I continued. "Y/B/N always talks about how it's about a man failing to appreciate his wife, but that's not how I intended for it to be perceived."

Interest piqued, she sat up straight and turned around to face me, leaning her head on my chest and looking up with curious eyes. I smiled down at her, pressing a kiss to her nose, making her scrunch it up adorably.

"It's supposed to be about the wife discovering that she's her own woman and that she doesn't need her husband to be okay," I continued, holding her gaze. "It was her own self-discovery that pushed them apart, as well her husband's stupidity."

Wanda's lips curved into a gentle smile. "I like that interpretation a lot better than his."

Licking my lips, I breathed out through a smile. "You're biased, dear."

Her eyes flickered to my lips. "Maybe."

I chuckled before closing the gap between us, connecting our lips in a short, sweet kiss. She relaxed against me before smiling as we pulled away.

"Ya lyublyu vas (I love you)," she whispered.

I always loved when she spoke in her native tongue. She sounded so at peace when she did and it warmed my insides.

"I love you, too," I whispered right back.

She grinned, carefree, before turning to lean on my shoulder again. I held her, enjoying the silence that formed between us. Her presence was always enough and I never wanted anything more. But I knew Wanda and I knew that she couldn't stay quiet for too long, so something was definitely up.

"What are you thinking?" I asked quietly, not wanting to startle her in case she was too deep into her thoughts.

She sighed. "It's stupid."

I smiled. "I doubt that."

It went quiet and I assumed she didn't want to share, but then she played with my fingers again as she spoke.

"I was wondering what it would be like if we were able to get married," she murmured. "With the dresses and walking down the aisle and the rings."

I laced my fingers through hers, the thoughts having crossed my mind at times, too. It was nice to think 'what if', but it was also a dangerous game.

"The wedding cake would have to be chocolate," I played along, not wanting her to think she couldn't talk about it.

She snickered, loosening up in my arms. "Of course. And the colour scheme would have to be red."

"Definitely," I agreed, knowing she wouldn't have it any other way, "...it could be somewhere small but comfortable. Surrounded by nature, maybe."

"Yes. With flowers all around us and the sound of birds tweeting in the trees."

A comforting smile crept on my lips as I closed my eyes, imagining it in my mind. What a beautiful day it would be.

"I'd force Pietro to be the ring bearer," she added as an afterthought, and I laughed, chest moving up and down with her on it.

"He'd hate that," I pointed out.

"Exactly," she said with a mischievous hum.

I rolled my eyes playfully. "What about afterwards? Where would you want to live?"

She scrunched her face up before settling with, "Somewhere remote. Away from people. Maybe a nice cottage somewhere."

Nodding in agreement, I said, "We could have a beautiful garden in the back. I'd do my very best to make it perfect for you. And you could paint whatever you wanted there."

A considerate smile tugged at her lips at the thought. "Yes! And we could get a pet. I've always wanted a pet."

"I guess we could... what pet do you want?"

With no hesitation, she said, "Chickens."

I looked down at her, quirking a brow. "Chickens?"

Looking up at me, she stared like it was self-explanatory. "They're cute and they lay eggs. Think about it. Fresh eggs for breakfast every morning."

God, she was so cute. I smiled, squeezing her hand. "Chickens it is, love."

She got excited as she tugged on my hand. "You can finally get a study of your own!"

"And you can get your own studio," I added, making her grin.

"And I'd keep it sparkling clean."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Don't lie, Wanda."

She rolled her eyes, though wore a humoured expression. "Okay, maybe not..."

"You can keep it as messy as you want," I promised her, as if it was actually going to happen and we'd get what we wanted.

The dream was so vivid in my mind that it could have been a memory. Wanda and I living together, peacefully and without hiding... if only we weren't in the wrong lifetime.

"I like to pretend that you gave this to me," she said after an unsettling silence fell upon us, raising her left hand for me to see. She wiggled her ring finger, the silver band and emerald gem glinting in the light. "It makes me feel better."

I swallowed hard and forced a smile, intertwining my fingers in hers and bringing them to my lips to kiss gently.

"Technically I picked it," I reminded her to lighten the mood, but it didn't work.

A sad smile appeared on her face. "Maybe in another lifetime, we could have met in a world that allowed this."

My smile faded into a frown at her words. Like I said, considering the 'what if's' was a dangerous game, and we'd already played too much of it.

"You're going to marry my brother soon," I said quietly, the realisation hitting me. "This– us, will have to stop."

She sat up and turned to face me, eyes looking between mine as she shook her head. "It doesn't have to."

I rested a hand on her cheek and she leaned into it, kissing my palm. I savoured the feeling of her lips against my skin.

"What we're doing isn't fair on either of us," I said reluctantly, afraid to say what we'd avoided for as long as our relationship lasted.

She frowned. "I'd rather have you like this than not at all."

My heart ached because I knew she was being genuine, and the truth is, I felt the same. But that brought me to our next dilemma.

"It's not fair on Y/B/N either."

She tensed her jaw. "The world doesn't want us together, Y/N. They're the ones who forced us to be like this."

"Like what?" I asked with knowing eyes. "Cheaters?"

Her eyes glossed over and it broke me to see her so hurt.

"Is it really cheating if I never wanted to be with him?" she asked with a shaky voice. "If I'm only acting out of duty? If I never loved him?"

Realising I'd saddened her, I moved forward and pulled her in for a hug, running my hand down her hair and to her back. "Sorry... I didn't mean to make you upset."

She sniffled and I felt her tears soaking my shirt. "Don't talk like that... I don't want to lose you."

I swallowed hard, nodding into her shoulder. "I don't want to lose you either, Wanda."

But I knew that deep down, we couldn't hold onto everything we wanted to in life. Deep down, she must have known that, too.

—

"...and this is where we write up the contracts. It's where we'd write up yours if you say yes."

Pietro grinned cheekily as I gave him a knowing look. He was showing me around the publishing house – a proper tour, not just me lurking around on the few visits I'd been here for Y/B/N – with hopes of convincing me to sign a contract with him.

"Pietro, you said you wouldn't be biased," Wanda warned, and I gave her a grateful smile as Pietro chuckled.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it," he apologised, though he definitely didn't mean it. "I just really think you'd be a great fit here, Y/N. I already have editors willing to work with you based on the few pages they've seen of your work."

I raised my eyebrows, startled. "Wow, seriously?"

He nodded. "Most definitely. As I told you the other night, you're talented. And with my help, you can be successful, too."

A smile fell on my lips uncontrollably. A real editor wanted to work with me. Woah.

"I'm gonna get some coffee," Wanda said, squeezing my shoulder. "I'll get you both some, too." She wagged a finger towards her brother. "Don't pressure her whilst I'm gone."

He raised his hands in defence. "Okay, calm down, sestra (sister). I'll be fair."

She lowered her finger, shot him a final look, then smiled at me before leaving for the café next door. I chuckled at how cute she was and how much she cared before returning my attention to Pietro.

"I won't pressure you," he said to me, perching on the edge of an empty desk. "I just want you to know that you'd be well looked after here. I wouldn't let anyone talk down to you, nor treat you with disrespect because you're a woman. I don't condone that here."

I relaxed at his words, offering him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Pietro. That really means a lot."

He returned the smile before his gaze moved over my shoulder. Smile fading, he cleared his throat awkwardly and looked away. I turned around, curious to what had caught his attention, and then I saw Y/B/N standing in the doorway, looking around for something. His eyes eventually fell on me and he perked up before heading our way.

I hadn't spoken to him since two nights ago after dinner. He'd actively avoided me, too and I wasn't complaining, having still harboured an unexplainable anger for him. What was he doing here?

"Y/N, hey," he said awkwardly, stopping before Pietro and I. His eyes flickered to Pietro before he asked me, "Can I speak with you?"

Instinctively, my jaw clenched and he seemed to notice as he shook his head quickly.

"Not to argue," he clarified. "Just to talk."

His eyes were pleading and I couldn't find it in myself to deny him. He was my brother after all, we couldn't argue forever. Nodding wordlessly, I smiled apologetically to Pietro before following Y/B/N to a quiet side of the room. My eyes ran along the many employees working away at their desks before falling to my brother before me.

"What is it?" I asked, maybe a little too harshly, but there was no going back now.

He frowned, eyes flittering around nervously. "I want to apologise for my behaviour the other night. I shouldn't have acted how I did."

I hugged myself as I shifted my weight between my feet. "Okay."

"You were right," he continued, finally meeting my eyes. "You deserve this. You've always been there for me, helping me with my writing when I needed it. I should have reacted better, but I let my jealousy get the better of me."

My mouth opened, surprised at his apology.

He offered me a sad smile. "The truth is, Y/N, we both know you'll be the more successful of us both. And you'll be so preoccupied with your own writing that you won't be able to help me anymore. And it was selfish of me to think that first, but I did. And I shouldn't have. I'm sorry. I'm your big brother and I should've been better."

Chewing on my lip, I let go of waist and straightened up, nodding slightly. "I– thanks. Thank you. For telling me that."

His shoulders relaxed as he nodded. "Also, you were right about what you said about Wanda. And I'm going to apologise to her first thing."

My expression softened at the mention of the girl who'd only ever been good to us. "She's seriously talented, Y/B/N."

"I know."

I nodded, stepping forward and resting a hand on his shoulder. Looking between his eyes, I only saw regret and I knew he was being genuine with his apology.

"You're forgiven," I told him with a small smile, before pulling him in for a quick hug.

He returned it and I felt relieved to know he was supportive. I didn't see a reason to not accept Pietro's deal now... everybody I cared about was okay with it.

"Wanda is here by the way," I told Y/B/N when we pulled apart. "She's just getting some coffee for us."

He nodded and we returned to Pietro, who gave me a concerned look. I smiled reassuringly and he relaxed before looking to my brother with a smile.

"Hey, Pietro, sorry for what I said last night," Y/B/N was quick to say. "It wasn't cool. I know you're not like that and I shouldn't have even thought it, let alone said it."

Pietro was one of the chillest people I'd met as he offered his hand out to my brother. "No worries, mate. Bygones."

They exchanged a handshake before my brother glanced to me.

"She's really good," he said to Pietro. "You'd be lucky to have her here."

My face heated up as Pietro nodded in agreement. The two of them looked to me with proud smiles and as uncomfortable as I felt with the attention, I was grateful to have their support.

"I know," Pietro said. "All she's got to do is say yes."

"You haven't said yes yet?" my brother asked with disbelief, before slapping me on the arm playfully. "Y/N! This is your chance!"

"And it's a big decision!" I reminded him.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but then I caught sight of Wanda over his shoulder and perked up. She smiled my way but then noticed Y/B/N's presence and proceeded with caution.

"Hey, I got you both a coffee," she said, giving Pietro his and handing me mine, but her eyes were searching mine with worry.

My hand brushed hers as I accepted my coffee and I squeezed it reassuringly. She seemed to believe me as her lips twitched into a small smile before looking to Y/B/N.

"Hey," she said to him quietly, biting her lip.

He glanced to me for encouragement and I gave him a subtle thumbs up. This seemed to help as he wiped his hands on his trousers before looking to Wanda hopefully.

"Hey," he finally spoke. "Please can we talk in private for a moment?"

She nodded, humming in response, and followed him to talk.

"Match made in heaven those two," Pietro said sarcastically, and I tried not to laugh, but damn was it funny.

"Look, I think I've made a decision," I said after a moment, feeling my heart speed up at the realisation of my next words.

"Oh? And what is it? Will you let me publish you?" Pietro asked, quirking a brow and watching me with an excited smile.

Well, there was only the future to look forward to now.

I grinned. "Yes."

#wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen imagine #marvel #mcu

[nymphigeon]

From me, to you || 07

♤ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

♤ Genre: fluff, angst, romance, hybrid au, hybrid!Taehyung, detective!reader

♤ Words: 2.5k

♤ Rating: PG-13

♤ Warnings (for this chapter): Mentions of hybrid abuse, swearing.

♤ A/N: Surprise! I'm really sorry it took me this long, but I finally found the time and drive to write again :) Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: A story in which he has never known love, so you’ll give it to him.

Series masterlist

06 07

"What do you mean this hybrid doesn't exist?"

Her eyes are wavering with an unspoken fear, perhaps caused by the bitterness my questions holds. I'm not happy, and she knows.

“It’s just, the chance that a dangerous breed such as the tiger hybrid would escape our system is basically zero..” The gaze she held on the computer screen unsurely moves my way. My expression must've instilled another layer of anxiety to the already existing one, as her mouth abruptly stops moving and her pupils dilate.

“Go on, explain.” The tone of my voice softens a bit as I notice her visible discomfort worsening. Even if there is no way that I’ll get any information from this place regarding Taehyung and his owner, I would still like to know why they’re both not showing up here.

Eun-ji takes a few deep breaths to stabilize her voice. As she does her posture slowly relaxes just a little and her eyes lose some of the nervousness they held before. “Because the first ‘successful’ tiger hybrid ran rampant after killing their creator, anyone who still breeds or creates them is being watched very closely by us, as well as by some other institutions.”

Perhaps it’s my lack of reaction that causes her to trail off at the end. Though I’m not judging her or her story, unlike she may think. To encourage her to continue, I give her a nod, tilting my head to show interest.

“The regular citizen isn’t even allowed to have one, needing special training to handle them. It’s like that for most hybrids that find their origins in wild animals. Creating tiger hybrids obviously requires a lot of knowledge when it comes to playing with genes and breeding them…. Well there are only three organization that are authorized to do so. All the resulting hybrids are registered and chipped.”

The explanation, which turns out to be a lengthy one, gets broken by a shuddering breath leaving her lips. She composes herself, clinging on to the little confidence she has left in her line of work to speak about the rest of her clarification.

“Of course people have tried to do it themselves, but those d.i.y operations have always ended in disappointment. If not taken proper care of, with substances only a board certified hybrid doctor can provide you, the pregnancy will fail. These are no easy practices they are dealing with.”

After the girls’ last words I give myself some time to think, letting a silence full of tension fill the room. It must be obvious that my mind is somewhere else at the moment, as the other girl in the room does her best to stay quiet. I don’t need much time however, my thoughts having quickly rearranged themselves as they were trained to do.

“So what you’re saying is, since tiger hybrids are hard to ‘create’, if you will, there are only a few people who actually manage to bring them to life. And so those few people are kept under close watch, as are the hybrids they successfully wake, am I correct?”

Eun-ji nods affirmatively, clearly happy that I seem to understand the situation. “So there is absolutely no way that someone without authorization has had a decent attempt at either genetically merging a human together with a tiger or getting a tiger hybrid pregnancy to be successful?”

Perhaps there might be a bit of scepticism in the question I asked, as her attitude immediately changes into a defensive one. “There is not! Whatever hybrid you’re searching for either gave you a false identity or is not a tiger hybrid at all, which would seem rather unlikely. I told you they get chipped right? Why not go look into that.”

“He doesn’t have one. We already had a hospital take a look at him, they didn’t find anything. ” The statement seems to shock her, the gears in her head instantly turning as to find an answer to this riddle. She however can’t seem to get one.

“They can be removed, can they not? They’re just under the skin. If someone decided to just cut it out they could. Terrifying, but plausible. Either that or one of your faithful authorized employees has been leaking information to outsiders.”

This is where Eun-ji seems to give up. Her shoulders sagging and a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “There would still be the problem of the missing equipment, test subjects, practice… How would you even get hold of fertilized human eggs to play around with? But I guess that wouldn’t be totally impossible. As for cutting it out… There would be a noticeable scar. The implants are always put in the same place, it wouldn’t be hard to miss.”

I make a mental note stating to ask Taehyung about all of this when I get back. If anyone knows how he got onto this world it would be him. “Is there a possibility that you could have someone look into it?” The girl nods in defeat, paying more attention to the ground than to anything else. “I’ll see if I can get someone on the case. I’ll have them contact you if we know anything.”

After those words she turns around in her chair, facing the monitor that had already put itself into sleep, and turns it off. Taking a notepad out of the drawer to her left, she quickly writes something down with the pen from her breast pocket. “I’ll get on it right away. Would you like me to walk you back to the exit?”

I shake my head. “No It’s okay, I’ll find my way back. Thank you for cooperating.” Eun-ji gives me a small smile, followed by a bow and walks out of the room taking the note with her, presumably immediately keeping herself busy with the extra work. Not wanting to waste any time I copy her, walking myself back into the direction we came from. Turns out it proves quite easy to find the exit by myself.

It’s already far past dinnertime when I make it back to the office. Not many of my colleagues have remained in their seats, most of them opting for a nice meal with their families. The few that have stayed behind are mostly known to live alone, quite like myself.

I quietly knock on my supervisor’s door, but when no response emerges from within the room, I can safely deduce that she too has already returned home. “I’ll have to write her a report about today later..” I mutter to myself, before stepping away from the door and instead heading to the cells at the back.

Technically the arrest period had already ended for Taehyung, as the law wouldn’t allow us to keep him locked up for any longer without any charges being held against him. His cell however technically was never locked and so even now, he is free to go wherever he wants. Though it didn’t change the fact that he still has no place to go to.

“Good evening. Had anything to eat yet?” He just chose to stay here and we accepted it. “Oh, hello! Yes, that tall handsome bulky man gave me something earlier, I can’t remember his name. He said something about it ‘being the best shit in town’.”

I slightly giggle at his quote, knowing immediately who it belongs to. “That definitely sounds like something Namjoon would say. What did he give you?”

Taehyung looks a lot better than he did yesterday. The stress of the interrogation seems to have completely worn off, instead traded for the sweet bouncy personality he used to show around me.

“Umm it was something in the shape of a circle and it had meat all over it… Oh! I think he called it a pizza? It was delicious!”

“You’ve never had pizza before?” The words leave my mouth before I actually get the chance to process them, causing me to instantly regret ever even opening my mouth. These days are stressful enough for him as they are, he doesn’t need a painful reminder of the life he never got to live on top of that.

The question doesn’t seem to hit him as hard as I though it would though. In fact, his demeanour doesn’t seem to change at all. Although sadly, it doesn’t make his next words any less painful. “Nope! When I first got adopted all they would feed me was wet cat food. It wasn’t great, but at least I got my three meals a day. The foster family I stayed at after my first owners mysteriously disappeared didn’t actually have the money to even take proper care of themselves, so at that time all I would get was whatever was left of their dinner that day, if there was even any left. It was mostly just greens. The lack of meat made me real sick at the time.”

He pauses talking for a second to look up at my face through the metal bars. The content look on his face quickly changes to one of worry once he catches my eyes. It’s no mystery why, I know I look at him pitifully. Even if he may not wish for my concern, I am only human. I can perfectly hide it when I need to, but this is not one of those cases.

“There it is again, that sad look on your face…” He sits up straight on the side of his bed to fully observe me, a tilt of his head giving him away. I send a sad chuckle his way as I reach for the door of his enclosure, inviting myself into the small space with him. He doesn’t object.

“Is it that obvious?” It was meant more as a way to lighten the mood, not as an actual question that needs answering. He still does however, giving me a simple slow nod. “You don’t need to feel bad for me.”

“Someone has to. You deserve at least that much.”

There’s a chair neatly placed under a small desk in the room. It used to be quite lively, with all kinds of bright colours blending into each other. It was a little positive additive into the dark grey room, but after all the anger that has been acted out on it, it no longer has that same shine.

I pull the chair out to place myself upon it, straddling the seat while I rest my arms on top of the back rest. Facing the tiger I use my arms as a pillow to lean my head on, making myself comfortable on the creaking furniture.

“Say, Taehyung, do you remember anything from when and where you were formed?”

He seems slightly taken aback at first, though quickly regains his composure. He also doesn’t immediately answer, first taking some time to think before coming back to me. “I was born a hybrid to two purebred tiger hybrids. They did their best trying to care for me in the little time we got to spend together, but seeing as it happened on a breeding farm getting to spend time with my parents wasn’t the plan. I got sold off pretty quickly, as soon as I learned to hold my first few full conversations.”

“Do you… Would you happen to know what happened to the farm? To your parents?” I fail to hide my apprehensiveness, needing too much space to form a careful approach. This shouldn’t feel like an interrogation to him, I never even announced one. There is little reason for him to answer me, the vital information from his side has already been given anyway. Nonetheless, even though I probably shouldn’t be doing this right now, I can’t just miss this opportunity.

“I heard my adoptive family talking about how the place was burnt down a while later. Most likely the police had caught a hold of it and they had to delete their left behind evidence. Both building and hybrids.”

Despite talking about the death of his parents, he seems to tell the story with relative ease. Probably not having much connection with the far past, his brain too young to truly hold on to the memory of them.

“They were successful too, as the case got dropped faster than lightning. It wasn’t long before the general public forgot about it too, believing it was just another misunderstanding. Besides, hybrid lives weren’t as important anyway.”

The amount of rights hybrids had when they were first created back in the day were close to zero, only strictly being seen as objects to show off whatever possible wealth one may have had. For a while there was even a popular theory going around that hybrids didn’t actually have the ability to feel any kind of emotion or pain. The genetic puzzle wouldn’t allow for it, as it had been tampered with to an extreme extent. This only built on the carelessness shown towards them, slowly chipping away at their sanity.

Although the rumours were wrong, they came from a place of truth. Facial expressions were rare for hybrids, as was the ability to speak. Most of them couldn’t even keep up with regular humans, exhaustion quickly taking over the little anger they could show. Scientists hadn’t yet quite figured out how to perfectly combine the pieces of genetic code and so hybrids were more like living dolls in the eyes of evil humans. Having no voice to object and barely any means to actually hurt anyone, it wasn’t much of a surprise the selfish nature in humans came to rise.

Luckily, or depending on how you look at it, sadly, these first generation hybrids were never able to reproduce. The doll like hybrid features eventually died out with the rise of the newly perfected pieces and the theory was debunked by a group of scientist who actually did care about the hybrids’ wellbeing. Those hybrids had lived through countless punishments, and every single one of them had hurt. A lot.

Right now hybrids in a lot of ways are superior to the rest of us. Having the combined senses of both animal and human alike, society has reluctantly given up on trying to contain them. They are still to be bought and owned, but no longer to be treated like dirt. The smartest of hybrids have even already gotten complete freedom to do as the please, no longer having to be bound to a human to roam freely. However, those unable to pass the close to impossible tests aren’t so lucky.

“I’m sorry about what happened.”

Taehyung gives me a reassuring wave of his hand, effectively trying to lighten the mood, along with a sad smile. It wouldn’t take a trained professional to know he still longs for his parent’s presence, even if he may do well hiding it.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.”

That doesn’t make the situation more okay, but I hold my remarks back. For now, that might just be for the best.

Taglist

@suhappysuho @intellectualxprincess @sana-b @littlewolfieposts @nellaphine @the8luvr @deathkat657 @elenaramos1 @namjoonies-dimple

#bangtanarmynet #microgalaxynet #btsgoldnet #btsguild #magicshopnet #bts #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts scenario #bts taehyung #bts fic #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts hybrid fanfic #bts hybrid au #bts taehyung x reader #taehyung #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenarios #taehyung hybrid au #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop hybrid au #kpop fluff

[lithi]

Haha I translated this video

(For a better understanding, please watch this one first!)

-> Back then, I was in a situation where I had to urgently create special content for Volume 5, but since I was also working on the updates, I didn't have time to think about a concept, so I realised I had never drawn something like this.

(A behind the scenes I couldn’t mention last time)

-> The concept and color scheme are decided.

Trying to change the color around and changing the shape of the outfits to find something that feels nicer.

-> Since it’s a set of pictures, I must compare them so they don’t feel to different to the other.

-> Trying to match the proportions of the two characters.

Since I started directly from the sketch, Ijekiel is hurting a lot in the back haha

-> At first, I was drawing a sporty concept, but in response to the opinion of the editorial department, I decided to change it to a k-idol outfit, with school uniforms vibes.

