#everyone got so busy and most of the fics aren’t edited but I think I can fix it with what I’ve learned so far

[spencer-reid-in-a-pool]

From Barrooms to Bedrooms

Author’s Note: First off, I just wanna say I’ve never written a fic like this before so pls be nice 💀🤚🏻Second, it hasn’t been edited for spelling, etc, so if you see something I need to fix pls lemme know!

~ this sign indicates (female) reader POV

_____ this indicates Jaskier’s POV

Italics are flashbacks

Contains: maybe OOC Jaskier (but it’s hot okay-), swearing, name calling, implied smut, sexual comments, choking, subby brat/dom vibes 

I might not be the most famous bard on the continent, but I was far from the worst. I had a fair bit of a reputation, but it wasn’t until I met that sarcastic bastard Jaskier that I wanted more. By the gods, I had to become more popular than him. I just had to. I wanted to teach that pompous ass a lesson. 

The first time I had met him, it was by chance. There had been a mix up at the tavern I was scheduled to play, and the innkeeper had accidentally hired us both. 

~

I walked into the tavern with a spring in my step, and my violin on my back. This was one of the biggest places I had ever played for, and my nerves reflected that. 

Upon opening the door, a few patrons glanced up at me, but for the most part everyone was quiet and minding their own business. Of course, that was when I spotted a large white-haired man sitting in the corner, and in front of him was a smaller man with chestnut brown hair and a lute sitting next to him. Instantly, I recognized them. All the continent knew of Geralt’s tales thanks to the bard Jaskier. Maybe he could give me some pointers, since he had been in the game longer than I had. 

Before I became too shy, I made my way over to their table, and the Witcher saw me first. Once he met my gaze, Jaskier turned to look over his shoulder and saw me. 

“And who might you be, darling? Come to meet the famous Witcher and his bard? Can’t say I blame you,” he said with a click of his tongue. 

“Well, actually, I’m playing this tavern tonight, and I was wondering if you had any advice for me. I’ve heard your songs- you’re the best.”

A darker, more angry look replaced his previously happy one. I had no idea what I had done wrong, so it sent me into a slight panic. 

“You’re playing tonight? No, there must be some mistake. I was hired to play tonight.”

Taken aback, I blinked rapidly while processing what he said. Then an idea came to me. 

“Well, why don’t we play together? Perhaps it was an honest mistake and the innkeeper hired us both.”

My smile quickly faded when he set his mug down with a thud and stood up to face me. 

“Jaskier,” the Witcher grumbled across the table. 

If the bard had heard him, he paid Geralt no mind. His gaze was focused directly on me. 

“You don’t understand. I don’t play with anyone else. I play by myself. You can go tell the innkeeper that you aren’t performing anymore. I’ll even throw you a few marks for your trouble.” 

A sinking feeling overtook me. This was nowhere near how I had imagined meeting him. I hadn’t even done anything wrong and he already seemed to hate me. 

“What the fuck is your problem, Jaskier?” Geralt said as he stood, reaching out an arm to shove him. 

Jaskier took a few steps to regain his balance, and adjusted his doublet angrily. 

“She is.” 

~

Just thinking about it pissed me off. That was months ago though, so maybe I should let it go. After all, I was now standing in front of another tavern, far away from that one from before. I had a good feeling about this one. It was another day. So I took a deep breath, puffed out my chest to look confident, and entered the tavern. 

As luck would have it, I saw the Witcher as soon as I entered, but his personal parasite was nowhere to be seen. That’s fine. I had no issues with Geralt. I decided to pay him a quick visit before I got ready to perform. 

“Geralt of Rivia,” I declared, giving a small curtsy, “Where’s your walking infection? Did he get himself killed?”

Part of me felt bad for saying these things. But then I remembered our first meeting again, and suddenly felt much less so. 

He was mid swallow of his ale, so it took him a second to respond. I gestured to the seat in front of him, and he nodded in return, signaling it was okay for me to sit down. 

“He’s around here somewhere. Probably getting ready to play.”

My mouth fell open and I stiffened as though I had been petrified. 

“I’m sorry...he’s getting ready to what?”

It was then that I heard someone behind me. I didn’t even have to look to guess who it was. 

“You know, I thought that this tavern might be a bit nicer than some others. But I see they let any riffraff in here.”

I took a deep breath and nodded to no one in particular, trying to calm my nerves. His feelings were about to get hurt. This was not going to happen to me again.

I stood suddenly, whipping around to face the idiot. But my breath hitched in my throat when I saw him, because by the gods was he attractive. I hated to admit it, but there was no denying that fact. In just half a moment, I had lost track of everything I wanted to say to him, and that pissed me off even more. 

“Are you going to say anything, darling, or just stand there and stare at me like an imbecile?” 

His words snapped me to attention, and my heart pounded against the confines of my chest. 

“You know what?”

“What?” he spat back at me. 

“You are insufferable, conceited, and nasty. I can’t believe I ever looked up to someone like you. You think you’re famous because of your songs? You would be absolutely nothing without your Witcher. He’s the reason you’re famous. You’re just the sidekick. And a pathetic one at that.”

I shoved past him without giving him a chance to respond, making sure my shoulder made contact with his to knock him off balance.

~ 

Once I made it into the room I had booked for the night, I set my violin down gently on the bed before I groaned and fell beside it. I don’t care if he is playing tonight. I’m playing first, and everyone is going to remember me. Not him. Not the way his stupid eyes glint in the dim tavern light, or the way he smelled slightly of lavender and something sweet. They wouldn’t remember the way his fingers looked curled around a mug, or better yet his lute. Or the way his signet ring sat against his skin...

I scoffed and stood back up before my thoughts got any weirder. Not long after, I could hear people begin to cheer and make noise. He must be playing. Wonderful. 

Absentmindedly, I paced my room while listening to the commotion get louder and louder. It wasn’t doing much to help my mood. 

“Well, fuck. If I’m gonna hear it all the way up here, I may as well sit downstairs at the bar and listen.”

I begrudgingly made my way downstairs, but not before I grabbed my instrument. I was going to play one way or another tonight. 

The crowd’s volume was reaching an all time high as I finally entered. Jaskier was in the middle of Fishmonger’s Daughter which always got people rowdy. 

I sat down at the bar and ordered two mugs of ale for myself. There would almost certainly be more coming my way tonight. As soon as I received my drinks, I took a long swig and finally turned to look at the source of the crowd’s noise. Jaskier. Dandelion. Whatever you wanted to call him. 

He was weaving his way through the crowd with a large, open-mouthed smile as he sang. None of the hostility that he expressed towards me was showing on his face. Instead, it was his normal charm and charisma. The things that made people watch him and listen to him intently, myself included. His movements were so delicate, yet so precise. He knew exactly where he was going and when, even though the crowd was moving around him haphazardly. And his hands. His fingers. They were so sure. So mesmerizing in their lithe abilities. Jaskier truly was the best at what he did. 

A groan escaped my throat, and I looked away from him as he shed his doublet for the night. The last thing I wanted to look at right now was the way his undershirt clung to his arms, or the way his hair was sticking slightly to his forehead with sweat. 

“Fuck,” I sighed. Within seconds I had downed the rest of my first mug, and set my head in my hands in frustration. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. 

“Excuse me, miss! Are you (Y/N)?”

Plastering my best fake smile on, I turned to the man who was speaking. 

“Yes! Oh- you’re the innkeeper. Thanks for letting me know that I wasn’t the only act tonight,” I grumbled, turning away and letting my smile fade into oblivion. 

“Oh, my apologies. I thought perhaps the two of you could play together? You must...not get along.”

My eyes trailed over to where Jaskier stood, with one foot on a chair and fingers strumming rapidly. He turned at the last second and saw me looking, and a flicker of the anger I seemed to bring out of him could be seen for just a moment. But ever the performer, he made it disappear as soon as it came. 

“Not in the slightest.”

It pained me to say it, truth be told. I wanted to get along with Jaskier. I wanted to get to know him and to be able to connect with him as a musician. But I guess destiny must have something else in store. 

“Well, will you play after him? There are quite a few people here tonight that were looking forward to your performance.”

My hand tightened around the old wooden mug and I stared into the bottom, searching the last drop of ale for an answer. With a sigh, I finally looked at the man. 

“Sure. Why not.”

He seemed appeased by my words, and left me with a small smile. I felt bad for snapping at him. He didn’t know. Ugh, I’m an ass I suppose. 

I sat in the same spot until a smiling Jaskier finished his performance with a bow and a wave. Could slap that grin clean off his face if I really wanted to. I really, really considered it up until the innkeeper called for me and the crowd began whistling. Then I had a better idea. 

A devilish grin spread across my lips as I took the front of the tavern with my violin. This might be fun after all. 

“Thank you so much everyone for the warm welcome! But I want to give a very special thank you to a particular someone,” I declared, looking around the room for Jaskier. Finally my gaze settled on him and we made eye contact. Even from the other end of the room, I could see him bristle when I shot him a grin. 

“Thank you Jaskier, from the bottom of my heart, for warming the crowd up for me. I really appreciate it!” 

The room erupted in cheers and a few laughs, but all I was focused on was the dark expression that now graced Jaskier’s features. He was seething, and I was living for it. 

In a swift, showy movement, I shed my cloak and took hold of my violin. My usual nerves that I have before performing were replaced by this sinister desire for revenge. It fired me up to no end. I had a feeling this would be my best performance yet. 

“So, I know you all just heard this song not long ago thanks to the opening act...but I don’t think you have heard it on a violin, or sung by the superior sex, hmm?”

The crowd looked around at each other with confused eyes and whispering lips, but Jaskier knew exactly what I was planning as soon as I finished speaking. All the color had drained from his face, and he tightened his hands so fiercely against his mug I thought it might break.  

“When a humble bard graced a ride along...” I began with a grin.

As soon as I finished that line, the crowd roared with excitement. I glanced around and saw people start to stand up and cheer, minus two men in the back. Jaskier and Geralt, obviously. But even Geralt had a smile on his face. I couldn’t say the same for Jaskier.

I decided to make my way through the crowd as Jaskier had done, twisting and turning between people, never getting too close, but just close enough so that they might feel like they could touch me. And eventually, I made it back over to where my second mug of ale still sat. I grabbed it, pausing just before the next line. 

But before I continued singing, I hurried over to where Jaskier still sat stewing in his hatred for me. The crowd was starting to get confused, but I knew they would love this. 

Quickly, I chugged most of the mug and slammed it down onto the table with a stomp of my foot, directly onto Jaskier’s toes. A string of colorful curse words escaped his lips at the same time I sang the next line with force:

“So pour him some ale!”

Thankfully, I don’t think anyone noticed the interaction between me and Jaskier because they were too busy cheering. It was all going according to plan. 

--------------

With a shove that seemed almost hard enough to break something, I left through the back door of the tavern. I couldn’t stay in there any longer. Not after she did that. Not while she’s looking like that...

I shook my head to get rid of any residual weird thoughts just as Geralt came through the door behind me. Great. Just what I need right now. 

“Jealous she sings your song better than you? Maybe I’ll bring her with me instead.” I could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke. 

I leaned against the building with crossed arms, making sure to conspicuously look away from Geralt so he would know that I don’t feel like talking. 

“Go ahead then.”

There was a moment of silence between us before he approached me, finally stepping into my view.

“What’s your problem with her anyway? She hasn’t done a thing to you. You don’t even know her name, do you?”

Come to think of it, I don’t know her name. Bollocks.

“Why do you care Geralt?”

“Call it curiosity.”

I sighed and pushed off of the building. Apparently we were going to do this now. 

“That day...before, you know, the first time we had been scheduled to play together. And I found out, it just...it angered me. I didn’t want to think that someone might be liked more than me...especially her. She’s breathtaking, so of course people will pay more attention to her rather than me. So, I’m jealous... Go ahead and laugh. I know you want to.”

“I’m not going to laugh. I just think you’re being ridiculous. You should apologize to her. Especially if you want any chance with her. I can hear your heart beat when you look at her. It’s not the beat of a hateful heart. Rather, an aroused one.”

Geralt smirked and I scoffed. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

--------------

I felt a bit better after leaving Geralt and returning to the inn. Until I saw that she was still performing. 

The way she moved around during her performance was like magic. She was so swift. There one second, and gone the next, the only sign of her being there in the first place the smell of her perfume. It was maddening. 

I slumped into my seat and chugged the last bit of my ale, trying to ignore the throbbing pain from my foot. Witch.

No. She wasn’t in the wrong. I was. But I would never admit it. 

Gods, what is wrong with me? 

My hands caught my head as I lowered it in defeat. I really did feel like an ass. I had let my emotions get the better of me. It was very unprofessional. Embarrassing even. 

The lack of music drew me out of my thoughts. It had gotten quiet again, with just the low voices of the patrons in the bar to listen to. Was her set over so soon? Where had she gone?

I looked around the room, and I didn’t have to look long. I saw her at the bar. She had been looking my way, but when I made eye contact, she turned away abruptly. 

I sighed. It was now or never, I suppose. I’m going to try my best to apologize.

Hesitantly, I stood and made my way over to her. Her back was to me, so I thought she didn’t see me coming. But to my surprise, she was the first one to speak. 

“Come to bother me again?”

A hot lick of anger sparked in my stomach, but I pushed it down. I’m trying to do the right thing here. I just had to remember that. 

“Can I sit?” I choked out, trying to keep my tone even.

She didn’t say anything, so I went ahead and sat on the stool to her right. Her focus stayed on her mug of ale the whole time. 

“Um...your set was over really quickly. Are you done already?”

She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. 

“Yeah, I didn’t feel like playing anymore. I used up all my energy. How’s your foot by the way?” she asked me with a smirk. 

“Well, it f-” I caught myself before I cursed and took a deep breath. “I’m sure you can imagine what it feels like. You got it pretty good with the heel of your shoe.”

A laugh escaped her. I’m sure it was unintentional, but it was a nice sound nonetheless. Gods. What is wrong with me? 

“You deserved it. Anyway, why are you even here talking to me? I’m riffraff, remember?”

Once again, I sighed. I was starting to get angry again. 

“I just wanted to come over and...you know...”

“I know what?” she said shortly. 

My heart sped up at her heated words. She is making this really hard. 

“I just wanted to-”

All of a sudden, she stood and glared at me. 

“Are you gonna say anything, darling, or just stand there and stare at me like an imbecile?”

That was it. I felt my already fragile resolve shatter, so I stood to meet her. I had to look down at her because of the height difference and it crossed my mind that it was almost adorable. Ew.

“You know what? I was trying to apologize to you, but I’m glad I couldn’t get the words out. I’m not sorry for being mean to you at all. The only thing I’m sorry for is wasting my time over here. You are...”

She took a step towards me, not letting my height scare her. 

“I’m what?” she hissed, face inches away from mine. 

“An insufferable bitch. And I hope I never see you again.”

In the silence that followed, I saw tears form in her eyes. That right there was enough to make me regret everything I had done and said to her. 

“Well, the feeling is mutual.”

Before I could even think, she pushed past me and was gone. 

Shit.

~

Weeks had passed since I last saw Jaskier. His last words to me had truly hurt. Did I really infuriate him so? Or was there something bigger bothering him? Whatever it was, I couldn’t afford to think about it if I valued my mental stability. 

I hadn’t realized I had been staring at the mug in my hands for so long. Until the bartender came over to me and asked if I needed a refill. He almost looked like he felt bad for me. 

I accepted a refill, but I couldn’t even take a sip. It tasted sour when I tried. I wasn’t in the mood to drink anymore, and neither was my body. 

After digging in my pockets for a few seconds, I fished out a few coins to pay the bartender. 

“The change is yours. I’m going to my room. On the off chance, that anyone asks for me, I’m not here, alright?”

Before he could respond, I made my way to my room up the stairs. The only thing I removed was my cloak, and that was only because it was soaking wet from the rain and I had no energy to remove anything else before falling into my bed. 

I’m not sure how long I laid there. Time was a funny thing, especially when you’re hurting. Tears stung my eyes and it reminded me of the last time I saw Jaskier. I hope he hadn’t noticed my tears then. 

Ever since then, I hadn’t played anywhere. I had no motivation, no desire anymore. Was this the end of my career? Would I ever want to play again?

“Ugh,” I groaned loudly before putting a pillow over my face in anger. 

Am I really letting him affect me like this? 

A quiet knock at the door grabbed my attention and pissed me off all in one go. 

“Who is it? I told that bartender I didn’t want any visitors. You best leave off now before I shove my violin where the sun doesn’t shine.”

There was a moment of silence. So silent it was almost loud. 

“It’s uhh...it’s Jaskier.”

I let that sink in for a moment, then I shook my head because I must have heard them wrong. 

“I’m sorry,” I laughed out angrily, “What?”

“It’s Jaskier. Please let me in.”

His voice sounded different than it did before. He sounded hurt and tired. Nothing at all like his loud and charismatic self. 

“Why should I? I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

“(Y/N), please.”

Something shifted inside of me when I heard him say my name. It was the first time I had heard it from his mouth. Truth be told, I didn’t even know he knew my name. It sounded...good. I wanted to hear it again.

Before responding, I stood and shuffled over to the door. I placed my hand on the old wood and scrunched my face in thought. Was he doing the same on the other side?

“How did you find out my name?”

“I’ve been looking for you since we last spoke. I...I have asked around at every inn and tavern this side of the Continent in hopes I could find you.”

Funny. He almost sounded...sincere. But I wouldn’t let my feelings be hurt again by his charming words. 

I swiftly flung the door open and glared at the man in front of me. But when I took in his whole person, I almost lost my drive to be angry. He was dripping wet from the rain. No cloak, no anything to keep him warm or dry. He looked like a puppy left in the streets. But no matter. I couldn’t let myself feel bad for him.

“I don’t care. I told you I never wanted to see you again and I meant it. Get lost.”

His eyes darkened as he looked at me. But he wasn’t really looking at me. It felt more like he was looking through me. 

“I’m not doing this again,” he growled, pushing past me into my room. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are, barging in here like that? Fuck off before I find a guard.”

Wordlessly, he turned to me and grabbed my shoulders, shoving me hard against the wall behind me.

“You piss me off beyond belief, you know that?”

I grabbed at his hands on me to try and escape, but it was no use. He had me tight in his grip. 

“Once again, the feeling is mutual. So why are you here? Just to tell me the same things over and over?”

He hissed as he gripped my shoulders tighter, almost to the point that it hurt. 

“I came to be a man and apologize. I’m trying to do the right thing.”

My nostrils flared as I looked at him with rage. 

“Get away from me,” I hissed.

“No.” 

Even though I no it wouldn’t work, I tried flailing my upper body around so he would lose his grip. If anything, it just made it worse. 

“That’s the thing. I can’t seem to stay away from you. Fate really is a rotten bitch sometimes, love.”

His words caught me off guard. But more than anything the look in his eyes did. They were so dark, and his pupils looked like they had been blown wide open. Veins stuck out from his forehead, accentuated by the raindrops that were still falling from his hair to his face. His arms were flexed to the max, causing his shirt to stretch against his muscles. And it was almost animalistic, the way he had his teeth bared at me. I had never seen someone so angry. 

But I had never been so aroused. 

“Why don’t you say what you’re really thinking, Jaskier? We both know what the problem is here.”

“Oh, yeah?” he growled, inching his face closer to mine. “And what would that be?”

I got even closer to him, almost resting my nose against his. 

“You don’t hate me. And I don’t hate you. We’ve never hated the other. You’re just mad because you let your performer’s jealousy get in the way of doing what you really want to me.”

He released his grip on my shoulders and instead wrapped one hand around my throat. Not hard enough to mess up my breathing, but just hard enough to feel good.

“You’re smart, aren’t you? But don’t pretend you’re not into me, too. I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.”

I smiled devilishly at him and crossed my arms, his hand still firmly around my throat. 

“Prove it.”

“Prove what?” he spat at me.

“You said you came here to be a man. Prove it.”

My voice was barely above a whisper, but I knew he heard me when his eyes widened. He wasn’t expecting that.

“And how do you propose I do that?”

Smiling, I sighed and let my eyes flutter shut.

“Fuck me like those whores you sing about in your songs.”

By the end of the night, it was safe to say we weren’t enemies anymore.

#jaskier #jaskier x reader #jaskier smut #jaskier angst #the witcher #witcher #geralt #geralt of rivia #fic #ficlet #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #smut #angst #blurb #series #prompt #julian #julian alfred pankratz #joey batey #joey #yennefer #ciri #ooc #oc #enemies #lovers #enemies to lovers #trope

[duuhrayliegh]

my hero - request

request: anon: hi could you write a sebastian x female reader fic where she suffers from anxiety and feels bad because of it but he comforts her and tells her there’s nothing wrong with her and how strong she is even though she has this disorder

pairing: sebastian stan x female!reader

warnings: self-esteem issues, anxiety, toxicity in the fandom, language?

a/n: hey nona! you weren’t super specific on what type of anxiety that you wanted to reader to have, so if this isn’t what you had in mind, lmk and i’ll write you another fic! other than that i hope you like it!

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

check out my m.list

You and Seb met at a coffee shop in New York. It was totally cliche and seemed straight out of a storybook. You had somehow managed to spill coffee on that specimen of a man, and he was kind enough to let you pay for his dry cleaning. Your relationship didn’t grow until you ran into him again while you were at a bar with your friends. If he had any say in telling the story of how you met, he spotted you from across the smoky bar and he knew then and there that he had to get to know you. Truthfully, you liked his version, but the real one was just indescribable. It seemed, to you at least, that you were destined to be with this man. Seeing him twice in one week? Come on, that’s possible if you were in the small town you grew up in, but not New York.

You obviously had recognized him as an actor, but really you didn’t care. That’s what drew Sebastian to you in the first place. You treated him as if he was any other guy on the street, he was able to be a normal person around you. Now, two years later, you lounge on the couch of your apartment in LA that you shared with the man you love. He’s still auditioning for any role that catches his eye and you’re supporting him no matter what.

His fans for the most part adored you and your relationship with Sebastian. The fans who didn’t like you were your only issue with this whole affair, but they had nothing to do with Sebastian other than flood his socials with nasty messages about you. You weren’t perfect, that you knew all too well, and you tried to let the comments roll off your shoulders. Most of the time you were successful in your efforts, but other times they clung to your skin like an unwanted disease.

Sebastian was currently promoting his new project Endings, Beginnings. You were so unbelievably proud of Seb, he was doing something that made him happy. In this particular film, he was acting alongside Shailene Woodley, who was just amazing. Seb always came home gushing about the new inside jokes that they had come up with. One of your favorite things that Seb did with you was run lines. You liked having the inside scoop on his new works, but this one was harder for you. It had quite a few sex scenes between Seb’s character Frank and Shailene’s Daphne.

Not that it bothered you. Nope. Didn’t bother you. At all.

...mmm, okay maybe it bugged you a little. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Sebastian, it was… well you couldn’t really describe what it was. Whatever the case may be, it was putting you deeper and deeper into a funk, one that you were having a hard time coming out of. And Seb’s fans who weren’t in your corner, weren’t really helping you any.

A few nights ago, Seb surprised you with a casual night out in LA. He texted you before he got home and told you that he was going to be taking you out. Did he give you a dress code for the evening? No, he did not (wonderful, thanks so much Seb). You decided to dress in a half business casual, half rail me when we get home outfit. You ended up wearing an adorable bustier top that was embroidered with pretty blue and pink flowers, a pair of destroyed jeans covered your legs. You finished it off with a pair of nude heels, when you looked in the mirror, you thought you looked hot as fuck. It was around seven when Seb picked you up, mouth hanging open, in awe of your outfit.

“Oh my god. You look so beautiful, Y/N.” He opened the passenger door of his car after he hugged you, giving you a small peck on the lips. Sebastian drove you to a restaurant a block off of Thai Town called Home Restaurant.

“Babe, this place is so cute!” You squeezed Sebastian’s upper arm, jumping up and down beside him. “How’d you find this place?” Sebastian shook his head, smiling at you.

“I asked Shai, actually.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, and your heart sank a little. Why did it do that? “She said that the paps hardly ever come around here.” He leaned down pressing a kiss to your temple. “I thought that draga mea deserved a quiet night out on the town.” His voice rasped as he spoke in his native tongue, making a shiver race down your spine.

“Well, tell her I said thank you.” You offered him a small smile. He wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing circles on the exposed skin above your jeans. He spoke with the hostess as your mind drifted away. You were pulled out of your thoughts when he guided you to your table. Sebastian sat across from you, staring deeply into your eyes. You brought your hand up to rest your chin on it, staring back at him. “How’s everything been going?” You were genuinely interested in the answer and it made your heart warm watching his face light up.

“It’s been going really well. Everyone we worked with was real nice, it made all the scenes more comfortable.” Seb’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the scenes and you knew which ones he was referring to.

“Oh, right.” You tried not to let your emotions show.

“Yeah, we’re about to start teasing some of them to promote the show.” Seb sighed at the thought of having to use social media, you shook your head at him.

“I’ll help you with it, you dork.” You laughed to hide your discomfort. “Which scene did they approve for the posts?” Sebastian began to speak when he was interrupted by your waitress. After the two of you ordered your food, the waitress returned with your drinks. Sebastian took a large gulp of his before answering your previous question.