-> After all, it was a randomly drawn picture, so now I have to modify the proportions of the human body... TT

-> Now I have to draw Jennette’s face properly.

-> I wonder if it’ll be a pretty pattern...

Now I’m trying to customise it to get the feeling I want.

-> The battle with the pattern continues...

The change of the pattern must reflect according to the movement of the fabric.

-> I thought it would be nice if the boys' clothes have detailed logos , so I'm testing and putting various logos.

-> I had no proper text that came to mind, so most of it are the characters’ names or information Ha ha ha

-> I didn’t think through it properly at the beginning, so I kept crying and thinking that it would be so much easier if I had the kids’ birthday dates... so I remembered

-> There were meant readers who were also curious. Since there was no birthday in the original work, I was thinking that I could make them up...

-> I wanted to make the birthdays at this point, so I asked the editorial department if it would be okay to make birth dates for them, and they said okay so I'm going to make a birthday for them sooner or later!

-> Athy would be in early summer or July, which is articulated with a vaguely emerging image, Claude was born in February, Jennette in early fall... Around September? Lucas, on December 25. Ijekiel on spring... I think he was born in March. Only Lucas has a set date... I think. *feeling omnipotent*

-> Anastasius feels like a raw mid-winter in January. I think October is good for the uncle White. I think Felix was born in midsummer/July. Lily's name is Lily (lillies bloom in summer) so it would be good in August.

-> The color scheme and details came out roughly.

I started doing the lineart.

-> I feel like I’m unconsciously doing the wrinkles of their shirts bigger.

-> I’m using different props.

I continue doing the lineart.

-> Also squeezing in logos or text. [‘Warning’ on Lucas’ shoe] Dangerous man Lucas...!

-> Since it is a bonus that comes with Volume 5, I will also put information about Volume 5.

(She wrote “volume 5” on the boys’ clothes)

-> Ijekiel looks a little sporty, so I was worried, but I think the active feeling looks fine, so I keep going as it is.

-> Since the wrong placement was the problem from the start, Ijekiel is going to suffer until the end...

-> I was asked to draw him behind Lucas, so even if he’s a bit hidden, he has to stand out well on himself.

-> But Ijekiel keeps avoiding with Lucas and it’s getting annoying to draw

-> It’s difficult...

Can’t you two get closer to each other?

-> I feel like I’m adding too many layers... But it looks nice and cool. I'm drawing them to look relaxed.

-> The boys’ lineart is over to some extent, so we start with the girls’ lineart.

-> When I keep drawing for the webtoon and then switch to draw illustrations, the feeling is very different and I get lost every time.

How do I do it...?

-> However, I can’t run past the deadline, so I have to work even if I want to sleep.

-> It feels like I’m broadcasting live.

I must prepare my mind and organize my materials nicely. Ugh! It could be nice if I could draw very carefully... but I always say ‘but first I have to do...’

-> Sometimes I feel like I have to search through my whole body for the skills to do something and have to scrape all down to the bottom to find it... It feels like a constant fight.

-> I rarely draws girls’ legs because in the WMMAP world, women are wearing long dresses.

So it's fun to draw a short skirt and legs after a long time.

-> Jennette is friendly with Athy, so their pose wasn't hard to find at all.

I drew it straight out easily.

-> After all, drawing legs is interesting~

-> the girls' line art is also finished, and then the coloring begins.

-> (this is a wordplay on Hangul so I had to translate it somehow) IJKLALPHS is now Ijekiel Alpheus haha

I’ll stop now because I don’t have much to use...

-> Still, thanks to the formative features of Hangeul, wouldn't it look geometrically cool to foreign fans?

-> Trying to find a nice variation by trying out different types of letters...

-> Even I gave up on IJKLALPHS haha

-> After roughly finishing the coloring, I hurry up with Athy’s color scheme, gogo!

-> The pattern in put in the sketch was filled properly.

-> I’m always attentive to do the patterns and wrinkles around the sewing lines nicely.

-> This process seems boring and not more rewarding than I originally thought when I was doing it... But the pattern is perfect! It really stands out when you first see it.

It’s like doing house chores...

-> If you know how to do it well, it’s okay, but if you don't, it's annoying..

So, pattern twisting should be done with the feeling of laying the foundation.

-> Now it’s time to pour the colors following the areas.

-> I am working on the details a little more. When you pour the colors, it is easier to see the details compared to when you only did the line art.

-> After this, I start coloring more in detail.

-> Now I won’t touch anything but little more details and the shape. In fact, I’ll keep doing it until the end.

-> I am modifying the smileys one by one to suit each character. After fixing it all, I was proud. It's cute.. haha

-> I’ll proceed to continue coloring.

-> This drawing is very a hip fashion themed, and there a lot of black, so I paint the skin with a lower saturation than usual.

-> Lucas’ colouring is not complete, but at this point, I’ll also proceed to colour Ijekiel.

I alternately paint the one and then the other to see the balance between the two.

-> Then, the coloring of the boys is not over yet, but I start coloring the girls too in order to balance them.

-> [the balance the colors of the boys and the girls], I select the boys’ main colors with a pipette and use them [to paint the girls].

-> Even if the balance is correct, the girls seem to have been paint much brightly, so I increased the temperature of their skin color.

-> In order to equally increase the nice complementing of the characters, I continuously compare and correct it.

-> At this stage, we pass the image to the editorial department and wait for feedback to see if there are any corrections that need to be done.

Afterwards, I was unable to record the rest by mistake, but I adjusted the color of the jacket to a dark color because Athy’s hair color is bright and the jacket color was too bright to see the character. So the vest became pink... So I changed the ribbon and socks to the same ones as Jennette to show that they are wearing the same uniform.

(+ And added blackie to her back hahaha)

#spoon’s youtube channel #who made me a princess #wmmap #sbap #sbapod #suddenly became a princess one day #i suddenly became a princess

[1-800-seo]

Pairing: Lee Taeyong X Gender Neutral Reader

Song: The Louvre - Lorde (lyrics mentioned)

Genre: Fluff/Artist!You + Poet!Taeyong

Warnings: suspicions of cheating, alcohol consumption, slightly tipsy-ness, some kissing, implied sexual content but not explicit. 

Word Count: 4000 approx. 

Summary: As wandering, travelling college students on a gap year, meeting each other in the Louvre was purely coincidental, and usually summer flings weren’t your thing, but Taeyong was different. And like a moth to a flame, you were entranced.

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

The floorboards creak as the tour group shuffles down the hallways of the Louvre, passing many other tourists. The tour group leader stops at another painting and begins his explanation of the painting you see in front of you; well, you would be able to see it if you weren’t at the back of the group. Craning your neck to see, you stand on your tiptoes, before realising it is all in vain. Forgetting the other artwork, you swivel to see another painting on the wall adjacent to it and peer upon it instead. A young icy blond haired man stands beside you, examining the artwork too. He wears a baggy striped t-shirt that shows his delicate collarbones, tucked into a pair of black skinny jeans, a necklace gently hanging around his neck. He looks positively comfy, but effortlessly chic; you can’t help but stare at his chiselled jawline either. The man looks as if he was carved out of marble, angular lines with delicate features, he was stunningly beautiful. And suddenly, you realise you’ve been staring way too long when he turns his head and catches you. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He says, but you sense no malice in his voice as a warm smile creeps up his face. Looking at the ground, the painting, anywhere, you apologise; “Ah, I’m sorry… uhm I like your outfit.” You reply gingerly, unsure of what to say to remedy the situation. “Thank you! It’s new.” He sits down on a near bench, eyes trained on the painting ahead. “As great as this painting is, I cannot stand scenes of suffering - I really struggle to find the beauty in them.” He blurts out after a moment. “Why’s that?” You curiously reply. You’ve always liked paintings from the romanticism era, the painting in question being ‘The Raft of the Medusa’ by Theodore Gericault. “For instance, this painting shows their suffering, and just that itself is not nice to see, but the colour palette is so murky to me. What do I know though, I’m no artist.” You understand what he means, as an art major, you had to analyse this piece one semester. “I get where you are coming from, the aging of the paints makes it appear murkier than the artist intended, and I think that adds to the whole ‘suffering’ aspect.” As you end your sentence, you turn your head and realise the tour group has moved on. You pat him on the shoulder and point in the direction of the crowd. He swears under his breath before standing up and leading the way back with the group. What a beautiful stranger. 

Once the tour group has ended, you vacate the Louvre, more sightseeing to do. After a busy day of staring up at the Arc De Triomphe and climbing the stairs of the Eiffel tower, you end up walking by the Louvre again since you previously spotted a cute cafe you wanted to try out. Now dusk, the water display is illuminated, bathed in light and bubbling. You see a familiar figure sat on the wall beside it, looking slightly lost and reading from a notebook. Unsure whether to help, you continue walking on to the cafe, this would only take a minute or two. Once done, with two coffees in hand, you walk back to the Louvre and the figure still sitting on the wall. 

“Are you ok? You seem a bit lost?” You gently ask, testing the waters. The man from the gallery looks back up to you, big expressive eyes staring back, and you sense a hint of worry in them. “Hi, yeah, I’m a bit lost. My phone died and I can’t find my way back to my hotel.” He says, forlorn. “Well, I bought you a coffee, if you’d like it, and I don’t mind helping! I can maybe help with directions.” You hand the coffee towards him, and he takes it from you, eyes lighting up as he does. “Aww thank you! That would mean a lot to me, and thank you for the coffee.” You sit down on the wall next to him as you pull up Google maps on your phone. “It’s no problem. Where are you staying? I’ll put it into maps and have a look.” “I’m staying at the mur de coquelicots hotel.” “Oh no way! I’m staying there too! I know exactly where it is, we can walk back together.” “That sounds great.” He replies with a smile, eyes shining. 

The pair of you walk through the city as the sun sets and the moon begins to shine. Conversation flows easily, and you find yourself totally enamoured with this stranger. He’s bubbly and friendly, charismatic and charming, simultaneously shy and chatty. It’s hard not to stare as he speaks to you, it’s an added bonus that he’s gorgeous. Unfortunately, the walk is over quicker than you’d like and you two enter through the lobby of the cheap but nice enough hotel. You make your way into the elevator with him, and press your floor. “Well it was nice meeting you. I just realised I don’t even know your name.” You giggle. “I’m Y/N.” “Thank you for your help Y/N, I’m Taeyong by the way.” “You’re welcome, goodnight Taeyong.” You bid your farewell and exit the lift, the doors opening as you finish your sentence. 

As you reach the door to your room, you fiddle with the key card, excitement bubbling up inside of you. What a lovely guy. You flop down on the comfy hotel bed once you’re inside of the room. Spending all summer in Paris was becoming more and more like a dream come true. 

The sun shines through the translucent curtains as you gather your things into your tote bag and get ready to leave the hotel room for breakfast. You wander over to the quaint bakery across the road from the hotel, and spot a familiar figure sitting in the outdoor seating with a newspaper. The blonde haired man sports a beret, and looks positively relaxed as he munches away on a croissant. You pick out a pastry, before walking over. “Is this seat taken?” You ask, and pull out the chair to sit down. “No, feel free to sit.” He replies with a smile. You sit opposite to him and shift in your seat to get comfortable. “What a lovely morning, right?” His smile beams as he looks your way. “Definitely! I love the warm weather.” You say, “it’ll be perfect to paint in.” “Oh so, you’re a painter? That’s cool, Paris is perfect for inspiration. It’s certainly aiding me.” “Yeah, I’m a painter, I’m here as an international student on study leave. What do you do?” “I’m an English literature major, specialising in poetry, so I’m here finding inspiration for poems of my own.” “Well, you’re certainly at the right place. Speaking of inspiration, I’m going to visit the Palace of Versailles today if you’d like to come with me and are not busy. I thought since you’re alone here, you might want to?” You ask, rubbing your hands over your arms, a slight shiver of nervousness at your sudden offer. “That sounds amazing! Thank you for the invite. What time are you thinking of leaving?” His eyes light up at your offer and your nervousness is put at bay. “Around 12pm, and you’re very welcome.” You reply.  “Sounds good, I’ll meet you here at 12pm then?” He responds chirpily. “Sounds good to me.” 

Okay I know that you are not my type (still I fall.) I'm just the sucker who let you fill her mind

(But what about love?)

Nothing wrong with it

Supernatural

Just move in close to me, closer, you'll feel it coasting

This wasn’t something you usually did. Asked our strangers or chose to spend time with ones you are not familiar with. But it was almost a supernatural attraction. He was not your usual type at all, but something strong and lulling was moving over you. Something indescribable, beyond enchanting. 

Walking around the luscious gardens of the Palace of Versailles was just a sight to behold. The beauty that is held within was stunning. It was as you strolled around it that Taeyong took your hand in his; so casually that you didn’t think anything of it at first, but then it hit you and your heart fluttered. You smiled wide as he looked at you with tender eyes. It’s not wrong to move this fast right? Nothing wrong with a summer fling. 

Nothing wrong with it, supernatural. 

As the two of you walk around, conversation flows freely. You speak of previous art pieces and he talks about writing, he tells you about how long he’s been in Paris and so many other things. Before you know it, you two find yourselves under a grand stone archway, and conversation trails off delicately. “You’re so beautiful, I love the way the sunlight hits you. I think you’d make a beautiful painting yourself.” He says unexpectedly. A bubble rises through your chest, and you know what you want to do. You lean forward, placing your hands gently either side of his head and you kiss him. His soft lips meet yours and you are drinking each other in. The kiss is brief but heavenly all the same. As you pull away you notice a light blush over his cheeks and a dorky grin on his face. You feel the same grin on yours. 

After a lovely day together walking around the palace’s gardens and opulent rooms, you decide to head back and get some food together. Being students and not having a ton of money, you both decide to get food from a local convenience store and to eat it on the hotel room balcony. “What do you fancy eating?” He asks, his hand still grasped around yours as you peruse the items in the shop. “I think I fancy some quiche, what are you thinking?” “I think I’ll get some cheese and crackers.” He adds, checking out the foreign cheeses. Once the pair of you have your haul, you head back up to the hotel room, and lay out your spread on the balcony table. The sun is setting gently in the distance and it illuminates the skies in gentle peaches and pinks. In his company, it just feels so comfortable, so cosy. 

A rush at the beginning. 

At the shop, you also purchase a bottle of wine, and the two of you share it together. Perhaps the cosy feeling is from that, you don’t know, but either way; you enjoy being in his company and don’t regret talking to the beautiful stranger in the Louvre. After some time, you’re both positively tipsy, not drunk, just giggly and happy. Taeyong starts dancing on the balcony, languid movements and sharp ones intertwined into a beautiful choreography. You’re not quite sure how he learnt to dance this way, he deserves to be on a stage. But for tonight, you were his audience. 

Drink up your movements, still I can’t get enough. 

He flows freely, not unlike a puppet on a string, controlled by some unseen forces to move his body in ways you could never. “Where did you learn that dance?” You ask, intrigued to no end. “I’m freestyling, just making it up.” Of course, he’s beautiful, intelligent, kind, and talented. “That’s crazy, you’re amazing.” You reply, and he blushes at your compliment. “One minute, I’m just going to go to the bathroom.” He replies, and sets his phone down on the table. “See you in a sec.” Whilst he’s gone you sit and stare at the beautiful dusk sky that is out ahead. You’re aware that what you have with Taeyong is quite the whirlwind, but you really can’t find the space to care. There isn’t any damage being done, and you’re young so now’s the time to have fun and be carefree. You’re in Paris, maybe it’s called the City of Love for a reason? 

As almost to interrupt your thinking, Taeyong’s phone buzzes on the table and the screen illuminates in front of you. You can’t help but see what the message says, it’s right there in front of you. The message is from “이 소연” and it reads: “Missing you, my dear, can’t wait to have you back in my life. Enjoy Paris <3” 

Is it possible he has a partner? Were you not the only one? It’s entirely possible that you were just a summer fling to him, and he actually has a partner back home. 

I overthink your punctuation use. Not my fault, just a thing that my mind do.  A rush at the beginning. I get caught up, just for a minute. 

Were you just getting caught up with everything? Did you really just rush into things without even a second thought. Of course, you were being naive, you didn’t even ask if he was single before kissing him. And yes, he reciprocated but what did that mean? You were just the enabler. 

Alas, you had to move on with the night, getting suspicious of him and acting weird wouldn’t help right now. So when he comes back onto the balcony, you continue the night as normal, pushing down your feelings. Perhaps it was his sister. You really cannot presume. Despite your logical side being sensible, your emotional side still fought a battle. Warring to be front and centre of your thoughts. You know you can’t let it get the better of you though. And so, you carry on with the night, albeit slightly stilted now; and you make an excuse to go to bed earlier than you normally would. You scuttle off to your hotel room across the hall and settle in for the night. Thoughts swirling around and around in your mind. 

Can you hear the violence? Megaphone to my chest, broadcast the boom, boom, boom. 

The sun rises overhead, almost fully above the buildings as you nibble on your croissant quietly. The streets are starting to come to life as you watch from the local bakery with your morning coffee. Desperately, you try to put your mind at ease, try to push down the onslaught of intrusive thoughts; illogical as they come. After 20 minutes, you start to feel more at peace, you watch the dainty flowers sway in the morning breeze in their pot. You almost expect to feel worse when you see him. He approaches you, leather satchel hanging at his waist, and waves as he comes. Instead you don’t feel worse, you just feel oddly numb. Completely sensationless as you put on a smile in return to his wave. He sits down in the chair across from you, and places his satchel on the floor next to his chair. 

“Good morning! How are you today? I hope you’re not hungover from the wine last night.” He says with a giggle. “I know I certainly am, but I’m trying to be positive.” He adds, and you notice his slightly ruffled bed head, must’ve been from a rough sleep. “Ahh, you certainly are doing a good job of being positive then,” you reply with a smile that reaches your eyes and crinkles them, “luckily, I don’t feel hungover. I’m just enjoying the morning slowly and as it comes.” Which is true, you decided you’d take today as it comes. “I’m glad you don’t feel too bad then. I’m just going to nip inside to get something to eat, do you want anything?” He rises from his chair and gestures to the shop door. “No thank you, I just finished a croissant before you came, but thanks anyway.” “No worries.” And he leaves to enter the boulangerie. 

I’m just the sucker who let you fill her mind. 

You didn’t want to make things awkward with Taeyong. It wasn’t worth it, at the end of the day, all you did was kiss him once. Perhaps you needed to find out more about him, get the full context at least. When Taeyong sits back down the conversation starts back up again and turns to family life. “So do you have any family back home?” You ask curiously. “What, in Korea? Yeah, I do. I have my parents back home and a sister. Yerin, she’s 15 and quite the handful. I miss her, but for now FaceTime calls will suffice.” He lets out a low chuckle at his own joke, making the situation a bit lighter. His answer doesn’t provide any clues to your questions though. “Aww that’s nice, I have a sister too. But she’s older than me. Do you have a partner at all?” You ask now, testing the waters. “Nope, just me, myself, and I.” “Same for me.” Well, that also doesn’t answer your questions. You’re pretty sure that the text earlier wasn’t from his sister, and you expect his mum to be down in his phone as a term of endearment; not a full name so it can’t be her. Is it better to give up the search? Maybe asking Taeyong more later would help. But what to say? Future you would deal with that. For now, you had the whole day ahead. 

“So what do you have planned today?” He inquired now, breaking you from your thoughts. “I’m just going to go paint in the local park, do you fancy being my sitter? I need more anatomy practice.” “Ooh of course! I’ve never done anything like that before.” And so today’s plans were set. How could you pass up on the opportunity to paint someone built so divinely like Taeyong? Personal interests aside, Taeyong was made to be immortalised in artwork forever. His sharp jawline, large emotive eyes, and slim frame all coming together to create the perfect sitter for you. A painting of him, no matter the artist who painted it, should be hung in the Louvre. A masterpiece deserving of being viewed by everyone and adored. 

Our thing progresses

I call and you come through

The spot you are situated in is perfect, a lush knoll leading out onto a tulip field, the many colours like a rainbow behind Taeyong. You’d decided to paint him in watercolour, partially because of the easy clean up, partially because you want to capture his true beauty, the delicate tones of his skin, hair, and eyes; the gentle dips of his collarbone, the sinewy muscle of his arms. 

Taeyong poses quietly, the silence a comfortable one, as you begin painting him. He looks thoughtful, looking out into space behind you, he almost seems meditative, eyes blinking slowly and breathing even. As you mix the colour of his skin tone on your watercolour pan, you see him sigh, and wonder what he is thinking about. From what you know, Taeyong’s an introspective person, much like you, and perhaps that’s the mood he is in today. You are the same. It’s hard in the silence for your thoughts not to turn to the message. Intrusive thoughts fly around like bats in the night time; even if he was cheating, could you not push it aside for the sake of a summer fling? Logical thoughts cross out that of the intrusive ones - of course not, how could you be the other person in his relationship for the sake of selfishness? It’s important to be communicative, and if you have your worries - suspicions - then should you not speak to him about it? Sometimes things are better left unsaid, yes, but this is not one of them. 

With a new resolve, you decide to talk to him come the evening. Clarification is what you need, and you must bolster up the courage to get it. 

I am your sweetheart psychopathic crush

You know what they say about alcohol, it’s liquid courage, and after a glass of wine or two, you finally feel bold enough to approach Taeyong. You open your hotel room door, and cross the hallway to his. A sharp rap on the door brings you to Taeyong’s attention, and he pads across the room to open the door. You stand near the threshold, looking almost alarmed, like a deer in headlights. Perhaps you came underprepared and unrehearsed. “C-can I talk to you?” You ask, words stuttering on their way out. “Of course, come in.” He replies gently, sensing your unease as he gestures for you to come in. 

Once you’re both situated on the balcony in those damn uncomfortable plastic chairs, you begin to talk. “Do you have a partner, Taeyong?” You fiddle with your hands, eyes glued to them in aversion from his eyes. “No, why?” He replies, head cocked to the side in confusion. “When you went to the bathroom the other day, your phone was on the table directly in front of me, and pardon me for breaking your privacy, but I couldn’t help but read the preview of the message that came up. It said “missing you, my dear, can’t wait to have you back in my life. Enjoy paris,” and then there was a love heart at the end. I’ve probably got the wrong end of the stick, but I’ve been so cautious because I don’t want to be that other person in a relationship. I don’t think you’re lying to me, I just wanted to be sure, and ask you since it’s been bothering me.” 

Taeyong takes a hold of your hand in his and smooths his thumb over the back of it in a comforting gesture. “I promise darling, I’m not dating anyone. That was my crazy ex. I broke up with her roughly six months ago, and she’s still sending me random messages. The only reason why she knows about me being in Paris is because she keeps hounding my mother for information. She keeps mentioning about me being back in her life, but I promise to you that I have no intention of even seeing her or speaking to her. She’s a mad woman.” At his words you feel tension release inside your chest. Your body feels lighter and you feel a wave of relief. Thank goodness for that. 

“I’m sorry you’re having to deal with that Taeyong, and thank you for clearing things up. None of this is my place but, I appreciate you filling me in.” Now you look into his eyes, the dark earthy spheres look back at you as the remaining sunlight gives them a glossy shine. You smile back and he leans forward, lips meeting yours in a kiss. You drink him in now, no longer hesitant to taste him. To him you taste so heavenly, the remaining mature hints of red wine mixed with something inherently just you, has him high with the feeling. He moves his hands to your waist now and you climb onto his lap, eager to be closer to him, to touch him. He fiddles with the hem of your shirt in his grip as you kiss down his neck now, lapping at the warm tan skin. “Let’s go inside, yeah?” He whispers in your ear, and you nod in agreement. 

Well, summer slipped us underneath her tongue,

Our days and nights are perfumed with obsession, Half of my wardrobe is on your bedroom floor, Use our eyes, throw our hands overboard. 