“They want me to post the trailer and then the scene between Frank and Daphne at the bar.” You tried to think back to the script, remembering the context. Frank and Daphne were meeting after Daphne had gone out on a date with Jack. Daphne was claiming that she didn’t want to be a wedge in their friendship, then proceeded to make out with Frank. If you were recalling correctly, Frank and Daphne’s first sex scene followed soon after.

“Okay, we can do that. Do you have any behind the scene pictures you wanna post too?” Seb got out his phone, scrolling through his camera roll to see. He had several different photos of him with Jamie and then him with Shailene. He showed you his phone on a picture of Shailene leaned against him on a couch, her arm over his waist. A red filter colored the photo, you had to hand it to him, it was a good one to use. “We can post it whenever we get home, love.” Sebastian locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, to focus solely on you.

“How has your day been, draga mea?” You bit your lip as you thought about what you’ve been doing. You’ve been working towards your Master’s, so your days have been filled with preparing for your dissertation. On top of that, you’ve become a bit of an influencer on different social media platforms. Really, you believe your popularity came from your relationship with Sebastian. You’ve been giving his fans the content that they’ve always wanted. Not only that, but you’re active with them.

“My day was good today. I had to edit a few papers from my other classmates but other than that I didn’t do much. I did make a few TikTok videos, but really today was a bit of a lounge day for me.” Seb smiled at you, proud of how hard you’ve been working.

“I should be getting a few days off soon, so we can relax together in the apartment, if you aren’t too busy with your classes.” He stretched his arm across the table, palm up waiting for your hand. Seb pulled your hand up to his mouth, placing a sloppy kiss onto the back of it. His eyes settled on you lovingly. To Sebastian, you were the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

The two of you managed to finish your meal in peace. No fans came up to Sebastian asking for photos, no paparazzi swarms when you left, just a quiet meal for a normal couple in love. After you got home and you were snuggled in your pajamas alongside Sebastian in your comfortable bed, he handed you his phone to read over his post for his Instagram. The paragraph was sappy, about his time working with Drake, the director, and working with the rest of the cast. Seb always was a softy, never was able to hide it, especially in promo posts.

“It looks good to me. Are you going to post it now? Or wait until tomorrow morning?” Seb debated, he probably should wait and do it tomorrow, but he was most likely going to forget to do it. He clicked post, putting his phone on charge and snuggling into you.

“Thank you for always being there for me, Y/N.” He kissed your jawline, nuzzling his face into your neck. “It really means a lot to me, baby. I love you so much.” He wrapped both hands around your waist, pulling you to his front. You smiled wide, momentarily forgetting all of your troubles.

“I love you too, Seb.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s get some sleep, love.” Little did you know that a single post could ruin all of the progress that you thought you had made.

*********************

You woke the next morning, alone in bed. You could hear pots clanging in the kitchen of your home, bringing a smile to your face. Before you left the safety of your bed, you checked your socials out of habit. You opened Instagram first, seeing an absurd amount of notifications this early in the morning. Your smile dropped as soon as you opened the first post. Comments on Sebastian’s post about Endings, Beginnings and his chemistry with Shailene weren’t entirely out of the ordinary. They were to be expected, they were playing parts in a love triangle. People were ‘shipping’ Shailene with Seb and Jamie, so that wasn’t too crazy.

What hurt you were the comments saying, “living for shailene and sebastian! she’s a much better match for him than y/n.”

“never thought that y/n girl was going to last, glad he’s going w shailene”

“shailene and seb supremacy”

“yes! i’ve always supported seb in everything he’s done, but i rlly questioned him when he got w that y/n girl. what was he thinking?!”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you continued scrolling. You never thought you and Sebastian never fit. You knew that people had issues with your relationship, but you never let it get in your head this bad. You checked your explore page, pictures of you and Sebastian from last night were riddling the page.

Your heart dropped.

There were pictures of the two of you from last night with parts of your body circled. The exposed skin above your waistband, the excess skin on your neck and arms. You don’t know where they got these pictures, but your stomach was steadily sinking with each picture you saw. The door of your room opened, revealing a smiley Sebastian with a plate full of eggs in one hand and a cup of orange juice in the other.

“Good morning, baby.” You quickly shoved your phone away from you, wiping your tears away from your eyes to meet his. His brows furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You snuffled quietly, before answering.

“Uh, nothing. I’m just so proud of you.” You smiled at him, not wanting to bring down his already happy mood with your problems. Was that entirely healthy? Probably not, but you were doing it anyway, consequences be damned.

“Oh, well you don’t have to cry for me, Y/N. Even if you’re proud.” He walked up to your side of the bed, placing the cup and plate on your nightstand. He brought his hand up to your cheeks, wiping away your tear streaks. “You know that I only like to see tears whenever it’s me causing you so much pleasure you beg me to stop.” He winked at you, smirking at your rising blush. To say that didn’t lift your spirits for about half a second would be a lie. Sebastian brought the plate to your lap, waiting for you to start eating. At this particular moment, after seeing all those horrible pictures of your body, your appetite had gone out the window, but he was so smiley.

“After you eat, I want ya to shower.” Sebastian’s hand came up to your jaw, cupping it as you used it to chew the eggs. “We’ve got a long day of lounging and enjoying each other's company ahead of us.” Sebastian stood from the bed, throwing a wink at you as he left the room dramatically. You stopped eating soon after he left, the food tasting like ash on your tongue. At some point, you got into the bathroom, staring at the reflection in the mirror.

Your phone was in your hand again. The pictures flooding your Twitter feed. Shaky breaths left your mouth as you watched your reflection tilt its head. Tears began gathering in your eyes as it felt like you weren’t in your own skin anymore. You had worked so hard to be comfortable in your own body.

It’s amazing how just one picture can ruin everything.

You leaned forward on the countertop, hands holding up your weight. You shifted towards the mirror, examining every miniscule detail that your eyes could see. Your lids came down quickly, tears dragging down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes closed, shaking your head back and forth.

“You are not going to let this get to you.” You took a few deep breaths as you turned on the shower. Not wanting to be around the mirror anymore, you kept your bath short, talking to yourself the whole time. By the time you left the bathroom, it was steamed completely, you couldn’t see your reflection even if you wanted to.

“He loves you.” You had a mantra and you continued to repeat it as you walked into your shared closet. “He loves all of you.” You pulled one of his old t-shirts off a hanger. “Sebastian loves you.” A pair of your underwear and his loose boxers covered your lower half. “Sebastian loves all of you.” You shoved your feet into a pair of fuzzy pink socks, leaving the closet still muttering to yourself. You tucked your phone into your waistband after checking your socials again. You know you shouldn’t have, but there was some part of you that just wouldn’t let you not.

The same shit covered your For You page on TikTok. Videos from the trailer of Seb and Shailene and then videos of you and Seb, comparing the two relationships. “They do fit well together.” You thought to yourself. A part of you wondering why Seb was with you in the first place.

“Did you say something, love?” Sebastian looked at you from the couch. A blanket was strewn over his lower half, his upper body inviting, waiting for you to join him. His smile dropped when he took in your glassy eyes instead of your usual happy expression.

“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” He started towards you, eyes running over your body for any outward injuries. An understanding look crossed his face when he saw your phone clutched in your hand. “Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Sebastian’s hands rested on your shoulders, lightly caressing your biceps. You recoiled from his touch, feeling uncomfortable in your own body.

“Just some stuff that some fans posted.” Seb’s thumb traced just under your eye, wiping away the tears. He held his right hand out for your phone, to understand what you were talking about. His brows furrowed deeply as he scrolled, not fully processing how destructive his fans could be. Sebastian always believed that they were the best fucking people in the world. He knew that they could be mean, but this was something else.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about, Y/N.” Sebastian’s voice was firm. It was almost strong enough to cut through the fog invading your brain, but not quite. You had officially zoned out. Dead to the world. Lost in your own thoughts. No matter how destructive those thoughts may be.

Sebastian noticed that you were already too deep, having experienced this with you many times before. He was aware that you were self-conscious, insecure, however you want to describe it. Your anxiety always got worse when you were stressed. Prepping for your dissertation was definitely a stressful time. Add on top of that, Sebastian was constantly pulling you from your work for various reasons. Had he contributed to this? Scratch that thought, he didn’t have time for that. He needed to bring you back down to Earth, back to him.

“Y/N.” His hands hovered over your hips. “I’m going to touch you for a second.” He directed you to the couch, settling on the coffee table in front of you. His fingers lightly traced circles onto your knees, as he assessed how he should approach this.

“Y/N. Baby?” Sebastian hesitated before bringing his fingers up to your chin, not wanting you to react badly. “I’m right here, Y/N, it’s Sebastian.” His left hand hadn’t left your knee, continuing to trace small patterns into your skin, giving you something to ground yourself with. He watched you blink and swallow harshly, inhaling sharply before opening your mouth.

“Why are you with me?” Your chin trembled with unvoiced sobs. “You deserve the world, Seb. I’m not even--” Your sentence was cut off by a loud whimper causing tears to start streak down. Sebastian wasn’t sure if this was a situation where you wanted him to be involved, so he waited for a sign.

“I’m not even worth a glance from you.” Your hand came up to wipe at your runny nose. “They’re so right. You need to be with someone like Shailene.” A bitter sob racked your body, making your body fold in half. Sebastian caught you before you hurt yourself.

“Y/N. I love you.” He always heard you say that to yourself when you thought he wasn’t listening. He knew that you suffered from anxiety, so he was always watching. Always paying attention to your little cues. The little things that he could use to help you as much as he could. “I love all of you.” He held one of your hands, running his thumb over the back of it.

“I don’t care what they say, baby.” He lifted your face to his, steel blue eyes locking with your cloudy pair. “I picked you.” He pecked your right cheek. “I want you.” A peck to your left. “I want only you.” One to your forehead. “It’s always been you, Y/N.” Another on your chin. “I love all of you, Y/N.” Sebastian landed a final short kiss to your lips, lingering for only a second.

“I want you to understand something, Y/N.” His gaze never left you. “I’m not going anywhere.” His brows raised as he hardened his voice. “I’m especially not going anywhere at the behest of my fans. I love them to death, but they don’t get to decide who I love.” Sebastian shifted to sit next to you on the couch. “Is it okay if I put my arms around you?” All he got was a brief nod in return, which was expected.

“I’m yours, Y/N. As much as you’re mine.” His arms descended around you, wrapping you in a loving embrace. You turned to face him fully, bringing your own arms around his waist, shoving your head into his neck.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with all my shit, Seb.” Sebastian almost missed your comment because you spoke into his shoulder and through loud snuffles. He backed away to look you in the face.

“I signed up for this, Y/N. I’m here for whatever we go through.” He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “We go through ‘your shit’ together, Y/N. This is a partnership, a two-way street.” He looked at the weak smile on your face, heart warming slightly at the sight. His face turned serious, casting a glance at your phone on the coffee table.

“How long have you been sitting on this?” He knew how quickly your mind could twist things, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. You bit your lip, not meeting his eyes anymore.

“Just since this morning.” He held you away from his body, watching your expression.

“Is this why you were crying earlier?” You gave him a meek nod in response. “Baby, I thought we talked about this. We have to talk to each other when we think we’re going to go into a funk.” The two of you had talked about it before, but you didn’t think this was going to be a funk.

“I should’ve been able to just shake this off because I know you love me and you won’t leave me because of something that some people on the Internet say.” The words left your mouth before you could process everything, your mind quick to defend itself.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You don’t always have to be able to shake something off. We just have to keep each other in the loop.” Sebastian looked over your tear-stained face, pressing a kiss to your forehead again. “Let’s ditch the phones today. Just spend the day in each other’s arms, how’s that sound?” You smiled softly, nodding at the man in front of you. He got up quickly hiding both of your phones in the kitchen somewhere.

This definitely wasn’t a solution to dealing with your anxiety, Sebastian knew that. It also wasn’t dealing with the toxic people on the Internet, but you didn’t need that right now. You needed to be immersed in an environment that accepted what you were going through without judgement, Sebastian could provide that. Seb hummed happily when you snuggled into his side under the covers on your couch while he searched for a movie. He kissed the top of your head and he felt you smile against his stomach.

“I’m proud of you, draga mea.” You turned to face him, a confused expression lacing your features.

“For what, Seb?” He stroked your face with a single finger, mapping out your features.

“I’m proud of how you handle yourself. I’m amazed at how strong you are, even when you think you’re not.” He leaned closer to you, whispering his next words. “You’re my hero.” One corner of your mouth twitched upwards, not wanting to accept it. You rolled your eyes playfully, settling back onto his stomach before speaking.