The morning light spills into the room through the translucent dainty cream curtains as they flow in the wind. The window is open to let the summer air flow in, and you don’t feel a chill at all. Taeyong’s warm skin radiates a heat you’ve never quite experienced, it’s so homely and cosy. The feeling of your head on his chest as you listen to his heartbeat unlike any other else. It’s nice to just be held, to feel the closeness of another human being and feel utterly comfortable. 

You think back to the portrait of him you painted yesterday, and somehow you think it’s your best piece. There’s nothing like being able to capture a person with the aura whole. The piece emits something wholly him, just him. You think that’s why it might be your favourite. Maybe someday they’ll hang it in the Louvre, you giggle to yourself at that thought and Taeyong stirs underneath you. “What’s so funny, baby?” He asks, spoken with a gruff morning voice low and gravelly. “I was thinking about your portrait, and I thought about how you could hang it in the Louvre. But only because it’s you.” 

“They’ll hang us in the Louvre, down the back, but who cares, still the Louvre.” He replies, a blissed out look on his face. He’s right, maybe not about yourself, but about him. He might just be the ultimate muse. 

But we’re the greatest 

They’ll hang us in the Louvre

Down the back, but who cares - still the Louvre

thank you for reading! this fic is for the ‘Now Playing’ collab by @haechanblr and it was a joy to take part!! I hope everyone liked this hehe :))

If ur interested in more of my works my masterlist is here <3

#nshitty frathouse #taeyong fluff #nct fluff #lee taeyong #taeyong smut #nct smut #lee taeyong smut #lee taeyong fluff #nct 127 #nct #nct u #superm #superm smut #superm fluff #kpop fluff #kpop smut #kpop angst #nct angst #taeyong angst #nct one shot #kpop one shot #collabs #now playing collab #collab

[dolliedarlin]

⏤l o v e s t r u c k 

s u m m a r y : you have a quirk called 'animate' and it's very emotions-based, meaning that if you feel a very strong emotion, you're able to animate things and however strong that emotion is, the stronger it is the things you animate. Also, the pupil of your eyes can change shape or colour in accordance - red for anger and blue for saddness. In battle this is useful for animating weapons and such, however, when you fall in love...it's usefulness isn't always straightforward.

a / n : this is my first time writing for bnha characters so i'm really sorry for any inaccuracies in personalities. also, i, unfortunately, have only been able to think of this imgaine concerning bakugou and todoroki. even so, please enjoy the read!

w a r n i n g s : profanity by the obvious culprit

k a t s u k i  b a k u g o u  

❥ it happened when you saw his passion and drive during practice...

❥ You always held a deep admiration for people who knew what they wanted and fought for it no matter what. Those were your parents, pro heroes who fought for the greater good as well as each other, and you, so you wanted to be like them and make them proud.

❥ Not only that but you were also a fanatic about LOVE.

❥ Your parents may have only had you as their only child but the insurmountable amount of love they had for each other would give birth to over a hundred children.

❥ You wouldn't have minded having younger siblings but you knew that your parents, being pro heroes themselves, were already risking too much with having their relationship public as well as their status as parents.

❥ By hearing them always gushing over how wonderful it feels to be in love and to be loved back as well as seeing how they act around each other - still a pair of love-struck teenagers in love - you were eager to meet the love of your life and fight for him

❥ During training or instances when you have to fight, it's that want to love and be loved that also fuels the power behind your animations. This power has only strengthened the instant you found the person you were destined to stand with forever.

❥ Bakugou Katsuki.

❥ The moment you took the time to look at him, really look at him and understand who he was was during tests and hero training.

❥ He's a skilled fighter with passion and drive. Admittedly, he's as explosive as his quirk and as rude as rude can get but you saw through that every time his eyes narrowed into a focused stare whenever he was fighting or studying.

❥ It really shows through how passionate he is about becoming the number one hero and you found yourself falling hard for him every time you saw the fire behind his eyes.

❥ It was just so attractive; your little heart couldn't take it!

❥ The time you really fell for him was during the final exams.  Yes, he was stubborn but only because he was so determined. Yes, it was a struggle and they almost lost all home but he never gave up. He was the perfect one for you.

❥ Although you were worried and scared for them at the time, your heart skipped many beats and you soon found those hearts being animated around you as you watched on, worried but falling deeply in love.

❥ You know very well that he can protect himself but your love for him encouraged you to protect him at all costs, especially when you saw him in such a vulnerable state. He was never like that so you swore to yourself that you had to get stronger so that he'd never have to be in such a state again.

❥ Not only that but you had to get stronger for yourself as well as Bakugou.

❥ You wanted to protect him but also be worthy enough to stand by his side.

❥ It became easier to train after having fallen for Katsuki, actually. Now that you had someone in mind to push you forward, someone to visualise being by your side through tough times the way he would be there for you as well, only helped you grow stronger and stronger.

❥ Over time, it became obvious to everyone, even Bakugou how deeply in love you were with him. Not a day goes by without you losing your focus during class only to stare at your ash-blonde classmate with animated hearts floating around your head and hearts in your eyes.

❥ Because of that, you found your grades slipping and even though you asked super nicely, even offering a shoulder massage, Bakugou refused to tutor you.

❥ "Now get out of my way heart eyes!" he snapped at you as he shoved you to the side

❥ "But darling~" you whined, "how can I ever hope to become the perfect wife for you if I don't have a good enough education?"

❥ "HEY! Who said I would ever be marrying you?! And Stop Calling Me That!"

❥ "Oh! Would you prefer 'honey', instead? Or 'sweetheart'? Or 'love of my life'?" by now he was a blushing mess but he still had a snarl on his face. The pink in his cheeks was a win for you though so even if he continued to refuse, you wouldn't mind.

❥ "I don't prefer any of those shit names! Now Leave Me Alone!"

❥ "Fine," you grumble with a whimper and he almost felt guilty at the sad look that crossed your delicate features, "I'll just ask Midoriya-kun for help instead-"

❥ "My room! Bring your shit! 6 pm! Don't be late!"

❥ "Oh Darling~ I knew you wouldn't say no to me~"

❥ It was amusing really, to everyone except you and Bakugou, to see your interactions with each other. You were too in love to notice anyone's teasing whilst Bakugou kept being pushed over the edge by his supposed 'friends'.

❥ "Friends my ass," he grumbled as they whispered behind him about how hilarious it was to watch you pinning for him.

❥ It wasn't funny! It was serious! You were serious about him and he knows it, you said it yourself.

❥ "Stop overdoing it dumbass," he glares down at your exhausted, panting form. It seems as though you were doing extra training atop his tutoring sessions.

❥ "but..." you looked up at him with a tired smile, "I can't be the perfect wife until I'm strong enough to stand beside you..."

❥ He didn't know what to say except for, "I'd rather have a wife that can cook and have good grades at school than a dead one from fatigue," he helps you up and takes you back to the dorms. He didn't know why the hell he said that but you didn't say anything so he assumed you just didn't hear him in your worn state.

❥ After that day, however, you insisted on cooking every day and finally got your grades up. You almost beat him in scores, actually. It was surprising but it proved how serious you were about your love for him. He almost became soft for you.

❥ "Stop doing so much heart eyes," he growled as he saw you making breakfast in the early morning.

❥ "But I need to become a good wife for you, Darling~" you chirped happily as you poured him some apple juice, "and to do that I have to be a good cook - just like you said!"

❥ "Tch! How are you so sure you'll stay interested? You'll find someone else eventually," Bakugou always saying nonsense thoughtlessly whenever he was around you and it was beginning to get on his nerves. He didn't care about this shit, so why in the hell was he saying it to you?

❥ "Nonsense," you huffed adorably, hands on your waist as you turned to him with a frown after lowering the heat on your heart-shaped cinnamon pancakes, "you're the love of my life, there's no one else on this earth that I would ever want except you Katsuki," you flashed him a close-eyed smile, "You're my one and only, Darling~"

❥ He begins to shout out of habit before turning away so you don't see his blush, "Shut up with that bullshit! Your dumb pancakes are gonna burn!" you didn't see his face did you?

❥  In your perspective, you still had a long way to go before you could ever reach Bakugou's standards and finally stand by his side when in actuality you had unknowingly made him want to stand beside you by just being yourself.

s h o t o  t o d o r o k i

❥ it happened when you saw him smiling for the first time...

❥ The moment you first met Todoroki, you were determined to make him your friend.

❥ No matter how many times he had pushed you away, you were never deterred, in fact, it only fueled your determination in befriending him.

❥ It hurt you to see someone so closed off and without a clue as to how amazing it felt to feel loved and return that love, whether it be romantic or platonic.

❥ You wanted Todoroki to feel that beautiful feeling as well.

❥ All your life, you always had a very loving home with many younger siblings that you adore taking care of. Despite the occasional tantrums that they would act out, they were still the sweetest kids in your eyes and you would do anything for them

❥ Obviously, growing up in such a warm environment made you a very compassionate and empathetic person, even your quirk stemmed off of that which proved to be an advantage in your journey to becoming a hero

❥ The more emotional you were - regardless of if you were extremely happy or angry - that became your source of power in battles, meaning that the things you animated became all the more powerful on the field. The more you wanted to save someone from evil, the stronger you were.

❥ That was the obvious advantage but...that wasn't the case for when you wanted to be subtle about feeling intense emotions like...

❥ falling in love

❥ You didn't expect it with Todoroki, however.

❥ At the end of the day, he was your dear friend through and through. It took a lot of hard work and persistence for him to finally put his trust in you and return your friendship

❥ You didn't want to sabotage all that hard work. He was just beginning to reciprocate your friendly gestures, gestures that you would almost cry over each time because it felt like such a big step for him.

❥ It made you feel such pride when you saw him lose the cold look in his eyes and finally relax when talking with others and engaging in friendly activities

❥ Admittedly, Todoroki was still blunt and clueless to some things but he had all the time in the world to work on that. Having already taken the first step himself, the momentum for his exploration in emotions and opening up to others had begun and you're sure everything will just fall into place after that.

❥ Of course, he still needed some assistance so you had been helping him understand certain emotions and why people would feel a certain way under different circumstances.

❥ It was honestly the cutest thing and you were beyond happy to help satiate his curious mind on various topics he never had a straight answer for.

❥ EXCEPT for studies...he was better than you in that regard most definitely- yep! He's the one that needs to help you if that were the case.

❥ "I don't understand how you could get such a simple question wrong, (Y/N)..." he mused, genuinely dumbfounded at how horribly you failed at answering the practice question.

❥ "Please just help me, Todoroki-kun," you whined, flushing in shame at how horrible you were at English.

❥ "I apologise," he gives a soft bow of his head as you smile and wave off his apology before... "but I really am curious, even a little bit concerned for you,"

❥ "Just help me!"

❥ Not only did you need help in studies, you needed help with hero training. So you trained together. The two of you were dedicated students and always provided great input on ways of improving technique and approaches towards attacks. You made a perfect oblivious pair.

❥ The time your feelings decided to show was when the two of you had just finished sparing and it had been your turn to pay for an icy treat as a reward for such hard work. After making a short stop at the convenience store, you were now on your way back to the dorms happily chatting with ice creams in hand.

❥ "Is it weird to want to become closer to someone..." Todoroki stares at his icicle curiously, "someone that's close to you and is always there for you?" he feels a warmth in his cheeks that he's always having to suppress around you, it was never easy but he always succeeded.

❥ All he had to do was just think about you being in danger and being unable to help. That set his flustered state back to normal right away despite the sinking feeling he felt in his heart.

❥ "It's normal to feel that way," you assure, taking another taste of your ice cream, "there's no shame in that and it's definitely not weird,"

❥ "Oh," you flash him another reassuring glance as his lips tug up into a soft smile, "I'm glad,"

❥ That was when it happened.

❥ The setting sun had framed his smiling figure with a soft glow and you were instantly the victim of his content disposition. You knew he was handsome but...he looked all the more ethereal when he was smiling - smiling in the sunlight.

❥ The glow made his hair look like freshly fallen snow beside polished rubies as his eyes, one grey and one a paralysing blue captured the twinkling essence of the sunshine perfectly. His chiseled jaw cast a shadow across his neck, further defining his proportioned features as his angular nose gave him the desired picture-perfect side profile.

❥ If he didn't resemble the embodiment of perfection then and there, you don't know what did.

❥ As you stood dumbfounded, Todoroki had turned around, having walked several steps ahead of you and was stunned into his own silence.

❥ There you stood, a meter or so behind him with animated red hearts floating around your head, your stare was fixed solely on him as you let your coned ice cream gradually melt under the heated gaze of the sun; it's stickiness attempting to glue your fingers together.

❥ This wasn't the first time he had seen your animate quirk illustrate your emotions. He remembers you explaining that whenever you felt a strong emotion, whether it be happy or sad, you would lose control of your quirk and it would animate whatever it was that you were feeling.

❥ One time, you had ranked really low on an English test and a raincloud animated itself above you before it proceeded to soak you in rain. That day he had let you borrow his blazer to avoid Mineta's perverted staring and offered his tutelage on the subject.

❥ This is new. He wonders what strong emotion you were feeling. Hearts...what did hearts represent? Love...right?

❥ He looks around before his eyes landed on your icecream. Did you love your ice cream so much that you didn't want to eat it and just let it melt in your hand? He frowns. No, that can't be it.

❥ Could it be him?

❥ "(Y/N)..."

❥ if only he smiled more...-no!

❥"(Y/N)?"

❥ That would mean more people would see his soft handsome features and you can't have that! You are the first person he showed that side of himself to so you should be the only one allowed to ever witness it again-right? Or is that too selfish-?

❥ "(Y/N)?!" thankfully, Todoroki was able to successfully snap you out of your daze.

❥ "O-Oh! Sorry Todoroki-kun," you blushed in apology, looking to the side in embarrassment, only to squeal in shock horror when you notice the hearts floating around you. Shouting nonsense in between constant 'I'm sorry's, you waved the hearts away, "I-I'm really truly s-sor-"

❥ If it weren't for Todoroki taking your free hand in his own and tugging you back along the way to the dorms once more, you would have uttered your hundredth apology but, instead, you were left a stuttering and blushing mess, your animated hearts making their comeback floating around your head.

❥ As soon as you're right next to him, he lets go of your hand and pulls you closer by the waist. By now the hearts have begun to float around him and, although you were embarrassed beyond belief with your gaze fixed to the floor, Todoroki smiled even wider before leaning down to gently kiss your temple

❥ "Now, I know you weren't lying to me," this caught your attention albeit you were still a flustered mess of a person, "this feeling is so normal the other person feels the same way too, right?"

❥ You didn't know how to respond to that. Smile or faint from too much blood rushing to your head?

❥ How about both?

n a v i . | bnha mlist

#bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha imagine #mha x reader #mha imagine

[royadventures]

april 1st, 2022--4:42pm and just remembered it's april fool's

previous log

i left off on march 27th. that day, T and i both felt sick during the day. later, i realized i just had a headache because i was thirsty. nonetheless, we went to the sameE café ^-^

we first took a look at the md floor (merch floor) downstairs. they had a whole treasure section! a ton of treasure stuff left from the DO TREASURE exhibit that i couldn't go to 'cause i don't have my arc ;-; (alien registration card aka id card for foreigners).

we had our drinks upstairs. the yg café is very white and futuristic while remaining simple--it isn't super colourful/full of stuff. there is a huge screen playing snippets of yg mvs, a balcony where you can sit outside, and also a window facing the yg building if you want to look out while eating.

p.s.! it's a card-only spot! no cash!!

the creme brulee donut was so good :") althp the mocha i got was not very to my liking.

T was really not feeling well so we headed home, but i remember not feeling so well, either. not physically, but mentally. i think i had reached my breaking point after my friend wasn't texting me back.

it got so bad to a point where i was genuinely holding in tears on the subway home.

there was a Jonghyun birthday ad in hyehwa station (which took me by surprise because there aren't really ever any kpop ads in the station nearest us). seeing him and his song, i'm sorry, coming on shuffle made the tears very risky of overflowing. so, T and i only had time to quickly rush in and out of daiso, buy covid tests (just in case!) and get some food for T.

Jonghyun is a reminder for me that loneliness is temporary, that i'm not alone, for reasons i won't explain here. seeing him when i felt so lonely truly sent me over the edge. he came to me when i needed him the most :")

at home, i cried it out, took a covid test (negative!!) and ate some food. i spent most of the night in my room, just relaxing and recovering.

quite frankly, i don't remember what happened on the 28th. i usually take photos so i can remember what to write here, but i genuinely can't recall. i know i did my 9am class online that day, just in case, but felt better and went to campus for my other classes. then, i returned home and had another simple day?

march the 29th, i went to the yg cafe again by myself after class. i felt as though i wasn't able to enjoy it to the fullest when i went with T, so i went alone this time! i felr super happy to be going. i stayed there for 3 hours, studying in the balcony. the weather was so nice!! the pistachio butter donut and choco latte that i got were also heaven.

it was less busy there than when i went with T, so i enjoyed it a lot before returning home. i think on this day, i made a late-night (9:30pm T.T) run to the nearby 7eleven to buy jjapaghetti :P it hit the spot!

march 30th was Eunwoo day. T had tested negative for covid 4 times and felt it was safe to go to class, so after class, we went to hongdae to scope out some cupsleeve events. they were cute but supee pricey for the limited freebies... prolly cause it's Eunwoo T.T

(photos will be posted separately b/c i'm at photo limit again!)

we (T) were starving, but all the food around us was super pricey. still, we settled on chicken (₩20,000 per person T.T) and ate to our heart's content! it was pretty damn good... worth the price i guess? it was a more high end, classy spot, so maybe that's why it cost so much.

we then returned home and rested up!.. only after having bingsu :D we tried the chocolate cookie oreo monster... or something and were disappointed. it was choco powder, oreo and whipped cream. not good.

here's my bingsu ranking so far, best to worst:

matcha

strawberry

mango

tiramisu

oreo monster

march 31st, yesterday, T and i went to hongdae (again TT) to see a pomeranian café she's been wanting to go to. it was hella sketch, not even a café 'cause the drink system was weird (you order on a screen and can't even see how/where it's made), it smelled bad and the building looked run-down. waste of ₩12,000, but the dogs were cute, i guess. super, super, super sketch tho.

then, we went to a harry potter café (T kinda day! she likes harry potter). it was 4 floors and very dim, full of random paintings of old european people, super pricey, but oh well! the harry potter soundtrack was on loop, one of the floors was full of couples cause beds were used instead of tables/chairs, and idk...

we then ate at ichimen which was a highlight for me!!! 8,000 won for some yummy ramen, rice, and side dishes of your choice (kimchi or pickled radish). if you don't know, it's a spot famous for eating alone when you're on work break. you can open up a wal between you and who's next to you, sit at a counter, eat up, and leave. there's one menu and you just choose the level of spice.

we headed home after that :>

i'm sorry if this has been rushed so far ! maybe i'll come back and edit? probably not T.T i just wanna leave this café so bad but wasn't letting myself 'till i was done writing, heh.

i've been solo today but have had fun! i'll write about it later~ also, ptg is tomorrow!!!!

next log

#in korea #royart gallery #royalog #01.04.22

[fumiko-matsubara]

June 22, 2014 ー 13:41

Characters: Chiba Ryuunosuke, Yamazaki Jenny, Nakamura Rio, and Maehara Hiroto

Word Count: 2.3k words

Author's Note: I've just been wanting to write anything about these particular four lol

"What are you two doing here?"

Nakamura and Maehara purposely avoided Miki's intense stare as she interrogated them.

"I was just getting something to eat but then I saw you two across the street..." Nakamura answered innocently before finally letting herself meet Miki's gaze. "So I just thought of saying hi... didn't expect to bump with this guy though," she pointed a thumb towards Maehara.

Verbally unresponsive, Miki blankly stared back for a few seconds, seemingly taking in Nakamura's answer, before moving her gaze towards Maehara's instead and raised an eyebrow, prompting him to speak up.

Maehara immediately looked sideways, avoiding her gaze once again. "Well, you told me last week that I should cancel my date with Remi-chan and that's what I did so now I have nothing to do-"

"Bullshit," Miki cut him off, clearly not amused. "That was last month, you bastard."

Nakamura lightly scoffed at that.

"I uhh..." Maehara trailed off, his gaze darting everywhere until they landed into Miki's hair. "Your hair!" He cracked a tight grin, obviously trying to change the topic. "It looks cute today!"

"I know," Miki answered dryly. Her hair is currently tied into loose twin dutch braids. "I see myself in the mirror everyday."

"Nevermind that, there's something I wanted to ask you," Nakamura butted in, "who's that guy? He looks familiar." She gestured towards the person standing next to Miki, who had worn his bucket hat down to his face, making it almost impossible to make out his appearance.

The said person let out a deep, seemingly annoyed, sigh at the question. "You can't even recognize me and yet you decided to follow us for almost thirty minutes straight?" He breathed out.

Nakamura immediately recognized that voice. "Chiba-kun?!" She exclaimed.

"Wait, Chiba?" Maehara took a step closer towards the guy to get a closer look at him.

Chiba clicked his tongue in irritation, pulling down his bucket even further while turning his head away. "Yeah, it's me."

Maehara stood almost awkwardly by the aisle as he watched the other three go over some make up products and try them out.

...or rather it was Miki trying out the products onto Chiba while Nakamura was going through the shelves.

After their mini confrontation by the street, Miki soon had told them that she was out with Chiba to shop for make up products to use for his future stages.

"The red palette was getting kinda boring lately so I thought of experimenting with colours on him and see what fits him the best," she explained to them earlier.

Maehara admitted that, aside from what he saw or heard from his older sisters, he doesn't know that much about make up since he was more of a skincare kind of guy.

Almost 30 minutes have passed ever since Miki and Chiba settled themselves at the testing corner of the aisle, and Maehara felt like he should entertain himself with the skincare section of the store instead of awkwardly waiting for them to finish.

As he was about to excuse himself, he saw Nakamura suddenly approaching him.

"Hey, so I just saw this tint right here," Nakamura held up a product in warm pink colour in a shape of some plastic tube Maehara can't make out of, "and I thought it would look good with your skin tone."

Maehara blinked in confusion. "But I don't really wear make up though-"

"Relax~ The colour's not that pigmented and it won't even feel like you have something on your lips at all!" Nakamura breezily reassured while opening the tube's lid.

Maehara quickly stiffened when Nakamura suddenly grabbed his chin. "Now stay still," she ordered.

"Hey this is kinda..."

"Don't get any weird thoughts here, Maehara-kun~" Nakamura quickly cut him off without missing a beat.

Meanwhile, Miki slowly leaned backwards to examine her work so far. "Oooh the warm purple is kinda sexy with the faint gold!"

"Oh! That does look nice on him, miss!" A nearby clerk praised when she took a closer look.

"Right?!" Miki grinned before turning back to Chiba. "You holding up there?"

"This is nothing," he shrugged. "Though I have to be honest, I'm slowly starting to get embarrassed with all these people around..." 

Miki smiled reassuringly at him in response, gently brushing away loose strands of hair from his face. "Well, at least people here hardly recognize you. So perhaps that helps a little, right?"

"Yeah, it does..." Chiba softly replied, his gaze following Miki's fingers as she went through the lip products she has scavenged so far. "What happened last week at class was borderline torture."

Miki stiffened at his remark, clearly remembering the exhaustingly chaotic events that had occurred in less than an hour that day. "Aha..."

Chiba just rolled his eyes at her lack of response. "Say, can you hand me a smaller mirror? I want to take a closer look on what you've worked on so far while you keep looking for uhh... whatever you're looking for, I guess."

"Here," Miki handed him her own compact mirror, before returning her focus to finding the right colour for him. "Ohh this is nice!" She barely heard him say.

"Umm miss?" Miki approached the clerk who had praised her earlier. "If you don't mind, I was wondering if you could help me with selecting the right lip colour that would go well with his eyeshadow?" 

She then laughed sheepishly afterwards. "I'm not too well-versed with things like colour theory, you see..."

"No worries, I would love to help!" The clerk smiled brightly at her in return. "Just let me take a closer look again so I can help you find the right fit!"

"Oh that kinda looks sexy, don't you think?" Maehara commented as he and Nakamura watched Miki do her work.

"That's what I thought..." Miki almost whispered, carefully applying the chosen colour onto Chiba's lips.

"Must be nice," Nakamura suddenly blurted out after quietly watching for a while. 

"Which is...?"

"Working on those kinds of lips," she answered.

Miki hummed in agreement, now blending out the pigment with a small brush. "I find it easier to apply technique if your workspace is wide enough."

"No wonder I struggled with this guy..." Nakamura let out a disappointed sigh, barely gesturing towards Maehara. "There's barely any space to work on with how small his lips actually are."

Miki nearly choked at the revelation. "Wait, they are?" Failing to suppress an amused grin, she turned to look at a now annoyed Maehara to see it for herself.

"Oh, the colour's nice. Good choice," she first complemented, taking note of how well the faint coral tint goes with Maehara's warm skin tone and brown hair. "You did a great job applying it, Rio. It doesn't even look like he's wearing anything on his lips."

"Ahee~" Nakamura grinned widely at the. compliment.

Miki cracked a smile. "But yeah, somehow it made it obvious how small his lips actually are," chuckling, she turned back to Chiba and continued her work. "Even I just noticed it."

"I don't know how I am supposed to feel right now..."

Nakamura nudged Maehara with a cheeky grin. "Hey, at least she basically said the colour looks good on you~"

"I would honestly be more convinced if she wasn't still mad at me..." Maehara sighed in disappointment.

"If only you never lied to me~" Miki hummed, not even once looking at him.

Maehara groaned in response. "C'mon Miki, that was way back in April. Can't you just drop it?"

"I think we're done here!" Miki suddenly announced, standing up straight after minutes of leaning. 

Maehara sighed again, not surprised that she was purposely ignoring him. He's more than aware that last month's discourse with Kaho truly had him lose Miki's trust. He just didn't think that she was the type to hold grudges for this long.

"I don't know about you, but I think it'd better if you just stop bringing it up to her every other day?" Nakamura said in a low voice, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Like no offense, Maehara-kun, but if I we're in Miki's position right now I'd be annoyed too."

"Rio, can you help me put back the testing palettes to their shelves?" Miki called out now from the other end of the aisle.

Sending Maehara one last look, Nakamura walked towards the taller blonde. "Sure~"

Maehara was then once again back to awkwardly standing by the shelves. However, it didn't take too long for them to return the testing products to their respective shelves.

"Say, Ryuu. You want me to remove all that now or are you planning to just leave it on?" Miki called out despite her hands currently full.

Chiba was examining Miki's work through the long mirror on top of the shelves. "Hmm I think I'll just leave it on and take it off myself once I get home," he answered, running his hands through his hair. "The shadow work is not heavy enough to look weird to wear in public.... thankfully."

"Yeah it doesn't look like you're wearing much," Nakamura commented, walking away from the counter near the aisle and towards him. 

Most of the heavy shadow work Miki had done were on Chiba's lower lids and on the outer corner of his eyes. Hence why, unlike earlier when he had them half-closed, which made them look more obvious, they were barely noticeable now that he was looking ahead.

"Kinda looks like you're just wearing eyeliner with some colour here and there," Nakamura added with a slight grin. "You look good though, by the way."

"Thanks," Chiba replied almost shyly, though his following smile was making it more prominent. "My stage makeup is much heavier than this, especially the shadow work. Miki tends to go all out around my lower lashes especially..." He explained to them briefly, though more to Maehara since the guy looked kind of lost for a moment.

Maehara nodded in understanding. "Ahh that explains why it doesn't feel the same as last week's..."

Chiba hummed in reply, proceeding to mess with his hair again. "It's getting hotter outside but I can't leave my hair loose like this. I don't have anything to have it up," he briefly gathered his hair again, as if he was planning to tie it into a ponytail, but soon let go of it. 

"...can't even wear it down with all the makeup now," he sighed, brushing it again with his fingers.

"Just tolerate the heat and make do with the bucket hat," Nakamura suggested, handing Chiba his white bucket hat which now that he thought about it, he had no idea how she even got a hold of it in the first place.

Maehara watched as Chiba brushed all of his hair backwards before putting on the hat. "Hey, don't pull it too down."

"Nah I'll look weird otherwise."

Maehara raised an eyebrow at his response. "What are you talking about? I'm pretty good-looking myself-"

Nakamura let out a gagging noise.

"but even I can- Will you stop that?!" Maehara hissed at Nakamura, who only stuck her tongue out to him in response.

Taking off the bucket hat, Chiba approached the counter where Miki was still waiting in line. "Miki, do you have anything with you?" He asked rather tiredly. "Hair tie, clip, a beanie, or just anything I can use?"

"Let me check," Miki quickly went through her tote bag. "Ah I have my beanie, though it's those bigger types..." She brought out a red beanie and handed it to him.

Chiba happily took it from her hands. "Oh I have one like this in blue, thanks!" 

He went back to where Maehara and Nakamura stood and immediately wore the beanie. Tucking the rest of his hair behind his ears, Chiba looked at the mirror in mild satisfaction. "Hmm yep I guess that does it."

"Cute," Nakamura cheekily commented, thus ruining Chiba's composure as he broke into a shy smile.

"Be quiet," he muttered, turning his head away from the now grinning duo.

"Is it even fine for you to be seen with us on a Sunday afternoon?" Maehara suddenly brought up when they left the store.

"I think it's fine," Nakamura answered before Chiba even opened his mouth. "We took pictures last week and I posted some of mine on twitter too. So, it shouldn't be surprising to people that 'Lead Guitarist-kun' is hanging out with people his age on a weekend."

Miki hummed in agreement. "He's just a rather popular member of a local band in this town," she then scoffed, "not a damn celebrity for him to be not seen in public."

"That's true but I'm talking about us being class E students," Maehara turned to Chiba. "Since the reason why you even hid this whole band thing from us was so that people won't find out that you're a class E student technically participating in club activities," he elaborated.

Chiba nodded in confirmation. "You're right. But as they said, it's fine."

They all came to a stop before the pedestrian lane, waiting for the stoplight to turn green.

"We're not wearing our uniforms, so it'll be hard for people to even recognize you guys as students from class E.... let alone wonder why I'm hanging out with you," he reassured with a small smile.

"Exactly," Miki agreed before wincing when the sunlight suddenly came back. "Anyways, you guys got any place y'all want to go to? I don't like the sun..."

Maehara scoffed at her last remark. "Are you a vampire or something? Anyways, I want to go-"

"If you say Marui, I will deck you."

"Come on now. I didn't even say anything!"

"That place is on the other side of the town, you dumbass, and I'm about to die here."

"A little sunlight won't kill you!"

Nakamura just watched the two continuously bicker and turned to Chiba with a grin. "There's a cafe nearby just across the lane. Wanna go there and get some of their iced offers?"

"That works," he replied with a fairly amused smile.

#I actually don't know where I'm going with this one lol #but I'm not too mad hehe #yes I managed to name all 5 of my kids in a very short one shot #life is good #assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #assassination classroom oc #ansatsu kyoushitsu oc #target on #chiba ryuunosuke #yamazaki jenny #nakamura rio #maehara hiroto #my writing #target on moments #current timeline

[ibijau]

Hi! I just read Worst Engagement AU fic where nhs and lxc found out about the failed test. Brutal on the emotions, I cried at "I'm not stupid." XD I wanted to ask about your mentions of Jin Zixuan. Will NHS and NZX end up dating, despite their engagements?

Worst engagement AU

calling it dating would be pushing it, and JZX is no longer engaged by the time anything happens, but... they briefly end up in a ‘friends with benefits’ situation, mostly out of curiosity

warning for infidelity (nhs IS still engaged) and mentions of underage sexuality (it cuts before they do anything)

Jin Zixuan is lying on his bed reading for tomorrow's lesson, while Nie Huaisang sits with his back against the side of that same bed, vaguely trying to compose a poem. All in all, Jin Zixuan is looking just as bored as Nie Huaisang feels, yet still stubbornly trying to study. It’s almost enough to make Nie Huaisang regret that this is where he chose to spend the afternoon. But Jiang Cheng said he was going to the practice field and he gets so damn serious about that, nothing can get to him. Jin Zixuan is overall a little less fun, but a lot easier to distract.

So Nie Huaisang decides to do just that.

"Have you ever kissed someone?" 

It gets Jin Zixuan's attention alright. He startles and nearly drops his book.

"I was engaged until recently," he points out haughtily, his cheeks colouring.

"So what? I'm engaged, and I've kissed plenty of people, none of whom are Lan Xichen. It's fun. I can show you if you want."

Jin Zixuan startles at the offer and glares at him. 

"I don't like boys."

"Really? Not even a little?" 

"Of course not! There are no cut-sleeves in Lanling Jin." 

"That's so weird," Nie Huaisang comments, puzzled by the idea. “For real? I thought everyone liked everything. I mean, not always everything as much, but still a bit of everything. But you don’t?”

Jin Zixuan huffs in a way that tries to convey that he thinks Nie Huaisang is an idiot, and that he doesn’t know why he bothers spending time with him. As if anyone else wants to be his friend. Still, it’s so weird. Nie Huaisang struggles to wrap his mind around the idea of being that picky. Sure people have preferences, he gets that, but it’s really odd to him. He can’t imagine what that’s like.

Besides, he’s always half assumed that the reason Jin Zixuan was so annoyed by his engagement was because it was with the wrong Jiang sibling, or because he had a thing for Wei Wuxian since he kept trying to start fights with him.

It’s weird.

But that doesn’t change the fact that Nie Huaisang is horribly bored.

“You can pretend I'm a girl,” he generously offers. “I'll let my hair down, even."

"Why do you care so much?" 

Nie Huaisang snorts. Clearly that’s proof that Jin Zixian has never kissed anyone, or he wouldn’t be asking something so stupid.

"Lan Xichen caught me with another boy,” he explains, “and the word got passed around, so the Lans won't fool around with me anymore, and I don’t trust anyone else to do it and keep it secret. It’s a damn bother. Lan Xichen isn’t ever going to kiss me, so why does it matter if I have a little fun? I’m discrete and all, I know I can’t risk our reputations." 

Jin Zixuan considers that for a moment, his face colouring some more. 

"Is it really that nice, kissing?" 

"Getting curious?" Nie Huaisang taunts.

Again, Jin Zixuan huffs, but that’s not a no, and he even sits up, looking at Nie Huaisang as if trying to decide if he should get angry or roll with this new bad idea.

"I won't tell if you don't tell," Nie Huaisang promises, figuring that’s important to point out. They’ve both have as much to lose if this becomes known, which is exactly what makes it kind of safe if they kiss each other.

That's all Jin Zuxian needed, apparently. He nods and slides from the bed to kneel next to Nie Huaisang who grins. Suddenly, the afternoon isn’t so boring anymore.

"So, do I let my hair down or…" 

"Like this is fine," Jin Zixuan cuts him, leaning toward him. Nie Huaisang meets him halfway. He almost wants to laugh at how tense the other boy is, but with Jin Zixuan's personality that would just ruin everything. He eventually relaxes anyway, and it's not a bad kiss. 

In fact it's good enough that without needing to say a word, they quickly kiss a second time, and then a third, until they get too breathless to continue.

"So, more fun than studying or not?" Nie Huaisang teases.

Jin Zixuan rolls his eyes. 

"It's okay. And I see what you mean, it's really not something you'd do with a person like Lan Xichen." 

"Right? I'm probably going to die a virgin if I wait for him," Nie Huaisang whines. "It's a waste of me being this pretty." 

He expects a laugh or a mean comment about vanity, especially coming from mister Number Three, but it doesn't happen. Instead, Jin Zixuan gives a long, measuring look. 

"Do you want to try that as well?" he asks, his face so red his vermillion mark almost disappears. 

"What, for real?" Nie Huaisang gasps.

It's not that he hasn't thought of finding someone to try that with. Damn, he's done the math and already concluded that Jin Zixuan would be the safest person to mess around with like that, but he's also kind of assumed that, well, Jin Zixuan wouldn't be interested. But then again, last time he gave the idea some serious consideration, Jin Zixuan was still engaged to Jiang Yanli. With this obstacle gone...

"It's that or studying," Jin Zixuan mutters in a spectacular display of bad faith. After all, there's plenty they could do even without returning to their books. If nothing else, they could easily just keep kissing until they get bored of that too or until the dinner bell rings. 

But if there's one important lesson Nie Huaisang has learned these past few months, it's that it pays to be bold and take any chance offered. 

What's his choice anyway? He can't wait to return to Qinghe because he's too well known there, it's too risky. Lan Xichen has been trying to be nicer but Nie Huaisang is not stupid enough to think that stuck up Lan will ever want to have fun with him. Nie Huaisang has copied the rules of Gusu Lan often enough that he knows them as well as their best disciples, and so he knows their stance on intimacy as well. It’s not forbidden, but must be done to have a child (impossible) or to improve cultivation (boring, he’s seen the diagrams, and anyway Lan Xichen’s cultivation is already perfect).

This is Nie Huaisang’s best chance of ever knowing the touch of another person.

“Fine, I guess I’m bored enough,” he sighs. “Do you know how to go about it?”

“Not really. My mother didn’t want me to know too much.”

“Fair enough. Well, I know a bit, from books. It can’t be that difficult, anyway.”

Jin Zixuan looks relieved to hear that, which in turns makes Nie Huaisang a little more nervous but… well, if sex were complicated, people wouldn’t bother with it, he tells himself.

And if he messes this up, it’s not like anyone’s ever going to know.

#xisang #nie huaisang #jin zixuan #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #worst engagement au #spoilers: nhs ends up spilling the beans to lxc to piss him off #but in fairness jzx will probably also tell yanli once their engagement gets going again because he is Honest TM #madwriter223

[nicka-nell]

I'm Kiyoomi Sakusa and I'm a germaphobe - Chapter 32: A new heart beats

Words: 1.698 Warning: angst, mention of blood, manga spoiler

Chapter 31 -  The beginning of the picture book     | Masterlist

(y/n) = your name | (l/n) = last name | (e/c) = eye colour | (h/c) = hair colour

“(y/n)!” he screams and runs quickly towards his love. Full of fear, he holds her in his arms and feels the blood on his hands as he holds her to the waist. “A doctor! We need a doctor!” he shouts as loudly as he can and presses (y/n) firmly, with tears in his eyes in his arms. Only now does he see a man with a gun and shaky hands standing in front of him, who is pushed to the ground by several passers-by. “This is how it feels to lose a loved one! She killed my wife and left my son and me behind!” The man roars with a furious voice. This is the husband of her first deceased patient... But he doesn’t waste another second on this man. Because he looks down at his wife, crying. “(y/n)...” There’s a dull, sad voice in her ears. It’s the one from Kiyoomi. She wants to open her eyes, move her mouth and tell him everything will be fine. But she won’t make it. She feels his warm body on hers. He warms her, because she is getting colder and colder. Her fingertips begin to tingle, and she notices how a numbness prevents her from reaching for Kiyoomis hand. She’s so cold... She’s tired... and she’s having a hard time breathing. “(y/n) my love... Open your eyes, please. Stay with me! Stay with us!” she hears the sobbing voice of her husband. Kiyoomi... Wakami, who heard the shot, comes out of the hospital with Kaede at a fast pace and runs towards Kiyoomi and (y/n). When Kaede sees his sister and all the blood on the floor, he gets sick. But he pulls himself together and wants to treat her as quickly as possible in order to save her and with good luck also the baby. “Kiyoomi! Give me (y/n) quickly! I have to get her into surgery!” Kaede calls to him and bends down to Kiyoomi. He takes (y/n) from his hands and promises to save them both. Quickly he rushes back to the hospital with Wakami and only Kiyoomi, mourning on the ground, remains. The man who shot (y/n) is still being held on the ground by the people and is being taken away by the police after only a short time. Kiyoomi, who remains on the spot for more than half an hour, now stands up to pick up the photos that (y/n) has dropped and put it in his pocket. If she hadn’t come here today... None of this would have happened. With shaky legs he goes to the hospital. He doesn’t care if he gets sick, he just wants to feel his beloved wife and their child in his arms. He would accept any virus, any disease. He just wants his family and future back. In front of the operating rooms, he sits down on a chair and looks down on his cell phone. On the phone is a photo of him and (y/n) cutting the first piece of the wedding cake together. Tears flow down his cheeks at the thought that he might never see her smile like that again. “(y/n) please... Kaede... Please don’t let her die...” He sobs bitterly and beats his cell phone against his forehead. The memory of the pregnancy comes to him. . “I’m home again!” In the evening, Kiyoomi calls into the house while he takes off his shoes and goes into the living room. But there’s no one in the living room. “I’m in the kitchen!” (y/n)’s warm voice sounds and Kiyoomi follows her voice with a smile. She’s about to cut the vegetables for a vegetable pan. “Hello my princess.” He greets her affectionately as he hugs her from behind and gives her a kiss on the hairline. “You’re home early today. Don’t you do extra training?” She asks a little surprised, otherwise he comes from training only after eight o'clock. “Our coach has his wedding day today and therefore finished the training earlier. Does it bother you that I’m here? Should I go again?” he asks quietly and distributes several kisses on her cheek. “No, I’m glad you’re here. Can you maybe take out the garbage and put some cutlery and dishes on the table? After all, I’m almost done with the vegetable pan and then we can eat right away.”, “Of course.” , he answers her quickly and gives her one last kiss on the cheek before he sets the table and ties up the garbage and takes it outside. But just before he throws the garbage into the trash can, a small object catches his eye. First Kiyoomi thinks (y/n) threw away a thermometer. But when you look closer, it’s something completely different that’s in the trash can. “Is this a pregnancy test?” he mumbles to himself. Still in disbelief, he opens the garbage bag and takes out the little test. Anyway he definitely has to wash his hands later. Clearing his throat he looks at the small plastic part. His hands are shaking and his pulse is up. Nervousness is strangely spreading in him. Two strips... “Great... What do two stripes mean...? Twins? Not pregnant? Pregnant?” he mumbles to himself again. He quickly throws away the garbage and goes into the house with the test. (y/n) has already put the food on the table and is just getting a bottle of water from the kitchen when she looks at Kiyoomi with two big question marks in his eyes. “Kiyoomi? Is everything all right?” she asks him concerned. “What... What does that mean?” The words come out of him quietly. “Kiyoomi... where... ah... this was supposed to be a surprise today...” she replied sulking. “This is a pregnancy test...” she continues. “I can see that myself. But what does that mean? Are we going to be parents? Are you... Are you really pregnant?” he still asks her in disbelief. Only a few months ago they had talked about how nice it would be if they had children. He was aware that his training and membership in the Japanese national team would not always allow him to be there, even if he would no longer play as a regular player. But he still wanted to be as good as possible for his wife and children. Experience their first words, first steps, first teeth and much more. He wanted to be there. To be a good father. And he was sure that with (y/n) at his side, he would definitely be a good father. That despite his absence, which would certainly come, they would make a wonderful family. Nodding, (y/n) looks at him. “Yeah... I... I’ve run several tests. They were all positive. We are going to have a baby.” She answers him joyfully but also somewhat unsettled. A baby... They’re actually having a baby... “(y/n)... we’re having a baby! We... We’re going to be parents... “ He mumbles joyfully to himself and does not notice how tears of joy come out of him and look down the path along his cheeks. (y/n) just wants to take a step on him but Kiyoomi is faster. Full of anticipation, he takes (y/n) firmly in his arms and starts to cry. “Kiyoomi... I can’t breathe.” He hears her voice, because her head is on his upper body. Apologetically, he leaves her alone and still looks at her stunned. “Do you want to be with the ultrasound next week? I had put it on your day off so that you can decide whether you want to come along or n-” She doesn’t manage to finish her sentence, because Kiyoomi interrupts her immediately. “Yes! Yes, I want to be there.” He answers her enthusiastically and takes her hands in his. He lovingly lifts her up to give her a few kisses. “We’re having a baby.” he whispers over and over again. “Come on, let’s eat first. Otherwise, the food will get cold. After that, we can talk about everything.” (y/n) chuckles joyfully and gives Kiyoomi a loving kiss. The day before the ultrasound, Kiyoomi couldn’t sleep at all. He was way too nervous. He moved back and forth in bed all the time and when they were finally there and the gynecologist started the examination, he ran up and down in the room completely nervous. “My good Sir... Please relax a bit. Sit next to your wife. Take a look at the monitor.” The doctor tries to calm him down. Even (y/n) tries to get him down somehow, but he’s just too nervous. “Yes... yes, yes.” he answers hastily and sits down like a clumsy toddler on the chair next to the lounger. But when he then looks at the monitor and for the first time hears the beating heart of their child and also sees how it moves, every nervousness falls away from him. Unconsciously, he reaches for (y/n)’s hand and presses it firmly, while he cannot let his eyes off the monitor. With the pressure on her hand, she looks down at Kiyoomi and puts her free hand on his. Through the touch, he leaves the monitor and looks at (y/n). “There... There’s our baby. Do you hear the heartbeats? It... It’s all real. That is really true. We are having a baby.” Loaded with joy, his eyes are filled with tears. He never thought he could ever become so emotional. He doesn’t usually cry. But now he can’t hold back his tears. Warmly he tilts his head down and looks at (y/n)’s belly. “I will protect you and Mom with everything I have. You two are my world. My queen and my princess or my prince.” He whispers to the belly and presses (y/n)’s hand firmly. - “Kiyoomi!” the voice of Osamu and those of his teammates gets him out of his thoughts.

Chapter 33 - When everything breaks, I believe in you.

Taglist: @kara-grayson04​ @suna-allie​ @pleasemelafook-outta-ere​

#32/34 #50k story #kiyoomi #sakusa #kiyoomi sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #omi-omi #omi-kun #yoomi #haikyu #haikyuu #haikyuu! #haikyu x #kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #fluff #a bit angst #grown up characters #manga spoiler #haikyu spoiler #nelas story #just an idea

[imagine-mr-markus]

Birthday Candles

I had to write sumn for my fave Dad on his birthday, but i got a teeeensy bit distracted watching Hellbenders so its a leedol late, sorry! But yes, here we have some tasty tasty fluff of my boys in honour of The Birthday. And not an all an apology for the fact that the next two I’m working on are just Angst of my Cyberlife Boys, absolutely not

Hank Anderson, at the ripe age of 53 and 364 days, fucking hated birthdays. Hated the smell of cake and frosting and the cheerful wishes of others. What he hated most about them, however, was the birthday candles. The smell of them, the sight of them, even the fucking mention of them was enough to sour his mood beyond recognition, no matter how good it had been before. It hadn't always been like that; in fact, it had only been like that for two years and three hundred and twenty-nine days. Twenty-five thousand, four hundred and sixteen hours. One million, five hundred and twenty-four thousand, nine hundred and sixty seconds. The calculations flash irritatingly behind his eyes like they always have, and he shakes his head as his mood dips. He knows exactly why he hates those brightly coloured little sticks of wax so vehemently.

 They'd been Cole’s favourite.

 It had been a kinda stupid tradition his own mother had started when he was a kid to wake him up at exactly midnight on his birthday with a cake. There would always be another cake later, one for the party and the guests, but at midnight, when the world was quiet and the lights were out, it was just for the two of them to sit and eat a slice after he'd eagerly blown out the candles. Melissa had thought it was the cutest shit to grace this earth and had insisted on carrying on the tradition after they started dating, and he could easily admit that it was appreciated. It'd been part of what kept them together in the long stretch of time when they'd nearly fallen apart after pregnancy test after pregnancy test came back negative. But no matter how bad the fight, every birthday was ushered in with birthday candles and cake at midnight. It had only gotten better after Cole was born, the joy of the new baby and their much firmer foundation on marriage making for a much more relaxed morning. As soon as Cole had seen birthday candles, he’d been enraptured in the way only a child could be, and the new tradition that Cole always helped blow out the candles was born. For a solid portion of his life, Hank’s favourite smell in the world was the smell of the sweet smoke from the vibrant little pillars of wax.