“I love you, Sebastian.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian x reader #sebastian x you #sebastian x y/n #sebastian stan x yn #sebastian x yn #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fan fic #sebastian stan fan fiction #sebastian fanfic #sebastian fanfiction #sebastian fan fic #sebastian fan fiction #seb stan #seb stan x reader #seb stan x you #seb stan x y/n #seb stan x yn #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x female!reader #seb stan x female!reader

[selfawarejester]

So, someone requested a fic where Blue Team rescues a Child!Reader from a war zone, but unfortunately Tumblr ate the ask. If you’re the one who requested it, please enjoy!

EDIT: found a screenshot! @simp-for-fictional-men-only, hope you like this!

Blue Team x Child!Reader (Halo)

It’s been a long “day”, even by Spartan standards.

Blue Team had been trying to repel Covenant forces on an Outer Colonies planet for over a week… but it hadn’t been enough. Command had called an evacuation, and after destroying a base to help the efforts, Blue Team had been ordered to help with final evacuation calls in the nearest town.

On the Pelican ride to town, there was a brief moment where they thought it was a waste of resources to send Spartans for an evacuation op, especially because the other Spartan teams were still doing the best they could to strike back at the Covenant; not necessarily to stop them anymore, just to hold them back long enough for the civilians to escape and maybe a little revenge. The events of the week, coupled with the guilt of their brothers and sisters still risking their lives, weighed on them heavily.

But at the end of the day, they’re glad they did: they found a group in the Rec center, a dozen people in the boroughs, twenty in an apartment complex — the Marines wouldn’t have been able to lift most of the wreckage that blocked them from escaping.

By the time they’d gotten to the outskirts of town, Blue Team had been left alone to sweep through the dead town. Chief considered just going to meet up with the Marines — surely, they could match the pace of the overloaded Troop Transports — and this area was just dilapidated factories and shady looking establishments that had long since been stampeded.

But a need to fulfil his task to completion stayed his hand… and thank god it did.

At first, it was just soft sniffles that sounded from the inside of the rundown factory. Chief and Kelly, who’d partnered up to search this side of the district, thought it was one of the many Jackals that had been posted in the previous sector wandering, or a Grunt that had been left behind after the Jackals had entertained themselves (in which case, they should probably put the thing out of its misery), so they go inside.

Chief goes first, moving carefully through the debris so as to not dislodge the wreckage, or disturb the corpses of the few soldiers and more civilians. He retrieves their dog tags, securing them in one of the compartments of the MJOLNIR, and Kelly follows, stepping where he does.

Slowly, the sound becomes louder and louder, wheezing and snotty sobbing. Definitely an injured Grunt, he thinks. It’s coming from under a slab of concrete propped up against a wall. Kelly flanks to the right, while Chief goes to the left. He signals that he’ll lift it on the count of three, and grips the edge of the slab. When the slab gets tossed aside, Kelly raises her shotgun, pointing directly at the small figure.

You shriek and bury your head in your knees, pulled up to your chest. You couldn’t believe that after all the gross, awful things you’d had to sit through, holed up in this corner, you were just going to die.

But when nothing happens for a solid five seconds, you chance a peek over your knees and gasp. S-117 and S-087 are emblazoned across the chests of the armored giants… Spartans.

Kelly and Chief exchange confused gazes, having no idea how to deal with children. The last ones they’d had any interaction with was the Castoffs on Netherop, but they were more feral gremlins than they had been children.

(Kelly and Fred still aren’t entirely sure that the whole incident wasn’t a heat-induced hallucination.)

John really doesn’t want to go through another episode like it, but on the other hand, it would be easier if you were pelting rocks at them.

Kelly, being the more personable of the two, kneels to your height (or as close as a Spartan could get) and softly calls. “You don’t have to be scared. We’re here to help.”

You knew that — they were Spartans! The greatest heroes Humanity ever possessed! You were just shocked that you were getting rescued by them.

“Y-you’re Spartans.” You whisper dumbly, but you couldn’t help it! How are you supposed to be cool when you grew up with Master Chief’s action figure on your nightstand. “Like Master Chief.”

You can’t see it, but John can sense Kelly’s smirk as she looks over at him and points. “Well, that’s the man himself.”

* Oh no. By the way your wet, moved eyes stare up at him, it seems you’re a fan.

OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!!! You hope your pterodactyl screeching wasn’t external.

“Whoa.” This couldn’t be real. You’d passed out from exhaustion, and were dreaming all of this. That could be the only possibility!

John knows that this is the part where he says something witty or inspiring… but he really doesn’t know what to say, so he just awkwardly clears his throat. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head violently, a burning need to not disappoint your childhood hero, and clamber up to your feet… only to wince and lean against the wall, something sticky on your leg.

Now that you’re standing, he can see the dried blood around your ankle. “Hold still!” All the softness is gone from Kelly’s tone as she works on bandaging you up, but you don’t mind, appreciating how careful she’s being.

Co-ordinating with Linda, who informs him that there are patrols scouting the areas — probably only to get any survivors, and not to catch them, but they should still move — and Fred, who tells him that the convoy is flying off-planet via Pelicans in half an hour, John makes some quick calculations.

With the pace you’d set, hobbling alongside Kelly, whimpering every time you put your weight on your left foot, it would take them at least an hour. Too long.

“Whoa…” The sound comes unbidden from Fred when Kelly emerges, with you clutching at her hip, all bloody and dirty. A pang of sympathy strikes as he looks around and realizes all that you must have seen. He was well aware that normal children weren’t nearly as resilient as he and his siblings had been.

“….” He stays silent as you arrive in front of him, staring up at him with slight apprehension, heart racing as he tries to think of something to say — and for some reason, he lands on an awkward, weirdly Southern-sounding. “Hey champ!”

John and Kelly both shoot him weird looks, and he wants to dig a hole and die, when they hear it.

A small giggle falls from your lips, tiny hands covering your mouth as you try not to laugh. Fred sighs in relief, but his anxiety returns when Kelly’s joking voice comes over the comms saying “Well, I guess we know who’s taking care of them.”

Linda drops out of nowhere, and nearly scares you to death as you shriek and bump into John, holding his leg tightly. You don’t really notice how he freezes, confused again.

“…sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry, you think with a pout and drop from Chief’s leg, careful of your own busted ankle.

“That’s Linda, that’s Fred and I’m Kelly. You can just call him Chief. What’s your name?”

“Y-Y/N.”

“Alright. We won’t be able to make it if you’re walking, so you need to get on one of our backs.” Chief tells you, straight to business. “Which one of us do you feel comfortable with?”

He’s really hoping you pick Kelly or Fred. It wouldn’t exactly be a burden, you’re much tinier than the full grown people he’s had to carry out of a war zone, and you’re handling it much better as well, even though you’re barely ten years old.

“Um…” You look shyly up at Fred. “If you don’t really mind…”

*Aw. That’s… actually kind of sweet. Fred beckons you over, and hoists you up between his shoulders, giving you the rundown on what to do if people start shooting, and to hold on tight when he tells you to.

*You’re much more considerate than the freaked out VIPs he’s had to extract. But he still feels you twitch every time the wind causes something to clatter, so he decides to strike up conversation.

“So how did you wind up there?” It’s not until afterwards that he realizes that, unlike soldiers, civilians aren’t comfortable discussing stuff like that. But you answer that it was your dad’s factory, explaining that it was Bring Your Kid To Work Day.

The Spartans, specifically Kelly, asked you questions about it, having never heard of it themselves. After all, military settings rarely allowed such breaches of protocol.

You only trailed off as you got to the part where he told you to hide, and Fred lets it be.

When you finally get to the convoy, a nurse hurriedly tries to pull you away from the Spartans to help out, apologizing for not doing it sooner when Fred tells her it’s fine and that you can stay. After all, Kelly had fixed you up well, and you seemed terrified at the prospect of being left alone.

All that was left to do was fly up to the ship in outer orbit, with the rest of the survivors. Since there were such few Pelicans, everyone had been crammed into them, military and civilians alike. You’d simply wandered onto the one they’d been on, sandwiched between Chief and Fred.

Chief watches you picking at your shorts, and suddenly remembers the chocolate bar Sgt. Johnson keeps giving him - “you’re not yourself when you’re hungry, Chief” He’d snicker and then leave, Chief just standing there, not understanding the reference - but hey, chocolate was chocolate.

“Here. You did well.” Your eyes go wide, and for a second he thinks you’re going to refuse, but then you snatch it out of his hand and snarf it down. This is how it must feel to watch him eat.

“You’re going to like it up there.” Fred chimes in when your gaze starts getting distant again. “Space is really cool.”

In a twist of fate, you find one of your best friends when you arrive on the ship. Their parents promise to take care of you, and thank the Spartans.

When they start directing the survivors to their quarters, you hug every Spartan, even Linda… or their legs, since you couldn’t reach anything else. (Thankfully, you telegraph it pretty well, so they don’t accidentally smack you or something.)

John just stiffens and then nods, Fred pats you on the head awkwardly and shuffles away (he was very shocked by the affection), Kelly laughs and claps you on the shoulder, and Linda just hums and pets you on the head like a dog, walking away afterwards.

You go on to be a Marine yourself, finding yourself on the Halo campaign, where Chief and Cortana save you once more. You’re surprised he still remembers you.

You leave a bar of the same brand he gave you at his shrine, giving a heartfelt eulogy and catching up momentarily with the other members of Blue Team before you all leave again.

You almost faint when he shows up at Requiem, though. Don’t feel bad, as Lasky fanboys behind Chief for the whole campaign.

Palmer corrals you and Lasky into a break room to make fun of your behavior after it’s all over.

#halo #fred 104 #john 117 #kelly 087 #linda 058 #halo x reader #fred 104 x reader #john 117 x reader #kelly 087 x reader #linda 058 x reader #hope I got all their characters right! #I’ll add a read more later

[flightfoot]

Friendship and Uncertainty

AO3 Thanks to @oblivionhold for betaing!

Marinette really didn't have a lot of great options in Prime Queen. She couldn't tell Nadja and her parents "Oh yeah, sorry, I double-booked myself as Ladybug, my bad! Guess my parents are gonna have to babysit instead!" And if she'd tried to make up an excuse about being busy, with how last-minute it was and how urgently Nadja needed childcare, I don't think her parents would've accepted it.

Her only viable alternative option would've been to cancel her interview with Nadja at the last-minute, citing some last-minute conflict with her civilian schedule. She could've transformed during a bathroom break, texted Chat, and told him as much, leaving him to interview with Nadja alone. I'd argue that this would've been the most responsible option, but not necessarily the best one. With how much the network was pressuring her, Nadja may have landed in hot water if she couldn't get one of her guests on, and Chat would've been disappointed as well.

The plan Marinette came up with in canon was her best shot at fulfilling all her responsibilities without anyone being mad or disappointed or hung out to dry. Manon got looked after by someone Marinette knew was a good babysitter, she got to go to the interview, and no one would have any clue things were remiss... at least, that was her plan. In canon, things got dicey for a bit with Alya calling into the show, but ultimately no one discovered Marinette had left the premises, and everyone was mostly happy.

But it was risky, and things could easily have gone wrong. Hence, this story.

It gives me a good reason to explore Alya feeling hurt and exploring her emotions while sticking closely to canon. There aren't a lot of fics that do that.

--------

“Where is she?” 

Alya looked down at Manon. Nadja was worried about Marinette not being in the picture when she called, and she couldn’t blame her. Bringing over a friend to help babysit as well, or taking over babysitting momentarily while the hired babysitter was busy was one thing, but this was getting ridiculous.

Marinette had seemed weirdly anxious about talking to her parents. She’d chalked it up to Marinette being nervous about whatever she’d needed to tell them, but…

She let out a frustrated sigh. Marinette hadn’t even told her why she needed to talk to them so urgently. It almost felt like she was making up an excuse to ditch her with Manon.

“Marinette wouldn’t do that,” Alya murmured to herself. “She’d tell me if she needed me to cover for her, right?”

But the thought wouldn’t leave her brain.

Manon yawned.

Gears turned in Alya’s head. “Hey Manon, before you fall asleep, how about we go downstairs so you can use the bathroom?”

“I’m not gonna fall asleep!” Manon said, yawning again. But she stood up shakily and headed for the stairs, following Alya.

-----

As Alya waited for Manon to finish in the bathroom near the kitchen, she heard a soft humming coming from the kitchen. Seizing on the opportunity, she hurried over (while keeping near enough that she could still hear when Manon opened the bathroom door).

“Ah, Alya!” Tom greeted her. “Did you kids need some snacks?”

“No, but-” Oh what the hell, why not? “Actually, that sounds great.”

“Anything for my daughter! And her friends of course,” he said, cheerily grabbing a few of hers and Marinette’s favorite cookies. 

“Speaking of Marinette, what’d she want to talk to you about?” she said, as casually as she could manage.

“She wanted to talk to me about something?” Tom asked, sounding perplexed.

“Maybe I just misheard her,” Alya said hastily. “I was playing with Manon and things got a little loud.”

Tom looked troubled. “Well, just let her know that if she needs to talk to me about anything, her papa is always willing to lend an ear.” She could almost see a lightbulb turn on above Tom’s head. “Oh! I’ve got a batch of Marinette’s favorite cookies in the oven right now! They should be ready in about twenty minutes. If you can send her down then, we can talk this out, see what’s troubling her! And if it was a mistake, well, I’ll never say no to watching her face when she bites into a strawberry macaron.”

Alya slapped on a smile. “Will do!”

The toilet flushed. 

“That’s my cue to leave. Thanks, Mr. Dupain!”

“Anytime!”

She walked to the bathroom on autopilot.

Marinette had lied.

------

“I’m so sorry Alya! I had no idea it would take so long to talk to my parents!” 

Alya didn’t look at her. “What did you guys talk about?” she asked tonelessly.

“Uh, you know… family stuff,” Marinette sounded nervous. 

Alya turned to her. “Marinette, I know you weren’t with your parents.”

“I- uh-”

“I went downstairs earlier and asked your dad what you two talked about, but he said he didn’t talk to you at all. Your dad wanted me to tell you that if you need to talk with him about anything, he’s willing to lend an ear. The batch of strawberry macarons he was making should be ready by now.” Her voice sounded dead, even to her own ears.

“Alya, I’m- I’m really sorry-”

She took a deep breath. “I’m not ready to talk with you about it right now,” she said evenly. “If I do, I might raise my voice, and I don’t want Manon to see us fighting.”

Marinette winced, glancing at the sleeping girl.

“Um… could we talk tomorrow…?” Marinette asked, sounding small. 

Alya nodded stiffly. Not like she could avoid it, tomorrow was a school day. 

As she headed down the ladder, she paused and looked up, “Oh, and Marinette?”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t let anyone know you left. I’m still not happy you ditched me, but I didn’t rat you out.”

Marinette’s eyes widened and she started to stammer something. Alya shut the hatch.

Alya squeezed her eyes tight, letting out a small sob.

At that last moment, she’d been tempted to stay. To hear Marinette out. To see whether maybe, maybe, she had a good explanation. Some sort of excuse.

But she couldn’t.

If she stayed, with Marinette looking at her like that, clearly hurting… she wouldn’t be able to stay mad at her. Not when she felt worse than Alya herself did.

Alya wasn’t ready to let go of her anger and hurt yet. Not so soon.

Pausing only to text Nora that she was heading home, she hurried out the door.

------

“Little sis?”

Alya quickly wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself before Nora saw her.

It didn’t work.

“What happened? Who hurt you?” Nora asked, grabbing her shoulders. 

“No one!”

Even to her own ears, it sounded false.

Nora frowned. “Really? Your eyes are red, and I can see the tear streaks on your cheeks. You really expect me to believe that?”

She looked away.

“Hey, look, little sis-” Nora said softly.

“Don’t call me that.” She couldn’t muster up the energy to put any heat behind her words. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Promise not to go after her?”

Nora blinked. “Her? ...wait, you were just at Baguette’s place- did something happen with Marinette?”

“Promise me,” she insisted.

Nora grimaced, before sighing. “Fiiiiine. Can I at least yell at her?”

“No. I want to handle this myself.”

“If you’re sure, little sis.”

Alya made a face, but explained what’d happened. How Marinette had called her over, ditched her with an excuse about her parents, how she’d learned Marinette was lying, everything.

“-and I just. I don’t understand why,” she finished. “I help her out all the time! Heck, I’ve even helped babysit Manon before! Why’d she lie to me?” She looked down at her lap, her fists tightening as she squeezed her pants legs, needing to get energy out. “I just- I feel used.”

Nora pulled her into a tight hug. She leaned into the pressure, listening to her sister’s heartbeat.

“Remember back in Martinique, with Maya?” Alya murmured.

“The neighbor girl?”

Alya nodded. “We played together a lot when I was a little. But sometimes… sometimes she’d get demanding, saying that if I didn’t do what she wanted - play some game she wanted, pick a role she wanted me to, whatever - she’d say that if I didn’t do it, she wouldn’t be friends with me anymore. There weren’t a lot of other kids my age in the area, so I agreed.” She gave a small smile. “Until one time she went too far. I stormed home in tears, scared that she wouldn’t play with me anymore, but not able to take it anymore.” Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, she continued. “You know what Mom did when she heard? When I told her how afraid I was that Maya wouldn’t want to play with me anymore? She told me to just wait. Less than an hour later Maya was knocking at the door, asking if I would come out to play. I stopped being afraid of her threat after that, and she stopped using it. I could say no.”

“I’m guessing this feels similar?” Nora said.

Alya nodded. “But it’s also weird! With Maya I understood what she was after. With Marinette, I don’t. Did she just really not want to babysit? Where’d she even go? And why-” Alya hesitated. “Why did she risk this? What was so important? Marinette, she- she doesn’t always think through other people’s feelings, but she DOES care about people! She doesn’t like hurting others! So why-”

Nora shook her head. “It’s no use speculating, you’ll just get your head turning ‘round and ‘round in circles ‘til you don’t know up from down. Just ask her tomorrow.”

Biting her lip, Alya sighed. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I just don’t know how I’ll sleep tonight after all this.”

Nora smiled, pulling out a DVD from… okay she really wanted to know when Nora had hollowed out a copy of the Lord of the Rings trilogy collection, because on the one hand that was SUPER cool, and on the other hand it physically hurt her to see a book damaged like that. 

“I was saving this for your birthday,” Nora said, oblivious to Alya’s crisis, “But I think you need it now.”

She looked at the movie, letting out an inhumanly high-pitched squeal. “Majestia’s Early Days - Collector’s Edition?! How’d you even get this? I camped out on the website all day trying to snag a copy! They sold out in seconds,” she scowled, “Damn scalpers.”

Nora laughed. “Having fans can really come in handy. After one of my matches, I mentioned how bummed out my little sis was about not being able to get her hands on a copy. The next day one of my regular fans handed this to me, said he hoped you’d enjoy it.”

“If you see him again, tell him that he’s a wonderful person with excellent taste in boxers!”

Nora laughed, grinning from ear-to-ear. Alya bet her own grin dwarfed even Nora’s. 

“Let’s watch Majestia kick some ass.”

-----

“Alya? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” 

Nino lifted an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring down at the floor for the past minute, looking like your dogs just got kidnapped by subterranean monsters and you’re trying to figure out how to get them back and why they’d want them in the first place.”

She stifled a laugh. “You come up with that for one of your movie scripts?”

He adjusted his cap, grinning proudly. “No, but now that you mention it…”

“Do you even know anyone with a dog?”

“Maybe a shelter would help out? They’re always looking for more exposure. We could put a note during the credits that the pups are available for adoption!”

Hm… she could advertise their film on her blog too, maybe ask whether any of her readers worked at a local dog shelter…

“We could talk to Marinette, see whether she’d be up for making a monster costume! Or if she’s too busy, Halloween’s coming up and- Alya?”

She blinked, only just now noticing how tightly she’d been squeezing her shirt in her hands. “I’m- I’m fine.”

Nino frowned. “No, you’re not.”

She looked away. 

Nino slid into the seat next to her. “Look. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s clearly hurting you. If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand. If you just want to go back to talking about something unrelated to it, something fun, to keep your mind off it, I’m happy to oblige. But I’m always here to lend an ear if you need it.”

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Marinette called me over last night, wanted me to watch the Ladybug and Chat Noir interview with her. She also happened to be babysitting Manon, and thought it’d be more fun if we were all there together. Everything was fine at first,” she said, fidgeting. “I played around with Manon for a bit, Marinette got some pillows to lay on, and we got set up to watch the interview. Then Marinette said she needed to talk to her parents and that she might be gone for a while.”

She let out a humorless chuckle. “I waited for a while, but… no Marinette. Finally, I went downstairs and checked with her dad. He didn’t know anything about it. As far as he knew, she’d been upstairs in her room with me the entire time. Marinette came back a little while later, pretending that her talk with her parents had gone super long and I just… I couldn’t deal with it. I left. I said I’d talk with her about it today, but…”

“But you don’t feel ready now either?” Nino guessed.

She nodded. “I just keep on turning it around and around in my head. It doesn’t make sense. Sure, Marinette makes up excuses and disappears sometimes, but…” Something niggled in the back of her brain. “Hey Nino,” she asked carefully, trying to catch the strand of thought. “Has Marinette always been like this? Running off at a moment’s notice with fake-sounding reasons?”

Nino scratched his head. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “We’ve been in classes before, but we weren’t exactly close. I don’t think so? I think I would’ve noticed that. Not like we had akuma attacks distracting us last year.”

“Akuma attacks...” she murmured to herself.

There it was again. That niggling sensation, but even stronger this time. 

*Slam*

Marinette threw the classroom door open, pinwheeling her arms as she struggled to regain her balance. 

“AAAAAAH-”

At the last second as she fell backwards, Adrien seemed to almost teleport through the door, catching her.

Nino smiled. “I swear Adrien has a ‘Marinette falling’ sense. He always arrives just in time to catch her.”

Alya snorted. “Now if only he had a ‘Marinette feeling’ sense.”

Frowning, Alya tried to grasp onto the threads of thought from before, but they’d scampered with the distraction. 

“...Can I sit here?” a soft voice asked.

Alya jumped a little, then scolded herself. She’d just seen Marinette arrive, she shouldn’t be able to startle her less than a minute later.

Nino got up slowly, giving Marinette a hard look, but moving to his regular seat without comment.

Marinette didn’t move. 

Oh. Marinette was waiting for her permission, not just for Nino to leave.

“Sure. I mean, you sat here first,” Alya said. “I’m not the Queen of Seats.”

Marinette snorted at the reference, the edges of her mouth twitching upwards.

Alya narrowed her eyes. She hadn’t noticed before, but from this close, she could see the bags under eyes, along with a slight puffiness.

Guilt settled in her stomach. She was pretty sure she knew why Marinette wouldn’t have gotten enough sleep, why she would’ve been crying.

“But she broke my trust!” part of her screamed. “She lied to me, used me!”

She still didn’t like seeing her friend hurt.

“So?” She asked as Marinette slid into her seat.

“So what?” Marinette asked nervously.

Alya narrowed her eyes. 

Marinette bit her lip. “I- I’m not sure what to say. I- I lied to you. You’re right. I called you over because I’d accidentally double-booked myself, but I couldn’t just TELL Nadja that and I couldn’t cancel on no notice, so I just… came up with what I thought was the best solution. Manon would get taken care of, Nadja, Mom, and Dad wouldn’t know anything unusual had happened, and I’d be back before you noticed anything was wrong. Everyone would be happy! At least, that’s what I planned…” she petered off, looking away.

She could get what Marinette was thinking now, when she called her over. Sometimes you couldn’t do the things you wanted without disappointing someone, without someone being upset with you. But if you lined things up just right, you might not need to upset anyone - so long as they never found out what you’d done. 

It still stung that Alya had been the tool she used to solve her problem, but at least she understood Marinette’s thought process. 

“What was so important?” she asked. “What was so vital that you had to sneak out, even if it meant lying to your friends and family?”

Marinette flinched. “I- I have to,” she whispered. “I don’t have a choice.”

Alarm bells rang in Alya’s head. “What do you mean?” she said urgently. “Is someone threatening you? Marinette, are you in danger?”

“No!” She thought for a moment. “Yes? Kind of? Not- not the way you’re thinking of!” she added hastily.

She didn’t know what she was thinking. Drugs? Gangs? A cult that’d ensnared Marinette in its clutches?

“Can I have your attention please?” Ms. Bustier said.

Alya turned to the front of the class, head still spinning. She still wasn’t totally sure how she felt about what Marinette had done, but she had bigger worries.

Something was wrong with Marinette. 

-----

That girl could be slippery when she wanted to be. 

She managed to avoid talking to Alya for the rest of Bustier’s class, not responding to any note-passing and hurrying out of the classroom the second the bell rang. With Marinette going home for lunch she had little opportunity to talk to her then, and as for their next period… Alya may be brave, but she wasn’t stupid. No talking in Ms. Mendeleiv’s class.

With a sigh, she watched Marinette run out of Francois-Dupont, somehow managing to take the stairs two at a time without falling. Clearly whatever it was, Marinette didn’t want to talk about it. 

But if it was hurting her…

She shook her head. She’d been thinking about this all day. It was time to get her mind off it, do something else. 