 But not anymore. Not for one thousand and fifty-nine days.

 In the time Connor had been living with him, two hundred and ninety-eight days, his brain helpfully supplies, he's gotten much better at dealing with problems without the use of alcohol. In fact, he hasn't had anything stronger than a beer in months. But tonight, tonight the bar looks more tempting than he'd ever care to admit. He tilts his head slightly as he eyes his keys, fingers itching to make a break for it before Connor gets home. He could do it. Could grab his keys and be out the door. Connor would be disappointed, but he'd understand. Connor was good like that. He could-

The sound of the door startles him out of his reverie, the excited tapping of big paws on the floor following soon after.

 “We're home!”

 Hank turns away from his keys abruptly, mustering a smile as he looks towards the Android stood in the doorway.

 “Hey, Connor. How was your walk?”

 The kid offers him a smile before he bends to undo Sumo’s leash.

 “It was good! It's getting chilly out, but the leaves are starting to change! I like the orange ones best.”

 Some of Hank’s misery eases at Connor’s easy enthusiasm, and his smile is more genuine.

 “That's good. I like the orange ones too.”

 He pauses a moment to gather himself, mentally flipping the bird at his cravings for booze before continuing.

 “So, whaddaya want for dinner?”

 Connor doesn't need to eat, but after the revolution Kamski whipped up some fancy ass robotics that allows him to if he wants. It's nice to sit and eat with somebody again, even if the kid is way too addicted to coffee now that he can taste it. Connor tilts his head as he moves towards the kitchen, an easy grin pulling at his mouth.

 “Can we get Chinese?”

 Hank shakes his head fondly at the kid. Another one of his favourites was Chinese takeaway, and they'd eaten it with fair regularity. Although, Hank is kinda grateful. The kid’s been trying to learn to cook, but his skills aren't…. incredibly tasty as he insists on doing it ‘the human way’. The familiarity of it all helps ease the weight on his lungs, helps pull some of the itch from his fingertips.

 “Yeah, Con. We can get Chinese.”

  _____________________________________________

 “Hank, wake up!”

 His eyes snap open at the sound of Connor’s voice, hand going for his gun as he searches for what made the kid wake him.

 “What is it? What's wrong?”

 “Nothing. Happy birthday!”

 He looks at Connor properly, taking in the sight of the kid grinning at him excitedly from beside his bed. He's dressed in Hank’s old clothes, a hoodie too big even for him swallowing the Android whole and pair of ratty flannel pants from Hank’s much younger days hanging off his frame. He's got flour down his front and a streak of bright blue frosting on his forehead, LED shining a bright, contented blue at his temple as his eyes sparkle with excitement in a warm, flickering light. And before he even looks down at what he's holding, Hank knows it's cake adorned with candles. He can smell it, the sugary sweetness clinging to the back of his throat and the scent of melting wax in his nose. A sharp pang of something ugly strikes at his chest, a deep hurt pulsing behind his ribs and a flare of an irrational fury between his lungs. He can feel his face twist with it, and he sees Connor’s expression fall as his LED spins yellow.

 “Did…. did I do something wrong? I thought this is what family did on birthdays.”

 The kid looks heartbroken at the thought that he fucked up, doe eyes falling to look at the cake as his mouth turns down like he's about to cry. The expression pulls at that softness in him he had kept buried for so long, the gentle instinct to comfort and console. It was an instinct he'd always had; part of the reason people had been surprised he'd taken the promotions from beat cop upwards when he was one of the few cops who could handle kids well. It was where he'd gotten the idea for kids of his own, and that feeling had only grown exponentially once he did have a kid. Melissa had been a great mother, but it had always been Hank who would roll out of bed whenever Cole cried in the night, and Cole had very clearly been Daddy’s Boy. Melissa used to joke that if they ever had another she had dibs, but the fact remains that Hank has always been better with kids because he's a fucking bleeding heart who can never turn down a crying child. And he may logically know that Connor is not a child, but that doesn't change the fact that with his lower lip stuck out slightly and his big brown eyes ready to fill with tears at any moment and drowning in clothes too big for him, he sure as hell looks like a little boy that's been scolded. And that sets off that tender heart of his hard enough he grimaces before what Melissa used to call the “Dad Spirit” switches on. His tone gentles out of reflex, and he adjusts himself on the bed to sit up properly as he sighs slightly. He softens his shoulders, looking at Connor earnestly with forgiveness and apology in his gaze.

 “No, Connor, you didn't do anything wrong. I was upset, but not at you, alright?”

 Connor blinks up at him hopefully.

 “Really?”

 Hank can't help the little curl of his mouth at Connor’s question, nodding a little. He's bracing himself for what comes next, but for just a second, it's alright.

 “Really, kid. Now c’mere, lemme see it.”

 As quick as it had gone, that unbridled excitement is shining out of the kid’s every goddamn pore as he eagerly presents the cake. Finally, Hank forced himself to look at it, and he nearly loses his goddamn mind right then and there. It's ugly, there's no getting around it, but endearingly so in that way that screams of love poured into the batter. The cake is uneven and lopsided, and smothered liberally in baby blue frosting. There are candles neatly sunk into it, and Hank knows without a doubt there are fifty-four of them arranged precisely in concentric circles. And there, in the middle, spelled out in neat lettering that he can recognise as Connor’s own personal font (though the frosting is wobbly and has been badly fixed) are the words “Happy Birthday, Dad!”. A shaky smiley face has been added beneath, and its obscenely cute. There's suddenly something in Hank’s throat. Connor has never called him Dad before, and it makes his own mouth wobble treacherously. He coughs a little before speaking, ignoring how thick his voice is.

 “You make this yourself? I thought you didn't have any cooking protocols.”

 Connor looks almost ridiculously proud of himself as he nods excitedly

 “I did! I was tempted to download necessary coding, but I wanted to do it like a human, so I followed the recipe in the cookbook above the refrigerator! This one was labelled as your favourite!”

 His mother’s cookbook. He hadn't touched it in years, and the only time Melissa had ever gone near it was for that specific recipe. The last time he'd used it, he'd been making Cole’s cake. Connor had found it, he'd made him his mother’s birthday cake, and Hank isn't crying, he isn't goddamnit-

 “Hank? Are you alright?”

 He clears his throat again and scrubs a hand over his face to wipe away any damning evidence.

 “Yeah, Con. I'm alright, just got something in my eyes. C’mon, the candles are starting to drip onto the cake.”

 He crosses his legs so there's room on the bed, and Connor moves easily to perch in front of him. It takes a second of him considering his own legs with a yellow LED before he crosses them like Hank’s, a pleased little grin turning his mouth. You wouldn't know it if you only saw him at work, but the kid was gangly and faintly awkward when it came to anything related to sitting. It had taken months for Hank to break his habit of sitting ramrod straight with his knees together and hands on his thighs. Now the kid would sprawl all over the couch, but he was still like a pubescent boy learning how to use his own limbs and how to arrange them, almost like a fawn learning to walk. It shouldn't have been as adorable as it was, but Hank has given up on trying to deny how fond he is of the kid. He shakes his head as Connor sets the cake down on the bedspread, and he stares at the cake for a long moment with a strange mixture of joy and grief and fondness and sadness in his chest like a bruise. He lets out a slow breath and looks up at Connor with a smile.

 “Well? Are you gonna sing to me or not?”

 Connor brightens and nods, but a brief show of yellow spins at his temple before he turns his head.

 “Sumo! Come here!”

 There’s a quiet boof from the living room before big paws thud towards the room, and the shaggy dog trots into the room to sit beside Connor expectantly. The kid gives the dog a fond pat before turning back towards Hank. His smile widens as he takes a deep breath, something he doesn't technically need, before he starts to sing, and Sumo awoos quietly with him in an odd harmony.

 “Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday dear da-ad

Happy birthday to you!”

 Ok, Hank is crying. He’ll admit it. It's one thing to see it written out in the cake, it's another to actually hear Connor call him Dad. And while it's not a surprise, he's thought of Connor as family for a while now, it brings a painful lump to his throat and a feeling filling his chest to hear someone refer to him as Dad and mean it. It's a feeling he hasn't had in one thousand and sixty days, and he had missed it dearly. He scrubs at his eyes again, sniffling a little.

 “C'mere, kid. Help me blow out the candles.”

 Connor gives him a brilliant grin and scrambles to sit next to him, carefully manoeuvring around the cake. He picks it up to settle it on their knees, Hank’s right knee supporting the left side of the plate and Connor’s left supporting the right.

 “Ready, kid?”

 “Ready, dad!”

 That feeling clogs his throat again for a second before he offers Connor a nod. He bends closer to the cake, and Connor follows suit as they inhale. He blows out a good chunk of them, and Connor catches the rest with ease before laughing a little. It's not exactly a new sound, but Hank feels downright fucking blessed to hear it if he's honest with himself. Connor doesn't laugh too often, not outside the house, and it still feels special to hear the kid be so human. He's still fucking crying, but they’re good tears. Cathartic is the word, he thinks. A fork is offered to him, and he takes it gratefully. The hurt weighing on him hasn't gone away, he doesn’t think it ever will, but it's shifted, moved some, become lighter, and he rolls his shoulders back slightly as he sits up a little straighter. He's moving to take a bit of the cake when Connor gasps beside him, and he turns with a raised eyebrow.

 “What is it?”

 “I almost forgot!”

 The kid plunges his hand into his pocket, pulling out a very familiar, very worn old Polaroid camera. Hank blinks at it, taken aback. He hadn't known he'd still had that around the house.

 “The fuck you find that thing?”

 Connor beams at him.

 “In the boxes in the garage, along with the photo albums! They were shoved in the back, but I found them while I was cleaning over the summer. It's where I got the idea to make you cake!”

 There's that funny rolling in his stomach again, like overwhelming happiness and sadness mixing like oil and water in a shaking bottle. But it's… it's good. Like the tears. Cathartic. He nods, gesturing with the fork.

 “Alright, well let's get this show on the road. I wanna eat my cake.”

 Connor laughs again, and Hank grins at him as he slings his own arm over the kid’s shoulder to bring him closer as he raised the camera.

 “Sumo! Come get in the photo!”

 The dog bounds easily up onto the bed, big head bumping at Connor’s forehead as he sniffles at the frosting there. Hank chuckles and shakes his head as he looks at the camera, making sure the text on the cake is visible as Connor presses the button. The flash is temporarily blinding, but he blinks it away as the camera spits out the sheet of thick film. Hank doesn't shake it like his mother used to, he knows better than that. He wants this one pristine if he can help it, especially because he's going to want copies of this shit. Eventually, maybe soon, maybe not, he'll stick it in the photo albums Connor found. The ones he hasn't had the guts to look at for years. But maybe…. maybe with Connor sitting next to him, he can focus on the good times as he tells him the stories about the photos. The kid is still pressed firmly into his side from Hank’s arm around his shoulders, and it's a good feeling, to sit beside someone. No, not just someone. His son. He knows Cole is never coming back, his little boy is gone, but maybe someday he'll see him again. And with any luck, he'll get to introduce him to his older brother.  Well, younger brother? It's a comforting, if slightly confusing thought, and Hank grins as he transfers his fork to his other hand so he can keep Connor close while he digs into his birthday cake. The photo develops a little while later, and Hank loves it. You can see that he's been crying, but his smile is easy, and Connor has his nose scrunched up as Sumo licks his forehead, and the cake looks even uglier in the flash from the camera and it's absolutely perfect. He’s gonna need a copy for his wallet AND his desk, goddamnit, and he might even feel brave enough to put one of his pictures of Cole beside it. It's only right that both of his boys be present, really.

 The smell of sweet candle smoke is heavy in the air, and he breathes it in. He can see Cole as he was the last time they celebrated together, green eyes sparkling and one of his front teeth missing from his broad smile as he shouted in the dark.

 “Happy birthday, dad!”

 Connor’s voice comes from beside him, and he turns to look at the kid as he smiles.

 “Happy birthday, dad.”

 He leans against Connor slightly, squeezing him gently.

 “Thanks, son. I'm glad you decided to celebrate with me.”

 And he means it.

 ___________________________________________________

 At the age of fifty-four years and one hour, Hank Anderson loves birthdays. He loves the birthday cake that's lopsided and the too thick layer of frosting and the cheerful wishes of the Android beside him. And most of all, he loves his favourite scent in the world.

 Birthday candles.

#Happy Birthday Hank you grimy bitch!!! ily #DBH #dbh hank #hank anderson #dbh connor #dbh Sumo

[funtimebunnyblog]

Diamante d’Italia: Chapter 4

(Chapter 4: Pleasant company)

Josuke leaned back in his chair, sipping quietly on his French Vanilla coffee. It was a little sweeter than he was used to but it was undeniable that they made it with REAL Vanilla bean, not just cheep flavoring. The coffee was undeniably strong too, so rich he could feel a buzz in his finger tips.

It was undoubtedly one of the best cups of coffee he had ever had.

However that meant trouble for him because if this was anything like Okuyasu and him discovering Italian Food, he was going to have to ask his Mom for a Coffee bean grinder for Christmas this year and a book on how to brew fresh Coffee.

Comfortable silence had reigned between him, Leone and each of their stands (who surprisingly hadn't vanished again).

In fact, if he had been just another kid on the streets of Italy, the man would've probably already proposed to him joining Passione and being recruited onto their team. Bucciarati was always saying it would be nice to find another member or two.

Abbacchio found himself enjoying the plesant company and peaceful quiet just as much as Josuke was, taking the time to mull everything over as he sipped his tea.

Josuke was a decent kid and Abbacchio was typically quite cold and judgmental when it came down to things meeting and trusting new people (you couldn't blame him really, he was in the Mafia afterall), so thinking Josuke a decent kid was quite a feat for just meeting him.

He would never forgive himself if he ripped all that hope away from the teenager like it had been ripped away from him.

However, Abbacchio knew better. This kid was still a student, a tourist even, he probably had a bright future in over Japan.

He had been like him once. Young, eager, full of potiential... those things were rare in the world nowadays and they certainly didn't last in the Mafia.

What was it that stands talked about anyways?

Josuke kept his eyes on Moody Blues (he couldn't get over how cool they were), still hovering nearby and holding some kind of inter-stand conversation with Crazy Diamond from across the table.

Both of their unblinking gazes were locked tightly onto one another, neither one moving or making a sound.

Did they talk about their users? Their powers? Other stands? Did they spill secrets and gossip?

Abbacchio watched idly with some interest, he had seen his stand doing the same with Sticky Fingers several times.

Whatever was happening in the communication, they both seemed pretty invested.

Moody Blues hovered next to Abbacchio with their hands folded neatly behind their back and their head craned forward. Crazy Diamond stood directly behind Josuke, their elbows rested on the back of his chair and leaning comfortably on it.

Though the quiet was comfortable, Josuke wasn't one to sit in silence so he found himself breaking it.

"Your stand," he began. "how long have you had them? Since Childhood?"

He could only reveal so much of course...

The question was unexpected but not unwelcome, Leone hummed and set down his teacup, pursing his lips as he focused on his reply.

Josuke was curious, and that didn't bother him, but the matters of his stand could be a touchy subject.

"Nah, I'm not a natural." He replied. "Mine was awoken in a fight."

Josuke stiffened somewhat in his chair, setting his mug down with a light clink, a small frown pulling on his lips. "In a fight?"

Abbacchio wasn't a natural stand-user and that intrigued the teenager, by the way he handled Moody Blues so well he would've guessed otherwise... but this info also frightened him.

Sure, he knew some stands could be awakened by certain events in someones life, even something like strong overwhelming feelings could cause a stand to spawn into existence, but there was definitely something about the way Abbacchio said it that made the familiar feeling from earlier come back.

This time, the feeling was unwanted.

Leone nodded, "I was.... grabbed and pierced by a powerful stand. When I finally come to afterwards 'Blues was right next to me."

Josukes throat felt way too dry all of a sudden and his heartbeat was growing more deafening in his ears by the second.

The deliciously rich French Vanilla he had been savoring suddenly turned to water in the teens mouth.

A powerful stand? Pierced? As in.... an Arrow wielding stand?

Flashes of everything between the last few months moved like pictures within his mind and he unconconciously started to grip his knees tightly, unaware of the instantaneous sweat now beading on his face as his heart and mind raced.

Did Abbacchio even know about that kind of stand? The power it possessed? The damage it could do?

Did he know the danger he could be in? More importantly, the danger of Italy itself?

If there really was a stand wielding an arrow, there could be a much worse repeat of what happened back in Morioh here in Naples.

If Kira had been just the teeniest bit stronger than he was, maybe even just a little more careful, Josuke knew he very well wouldn't be sitting here in Italy a month later.

Josuke and his friends had only gotten lucky in the end, a sheer coincidence ending it all for good, nothing more.

He more than any of his friends knew that if it ever happened again, they might not have that luck on their side.

His stomach lurched as there came the memory of disgusting coppery blood in his nose and the sound of a head being squashed accompanied by screams and the beeping of an Ambulance.

The older man across the table frowned deeply, furrowing his brow. The kid suddenly looked like he was going to be sick all over the place. He didn't miss how Crazy Diamonds coral colour eyes turned downwards to its user and the air about the stand turned a little more serious.

Something was definitely off.

Abbacchio couldn't shake the nagging feeling that Josuke knew something. Something bad. And he had a hunch what it was about.

Josuke knew more about stands than he had bargained. But the question was, how did he know?

He opened his mouth to ask if he needed some water or maybe just a breather outside in the fresh air because Josuke had turned a ghostly pale, verging on green even, but was suddenly cut off.

"Leone?"

The new voice speaking was enough to pull Josuke from the numbing static of his thoughts and he blinked himself back to reality, looking towards the archway leading to their private area.

Abbacchio turned, a small smile pulling on his lavender lips as his momentary worry was forgotten. He hadn't expected Bruno to come to dinner so soon but it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise.

'He has hair like your Mother...' came the telepathic whisper from Crazy Diamond, who sounded somewhat amused by it all.

Standing in the archway was a tall, lean man with the deepest bluest eyes Josuke had ever seen, dressed in a fashionable (but no doubt expensive) looking white suit dotted with reverse black teardrops and an open chest, revealing lacy black patterns underneath.

The most notable thing about him however was the giant golden zippers adorning the coat that dangled and jangled as he moved.

If Josuke hadn't just been about to lose his lunch, he would've been blushing red and probably would've punched the cheeky pink and blue stand in the arm.

Not that it would do much but give him a pain in his own arm anyways... so he simply just willed Crazy Diamond to disappear, ignoring the chuckle ringing throughout his head as he did.

Now Josuke felt his face heat up, burning red as if a fire had been set under him, when the pair closed even more distance between them in a quick peck on the lips.

Leone stood up from his chair, going to greet the other man at the doorway.

"Bruno." He said simply, closing the distance between him and the other man in a sort of halfway embrace.

Oh... this was Abbacchios partner.

It wasn't that this new info bothered Josuke, he actually found it a little endearing, it was just that he hardly knew them and felt like he was intruding on something intimate. Like he had just disrupted a date they were having.

Plus, he didn't really take Abbacchio for the type to be in a relationship at all. The man had such a "lone wolf" attitude.

'You know what happens when you ASSUME, Josuke...' His Moms words rang clear in his head suddenly and he almost rolled his eyes remembering the end of that particular lecture.

He also thoroughly enjoyed seeing the other man blush at the time, even through all the foundation on his cheeks.

Bucciarati smiled dotingly at Abbacchio, he didn't miss how the Goth was wearing the lipstick he had picked out for him.

Normally the man wore the blackest shade of lipstick you could find on the shelves but Bruno presented him with the beautiful violet one the other day, telling him it would match the lovely purple in his eyes.

"I didn't think I'd see you here so early."

The white-haired man chuckled, "I could say the same about you. We've been here for a while actually."

Abbacchio returned the look with a roll of his duel-coloured eyes.

Bruno peered past him to the table, blinking in surprise when he saw someone he didn't know seated there (who was still somewhat averting his gaze), before breaking into a soft smile.

His eyes turned back to his partner for a fraction of a second, raising an eyebrow at him, a look that read "Since when did you start picking up strays?".

They would talk about it more later, nothing needed to be said between them to know that it would be.

"Hello there." He began. "I must admit, didn't expect any company for dinner. Leone tends to like his alone time."

Bruno approached the table, taking the chair directly next to Leone, seating himself with a smile that made Josuke feel warm from the inside out.

This man was like warm sunshine on a rolling sea while Abbacchio was like moonlight on a snowy mountain.

Well, he supposed being mugged right beforehand would do that too.

Josuke found himself smiling, holding back a laugh as he watched the Goth seated next to Bruno shoot a weak glare in his direction.

He felt himself relax again as the man tested the waters with him. This man was admittedly much easier to read than Abbacchio and he didn't fear being pounded into the floor for making a joke this time around.

"Heh. Sorry, I guess I kinda followed him here like a stray cat." He laughed a little, giving a joking shrug before extending his hand to shake. "I'm Josuke. Josuke Higashikata. It's nice to meet you."

"Bruno Bucciarati. The pleasure is all mine." The dark haired man replied, clasping his hand.

He wondered if they were dicking around outside and silently prayed Narancia wasn't trying to do a headstand on the post box out there.... again.

"Where've Larry, Curly and Moe gone to?" Abbacchio questioned with a frown, peering out towards the dining room.

They were being too quiet and uncharacteristically hadn't come bursting through the door yet, two whining about being hungry and racing for a good seat at the table while one scoffed and growled for them to quit it.

"They decided they wanted to order some take-out tonight so they're back at the house watching movies." Bruno replied, barely batting an eye as his partner grunted out a sigh of relief.

The two missions today had gone successful to say the least (hence why he was early of course).

Josuke assumed whomever Abbacchio was asking about must've been the others he mentioned previously and settled for sitting quietly and watching the interaction between the pair.

Bruno had teamed up with Mista and Narancia with Fugo. Mista didn't even have to use the pistols this time, their target was easy and too piss drunk to put up a real fight. Almost sad if you asked them.

According to Fugo his mission with Narancia hadn't gone quite as smoothly as theirs had. Their targets had brought back up and tried to make a get away by splitting up in cars. Their tires were full of lead by the time Aerosmith got to them and so were their bodies in the end.

The way they talked so comfortably with one another, holding hands over the table so naturally, it made Josuke wonder how Koichi and Yukako were doing. Those two were really the only couple in his life.

Seeing these two so calm and collected but still have an undoubted twinkle of adoration for one another in their eyes was much better than that gross love. He found himself smiling again.

He had never really been in love before but he had always seen it to be sickeningly sweet when portrayed in those movies on tv, making him a little wary about experiencing it. Those endless scenes where couples would fawn over each other every two seconds and act all lovey dovey made him want to puke sometimes.

Not to mention how the girls from his class back in Japan would hang on his arm and follow him everywhere, gushing about how handsome he was and sometimes even go so far as to try to fight one another for his attention. It made him want to just tell them to bug off some days.

"Please tell me about yourself, Josuke." Bruno began, both mens attention rested solely on him now.

☆☆☆

Talking to Bucciarati was actually quite easy.

The dark-haired Man listened so well and his face itself radiated warmth as Josuke talked and talked, hanging on every word as if he were talking about the most interesting things in the world.

Josuke found these things quite mundane and not exciting in the least, he realized he really did live a plain old everyday life apart from being a stand-user and protector of his City (that was also not counting being friends with an actual Alien from outerspace).