Nodding, she turned towards the park. Maybe some time climbing trees would help take her mind off things. And if it didn’t, it’d at least give her practice catching her siblings when they inevitably got themselves stuck in some high-up area. She could swear they had teleportation skills that they’d been hiding their whole lives just to prank the rest of the family with.

Chuckling to herself, she almost missed the flash of red out of the corner of her eye.

She whipped around. “Ladybug?!” 

The superhero froze, looking caught out. “Alya!” she said, sounding strangled. “What’re you doing here?” 

She shrugged. “Just enjoying the weather,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Would you be up for another interview?”

Ladybug started shaking her head before she even finished the sentence. “No, NOPE, nada, absolutely not!” she said, making an “X” with her arms for emphasis. “Not after yesterday. Not happening.”

She stashed her phone. “You just want to talk off the record then?”

The superheroine’s eyes widened a fraction. She nodded. “There’s… there’s something I could use your advice on.”

Something fluttered in Alya’s chest. Her idol needed her help? “I’ll do what I can,” she said, more confidently than she felt.

After going to a secluded part of the park, Ladybug turned to her. “You know a lot about superheroes right? About how we have to maintain a double life?”

Alya nodded. “It’s a comic book staple. Often causes a lot of trouble for the hero, but not as much as having their identity leaked to the world.”

“Yeah, I know what that trouble’s like,” Ladybug muttered to herself. Speaking more loudly, she looked at Alya. “I- I messed up. Badly. I forgot that I’d-” She paused. “Sorry, I need to be careful about this. I don’t want to expose myself.”

Alya nodded. 

After a minute, Ladybug tried again. “I needed to do something as Ladybug, but as a civilian, I’d already agreed to another responsibility at the same time,” she said carefully. “I couldn’t tell anyone that I needed to do something Ladybug-related without spilling my secret identity, but I also couldn’t get out of my civilian responsibility so I- I tricked someone into doing it instead. And they found out and they’re mad at me and I can’t BLAME them but I can’t tell them everything and I just don’t know what to do!” She looked at Alya pleadingly.

Her stomach twisted. “Seems to be a lot of deception going on lately,” she muttered, surprising even herself with how bitter she sounded. She blinked as Ladybug winced. 

Stop projecting your feelings about the sleepover onto Ladybug’s situation, they’re not the same! She scolded herself.

What would she do in Ladybug’s shoes? She couldn’t tell anyone her identity. She’d still want to be friends with this person. Just heaping on lies would make it worse when those came to light, alienating the friend (or former friend) even further.

“Have you explained as much as you could why you did it without giving away your secret identity?” Alya asked slowly. “Just… let them know that you do care about them, that you didn’t lie to them lightly, that you care about your feelings and you didn’t have a lot of options.” Ah, screw it. Maybe it was just because it’d been recent and she was still hurting and worried, but perhaps hearing it would help Ladybug with her own friend problems. “One of my friends recently tricked me into covering for her,” she said. “I’m still not sure why.”

“O-oh, really?” Ladybug said… nervously? Probably because it reminded her of her own friend.

“She vaguely explained to me why,” she continued. “What she was thinking and feeling at the time. She had another commitment too, but she didn’t tell me what it was.” She let out a deep sigh. “At least she didn’t lie about it - I think. I’d rather she not tell me, than lie about it.” A pebble sat near her shoe. Absentmindedly, she kicked it. “With how distraught she was when she explained it... I think she was sincere. That she doesn’t view me as a tool. That she was just in a tough spot,” she said. “That helps a lot.”

“I- I did explain,” Ladybug said, hope lifting her voice. “I think she believed me.”

Alya nodded. “In that case… I don’t think there’s much more you can do. Give her space, and try to avoid doing it again if you can.” She bit her lip. “Which might not be totally under your control considering Hawkbutt.” 

Ladybug stifled a giggle. 

She gave a small smile, snorting at her own joke. “Anyway, could I ask you a favor? So long as you don’t have any other commitments already, I don’t want to land you in hot water with anyone else,” she added hastily.

“Nothing to do with the Ladyblog, right?” Ladybug asked suspiciously.

As much as she’d like that… “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Actually, it has to do with a friend of mine. You know Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

“Uh- NOPE never heard that name in my life! Who’s Marinette?” Ladybug said hastily, gesticulating wildly.

Huh. Weird. She could’ve sworn that Marinette had mentioned meeting Ladybug before, but come to think of it, she couldn’t remember a single instance of Marinette and Ladybug being in the same place at the same time-

Never mind, there was that time with Alix’s race. But if that was the only time, no wonder Ladybug didn’t remember her. She wasn’t even sure that anyone had said Marinette’s name while Ladybug was within earshot.

Aaaaaand there was that niggling sensation again. She wished it’d either divulge what it was getting at or leave her alone. 

She whipped out her phone, pulling up a picture she and Marinette had taken together a couple months ago. “Marinette’s my best friend,” she said, surprising herself with how sure she sounded. “We’re going through a bit of a rough patch right now, but… well, I’m still worried about her. She was the one who lied to me yesterday, and when I confronted her about it, she said something about not having a choice. It sounds like she’s in danger but she won’t tell me from what, and I’m not sure what could be the problem and… I’m just worried.” Looking up from her phone, she locked eyes with the superhero. “Could you check up on her, please? Maybe she’d talk to you even if she wouldn’t talk to me. And- and even if she doesn’t, I’d feel better if a superhero was looking out for her.”

“You really care about her, huh?,” Ladybug said, giving her a soft smile. “Even though you’re fighting.”

She nodded. “I’m not happy with her, and there are some things we still need to work out, but- yeah. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

“You’re a good friend, Alya. I’m sure she’s fine, but I’ll look after her as best I can.”

“Buginette?” a boy’s voice called. A black figure landed next to Ladybug, crouched in the classic superhero landing pose, one knee bent, one hand punching the ground.

Oooh, new Ladyblog idea! Top ten Chat Noir poses! Seriously, that cat could be a model with the way he effortlessly mugged for the camera.

Ladybug groaned. “Did I forget the time already?” 

“It’s fine,” Chat said, resting his stick on his shoulders. “Waiting made seeing you all the sweeter.”

The spotted heroine groaned again, for a different reason this time. Alya saw the corners of her lips quirk upwards ever-so-slightly, belying her annoyance. “Come on, you alley cat. Race you to the Tower!”

“Oh, you’re on!” 

Alya watched them run off. Well, pole vault and swing off, but you know. Semantics.

Turning around, she headed back home.

She had an article to write.

-----

Alya hummed as she walked into class, glancing at her phone. The Chat article had been a major hit, garnering several dozen comments within a few hours of posting, including from a user called “TheCatsMeow” who seemed weirdly invested in convincing everyone that Chat definitely had no experience modeling and his on-point posing was entirely due to natural talent and charisma. People picked the weirdest hills to die on. She’d been joking when she proposed that he was secretly a supermodel, but after having defended the possibility in a ten-commment-long exchange, she was starting to seriously consider it. Hm, maybe Adrien would have an idea of a possible identity lead…

“Oooof!”

“Augh!”

Note to self: Don’t walk while looking at your phone. Sure she never listened when Mom told her that, but maybe this time she’d have the self-control to hold off! Optimism!

“Sorry,” she said instinctively. And blinked. “Marinette? You’re EARLY?!”

She should text her mom to buy a lottery ticket.

“Yeah,” Marinette said, chuckling nervously. She seemed to be in much better shape this time. A little down, but it looked like she’d gotten some decent sleep. “I- I just thought- if you wanted to talk- never mind. You need space.”

Suspicions percolated in her mind. “I should go to the restroom before class starts. How about you?”

Marinette’s head whipped up. “Yeah, sure, better to be safe than sorry. You know me, always needing to race to the toilet!” She rubbed the back of her neck.

“Every other akuma attack it seems like,” Alya said, walking down the hallway with her friend. “I swear, something about it being an inconvenient time makes you need to go even more.”

“Yep, that’s totally the reason!” Marinette agreed.

They walked for a moment in silence while she tried to gather her thoughts. “You know about my advice to Ladybug, don’t you?” she said at last.

“Ack-!” Marinette tripped on air, but managed to save herself at the last second. “Uh, no, that’s ridiculous, how could I know about that? It’s not like I was there or anything.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Uh huh. And it’s pure coincidence that you concluded I needed space the day after I gave that advice to Ladybug to help with her own friend problem?”

“Uuuuuh…” Marinette looked off to the side, before releasing a long sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. Ladybug talked to me last night, and well… your conversation came up. I figured our problems were similar enough, and you were the one giving the advice, so… maybe if I followed it, we could make up?”

Marinette wanted to go back to normal, to laugh and joke and just.. enjoy each other’s company again. And Alya… she wanted that too. 

She knew Marinette hadn’t meant to hurt her. And she understood why Marinette had done what she’d done. 

Well, except for what prompted Marinette to need to lie in the first place. She just had a gut feeling it was a cult, some sort of secret society. She was sure Miraculous had been around for awhile, that several historical figures had used them, and she could just bet that there was some sort of secret group watching over them from the shadows. She just needed a thread to follow, something that could lead her back to the guardians-

NOT THE TIME, BRAIN.

Abruptly, she stopped. “I- I want that too,” she said softly. “I don’t like fighting. I want my friend back.” She gave Marinette a hard look. “If Ladybug told you my advice, then you already know what I’m about to say. I don’t like being lied to - not like that. Not as part of a manipulation. You had your reasons, I get that, but I don’t think I could take that a second time. Unless someone’s in danger if you don’t, please, don’t lie to me. If you can’t tell me something or why you’re asking me to do a thing, just tell me that. I can’t promise to like it, but it’s better than being tricked.”

Marinette bit her lip and nodded. “I think- yeah. Yeah, I can do that,” she said, gaining confidence.

Alya smiled. “In that case…” she took off. “Race you to the bathrooms!”

“Hey, no running in the halls!” Marinette said, but her laughter undercut her words. As did her immediately overtaking Alya.

Girl could move fast when she wanted to.

------

(Several months later)

“And I… I’m Ladybug”

“This makes everything make so much more sense.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #alya cesaire #marinette dupain cheng #prime queen

[highfaelucien]

While on the topic of wishing sjm had done something different for her characters, I really wanted something more for cassian. For example, cassian’s wings going from being completely ruined in the end of acomaf to being 100% healed in acowar made no sense to me. I think it would’ve been an opportunity for the growth of cassian’s character to see him go through the loss of losing the ability to fly and instead retrain himself to be a warrior in other ways and find other things about himself that prove his own worth to himself. Given the fact that cassian’s confidence is aligned with his ability to protect and serve others, it just would have been sooo good to see him overcome his grief and become even stronger of a character. And how wings, in general, are a sense of male pride among illyrians. I think this would’ve been the perfect way to write cassian and have him break away from his own idea of masculinity. He could have redefined what it meant for him to be a Man ™. Ugh, it just could have been so GOOD, imagine the character we could have gotten from him.

Listen, after ACOMAF, when this happened, EVERYONE was buzzing about this. Most people thought he wouldn't outright lose his wings permanently, but there would be a LOT required.

And then ACOWAR came and approximately nothing happened whatsoever. Oh he had to be healed. the healer had to rebuild his wings. he had to do strength training every day. But fundamentally: not a sausage.

Personally? I think Maas chickend out. I think she was unable to commit to taking Cassian's wings, or figuring out how to write him as anything other than what she's established him as: fun jock man who likes to hit things real hard and make dick jokes sometimes.

Having to see Cassian vulnerable? Having to see him broken, and struggling, and having to reevaluate his entire life and self-esteem and sense of masculinity would have been an incredible option for a character arc.

Most of the theorising/Nessian fics involved Nesta helping him. The two of them being broken/fundamentally altered by their experiences in Hybern - she being killed and Made with a dark power, Cassian losing his wings.

There was expected bonding over that, peeling away the masks they both wear to discover the softness underneath. The two of them being able to reach one another, because of their bond, in a way the others could not. It produced some pretty epic stuff, honestly.

And how badly I wanted that I didn't FULLY realise until the disappointment of ACOSF, when it hit fully.

Because instead of stripping Cassian back and seeing the tactician, the strategist, forcing him to put his other skills to use, to develop those skills, rather than 'smash with sword and ask questions later'. This man is a General. All the combat training in the world doesn't let you be good at this job if you can't command, if you can't use tactics, if you can't strategise.

And THIS is where I wanted to see Nesta. Nesta, the woman who calculated how many ships would be needed to save the humans of Prythian. The woman who looked at Greysen's manor and assessed its capabilities and saw a prison. The woman who devours history novels, who has a tactical, cunning mind. Who has never been a warrior or a creature of brute strength or physical abilities.