Josuke wasn't quite sure where to begin at first, he didn't want to bore the man, so he started out by telling him he was a tourist from Japan.

Things unfolded from there and he moved into his life as a Highschool student in Morioh.

But Bruno listened, nodding his head, very interested in seemingly all of the mundanity.

He asked him his likes, his dislikes, about Morioh, his Home, his Education and any plans for the future furthering it and the more Josuke answered, the more he felt himself opening up and starting to tell him particular memories and moments with his friends and his Mom.

Bruno actually barked out a laugh when he recounted the story of how he made the mistake of giving Mikitaka a cup of coffee last month without thinking twice (leaving out the part he was an Alien of course) and that ended with him having to drag the buzzing blonde pointy-eared humanoid (whom he spent 2 hours trying to pry off his ceiling) home to his "Mother".

Abbacchio snorted when hearing the story about the time Okuyasu got stuck in a kiddie swing at the park, causing both the Police and Fire Department to have to come to the playground and cut him out of it.

He blamed Koichi for putting the idea in his head of course.

They talked for so long, Josuke didn't even remember how hungry he was (the cake from earlier was heavenly but it wasn't quite filling) until a particularly loud growl of his stomach interrupted him during his speech.

"My you're hungry!" Bruno laughed softly as Josuke felt his cheeks burning. He barely had time to blink before there was a waiter there at the table (a different one from before at that) and a menu being set in front of him.

'At least here I can choose what I want...' he thought to himself as his eyes focused on the ornate little booklet filled with long confusing Italian words in fancy handwritten font.

Oh...

Wait......

He had to choose what he wanted.

Once again, he felt like a Kindergartener helplessly squinting at a word longer than 4 letters being written on the blackboard.

He had no idea what any of it meant or what any of these dishes were.

He almost laughed thinking back to his first visit to Tonios little Trattoria with Okuyasu and how put out they were about him not using menus, opting to read palms to "order" instead.

That seemed like such a better option right now than letting his eyes burn holes into a book of nonsense words.

"Something the matter?" Abbacchio piped up, raising a well styled eyebrow at him. He had already discussed with the kid that money wasn't an issue, so that couldn't be the reason the kid looked so nervous.

Josuke bit his lip, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he looked up to meet the pairs puzzled gaze.

"Uhh... It's just that I... I can't..."

"Please." Josuke laughed a little, holding the menu out as the man scooted closer to him.

Bucciarati blinked, his eyebrows raising in realization from beneath his bangs.

"Oh, I see." He said. "Would you like some help?"

Patiently, he went through the entire thing with him, pointing to each dish and telling him what they consisted of. Josuke nodded and listened more intently than he ever did in class, trying his best to remember certain names.

"I think I'll have the... the..." Josuke helplessly pointed to the particular dish, his face tinging a little pink.

Bruno was so patient and calm Josuke wondered if this man actually could be a Mother.

He once again chose to ignore the chuckle ringing throughout his head.

"Saltimbocca di pollo alla Romana." Bruno supplied.

He didn't want to embarrass himself further by even attempting to parrot that back. Thankfully, Bucciarati did the talking when the waiter returned.

Josuke didn't have to wonder if this man was a stand-user because he felt that familiarity pull at him again, this time it comforted him, and Josuke found himself smiling.

The teenager had quite forgotten about arrow wielding stands, psycho murderers and blood baths among all the laughter and friendly conversation over the table...

#Diamante d'Italia #josuke higashitaka

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Eight // Wanda Maximoff

chapter seven | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter nine

author’s note: Y/C/N = your cousin’s name, also this is later than I wanted today but i’ve been super busy so sorry for that! Also, I’ll be responding to comments from the last one as soon as I’m free. Enjoy 😊

"...okay, so now use the water to dilute the colour."

I did as Wanda said, dipping my brush in the glass of water and diluting the watercolour I was using, but I must have used too much because it made the paint run and then the paper started to get too damp to hold together.

Wanda facepalmed, sighing as I smiled sheepishly.

"My bad...?"

She glared playfully before ripping a page from her sketchbook. "Try again, milaya (darling). And use less water this time."

I squinted in the sun as I glanced at her. "Can't you just accept I'm not very good at painting? Or art in general?"

She shook her head, taking the torn page from my grasp and replacing it with a new one. "No way. You're not getting out of it that easily. It's not hard, I promise!"

I groaned lightheartedly. "You said that about drawing. And about using acrylics. And about using chalk."

"And I'm saying it about this, now c'mon, try again," she encouraged with an amused smile before returning to her own painting.

We were sat in my garden, hanging out and making the most of the lovely day we were having. The Spring breeze was getting warmer as we transitioned into Summer and it was a nice change of pace from the usual bad weather we had. So nice that Wanda wanted to do some painting and also teach me how to. But art was never my strong suit and I'm sure she knew that but still proceeded to try anyway.

Sketching out the tree before us for the third time today, I attempted to provide an outline that I could eventually fill in with green watercolours. Unlike Wanda though, it wasn't fun. My eyes veered over to her and I smiled to myself as I admired the look of concentration on her face – her 'art' look, I dubbed it. It was this very specific expression she got whenever she worked on a painting or drawing, and it always reminded me of that first time I saw it, after we met in the stationary store and when she took me back to her room. Absolutely wonderful.

"I don't hear a pencil moving," she said, not looking up but beginning to smile.

"That's because I'm looking for... what did you call it?" I racked my brain, thinking back to the day in the store when she talked about inspiration. "Vdokhoventi?"

A sharp exhale escaped her lips as she finally lifted her gaze to meet mine. Attempting not to laugh, she tilted her head adorably. "Vdokhnoveniye."

I quirked a brow. "Is that not what I said?"

She giggled, shaking her head. "Definitely not."

I grinned, shrugging. "Well, that's what I meant."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm not it, so eyes on your page."

"Oh, how dearly mistaken you are, love," I said quietly, leaning close and giving her a knowing smile.

She looked up, expression softening with a smile. Her eyes were heavenly, pupils dilated as she squinted in the sun, and they flickered to my lips before she settled on nudging me in the shoulder slightly. I snickered, leaning my head on her shoulder since everybody thought we were as close as best friends, so it wouldn't look suspicious. She sighed contently, letting me watch as she moved her paintbrush, painting a flower that was peeking through the grass we were sat on.

I could have stayed there forever, in that moment, sitting with Wanda and watching her paint under the sun. But of course, all good things come to an end when you don't want them to.

"Y/N, dear," I heard my father call, and when I looked up, I saw him approaching Wanda and I from the direction of our house.

Straightening up, I watched as he attempted to sit on the grass, but his legs were too long and he struggled to cross them. With a hearty chuckle, he stretched them out, slightly bent, and leaned on his hands.

"I'm getting too old for this, ladies," he said humorously, making Wanda and I smile.

"What d'you need, dad?" I asked, raising my brows.

"I just wanted to check in and see if you were ready for tonight," he said casually, making me furrow my brows. He seemed to notice my confusion, prompting, "Tonight? Your cousin's birthday party?"

"My cousin's what-now?"

He sighed, massaging the point between his brows. "Y/C/N? They organised this months ago. We're all expected to be there." His glanced to Wanda. "You, too, dear."

Wanda hummed, pulling her gaze from her painting and looking to my dad. "Yes, I'm aware. Got my dress ready and everything."

My eyes snapped to Wanda's with surprise. "You knew about this?!"

"You should be more like her," my dad muttered, as Wanda smiled with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

I looked back to my father. "I was planning on helping Y/B/N with his manuscript tonight."

My dad waved his hand. "I've already talked to him. He's agreed to work on it before the party starts so you're both on time."

I groaned, already tired at the sound of yet another party. Did it ever end?

"Don't be late," he ordered, though his voice was anything but stern. Cue another groan. He smiled before looking to Wanda's painting. "Wow, that's great, dear. Apparently you've got Y/N here attempting to do the same?"

Wanda chuckled as she handed him my several failed attempts. "Key word being 'attempting'."

He accepted the pages and stifled a smile of amusement. "Wow... maybe you should stick to writing, Y/N."

I ripped the pages from his grasp. "Cheers, dad, really."

He laughed before leaning forward and kissing my forehead. "It's all in good faith, dear. Now remember. Don't be late tonight, okay?"

I sighed, which he took as my response, before pushing himself off the grass with a grumble. Dusting his trousers, he nodded to Wanda and I before leaving us be.

"You could've told me I had yet another party to attend tonight," I told Wanda with narrowed eyes.

She shrugged, smiling helplessly. "I thought you knew."

I laid back on the grass with a dramatic sigh. "I just don't understand why our life revolves around extravagant parties, balls and dinners."

"That's just how it is, moya lyubov' (my love)," she said with a warm smile.

I looked up at the sky, raising my hand to shield the sun from my eyes, though my heart fluttered at one of the many nicknames she called me in Russian. "I'd rather live in the middle of nowhere. Where nobody expects anything of me and there's no stupid parties to attend."

She rested a hand on my leg before laying beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder. I relaxed my head on hers, appreciating how well we fit together.

"Same here," she agreed, making me gasp playfully.

"What? Don't you love the glitz and glamour?"

She laughed quietly. "I do, but I like the peace and quiet more."

I breathed out, fingertips brushing hers. "Maybe I can be a little late tonight... accidentally run over time so I don't have to stay as long."

Her fingers tugged on mine between us as a warning. "No. I'll be left alone and I'll be bored. And when I'm bored, I drink."

It was my turn to laugh. "You won't be alone, Wanda. You'll have Pietro."

She shifted so she was no longer leaning on my shoulder but instead tilting her head to look my way. "I want you."

I turned my head and gave her a small, promising smile. "I'll try to be on time."

She quirked a brow. "Try? You will."

My eyes flittered away, ready to argue otherwise, but she sat up and grabbed her paintbrush. I sat up, too, ready to tell her I would try, but I flinched when she flicked water towards me from the tip of it.

"Are you serious?" I asked, wiping the water from my eyelids with tongue-in-cheek.

She chuckled and I grabbed my paintbrush and did the same, watching her squirm when it flicked on her face.

Suppressed smile on her face, she wiped away the water and glared with dazzling eyes. "You shouldn't start what you can't finish, milaya (darling)."

Smiling from ear to ear, I quirked a brow devilishly. "Oh?"

"You're so lucky we're in front of people," she said lowly, leaning close enough to be platonic, but her hand slipped under my dress and creeped up my leg, making me involuntarily shiver. "Or you would be in serious trouble."

I stopped her hand from going any higher, the rings on her fingers cold enough for me to not melt under her touch. "I highly doubt that, love."

She held my gaze, intoxicating and mesmerising all at once. A sly smile tugged at her lips as she said, "Don't test me then. You heard your father. Don't be late."

I exhaled, licking my lips. "Fine. I won't be."

—

Later that afternoon, I found myself sat in my brother's study as the two of us worked on his latest manuscript together. It was a love story, his (my) specialty, and I was helping him to sort out his sentence structure when he decided to question me.

"Will you entertain me for a moment?" he asked randomly, making me look up from the pages.

"I'll probably regret it, but go on," I said jokingly, before looking back down and adding some notes to the paper.

His chair creaked as he leaned back, eyes watching me thoughtfully. "Are you in a secret relationship?"

I almost choked on my spit as he asked this, heart dropping to my stomach with panic. He couldn't know about Wanda, right? We'd been so careful.

Thankfully, I played it off well as I merely glanced his way before distracting myself with note-taking.

"Why would you think that, Y/B/N?" I asked like he was insane.

He shrugged in my peripheral. "I don't know... I've been wondering for a while. You've just loosened up so much more. And you're not as uptight as you usually are."

"Cheers," I said sarcastically.

He leaned forward, head resting in his palm. "This all happened right about the time I met Wanda..."

I swallowed hard, quirking a brow at him to play down my panic.

"I saw you with Pietro the other week," he continued, and I could finally breathe when I realised what he was insinuating. "I'm happy if you're happy, Y/N, but I'm not a fan of you sleeping with my publisher."

At that thought, I shuddered and proceeded to shove Y/B/N on the arm. "Don't say that. And I would never."

Just your fiancé, I thought guiltily.

"Good," he said with relief, straightening up. "Because you're not supposed to do that until you get married."

I rolled my eyes dismissively in response, but wondered if that still applied in a world where one was not allowed to marry the person they loved.

Y/B/N gave me a reassuring glance. "Look, I'm okay with it, I guess. But I'd appreciate the heads up so I can give him a stern talking to."

Realising there was a hint of mirth in his voice, I looked up and gave him a warning look. "Don't you dare."

He laughed, patting me on the back, to which I shrugged off with annoyance.

"It's the Maximoff charm," he commented knowingly. "The twins have that effect on people, don't they? Wanda sure has it on me."

A short silence fell after he said that and I chewed on my lip curiously, unable to stop myself from speaking until it was too late.

"Is her love reciprocated?"

He looked down to me from his daydream, no doubt of Wanda. "Pardon?"

Knowing there was no backing down from the conversation now, I avoided his eyes. "The engagement between you both was arranged... you're clearly in love with her, but is it returned?"

His lips twitched into a frown. "I'd hope so."

I hummed, diverting my attention away from him and to the pen in my hand.

"Why? Did she say something?" he asked, voice laden with worry.

"Of course not," I reassured him.

"But you'd tell me if she did?" he asked eagerly.

I looked his way and saw him peering down at me, hanging onto my response. I nodded lamely, which seemed to put him at ease as he sank into his chair with relief.

We spent the next few hours working on the manuscript without a hitch, but I noticed the time and realised the party was already in full swing. Wanda's words came to mind and I hoped she wouldn't be too annoyed at my lateness.

"We're wrapping it up now, don't worry," Y/B/N said, noticing me check the clock. "Thanks for the help. I'm gonna get this to my editor tomorrow. Your amendments should help make the process go a lot smoothly."

I hummed in response, feeling a heaviness settle on my shoulders as he mentioned his editor. It was always the same routine – I helped him with his manuscript, he got it edited, got his book published and got all the credit. And I was stuck in the same position, wishing I could do the same.

"What is it?" he asked with a sigh, sensing my mood.

Playing with the corner of the manuscript, I met his gaze. "I help you with your writing, but I never get anything from it."

"You get to help me," he pointed out, not seeing the issue. "Isn't that enough?"

Pietro's offer came to mind as I said, "What if I wrote my own book? And got published with my name on the cover?"

He squinted as he studied me, trying to find the humour in my words. Letting out a laugh, he shook his head.

"Y/N, that's absurd."

I raised my eyebrows hopefully. "I mean, is it? Would that be so bad?"

He pressed his lips together and breathed out through his nose. Resting a hand on my shoulder, he gave me a condescending look.

"I'm saying this because I care," he said, making me feel like crap. "But yes."

As if I didn't already know the answer, I asked, "Why?"

He motioned with his hand like it was obvious. "Because. People would look at you differently. You'd be undesirable. You know men don't like smart women. I'm just looking out for you as your brother."

I looked away, the bitterness at his words stinging more than usual. "Well, I like smart women."

Thinking I was joking, he chuckled. "Don't go saying things like that. One might misinterpret."

My teeth pressed into my lower lip hard, trying to contain my frustration.

"You can do this every now and then," he said, referring to the manuscript, "but any more isn't possible. Besides, two authors in one family? That's insane."

I forced a smile, but I wondered if his last comment was the real reason he wouldn't let me at least try to get published.

"Anyway, never mind that," he said indifferently. "We should probably head out. Dad is not going to be pleased. Especially since I promised we wouldn't be late."

I nodded, sliding my chair out and wanting to be anywhere but here right now. "Yeah, come on."

He gave me a sneaky smile. "Can't wait to see Pietro?"

I slapped him on the arm before standing up, ignoring his laughter. Nothing to make an already-depressing night worse than going to a party you didn't care for.

—

Wanda Maximoff was a very difficult drunk to be around, I'd learnt that the hard way.

As soon as Y/B/N and I rolled up to my cousin's house, a third of the guests were drunk and the rest were tipsy. A typical Y/L/N get-together. Y/B/N was instantly dragged away by some family whilst I was quick to make myself scarce, attempting to find Wanda. But the place was bustling with people and there were way too many rooms to check.

I found Pietro before I found his twin, as he was poking around party favours on a table in the corner, attempting to make out what were in the bags.

I found Pietro before I found his twin, as he was poking around party favours on a table in the corner, attempting to make out what were in the bags.

"If you're expecting a brand new fountain pen, you won't find it in there," I teased, making him jump.

He sighed when he looked my way, realising it was me. "I know that. But there's nothing better here to do, so I may as well know what freebies we'll be getting by the end of it."

I smirked. "Anything good?"

He shrugged, seeming disappointed. "Just some chocolate and perfume samples."

Holding back a smile, I said, "How tragic."

"If you're looking for my sister, she's over there," he said, nodding behind me. "You'll love this one."

"What do you mean?" I asked, brows knitted with confusion, before turning around and following his gaze.

Wanda was indeed stood on the other side of the dining room and I could just about make her out between idle guests. She was chatting to some woman, hands moving erratically and with expression, a grin on her lips.

"What is she doing?" I asked unsurely, tearing my eyes from her and looking to Pietro.

He was withholding laughter as he answered, "Sometimes, dear Y/N, my beloved twin sister gets drunk when she's–"

"Bored," I finished, remembering what she told me this morning. My face dropped as I mumbled, "Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh indeed," Pietro said, grinning at his sister's dismay. "Drunk Wanda is a very truthful Wanda. So, any secrets of hers will most definitely be revealed tonight."

Pietro was too caught up in his own amusement to notice my eyes widening.

"One of our servants made me a platter a few years ago," Pietro explained, oblivious to my panic. "It was a delicious cheese platter, the cheese having been imported from France. Then, Wanda proceeded to eat it without telling me. When I asked if she did, she lied. And I only discovered she lied because she got drunk a few weeks later and bragged about how good the cheese was."

Continuing to ramble, though this time in Russian, Pietro complained about said incident, though I wasn't listening as I watched Wanda talk to the woman enthusiastically. I could only imagine what secrets she was sharing.

"Pietro!" I cut him off, earning his attention. "Shouldn't you do something? To stop Wanda?"

The cheese platter story long forgotten, his grin reappeared on his lips. "Nah, it's funny watching her make a fool of herself."

I gave him a look of disbelief before looking back to Wanda, who was laughing at something by herself. The woman she was speaking to seemed partially confused, but smiled to be polite. I gulped, before shaking my head.

"I'm not that mean," I said to Pietro before making a move to stop her.

Pietro booed me playfully, but I ignored him and approached the drunk brunette, managing to catch her conversation.

"–and they're usually such catty bitch–"

"Wanda!" I immediately cut her off, bumping into her side slightly to get her attention. "There you are!"

Green eyes widened with excitement as they met mine. "Y/N! You're here!"

Ignoring her, I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her close before looking to the guest she was talking with.

"My apologies for her behaviour," I said with an awkward smile, hoping Wanda hadn't revealed anything suspicious.

"No need to apologise, dear," the woman said with an amused smile. "Wanda here was telling me all about how lovely of a sister-in-law you are. Or will be."

Wanda grinned, looking to me and leaning in so close that her nose brushed my cheek. "Yeah, she is," she continued to the woman, though her eyes were on mine. "She's sweet, not like other people make out their sister-in-laws to be."

My face was warm as I cleared my throat and smiled once more to the woman. "If you'll excuse Wanda and I."

The woman barely got out a nod before I dragged Wanda away, trying to keep her lips away from my neck (she was also an extremely clingy drunk). Tugging her into the bathroom down the hall, I closed the door behind us and released a breath of relief, grateful for the escape from guests.

"You look very sexy when you're worried," Wanda complimented, stepping forward and smiling dazedly.

"Wanda–"

She placed her hand on my jaw, moving closer so that her lips were grazing mine as she mumbled, "You came late, milaya (darling). But I still love you."

I'd like to say that I had the willpower to push her away and scold her for acting so obvious about us before, but my lips went numb as she captured them between hers. I could taste the alcohol on her lips as she moved them against mine, making me dizzy and forgetting what I was going to say. Her thumb caressed my jaw and I relaxed under her touch, hands resting on her chest. When she tried to part my lips with her tongue, I seemed to come to my senses.

"Wanda, you're drunk," I muttered, pushing her back gently.

She chased down my mouth again, sucking on my lip and tilting my head back so she could have better access. I tried not to let her win as I kissed her briefly before pulling away. Clouded hazel eyes met mine with a matching smirk.

"You're such a tease," she whispered, her accent thicker than usual and making my stomach flip uncontrollably. Her thumb traced my lips as she continued, "You shouldn't do that when I already know how you taste, moya lyubov' (my love)."

The way she was staring at me made me flustered in place, and she seemed to notice her effect on me as she winked my way.

Shaking my head and trying not to let her win, I said, "Look, Wanda. I'm sorry for being late. But did you really have to get drunk?"

She shrugged, leaning her weight on my shoulder with her hand. "If you hadn't kept me waiting, then I wouldn't have."

I sighed, looking to her apologetically. "I didn't realise the time."

A permanent troublesome smile was fixed on her lips as she watched me.

"Your brother told me how you can be when you get drunk," I said with mild concern, hoping she'd register my seriousness. "You need to be careful, Wanda. We can't have people finding out about us."

"It seems to me," she began agonisingly slowly, lacing her arms around my shoulders, "that you'll have to watch me all night to make sure I don't do anything out of line."

Determined not to play into her teasing, I maintained her gaze with a stern stare. "It seems I'll have to."

She bit her lip, eyes flickering between mine, before leaning further into my ear. In a whispered voice, she said, "That means you can't leave my side, printsessa (princess)."

I clenched my jaw, ready to agree, but a gasp escaped my lips as hers sucked on my earlobe, teeth nibbling on the sensitive skin. Stupid Wanda and her stupid flirting and stupid attractiveness.

"Wanda!" I scolded, though my cheeks were flushed as I pushed her away gently.

She laughed adorably, the sound making my heart skip a beat. "What?"

"You have to behave," I told her, swallowing hard and trying not to let her teasing smile get to me. "You can't do this out there. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed in a way that wasn't reassuring in the slightest.

I rolled my eyes before grabbing her hand and leading her back outside the bathroom, returning to the party. I wasn't planning on leaving her side for the rest of the evening, even if Y/B/N wanted to be with her. The last thing I wanted was for her cute drunken self to reveal something she couldn't take back.

To my relief, she kind of behaved after that. There were times when she would get a little too touchy to be platonic, but a quick stare set her straight. Y/B/N wasn't around much, as when he did join us, he was immediately pulled away by some family friends who wanted to discuss his books. For once, I was glad he was an author, afraid of what would happen if Wanda got too comfortable in his presence.

At one point though, he was able to join Wanda, Pietro and I at a standing table, relief flooding his expression when nobody called after him. His arm wrapped around Wanda's waist and he kissed the top of her head, making me look the other way with distaste. She scrunched her nose up at the action before distracting herself with a drink. I gave her a knowing look, having told her earlier to stop with the alcohol. She pretended not to see me.

"Sorry I've not been able to spend time with you tonight," he said to Wanda, oblivious to her tipsy state.

"It's almost like it's your birthday and not your cousin's," Pietro joked, smiling at him.

My brother chuckled. "I guess. They just all wanna talk about my manuscript."

"Ah, yes, the reason you were late, right?" Wanda asked, eyes falling to mine.

"I'm sorry," my brother apologised, assuming it was him she was speaking to.

"You were helping him, too, right?" Pietro asked, looking to me curiously. "Maybe I'll finally get a glance at your work."

I narrowed my eyes at him, having figured he'd put the subject to rest after last time. He merely grinned in response, finding joy in messing with me, just like his sister. Before I could say anything, my brother beat me to it.

"Don't be getting any ideas. It's just a hobby." He smiled forcefully, before glancing at me. "Isn't it, Y/N?"

"Don't be getting any ideas. It's just a hobby." He smiled forcefully, before glancing at me. "Isn't it, Y/N?"

So he was jealous. Wow.

"You don't need to hide your relationship, y'know," he continued when I didn't respond, looking to Pietro.

The silver-haired publisher choked on his drink as he looked to my brother, clearly very amused.

"I know you're together," Y/B/N said with agitation. "Everybody does. And don't get me wrong, Pietro, I respect you as a publisher."

I groaned quietly, closing my eyes with embarrassment. When I opened them, Pietro was watching my brother with an entertained smile, meanwhile, Wanda was looking between them with a twitching frown.

"But if you're going to date my sister, you should do it the right way," my brother continued stupidly. "It's not appropriate to have whatever this is." He motioned between us with his hands. "It's wrong."

I jumped when Wanda's hand slipped to my arse, squeezing it gently. Thankfully, our backs were to a wall so nobody would have noticed behind us, but I instantly glared at her and removed her hand. She gave me a cunning smile, not bothered by the consequences.

"...and if you're sleeping together like I suspect," Y/B/N was saying, making me flush with humiliation, "know that our friendship is at breaking point. I can't have that blatant disrespect in my life."

Wanda continued to attempt to grab my arse, making me slap her hand away several times, all whilst trying to manage whatever conversation was happening right now.

"I can't believe you just said that," I finally spoke up, managing to keep Wanda at bay long enough. "You're such an idiot, Y/B/N! I told you I wasn't with Pietro!"

Pietro tried not to laugh as he met my brother's intimidating stare. "I value our friendship, too, Y/B/N. Which is why I can promise you I have no... relations... with your sister. I don't like her like that, I can assure you."

Wanda snorted with amusement, before hiding behind a glass of wine when everyone looked her way.

Y/B/N seemed embarrassed as he cleared his throat. "Oh."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, oh!"

"I guess I should apologise," he said awkwardly, looking to Pietro. "I–"

"No apology necessary," Pietro cut him off, raising a hand. "I am thankful for the entertainment however."

"I'm gonna go literally anywhere else," I dismissed myself, unable to take the uncomfortable situation any longer.

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and walked away. To my surprise, Wanda trailed after, falling into step with me.

I glanced at her unhappily, quirking a brow. "Can I help you?"

"Oh, don't be mad at me because your brother's an idiot," she said with a wag of her hand.

I gave her a suggestive look. "I told you to behave."

She pressed her lips together in a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry... Y/B/N was talking about you and Pietro and I– well, I don't like sharing, remember?"

The improper glint in her eye as she stopped before me, watching with amusement, made me feel warm all of a sudden. That day when she first told me that and we proceeded to make love flashed to mind, and she seemed to know as she had a mischievous look on her face.

Clearing my throat, I pointed a finger her way. "Behave."

I should have known by the devilish look in her eyes that she wouldn't.

#wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen imagine #marvel #mcu #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine

[niniandthenine]

No Attachments -Part 4-

Word count: 3,158

Pairing:  Potentials are Jongin x reader, Baekhyun x reader, Sehun x reader

Warning: This is a exo mafia au that many contain themes some find uncomfortable. events such as kidnapping, spiking, stockholm syndrome, objectification of a Minor (17) are within.

When the girl’s eyes fluttered open again, feeling as if only a second had passed being in Jongin’s arms, she was laid on to a soft mattress. Unable to bring her self to look around at the new area all she could manage to focus on were the warm arms pulling away from her. While trying to make a noise of protest the room began to spin, making the girl’s stomach churn and her eyes to involuntarily close.

 A silence filled the room when her eyes fell shut, sending little shivers down her arms and legs. The thought of being alone, even in the safety of the comfortable bed, nearly teared her eyes open. Instead a soft, almost hesitant mumble escaped her lips first. 

 "J...Jongin?" As the name left her lips a quick Hum from a short distance away came in reply. The girl relaxed slightly at the man's familiar voice, the small shivers slowly dissipating.

The relaxed flush that consumed her body only stayed for a minutes before a weight on the edge of the bed sprung her body into a light tense again.

 "You should be okay" jongin’s soft yet passive voice called from just above her before she felt the back his hand press lightly to her left cheek "the dizziness will pass if you sleep" 

 "Sleep..?" The girl mumbled back, a light scoff almost passing her lips in a huff "I’ve slept so much, I don't think I can" 

 An unexpected light chuckle of amusement caused the girl’s eyes to flutter open in surprise. A shade of pink dusted her cheeks at the dazzling smile she was greeted with. The sight seemed to be the only one that didn't make her head ache and spin. 

 "I guess you're right" Jongin hummed as he re-sat himself further on the bed, further into the girl’s side, all-whilst peering down at her with that dazzling smile.

 As another silence fell between them, Jongin nor the girl casted their eyes from one-another, causing the girl's face to slowly flush a darker shade pf pink. One of Jongin's eyebrows quirk up under the stands of hair that fell over his forehead, noticing the change in colour and breath-pattern of the girl. His expression only seemed to settle once his eyes flickered to her lips. As if he had read her mind.

 With a light cough, Jongin teared his eyes away and instead found their way to her bound hands rested on her stomach.

In-hailing a short breath, the girl watched as one of Jongin's hands reached out to tugged at the material that tied her hands. His eyes fixated on it, debating with himself. 

 "Should we take this off?" Jongin mumbled, as if to himself, but then looked at the girl again, meeting their eyed again. "Don't try anything dumb. if you do I won't be nice like this anymore, understand?" 

Surprised, the girl nodded eagerly, awaiting the release of her sore wrists, but halted when Jongin tusked. 

Her eyes widened slightlyat the sound before her lips parted in realization.

"I-I understand" .

 Jongin easily untied the tight knot before tossing the material onto the bed-side table. The girl rubbed along the deep lines and dark patches that now stained her wrists, concentrated on them so much she almost forgot to thank him. 

 "Ah.." realising her mistake, the girl glanced up about to apologise before her breath caught in her throat when her eyes landed on him. Much like the when he had been lost in thought last time they were alone, Jongin's attention seemed to be on her hands. She couldn't tell if he was watching out of cautiousness of her hands being free or disgust at the green-blue bruises because of the completely blank expression settled on his face. 

A light throb in her head caused the girl to close her eyes, a small whimper passing her lips from the sensation. 

However the pretense of her stare seemed to have pulled Jongin from his thoughts as his voice called to her softly. 

 "hey, hey, sit up. quickly now"

Just the thought of the action caused a sharp sting in her head, causing her eyes shut.

 She heard Jongin's sigh before his fore-arm slipped under her shoulders, the other steadying her body as he lifted her front half to sit up. 

 "I know it hurts, but listen when I tell you to do something” 

His voice was laced with a slight annoyance and there was a small scowl on his face when her eyes fluttered open. 

"I'm sorry, Jongin" she murmured, eyes focused on his "thank you, it's stopped stinging" 

 She hadn't intended it to, but her voice came out soft. Part of her was lost in his eyes again and another part was distracted by his lips. Their bodies were closer now and the girl had to pull her legs into a different position to be comfortable, her hands leaned on the bed covers in front of her, right beside Jongin's leg.

 "Hyunjae" The call of her name from his honey-like voice pulled her from her daze to see the man was staring at her, but with a slight shift in his eyes that hadn't been there a minute ago.

"Y-yes, Jongin?" The girl, not wanting to look away, let her fingers fiddled with the hem of her skirt to release her nerves.

 "If you keep staring at me like that I might attack you" his words, though dark, still somehow managed to sound like sweet honey to her and the of hint playfulness in his voice reassured her he wasn’t necessarily mad.

"I-I'm sorry" she tried to look away but the sudden memory of his lips on her's made it impossible. 

 Jongin chuckled, his hand moving from where they had been on the bedcovers to rest on her thigh, of which both had shifted closer to him. The girl had to gulp back a puddle of drool that had formed in her mouth under the small touch.  When She saw Jongin's eyes watching her throat as she did, she realised she wasn't good at hiding her reactions to him. 

 "You're still doing it" Jongin mused, a smirk playing on his lips. 

The girl squirmed slightly as his hand gently trailed up her leg, warming the delicate skin.

"It's as if..." he leaned forward, his free arm moved quickly to support him, his hand landing on the bed covers just past the girl, caging her in. He stopped so his lips were just beside his ear before finishing in a whisper "You're asking me to attack you" 

 "Jongin..." the girl whimpered as his lips gently enclosed around a small part of her ear before gently trailing down to her neck.

 "Be careful, baby" Jongin almost moaned, "you're making this hard for me" 

The girl could only attempt to restrain the small sounds that burnt in her throat to be released. His lips acting as a small flame that burnt down her neck, leaving a trail of tingling sensation as burn marks. 

 "I wish I could mark your pretty skin" he muttered against her neck, his breath growing more breathy "I wish I could be more rough with you..." 

Jongin trailed off as if realising his own restraints. He pulled back, leaving the girl's skin to tingle from the sensation of his lips.

 "I should stop here" Jongin muttered to himself, his eyes scanning the room as if needing to find confirmation. 

 "Jongin…" the girl's voice brought his eyes back to her, her face was flushed red but her eyes were round and sparkling, "You said next time I could touch your hair.." 

By the time the words left her lips Jongin had decided he could test his self control for the girl. 

His heart was beating strangely fast at the thought of her small hands and thin fingers tangled in his hair. 

"Come here" grabbing the girl's waist, to which she flinched at, Jongin guided the girl from beside him on the bed to on his lap. Her hands seemed lost as they settled to simply clutch his dress shirt gently. Jongin's right hand moved from her waist to instead gently cup her face.

"You can do what you want with your hands now" he muttered, his other hand momentarily moved from her waist to guide one of her arms around his neck, her other following after. 

"Thank you" The girl lifted her hands to touch his hair just as his hand pulled her face closer to connect their lips. 

 Her eyes fell shut. 

His hair was just as she imagined, it was soft under her fingertips despite being dyed a dark brown. And his lips were just as she remembered. She felt as though she could sit like that for hours kissing him as her fingers glided through his soft strands of hair. Even breathing become annoying as they were forced to separate their lips to do so. 

Jongin had never been fond of girls touching his hair only allowing it when he was in a particularly good mood. But with the school girl who was panting and whimpering in his lap, her fingers in his hair felt like bliss. She didn't tug or scratch but more combed his hair with her fingers,her nails that he occasionally felt against his scalp didn't hurt or sting but felt soothing. 

 "Jongin.." the girl's breathy voice made out his name between his kisses "your hair is so s-soft" She murmured absently before leaning in again, letting the man kiss her any way he pleased. 

"Your's is too, baby. I'll need to wash it, to keep it that way" she hadn't expected Jongin to say against her lips before kissing her again. 

 As the kiss continued Jongin's hand that was rested on her waist snaked around to her lower back. He felt her whole body flinch when his hand slipped under her skirt. Keeping his hand still, Jongin refocused her attention to his kisses. 

 As her body relaxed to his hand being under her skirt, his fingers reached towards the hem of her undergarment. Another whimper of his name as he nibbled at her lip encouraged him along. 

"Baby, your hands feel so nice in my hair" Jongin whispered, staring into the girl's eyes " I can't even imagine how they'd feel-" 

 Jongin stopped as he heard the click of the door lock. The faint sound ringing in his ears for a split second before his bedroom door opened. Hyunjae's breath hitched, only noticing at the sound of the door opening. 

 "My my, just look at this" 

The girl whimpered at the familiarity of Baekhyun's voice.

Intinctivly, out odf surprise her head began turning to look at the man stood at the door but was stopped by Jongin's hand that still cupped her cheek. 

 "You should be careful unlocking my door like that" Jongin seethed through this teeth "you're lucky I'm with this one" 

 "And I'm meant to believe that you're training her right now?" The next voice sounded furious, venom dropping from his sarcastic question. 

The girl In-hailed sharply, dread and panic filling her whole body at the furious man's voice. 

Sehun's voice.

 As she heard his footsteps approaching them, Jongin noticed the girl's eyes had already rimmed with tears and she was suddenly shaking in his hold. 

 "Get off his lap" Sehun's voice was behind her and before she could scurry away or cling to the only person she could, her waist was yanked back. 

She hit the floor between both men's feet with a cry that went unacknowledged.

 As Jongin stood up, the school girl felt her breath becoming short and an obnoxiously large lump forming in her throat.

 "She was clearly letting me do whatever I wanted, does training her to be obedient suddenly not count as training?" Jongin snapped at Sehun who only scoffed, completely unfazed by Jongin’s threating voice as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

 "She's only being obedient because it's you, Jongin" Baekhyun's voice spoke for Sehun, who only continued to glare calmly at Jongin.

 Hyunjae kept her eyes to the ground as Baekhyun moved from the door, his eyes burning holes into her. 

 "How would you know if that's the case.." Jongin spat lowly, glancing down to the girl who fiddled with her skirt. Distracted in the moment he looked at her, he nearly missed what Sehun said next. 

 "Hyung, take a seat" 

Jongin looked over to Baekhyun who's face was paused in surprise for a second before  blinking it away quickly and sitting down on the end of Jongin's bed, 

 "You're not serious Sehun. On my bed?" Jongin scoff went unnoticed by Sehun who looked down at the girl. 

 She whimpered at the tight grip Sehun took on her bruised wrist. Trembling as he pulled her up to her wobbly feet,  her eyes accidentally met his before they had flicked down to her wrists, noticing the bruises he was pushing on and smirked. 

"You don't like that, baby?" He mumbled and the girl felt a swirl of sickness in her stomach when he squeezed her wrist tighter while dragging her over to Baekhyun. 

 Hyunjae looked over to Jongin who seemed to be looking anywhere but straight at her. his switching between glaring at Sehun and looking at another corner of the room, letting Sehun do as he pleased. She felt her heart thud a little in betrayal but tried reminded herself he had no choice. 

 "Don't forget" Sehun's stern voice brought the girl to look up at him,his other hand gripped her chin " you still belong to me right now, you're not Jongin's" 

 "Yes, sir" The girl nodded, trying to maintain eye-contact despite the burning instinct to scamper away.

 "Good" Sehun released the girl's chin then turned her around to face Baekhyun instead. Hyunjae's throat dried as she looked into Baekhyun's eyes for a second, unable to hold his intense stare. 

"Since you seem to be listening now" Sehun gripped her shoulders before she felt him leaning over, his lips just beside her ear "why don't you give Baekhyun the same show you did for Jongin before we came in, hm?" 

 Hyunjae could feel a screech of surprise, disgust and protest stop in her throat, but released it as a small breath. 

 "She can't Sehun" Jongin's voice almost didn't register in her mind" she's terrified of Baekhyun in particular" 

 Sehun's grip on her shoulder's stung as he snapped back at Jongin "she should be scared of you too, Jongin" 

 The girl wiped the tears from her face as she peaked up from the ground over to Baekhyun who was leaned back watching the two bickering men. She was going to be taken from Jongin again. She could tell from the way he tried to negotiate again but Sehun wasn't taking it. 

The girl, with wobbly steps shuffled towards Baekhyun, her heart thumping in her chest at the chance of him possibly pushing her off or getting carried away. His eyes flickered to her when she got closer, looking surprised but even more so when she crawled into his lap. 

"A-am I A-allowed to call y-you Baekh-hyun?" She stuttered out, scared that she would do something wrong. Her face heated up in embarrassment when he bit his bottom lip, humming in approval as one of his hands left the bed to rest on her waist. 

"B-Baekhyun..?" She stuttered and he pulled his eyes from her neck to look at her, giving permission to speak. "C-can I touch y-your hair?" 

"Go for it" he chuckled and the girl put her arms around his shoulders and hesitantly ran her fingers through his hair. 

The girl noticed he blinked a little, looking slightly surprised. 

 "Having fun, Baekhyun?" Sehun's voice sounded agitated again but Baekhyun just smirked, looking over to the two who had stopped fighting. 

"Oh, lots" Baekhyun purred and looked back at the girl who’s attention wasn’t on him anymore but rather trying to look at Jongin. 

 "Hey, hey, you're not done" Baekhyun took the hand from her waist and took her chin, making her look at him with a red face.

 "I haven't told her to kiss first so she's not going to, Baekhyun" Jongin commented 

 "How long do you think you have?" Sehun scoffed back at Jongin, but Baekhyun’s full attention was on the school girl. 

 "That's fine" Baekhyun pulled her chin towards him and pressed their lips together "you'll kiss back" 

 Baekhyun was then the second man to even kiss the 17 year old and his lips were somehow just as soft as Jongin's. They seemed more gentle and feminine, his kisses were softer too. When she finally kissed back, he went crazy. 

 Sehun and Jongin's bickering was interrupted by the girl's squeal.

Baekhyun had pushed the girl into the bedcovers and was twisted at the waist as he leaned over her, attacking her lips with his hand well up her skirt, caressing her thighs.

 "Baekhyun hyung. stop now, you'll get carried away" Sehun sighed and the older man huffed, pecking the stunned school girl's lips a few more times before getting off the bed. 

"What? So it's fine for him but not me?" Jongin scoffed at Sehun who shrugged. 

"He doesn't get attached" Sehun said before eyeing the girl who had sat up hastily, pulling her skirt down. 

 "I'm taking her to down Chen" Sehun said, tearing his eyes from the girl to look at Jongin "but since she's improved I'll let you continue training her" 

 Jongin nodded gently, finding nothing reasonable to argue with in Sehun's plan. But a bitterness remained in his chest. 

 "Don't forget this~" Baekhyun's voice cooed as he collected a piece of material from the bed-side table. Jongin felt a little quiver of helplessness when the girl tensed at seeing Baekhyun pick up the material.

She stopped herself from resisting as Baekhyun grabbed her sore wrists, 

"Aw, look at that; your wrists all bruised up" Baekhyun cooed as he gently rubbed a bruise with his thumb before beginning to wrap the material around her wrists 

"Maybe this time.." Baekhyun began to tie the knot after wrapping her wrists gently "we can get a few cuts" 

Pulling the two ends harshly to tighten the bound as Baekhyun finished the knot, the girl yapped at the painful sting on her wrists

 "It hurts!" looked up from her painful wrists, the girl stared up at Baekhyun, tears welling in her eyes. Baekhyun only chuckled and looked over to Sehun who stepped over. 

"It's meant to" Sehun spat, clicking his tongue as he grabbed the girl’s now bound wrists to yank her up.

The girl whimpered as the material dug into her skin at the rough hold. Stumbling towards the door after the two men, she could only glance back briefly to see Jongin watching her be dragged away. Their eyes only meeting for a a short second before Beakhyun shut the door roughly after her.

@ninibears-erigom​  @junztar @kimjongninie​ @heartshapedenchiladas @mononymie @parkjimininiii

if you would like to be @’d in the next chapter just let me knooow. If you have the time  please let me know what you think,my heart explodes at any comments  

#exo mafia au #exo au #exo au series #exo jongin #exo x reader #kai x reader #sehun x reader #baekhyun x reader #mafia au #exo #exo scnarios #exo imagines #exo fanfiction #kpop mafia au #no attachments

[probably-writing-x]

High Society (The Reveal)

~A Tom Holland AU Series~

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @sleepwalkingdragon @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @shamelessbookaddict @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee

Warnings: In-detail depictions of death and murder, language warning, mentions of violence and gang crime.

Notes: Wow! It's finally here!!! I hope this reveal lives up to your expectations... I'm so nervous to post it ahhhh! Let me know allof your final thoughts...

~~~Wednesday 30th January 2019~~~

"-I am arresting you under suspicion of the murder of Imogen Clarke. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention something that you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given as evidence," Her voice is certain of every word and you swear for a moment you feel all hearts drop to the tiled floor. Going, going, gone.

~~~Friday 25th January 2019~~~

"Dad, please stop going on about it," You sigh, fixing the light curls of your hair for the millionth time, "Can I not just enjoy tonight? Or is that not allowed after the big sister reveal?"

Peter and Evan were stood in the doorway of your bedroom, clearly giving you extremely unimpressed looks about your decision to attend the Winter Ball.

"It's not just Imogen," Peter points out, nudging at his husband, "You know how we feel about that Thomas kid,"

You let out an exaggerated groan, turning around to face them, "Stop it! You're acting like he's completely destroying who I am. In fact, he's the only reason I actually want to be there tonight. I would be very happy to never have to see Imogen again. But I want to spend one last night at that school before you flip everything upside down again, okay?"

Your outburst was unexpected by all of you and your Dads are stunned into a welcomed silence, both of them looking at their baby girl with blinking eyes, refusing to believe that this school had changed her that much. But it had. And, of course, they wouldn't accept that. She was too pure to be tainted by the posh kids at that school.

"Tom's here," You sigh, more thankful than you'd be able to express to him. Turning quickly to check yourself in the mirror, you brush your hands cautiously over the material of your dainty dress, making sure the boxing gloves still hung right over your heart. You welcomed the nerves, it made this all feel like a real school dance - and not a shattering goodbye.

Tom was waiting at the door when you made your way down the stairs and the shine in his eyes made you instantly know you'd made the right choice with your dress. It was a dark sky blue colour and fell over the curves of your hips, cutting off at the point on your thighs where your stretch marks faded. His eyes echoed a mix of complete adoration and an utter surprise that you'd be the one he'd attend the ball with tonight.

"Hello stranger," He croaks out, quickly clearing his throat to try to avoid his cheeks growing too much of a pink glow.

"Hello, Thomas," You chuckle, realising just how much you'd missed that damn face.

He grabs your hand when you're just close enough to him and pulls you flush against his chest, "Do we really have to go to the ball? Can't we have our own party?"

You hum against his words, welcoming the hot air that they bathed your face in, "Maybe we could sneak a few moments to ourselves,"

"I know this is meant to be some big reunion or whatever but can we please get going?" Sam calls from his seat in the back of Tom's car, poking his head out from the open window.