THIS is how I wanted to see Nesta evolve. This was how I wanted to see her develop. I didn't want her taken out of lady's dresses. I didn't want her forced into fighting leathers, to basically become another copy of her sister, and follow down that path.

I wanted her to take her own. I wanted her to finally be in a place where she could learn, and strategise, and contribute. And I wanted her to work with Cassian on this - who was grounded because of his wings, who couldn't command on the frontlines anymore, or even fight. Who had to stay back, and see how he handled this. How he maintained his authority. How he maintained his sanity without his wings.

We could have had so fucking much. Such a powerful narrative about survival. I wanted her in the library, with the other survivors, (and with fucking MORRIGAN - not sidelined, not dismissed, not being bitchy and catty for the sake of it. But someone who visits the library frequently, who interacts with the women there, and sometimes just is a woman there herself, because there are still hard days.)

But no. No instead of something nuanced, and original, and actually tailored to Nesta's strengths as a character, we got Yet Another Weapon's Trainng Montage.

We got the narrative that the only way to heal from abuse is to be able to beat the shit out of your abusers. Because that's #GirlPower, right?

It makes me so furious I almost want to just. Just fucking rewrite the whole damn fucking thing myself the way it SHOULD have gone.

And I know you talked about Cassian and not Nesta, so I do apologise, but they were tied together. But I agree.

We all wanted Cassian to evolve from that 'Lord of Bloodshed' / "savage brute" because reading between the lines and forcing some nuance from these books, which is the only way to survive: Cassian has a lot of layers. There's a lot of trauma there. A lot of insecurity. A lot of angst. A lot of heart. A lot of fucking INTELLIGENCE. (I'll fight on that point, I really will. Cassian is not a dumb himbo who can barely add 1 and 1).

But sjm was too busy writing him having a hard on for Nesta to explore....anything about himself. Or his relationship with Azriel, and Rhys, and Mor, and everyone else.

The removal (even temporarily) of his wings would have allowed for a LOT of that exploration.

Firstly, the fact that he injured them by CHOICE, saving Azriel's life. That would have been such a deep connection and bond between them. The guilt that Az would feel - but the potential for Cassian to step in, even with his wings gone, and say that he'd do it again.

Because Azriel is his brother. He loves him. And it was worth it. It would be worth it a hundred times over to save him. Because he's worth saving. And he's worth sacrificing for. And what that would have done for Az as a character, too. Who always offers himself up first for dangerous missions, puts himself in peril to protect the others.

And having Cassian join Feyre and Az's flying lessons? Because Cass having to relearn how to fly once (if) his wings healed to that extent, means letting Azriel train him. Because those old instincts aren't enough. And he has to learn how to strengthen them, and train with them. And how this affects his perception of himself and his masculinity, as he said. But also deepening his understanding for Az, and the bond the two of them share, in having this experience together.

Bonding with Rhys, who FINALLY fucking opens up to someone and has some nuanced therapy-like conversations about what happened with Amarantha. The sacrifces they've made for their people. How they'd do it again but it still hurts, and changes them, and how they have to learn and grow and move on from that and heal together.

Rhys working with Cassian on his other talents, using him as the skilled strategist and tactician he MUST be. Helping him to develop that, keeping his brother from losing his mind while he can't fight or use his physicality to solve problems, as he usually does.

Mor personally healing and tending to Cassian. Mor being there at his bedside every day while he was bed bound. Mor becoming as possessive and overprotective of both him and Az as any mate ever has been.

Mor speaking to him about her own rehabilitation after what her family did to her, the physical toll that took on her. Mor's heart breaking because she nearly lost both him and Az and she couldn't handle that at all. Mor reiterating how much she fucking loves him, and how she needs him.

Mor helping him through the darker days of his depression because she's been there. And she knows what it is to put on a front. To always be laughing, and joking, without the seriousness of life -leave that to the others. But sometimes it's too much and he needs to break down. And be angry. And furious. And hopeless. And scared. And that's what she's there for. Because she understands.

Mor winnowing him to his favourite spots that he can't fly to anymore, just so he can be there. The two of them spending time, and bonding, and developing that relationship we got in ACOMAF beyond 'we bicker constantly and drink together and make sexual innuendos'.

Even Amren showing up and doing her part. Snapping at him to stop brooding so much. But also bringing him some of her puzzles. Some of her favourite military history books (which she has anotated and edited to highlight the bits that have been incorrectly reported). Spending time with him to stop him going mad. Exhausting herself those first few days personally attending to Cassian's wings, and snarling at anyone who tried to interfere.

IT COULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH.

IT COULD HAVE DEVELOPED SO MUCH WITH THE INNER CIRCLE. AND CASSIAN. AND NESSIAN. AND JUST. EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER BUT NAW. IT WAS BASIC ASS AND BORING AND I'M GONNA DIE MAD ABOUT IT.

#cassian #nesta archeron #nessian #rhysand #azriel #morrigan acotar #amren #acotar series #acotar meta #cassian meta #IT'S WHAT WE DESERVED I TELL YOU #IT'S WHAT WE FUCKING /DESERVED/ #im still ANGY #answer tag #anonymous #taryn answers #long post #taryn rants #anti sjm #anti acotar

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Just Ask

Prompts: Hey… So, I was wondering if you could write a fic where one of the sides are dyslexic? Since that usually just ends as "Oh, I can't read, oh no!" and not like the actual neurodiversity it is. Yes, I admit, I want to relate to one too, but… Well. It'd be awesome if you would, but if that's too tall an order or too specific that's fine too. If you do, though, maybe college AU with roceit? -anon

Hi you're amazing! I love your writing and brand of writing and just I've read a lot of your stories and I love them all kskejejwuwugfhsv-

I was wondering, if you take requests, that maybe you could write a human AU with fake dating Roceit? With confident fat Janus because we need that! Or not, that's your choice!

(I sound like some snob asking for a highly specific coffee shi-) - anon

oh babe y'all wanted to be FED huh

Read on Ao3

Warnings: slight ableist/fatphobic language

Pairings: roceit

Word Count: 2487

Sometimes, you can get all of your work done in the library. Sometimes, people are ableists.

And sometimes there's something wonderful in finding out there's someone there for you as well.

Roman scrubs his hands over his face and sighs. Between waiting ages at the printer or absolutely destroying his retinas by staring at a screen for hours on end, he isn’t unhappy with making the choice to save the environment by using less paper but god.

“At least this pdf was convertible,” he mutters, scrolling down to see how many pages he has left. The last four weren’t and reading without the right font is a fucking pain in the ass.

Seven pages left. Great.

Roman focuses on the screen and starts to mutter under his breath again. Focus on the word, figure it out, make the sentence, move on. Pause to take notes, make sure it’s legible to read later, and repeat.

A computer and heavy bag thuds onto the table next to him and he jumps, almost knocking his coffee over. He looks up, glaring at the person who stares down their nose at him like he’s some sort of stain. Rude.

“You’ve been here for like, three hours, dude,” they say, like that’s supposed to justify their behavior, “move. I need this spot.”

Roman looks around. There’s like, four more tables open. “Can’t you just go sit somewhere else?”

“No! This is my spot! You can go sit somewhere else.”

“Well,” Roman mutters, glaring at his screen again, “I was here first. So you can either wait until I’m done or sit down.”

“Dude, I swear—“

“Excuse me,” comes a smooth voice that has no business being this polished in the fucking library, “is this person bothering you, sweetie?”

Roman turns around and his mouth drops open.

“J-Janus?”

Janus raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms and glaring at the dick with the heavy bag. Who, as a matter of fact, seems to be muttering and stuffing shit back into said bag.

“Sorry I’m late,” Janus drawls, still sounding way too confident and way too much like he knows what’s going on, “got held up after class.”

“Uh, no problem,” he mumbles, glancing over his shoulder to see the asshole is still standing there, “just, um…working.”

“Ah, well then, you won’t mind if I join you.” And with that, Janus sits down with a flourish, propping his chin up on his hand and fixing the asshole with an impressive look of disgust. “And you…you can leave.”

“Look, buddy—“

“My partner and I have work to do,” Janus says, swiftly cutting them off and making sure Roman has no idea what’s going on, “now leave.”

Roman’s really glad there was no ambiguity that Janus could’ve been talking to him, because he’s about ready to bolt. Only when the asshole has retreated does Janus turn his gaze to him.

“Sorry about that,” he says, flicking a speck of imaginary lint from his gloves, “he seemed like he was bothering you. Thanks for playing along.”

“Oh, uh, no, I’m, uh—“ Janus raises an eyebrow as Roman stumbles over his words— “sorry. Uh, thanks?”

Janus chuckles. “Oh, no worries, sweetie. I was happy to do it. Although…”

Janus squints at him and Roman fights the urge to squirm under that gaze.

“You’re in my seminar class, aren’t you?” Roman nods. “The one that let out three hours ago?”

“Yeah, uh-huh.”

“Have you…been here since then?”

Roman nods, trying to get back to work and, you know, maybe get out of here, only for Janus to reach across the table and still his hands as he goes to pick up the pen again.

“Have you eaten?”

“What?”

“Eaten,” Janus says slowly, mouth stretching into a smile, “lunch, sweetie.”

“Uh—“ no, is the correct answer— “I was going to?”

Janus just gives him a look.

“…no.”

“Mm.” Janus glances at his computer and notebook. “You’re not by any chance attempting to read all of the assignments in one go, are you?”

Roman’s guilty flush seems to answer that question for him. Janus sighs and it’s such an odd mixture of disappointment and fondness Roman hasn’t earned that his brain spits out the only question he actually wants an answer to.

“Why are you here?”

Janus chuckles. “In the library, at this school, or are we already to the point of questioning the very nature of existence?”

Roman just blinks at him.

“Oh, relax, sweetie, I’m teasing.” Janus glances off in the vague direction the asshole wandered off to. He leans a little closer. “I know how…difficult it can be to try and do work when they bother you.”

Roman’s cheeks flush. “Oh, uh…thanks, then.”

Janus waves a hand. “It’s none of their business why you’re doing so much work at once. Even if it does make you skip lunch,” he adds with such a pointed look that Roman can’t help splutter.

“I was going to! And you’re not my mother!”

“No,” Janus purrs, “but like any good partner, I like to make sure my sweetie takes care of themselves.”

Roman does not squeak, despite Janus’s chuckles, but he does start to fiddle with his pen. “I can’t…stop yet.”

“Why ever not?”

“Can you stop,” Roman blurts, scrubbing his hands over his blushing face, “please? For like, two seconds?”

“Sorry, you’re just adorable.”

“Stop, dude, seriously, if you want an actual answer to the question?”

“I’m done,” Janus chuckles, “I’m done, sorry.”

Roman takes a deep breath. He fiddles with the pen. “It’s just—with my dyslexia, it takes a while to…find the, um…”

“Zone?”

“…sure.”

Janus hums in understanding. Then he reaches into his own bag and pulls out a book of his own. “Then we may as well work together until you’re finished.”

Roman blinks. Hi, hello, brain is confused, what just happened in the last five minutes?

Janus waves a hand in front of his face. “Hello? Sweetie? You okay?”

“Sorry, I’m just—trying to process what happened.” Roman blinks again. “Because it seems like some asshole tried to take my seat, you came up and pretended to be my partner to scare them away, proceeded to badger me about taking care of myself, and now you’re…still here?”

Janus nods. “That’s how I experienced it too, that’s correct.”

“…so now what’re we doing?”

“Well, I’m also going to try and get some work done, you’re going to finish your work, and then we’re going to get lunch.”

“And what about the dude that now thinks we’re partners?”

Janus looks at him and shrugs. “I’m game if you are.”

Roman blinks again. Is…Janus suggesting they fake being in a relationship to, what, defend Roman’s right to sit wherever the fuck he wants for however long in a library?

“What’s in it for you?”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me,” Roman says, “what’s in it for you?”

Janus’s fingers still on the book he’s pulled out. He sighs and looks up at Roman.

“How long have you known about your dyslexia?”

Jumping around a bit here, aren’t we? “About six years, why?”

“And you know how to manage it? For you?”

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“That doesn’t mean it goes away,” Janus says softly, “it’s still work, you just…know how to do it now.”

“Yeah, it still takes me time to do things, why—“ Roman’s eyes widen— “oh. Oh, wait, you mean—wait, what do they have against you?”

Janus’s mouth tugs up into a smirk. “How sweet.”

“Shut up,” Roman mumbles, “you know what I mean.”

Janus just winks at him before sobering. “Well,” he says wryly, gesturing at himself, “surely you can understand that…not everyone treats you very well when you aren’t the circumference of a toothpick.”

Oh. They’re those kind of assholes. Something Janus chuckles about when that thought gets out before Roman can stop them.