You laugh and greet the twins who had opted to dress in matching suits for the night. Tom opened your door for you and, soon, the four of you were journeying towards school; still with the sickening feeling in your stomach that it would be your last time.

~~~

The school was electrified with a warm buzz, with all of your year filtering through the doors and welcoming the familiarity of chart songs blasting through the overhead speakers. Tom was greeted by everyone he walked past and he made sure to say hello to them all, still happy to take the title of King of this school. It was only when he saw Lily that he really had to force the 'nice boy' demeanour.

"It's nice to see you Lily," He smiles politely, twisting his hand in yours slightly as though he still needed to confirm you were there, "Did you have a good holiday?"

"Oh relax with the small talk," She rolls her eyes, "Talk to me when you've got rid of the downgrade, honey," Her lips press against his cheek in a bitter display of affection before she's strutting off with an excessive display of confidence.

You speak up before Tom can even try to apologise, "Let's get a drink, I think we might need something stronger than punch if we're going to make it through comments like that,"

His laugh is a sound you didn't realise you were missing as he willingly accepts you tugging him towards the refreshments stand where Noah and Z are visible.

"Well hello, stars of the show," Noah wiggles his brows at the two of you, handing over a cup of fruit punch to Sam who had walked over too.

"Hey guys," You grin, reaching over to get two cups for you and Tom, "Did you have a good holiday?"

All of you engage in relaxed small talk until the sound of the microphone cracking makes everyone's eyes divert toward the stage.

Mrs Osterfield took her position behind the microphone and cleared her throat. It was only then that everyone else joined you: Harrison, Lily, Harry, Noah, Zendaya, Sam, Imogen, Tom and you.

"Well, you all look beautiful tonight guys and I'm glad we can all be here to celebrate together. Something I've really noticed about this group is the community spirit - you are all one big team and that's something that you should really embrace-" She continues with her speech about how brilliant you all were before the lights dim in the sports hall and you're all left in a strange, prolonged darkness.

It is only then that something flashes. You can't help but divert your eyes to Zendaya and Noah, both hiding a deep pride for all of this, clearly being at the heart of the plan. You go back to reading the words spilling across the electronic screen.

'We were all told this term to expose something about ourselves and about each other. But it's time we expose something about the school we're relying on for our futures. How about them completely dismissing everything fucked up that's going on in our year? The manipulation of their teachers by eighteen year old students. The manipulation of other students by people forcing them into twisted relationships,'

Everybody in your group looks to Imogen who is red with a burning fury.

'We're living in a fucked up school. And Lily, Imogen, all of you, this is where it stops,"

The lights don't come back on but the chatter of every student in here is enough to cover any need for illumination. Enough had already been seen. And, in the blue light glow of the enlarged screen, you watch Imogen storm away from the crowd. When you glance back up, Zendaya and Noah have disappeared into the crowd and it is too dark to see where they've gone.

You find yourself following the focus of the recent exposure and you finally catch up with Imogen at the stairs.

"Imogen," You start, watching as she pauses in her high-heeled steps on the inclined floor.

"Did you set this up? Was this all you?" She questions, clearly not holding enough respect for you to justify her making any eye contact.

"No, god, no. I had no idea," You respond.

It felt strange to be seeing her now, not just as the bitch Imogen but as a girl you had spent your first moments as the sibling of. The girl you had the potential to grow up to want to be just like.

"Then what do you want? Are you here for an apology or something?" It is only now that she turns round, arms folded and looking in all ways dissimilar from you. Maybe you were thankful for that - her beauty held a chilling sin.

"I found something out over Christmas and I think it's important that you know," You begin, wrapping your hands around each other to express your nerves without trembling onto the ground.

"Well? Spit it out,"

"You're my sister," You manage to finally release, the words feeling sickening to be directed at someone you wanted to completely despise.

The look on her face was one you were all too knowing to not expect. A mocking smirk and the delicate release of a pathetic laugh.

"What the fuck is that meant to mean?" She scoffs, stepping one stair closer to you.

"What I just said. I was ado-" You begin but she is quick to cut you off, stepping so close that you could see every particle of her makeup.

"Oh, honey, don't act like there's some familial bond between us," She lets out an exasperated laugh, "Because, sis, I'm pretty sure family wouldn't be willing to help somebody steal from me,"

You're sure it is audible when your words clatter against the floor, echoing irritatingly through mocking halls.

"Don't test me, (Y/N)," She shakes her head, "And don't ever assume we're family, darling,"

And then she's gone, leaving you at the bottom of these stairs, sure that you were going to wake up in any moment. Nothing.

You're not sure how long you stay there, sitting against the cold stairs, until someone is there to greet you.

The familiar aftershave of Tom's wraps around you like a blanket as his arms hold your waist with a relieving comfort.

"So I lost everyone at the party, I literally couldn't find anyone," He comments, a harmless remark for now.

Tom pulls himself closer to you, his head only inches from yours.

"Is this our chance to get away?" He mumbles, breath hot as his lips brush your ear.

Tom needs no reply as he pulls you through the corridors and out through the doors towards the swimming pool.

"Tom," You hiss but you can't say anything more as you feel your back press against the harshness of the cold wall tiles. It forces you to let out an involuntary squeak that is instantly silenced by Tom's lips on yours.

You melt into the contact that you had been missing for weeks and forget all about the rest. It was just him.

When he pulls away, his forehead is on yours and his nose bumps subconsciously with yours, "(Y/N)," He begins, welcoming the breathless nature of his words, "I know. I know your parents want you to leave. And I know you're going to leave after tonight," His confession feels like you've just been hit against the tiled wall once again, forceful and unforgiving.

"I-" You start, "How did you find out?"

"I knew your Dads were still debating it so I found Evan's number and I spoke to him whilst you were away," You find yourself gripping onto him a little tighter as he speaks, "I pleaded with him for ages to try to get you to stay. But he said the only way you'd ever be able to carry on here would be if you separated yourself from everyone who's had a bad impact on you. From me,"

"Tom I'm not staying here if-"

"I also knew that would be your response. So, I want to spend this one last weekend with you and then we'll decide your fate after that. We'll decide if you stay or go. But, let's just get away for a weekend," His positive encouragement is enough to make you want to agree wholeheartedly.

"Okay," You whisper and his face brightens enough to make your dark surroundings feel blinding.

"Then let's go, you know what your parents are like. They wouldn't want you to step a foot out of here with me," He points out, his hand gripping yours with more certainty than ever.

Tom goes to pull you away and it is in that moment that everything just stops. The shattering blow was an unmistakable sound and so was the ear bursting thud that followed. And, then, a stumbling silence.

"What wa-" Tom begins but he sees the way your eyes glaze over. The way your hand falls out of his and the way he's sure your heart audibly stops. It is only then that his eyes follow yours, tracing the invisible path to where you couldn't bare to rip your gaze from.

Unmistakable.

You could see how their hands were trembling, and how the trophy fit into them with a deathly uncertainty, a foreign power. Their eyes held a fury that was washed over with a sheer shock at what their own actions had just caused. And their stumbling feet told you that their mind still hadn't processed what their instincts had just caused.

"No," Tom shakes his head, feet chasing after the scene like they'd run fast enough to rewind it, "No, no, no, no,"

It was as clear as day in the dim setting. Her body, unforgivingly lifeless in the scarlet pooling of her once rushing blood. Her eyes, fluttered shut to echo a false hope that she was peaceful, only to be shattered by the ragged wound across her styled hair.

"What have you done?" Tom yells, his eyes diverting around every single feature of this mess.

The trophy clattered to the floor in another bone shuddering clash. And you could see how their hands trembled, a vision of thankfulness for the power they were able ro release from grip.

"She- she knew too much," They stumbled over the words like it wasn't their mouth saying them and it wasn't their hands that had just stopped all knowledge she could have held.

It was in that moment you could see how unreal this all seemed to Tom. In front of him was no longer a person he knew. It was a person he was sure he never wanted to meet. Because, behind trembling hands and crying eyes, there was someone who had just killed another. A murderer. His brother.

"She knew about the gang, and she knew about the pregnancy test," He shakes and the movement is recognisable in his fearful words, "And then I heard her talking to you (y/n), she knew about the necklace and us and Harrison,"

Tom can't possibly rip his eyes away from the boy in front of him but you know he's wishing he could be anywhere else. That he could wake up and have his younger brother again, and not this tainted form of the boy he once was.

"Okay, you need to get out of here," You nod, certain of your unsure words, "Go through the back alley to your house and stay there until we tell you to come back. We'll just say you didn't feel well and you came back once you heard something had happened,"

He looks at you and his eyes are blurring with a terrified haze.

"Tom, me and you need to go. We'll go to the gym and just say that we went there after the whole fiasco at the ball to spend some time together. Nobody will question it," You say to him and it is only then that he makes eye contact with you.

"Tom, am I going to prison?" The younger holland brother asks, and it is only then that he truly starts to cry.

"Hey, hey," Tom steps over to him and grips his shoulders, "You're my brother. I'd do anything for you. That's what it means to be a Holland, okay Harry?"

And then he's running.

You force yourself with everything to look down at the lifeless body. The dried blood that stained her hair and trailed down her face. It all felt too gone. Like she'd been gone for far too long.

"We need to get rid of that fucking trophy," You mention and you're sure that everything around you is spinning apart from that blood soaked weapon.

"T-Tom?"

Both of you look up to see Sam stood frozen in the doorway of the swimming pool, looking between you and Tom like he wanted to run as far away from you as possible.

"Sam, buddy, we need you to do something," Tom states, "I need you to take that trophy, go out the back door, and get it as far away from here as possible,"

Sam can't help but listen to the words of his brother, whom he was willing to trust with his life.

"It was Harry, wasn't it?" He says as his hands grasp the cold, twisted metal of the trophy.

"Now's not the time," Tom replies, still refusing to confirm it yet, "Get out of here, go!"

It is as soon as his brothers are out of here that you see Tom decline. He runs his hands through his hair and you're sure he can feel everything around him crumbling.

"Babe, come on, we can't stay here," You grab at his hand and start pulling him toward the door, wanting to get as far away from the scene as your mind would let you run.

And the two of you set off like there's a fire at your heels. But what really chased at your escape was much worse than any fire could muster. It was the glass eyes of your blood relation, at the cold hands of Tom's own brother.

You're sprinting down the corridor behind Tom and watch as his hands tug at the tie around his neck, throwing it's silk to the floor in an absentminded throw. The restriction in his chest was impossible to stop.

And you were running - away from a fate that was far too sickening to fathom.

#tom holland #tom #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland drabble #tom holland series #tom imagine #tom series #tom one shot #tom drabble #tom x reader #tom holland x reader #tom x you #tom holland x you #tom x y/n #tom holland x y/n #harrison #harrison osterfield #harry holland #sam holland #zendaya #elite #elite series #elite netflix #elite inspiration #high society #hs

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi, love!! First of all, I'm discovering wonderful fics I've never read because of people's questions in your Tumblr so... thank you so f****** much!!! Now, do you have a list or would you recommend me some fics where John is a doctor? Can be in Afghanistan, with Sarah, AUs of any time and type... But where John being a doctor is an important part of the fic or the principal one. Thank you, lovely!! By the way, I've been reading your comments about the John hate and I agree with you!! 😘😘

Hi Lovely!

Ahhhhh okay you’re in luck, because I was sorting a list of “sick fics” and one of the categories was “John Takes Care of Sherlock” so I can add those onto these other “doctor John” fics!  I don’t know if I have any where he is strictly a doctor, but let’s see what’s sorted in my bookmarks right now!

DOCTOR / CARETAKER JOHN

Whispers in the Dark by coloured_ink (G, 833 w. || Bed Sharing, Anxious Sherlock, Anxiety, Caring John, Spooning, Little Spoon Sherlock) – Sherlock has anxiety attacks. Good thing John always knows what to do.

Static by Johnnlocked (Krullenbol2602) (G, 917 w. || Fluff, H/C, Doctor John, Headaches, POV Sherlock, Fluff, H.C, Pre-TSo3) – Sherlock suffers from a headache.

The Most Awful Thing by whitchry9 (K+, 1,072 w. || H/C, Holmes Brothers, Seizures) – When Mycroft witnesses Sherlock having a seizure, he is at a complete loss as to what he should do. Thankfully, John is there.

Cuddling by GraciousK (G, 1,107 w. || Fluff and Angst, Cuddling/Snuggling, Fluff, Hypothermia) – When John finally finds Sherlock, he’s hypothermic and delirious. John warms him up the only way Sherlock will allow: body heat. It ends up more angsty than sexy. Part 2 of 30-day OTP Challenge: Johnlock

Bringing Colour to the World by SD_Ryan (G, 1,168w. || Est. Relationship, Sickfic, Fluff, Schmoop) – In which we encounter a sick detective, a snuggle on the couch, and a silly fairytale.

Shut Up and Sleep by Cumberbatch Critter (T, 1,257 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship) – Sherlock has a knack for hurting himself, although not entirely on purpose. John is a doctor, and it’s a good thing he’s there.

Mentality by Cumberbatch Critter (T, 1,350 w. || Friendship, Hurt / Comfort, THoB Fic, Doctor John) – It was weird. But Sherlock was having a panic attack. Re-write of the Hounds of the Baskerville scene. 

Lost Without My Army Doctor by ItsRealForUs (K, 1,499 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Migraines, Doctor John, Domestics) – Sherlock’s fighting a losing battle with his migraine when John comes home to help.

The Two of Us Against the World by slashscribe (T, 1,617 w. || Post-TAB, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Anxious Sherlock, Angsty Fluff) – John is there to take care of Sherlock as he comes down from his overdose in The Abominable Bride. Set immediately after the tarmac, back in 221B.

Conciliatory Coffee (It’s All Fine) by dget (K+, 1,635 w. || Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Post-TRF Reunion) – "He can feel John’s shuddering breaths in his own lungs, feel John’s heart beating behind his own sternum.“ Because John Watson is a doctor, and Sherlock Holmes is a detective, and neither really knows how to be anything else. A post-Reichenbach reunion oneshot. Can be read as Johnlock.

The Doctor’s Capable Hands by Totally-Out-Of-It (K+, 2,012 w. || Sherlock Whump, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Anxious Sherlock) – Sherlock is injured during a chase. John sits watchful at his bedside in the hospital and wonders. He wouldn’t leave Sherlock alone like this. Especially not if Sherlock wanted him to stay.

This is Life in Colour by agent iz hyper (K+, 2,038 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Sherlock Whump, Doctor John) – John thought with a flash of amusement that only Sherlock Holmes could look like he was about to pass out and still maintain his usual level of acerbic scorn. “You’re a git,” he told him mildly. “And an idiot,” he added as an afterthought, though no less pointedly.  A look into the perks of being both a doctor and a soldier when one is the friend of Sherlock Holmes.

Assurance by belovedmuerto (T, 2,382 w. || Bed-Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Idiots in Love) – It’s not so much the ‘you’re half-dead, you wanker,’ or even the broken ribs, the hairline fracture of the pelvis, the dislocated shoulder and knee, and the wrenched ankle.

Intensive Care by aceofhearts61 (T, 2,539 w. || Ace!Sherlock / Straight John Queerplatonic Relationship, Hurt Comfort, Angst, Cuddles and Snuggles, Hugs, Doctor!John, Medical Procedures) – In which John looks after Sherlock directly following the events of “Bless You and Keep You.” Sequel Fic. Part 15 of A Love with No Name

Green Carnation by glenien (T, 2,616 w. || Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Meta-Fic, Angst and Fluff, Communication, Post-TAB) – John takes Sherlock home. Part 1 of It’s No Longer Eighteen Ninety-Five

Someone Else’s Heart by thisprettywren (E, 4,188 w. || First Time, H/C, POV Sherlock, Caretaking John, Pining Idiots) – A crime scene, a rainstorm, and something they both should have known all along.

The Sum of His Parts by CommonNonsense (T, 4,311 w. || Body Worship, First Kiss / Time) – There are eleven major organ systems in the human body. Sherlock knows about all of them to some degree, but none fascinate him as much as the ones that make up John Watson.

Very Good Indeed by StillWaters1 (T, 4,531 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Doctor John, John Whump) – John Watson was a doctor, trained to observe details; a fact Sherlock had never been more aware of than when a drugged John’s lifesaving instructions were based on an unlabeled syringe and an unconscious murder suspect’s body.

This Time by Radon65 (T, 4,766 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship) –  He has practically just finished talking to Lestrade when it happens. A sudden dizziness assaults his brain, things tip sideways, and he barely catches himself on the arm of the sofa to slow his descent before he collapses altogether to the floor.

A Case of Identity by PostcardsfromTheoryland (T, 4,978 w. ||  Post-TRF, John on Holiday, Pining Sherlock, Whump, Angst, Reunion) – All John wanted was to get away from London for a few weeks. No people pointing and whispering about Sherlock Holmes when he walked past, no reporters wanting an “exclusive” about the dead detective, just some rest and relaxation in the sunshine. Then again, these holiday trips never seem to go as planned.

Needles by Kryptaria (M, 5,194 w. || Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Needles, Referenced/Implied Drug Use, Doctor John) – At the end of January, 2010, John and Sherlock move to 221-B Baker Street. By mid-February, John takes up his role not only as Sherlock’s guardian and helper, but also his doctor. As the months pass, they grow closer and the trust between them deepens, until Sherlock puts it to the ultimate test.

I think You Need A Doctor by TheGoodDirector (M, 5,254 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Sherlock Whump, Mistaken Couple, Humour, Platonics, Mary is Nice) – John’s not been to Baker Street in four months and returns to find a bleeding Consulting Detective. John can’t help but take care and put up with him. Set after The Sign of Three/Before His Last Vow.

Recovery by thesignsofserbia (T, 5,948 w. || HLV-Fix It / Rewrite, Villain Mary, Pining Sherlock, Major Character Injury, Scars, Self-Hatred, POV Sherlock, Doctor John, Friends to Lovers) – Set after the confrontation with Mary, and Sherlock’s cardiac arrest, John stays at 221B to aid Sherlock’s recovery, forcing them to confront wounds both old and new as they try to heal their damaged relationship.

The Death of Doubt by Gingerhermit (E, 6,584 w. || Alternate Canon, BAMF John, POV Sherlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Drama, Meddling Mycroft) – Mycroft asks for John’s help in rescuing Sherlock from his Serbian captors.

Survival Instinct by shirleyholmes (T, 7,162 w. || Post-TRF, First Kiss, Schmoop, Nightmares, Fluff & Angst, Grief, Idiots in Love) – After Sherlock’s “comeback” John starts obsessing with constantly making sure he’s alive (checking his heartbeat etc.)

The doctor is in by PlainJane (E, 7,581 w. || Omegaverse || Sex Therapist, Anal, Hand Jobs, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock is a young alpha with an aversion to his cycle. John is a gender medicine specialist. Nothing could possibly go wrong… Part 1 of Doctors and detectives

I’m Pretty Sure This Changes Shit by cwb (E, 7,672 w. || Fluff, Cudding, Doctor/Patient, Accidents) – Sherlock finds increasingly ridiculous ways to get John to patch him up after hurting himself.

The T-Shirt Thief by watsonsherlocksuniverse (T, 7,968 w. || Pining Sherlock, Doctor John, First Kiss, Canon Fix-It, Developing Rel., Mutual Pining) – Sherlock steals John’s t-shirt from the laundry. John catches him wearing it one evening, fluff ensues with an endeared yet teasing John?

You’re a Doctor, Fix me by edken (G, 8,342 w. || Fluff / Cuddling) – Sherlock doesn’t do anything halfway, and that includes getting sick. John nurses a very sick flatmate back to health using cuddles, forehead kisses, and a massage. Humor and fluff promised this time, but also some character analysis because who doesn’t love that?

Matters of National Security by mistyzeo (E, 8,465 w. || Jealous Sherlock, First Time, RST, Idiots in Love, Frottage) – John starts dating a male client of Sherlock’s, and Sherlock can’t figure out why he’s so incensed about it.

Incapacitation by Cumberbatch Critter (T, 9,424 w. || Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Sick Sherlock, Doctor John, Appendicitis) – The doctor had just asked how bad the pain was when the pain spiked. Sherlock’s initial response was a gasp that evolved into a whimper. “Ten,” he gasped. “Ten…”

Someone I Love by hudders-and-hiddles (M, 10,002 w. || Canon Compliant, HLV-Filler Fic, Pre-Slash, Jealous John, PIning Sherlock, Angst & Fluff, UST/URT, Dog Tags) – John gets married and Sherlock finds comfort in wearing John’s identity tags around his wrist.

The Thin Line by Odamaki (M, 10,809 w. || Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Confessions, First Times, Anal) – John swallows. Keeps his eyes on Sherlock. Begs him not to ruin him.Sherlock leans forward over the witness box ever-so slightly, “I was distracted,” he informs the court, “by my partner, John Watson.”

In A Changing Age by allonsys_girl (E, 15,590 w. || Victorian AU, Virgin / Demi Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, Mild H/C) – Sherlock wakes up in the 19th century, with no idea how he got there.

Partners in Crime by Richefic (T, 16,560 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Sick John, Meddling Mycroft, Caring Sherlock, Domestics) – John Watson receives some devastating news which puts a spanner in his medical ambitions. Will Sherlock prove capable of the kind of comfort and reassurance he needs or will their partnership be ended before its even begun? Set between 1.1 and 1.2.

I Will Take Care Of You by SailorChibi (T, 16,664 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Sick Sherlock, BAMF John, BAMF Lestrade, Reunion Fic) – Two years after Sherlock’s death, John comes to find him on the sofa. Wounded and ill, Sherlock is convinced he’s hallucinating and refuses to share any details about Moran or the fact that Mycroft has been compromised. That doesn’t stop John from stepping up and taking care of the last of Moriarty’s web, BAMF-style.

And A Doctor by StillWaters1 (T, 27,393 w. || Friendship, Doctor John, Whump, Soldier / Doctor Dichotomy, Five and One) – It was only when people actually saw John working as a physician that they began to understand: that it wasn’t just about bullets and IEDs and trauma care under fire. That “doctor” actually covered a pretty wide field. And that John was bloody good at covering ground. 5 times Dr. Watson treated others and 1 time he treated himself.

The Midas Touch by flawedamythyst (E, 32,231 w. || Magical Realism, John has a Magical Cock, Dub Con, Healer John) – John Watson has a medical condition that means everyone he sleeps with is instantly healed of all illness and injury. This causes complications when Sherlock breaks his arm, and even more complications when Sherlock falls in love with him. Yes, this is a story where John has a literal magic healing cock. It’s a lot less cracky than you’re probably imagining. Warning: Contains complex issues of sexual consent, although not between Sherlock and John.

The Yellow Poppies by SilentAuror (E, 34,952 w. || H/C, Nightmares, HLV Fix-It, PTSD, Trauma, POV Sherlock, Doctor John) – Sherlock is threatened and assaulted in the hospital immediately after having been shot in the heart, first by Mary, then by Magnussen. As he recovers at Baker Street with John and plans the attack on Appledore with Mycroft, he fights to work through the trauma caused by these two visits. Set during His Last Vow.

Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid (E, 47,709 w. || Casefic, Fluff, Romance, Frottage) - John knows the human body intimately. He’s had plenty of opportunity for study as a doctor, soldier, and lover. There’s one particular body, however, he knows very little about. When Sherlock launches himself head-first into a new obsession and they get sent on a case in an unlikely location, the pair discovers each other’s bodies with confusing yet delightful (and sometimes hilarious) results.

Electric Pink Hand Grenade by BeautifulFiction (E, 67,718 w. | First Time, First Kiss, Headaches and Migranes) – If Sherlock’s brain is a hard drive, then these attacks are an electro-magnetic pulse.“ Sherlock Holmes does not do anything by half, not even a migraine. It falls to John to witness one of the greatest minds he has ever known tear itself apart, and he must do his best to help Sherlock pick up the pieces.

The Moonlight and the Frost by CaitlinFairchild (E, 77,289 w. || Case Fic, Post-HLV, Self Harm, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Oral/Anal/Rimming, Romance, Angst, Mary is Not Nice) – John has to somehow rebuild his life in the wake of Mary’s betrayal and Sherlock’s deceptions.

To Light Another’s Path by BeautifulFiction (E, 128,654 w. || Post-TGG, H/C, Case Fic, First Time/Kiss, Drug Addiction) – Teaching John to observe seems to be a losing battle, but when Sherlock falls ill and submits himself to John’s care, will he realise that there is more to life than the science of deduction? Meanwhile, there is a murder to solve, and John must try and convince Sherlock not to sacrifice his own health for the sake of the case.

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatise to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

MARKED FOR LATER

These fics are just a few I remembered I put into my MFL list recently, and I haven’t read them yet, so read at your own discretion!

A Home for Us by sussexbound (NR, 3,440 w. || Scars, Bedsharing, Grief, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Implied/Referenced Torture) – He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

How They Move In Silence by Breath4Soul (M, 3,516+ w., WiP || Doctor John, Doctor/Patient, Voiceless Sherlock, Sick Sherlock, Texting) – Sherlock loses his voice and has to communicate through texts which leads to love confessions.

Recovery by mainegirlwrites (M, 26,935 w. || Injured Sherlock, Disfigured Sherlock, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, John Takes Care of Sherlock) – The great Sherlock Holmes is recovering from disfiguring injuries with the help of Dr. John Watson - but can a broken spirit be fixed?

You Go To My Head Series by 7PercentSolution and J_Baillier (E, 257,765+ w. across 8 Stories, WiP || Surgeon AU || Medical Realism, Doctor John / Doctor Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Addiction, Angst, Slow Burn, PTSD, Pining, Insecurity) – This series is an alternate universe one, featuring the exciting medical and romantic adventures of doctors Watson (senior neuroanaesthetist) and Holmes (neurosurgeon).

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #doctor john #risherinobombing #caretaker john