“Quite. I can manage them, but it’s still work.” He looks at Roman. “Maybe we can split the load?”

“I’m down with that.”

“Wonderful. Now,” Janus says, mock sternly, “get back to work. We have lunch to get.”

Roman chuckles. “Sure, sure, don’t ask to borrow my notes.”

“I would never, I just forget things like a cool person and make things up that the professor likes to hear.”

Yeah, this is gonna go just fine.

As it turns out, it does. Roman won’t lie, he was…skeptical about the viability of this plan of theirs. He’s read the stories. He knows how this works. He knows about the misunderstandings and whether it’s a bet or a dare, something goes wrong.

But…nothing does.

Watching Janus tear anyone to shreds is entertaining enough in class, where Roman gives up on taking debate notes and just watches because goddamn, but when he gets to stand there and just glare at some ableist while Janus verbally decimates them? Poetic cinema. He debates sneaking some popcorn into his jacket pocket but that would take away from the power of his glare.

And it is nice to have someone else do the work of glaring assholes away from his table when he’s working on reading. He would be lying if he said that actually having someone else to talk to isn’t part of it. It’s so much easier to keep track of where he’s messing up so he can focus on it during his exercises later.

“You know,” Janus remarks as they leave the library one day, “you can ask the professors for editable pdfs.”

“Huh?”

“For your font stuff.” Janus nods toward his backpack. “I know you like to change the font so you can read it better, most of them have editable copies of the materials.”

“Not for the eBooks and scans and stuff.”

Janus huffs, waving his hand. “How do you think they get the audio transcripts for the recorded versions? They have to transcribe it anyway, just ask for those.”

Roman stops. “How…how do you know those exist?”

Janus just taps the side of his nose and winks.

“Can…can you do that?”

“Of course.” Janus links his arm through Roman’s. “Anything for you.”

That shouldn’t do what it does to Roman’s chest.

Because yeah, okay, maybe Janus is…really cute.

Like, unfairly cute.

No one should be able to rock that hat all the time. And the gloves. And the pocket watch. And the curly hair. And the attitude. And the impressive vocabulary. And the razor-sharp wit. And he actually knows how to flirt! What is flirting? All Roman knows is Gay Panic™ and Suffering™. What is this? Why is it allowed?

And why, oh why, did Janus have to be the one that started the fake-dating idea?

Because here’s the thing. It would be so easy to just be friends with Janus. It would! They’re already friends now, fake-dating kind of does that to you. And Janus, despite what he wants everyone else to believe, is a fucking dork. His actual laugh is squeaky and bubbly and ugh, Roman could drown in it. And he’s really kind. It’s not the same breed of kind that Roman’s used to, but goddamn, Janus is so sweet when he lets himself be. And it’s been so long since Roman had like, an actual friend…

But it would also be so easy to be more than friends with Janus. To actually be able to take him out for dates and not just lunch at their janky cafeteria. To be able to spend time together that isn’t just for show, or platonic, or just hanging out ranting about stupid dead supposed-to-be-smart people.

Again, Roman’s read the stories. He knows how this is supposed to go.

So when he takes a little longer to pack up one day, enough that Janus notices and eases himself back down into his seat with a soft, real, ‘what’s wrong, sweetie, let me help,’ Roman prepares the bittersweet ‘nothing, I’m fine,’ and to swallow down everything real.

But instead…

“Can we, um, actually date?”

Janus blinks. “Come again, sweetie?”

Roman fiddles with the buckle on his bag. “I, um, I really appreciate what we’ve been doing, and I, um, I’m super happy being your friend…”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“…but I, um—“ god, why are words so hard?— “I think I would actually like to try…dating you. For real.”

He peeks up nervously at Janus.

“Is…is that okay?”

Janus sits there, silent. He blinks a few times. Then a slow, real smile spreads across his face.

“Roman,” he says softly, almost too quiet, even in the hush of the library, “why do you think I proposed this idea in the first place?”

Oh.

Oh.

Roman blinks. “Wait, you—you?”

A pretty flush covers Janus’s face. “Well, I…was planning to ask you normally, but then I saw you being absolutely tormented and…panicked.”

“You panicked?”

He throws his hands up. “Well, what was I supposed to do? The most gorgeous person in my seminar was being bullied and I was supposed to just let it happen?”

Wait. Back up. Roman is what?

“And yes, maybe I...wanted an excuse to be your friend first, but as I said, I panicked and so—“

“You—wait, you think I’m pretty?”

Janus stops, mouth open, before he’s scoffing. “Roman, have you seen yourself?”

“Uh—“

“At least you’re pretty,” Janus mutters under his breath, “pretty and dumb, but pretty.”

“Hey!”

“You can be big of brain and dumb of ass at the same time, sweetie.”

“Oh, says the man whose idea was to fake-date me because you wanted to actually ask me out!”

“I will not be lectured on dramatics from a theater kid.”

“That’s ex-theater kid to you.”

“Oh, you know once you go, you never come back.”

Roman giggles. Then he’s laughing. Janus joins in and oh, this is much better than shoving feelings down and pretending they don’t exist.

“You’re such a fucking dork.”

“No,” Janus purrs, reaching over to boop the end of Roman’s nose, “I’m your fucking dork.”

Oh. Oh, that sounds…really good. Roman’s chest is really warm now, when did that happen? Janus smiles too.

“So…dinner?”

“You’re paying.”

“I’ll pick you up at six.”

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#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #roman sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #sympathetic deceit

[kkyujikoo]

These are my... 2...? Maybe 50, cents about the whole "freejk" thing. I'm gonna be extremely petty and at some points a whole lot sarcastic and it's gonna be long but I had to say it. As soon as I get my computer I'm gonna make it under read more, but the app does whatever it wants, as we know.

Listen, this ain't my first fan rodeo, and not even the first fan rodeo where I've been directly or indirectly accused of being some sort of pervert or delulu. I've been in fandom spaces since I was a teen, I was shipping mlm couples when queerbaiting in TV shows was still something that was seen as the norm rather than some cheap disgusting trick. I was there when fanfic spaces saw "slash" fics as something "different" and to be tagged with a more mature rating even when they just looked at each other.

I was in BBC's Sherlock's fandom and I shipped Johnlock during the hiatus between S3 and S4, at this point I'm not even feeling it when people call me delulu or a weirdo.

So, yeah, take this with a grain of salt: as a person who has seen thousands of times fandom drama unfolding and has lived too much of it... This whole situation is so ridiculous it makes me laugh. Like, yeah, it's maddening how people will blame anyone and everyone because they don't even see their own bias and homophobia, granted, but like... It also makes me laugh for the sheer dumbassery of the reasoning behind it all?

Like... Y'all are getting mad and for what? Because it sure as hell isn't the invasion of privacy, since y'all are watching the same content we're all watching and you're paying to see it the same way everyone else is. If you don't want to "invade their privacy", you should just... Stop watching content that isn't their music videos, RUN episodes or interviews. Memories and any kind of dvd/video that shows what they're doing behind the scenes shouldn't be part of their job as musicians, and therefore we're intruding in their privacy... Or aren't we?

Or maybe it's more nuanced than that: maybe the content they release on dvd/on their official channels is part of their job as entertainers, and it's been approved, and it's a small window THEY are granting us.

You know what's the REAL invasion of privacy and what REALLY invalidates someone autonomy? When you, who maybe aren't even paying to see that content (which is something I understand, like, dude, I'm not covered in money either), DEMAND what kind of behind the scenes content you want when I swear ABSOLUTELY NO ONE has asked you. Once again: you don't like it? You think it's some huge invasion of privacy? Don't buy it. Don't interact with it. Convince your friends to do the same. For all I care, just go and petition to boycott this kind of content. I know you won't do it, because... That's the thing, isn't it? It's not the invasion of privacy that bothers these people.

Y'all aren't mad because we get into their business or else you would have gotten real mad when we were privy to REAL private moments like people crying their hearts out.

No, no. Y'all are mad because it's "shipping content" and "fanservice" which apparently bothers you because it lacks authenticity.

Pick a side, lovelies: either you DON'T want to invade their privacy, and thus all the content they release should be focused on what fans want to see, or you WANT to know how they interact TRULY in private.

And here's the catch: "shipping content" can be anything. Shipping existed WAAAAAYYY before the word for it was invented, same way with fanfictions. Shipping means, literally, "seeing two (or more) people interact and thinking they would make a good romantic pair". That's it. That's quite literally it. Everything else is just some nuance of the concept of shipping, but at its core, it's nearly impossible to ban all shipping content when it's a group of seven people, because they should for real go in social distancing mode to do so. Most people who have parasocial relationships tend to have "ships" whether they know it or not, because we've all, at least once, looked at a dynamic from the outside and thought "oh man they look cute together". So, even if, o dear ones, your wishes were granted... What the hell do you mean by "shipping" content? Should they just film solo clips, avoiding talking about the other members? But wouldn't that be fanservice, since it's focused on pleasing the fans? (Which, ultimately, is what fanservice MEANS, and I hate to break it to y'all but the whole concept behind entertainment and thus all the content BTS releases it's... For the fans. Like, they're not going out of their way to just meet our expectations but they're certainly doing fanservice by the mere act of releasing bonus content.)

But it's not even quite that, is it? Because no one bats an eye if it's Tae kissing Nj's cheek. I've seen no hashtag against everyone - and I mean literally every one of them - wolf whistling at Nj. It's okay to show intimacy... Because they're bandmates and it's okay to be close to someone who you see basically 24/7, I hear you. And it's also okay when people see that and gush over that closeness, because it's such a nice thing to see.

Soooooo... We've got to free JK from whom exactly? From what?

Are y'all mad cause people pointed out there's very little way a bruise that stayed for a whole ass night could be a quick bite? Because that doesn't harm jk, at most makes fun of him and jimin and their poor excuses (seriously, guys, next time consider using mosquitoes or "I was doing stuff". It'll be equally embarrassing but at least the meme will be funny), and it's literally... A fair observation. Like. It's a hickey, people are gonna make jokes about seeing a hickey and poor excuses of covering it up in the exact same way they're gonna make jokes over jimin falling out of chairs. And yeah, a hickey is AT LEAST something that happens in a sensual context. Like, I could understand "people who are extremely familiar with each other will have different body language/touch in areas where usually you wouldn't see friends touching each other", but that's not. Not a hand on the thigh. It's a hickey on the neck. I don't even know a more stereotypical placing for a hickey. But once again, are y'all mad because someone is pointing it out? Because that's not being delulu or even being a shipper, really, it's just commenting on something that was approved to be shown and discussed in something that was released BY THEM.

Are y'all mad at hybe for showing something that literally fell onto their hands? Cause like, unless someone (I'm counting on Jimin, since as we know Jungkook was busy spinning him round and round and had both his hands busy) called at hybe headquarters to say "yo bang pd substitute, is it okay if I give my friend jk here a hickey? Cause he's being really annoying rn and he has to pay", I highly doubt anyone expected Jungkook to come to rehearsal all neatly marked up. Or idk, maybe someone at hybe asked them "we need Jungkook to come in with a hickey but refuse to say it's a hickey, so that fans will feel reeeeally served." That sounds perfectly plausible too. Or a good marketing strategy.

Now, if you're a big company and your objective is to have some footage of the rehearsals for a concert, and the fandom is too good at noticing stuff for their own good, and one of your artists comes in with a very visible mark, and he and his bff bropal4lyfe come n with a story about how they were playing and a bite happened, you've got three choices: 1. Cut the artist out of aaaaalll the footage. Someone would have noticed the "bite mark" anyway, you best believe that. If you don't want anyone to notice it, you gotta cut him in most of the footage where it's visible. 2. Keep the hickey, discard the explanations. You could do that, but also it would feel a lot more unfaithful to everyone involved. Also they clearly worked their ass off to invent an explanation, come on! They truly tried to do their best inventing something that was not "it's a mosquito bite", they should get some credit! 3. Keep the bite, keep the explanation.

Notice how none of these solutions include the biting never happening because... They couldn't prevent it? The only thing they have any control over is how they're framing each "accident". And that's not an easy job.

I applaud you, people on the editing team.

So... On whom should we cast the blame now? Ah, yes, I think it's finally time for the ultimate scapegoat of this fandom: Jimin. Which is funny, cause... You know... If this were really about privacy, or being "victims" of shipping... This should be about freeing him too, you know? But obviously Jimin does it for attention, while Jungkook, poor angel that he is, doesn't even know what shipping is.

Furthermore, don't we all know how much Jimin imposes himself in Jungkook's life? To the point where he, multimillionaire man feels compelled to share a car with Jimin even if they're both late in the process. And can't you see how uncomfortable he is, draping himself over Jimin, making Jimin drap himself over him?

Oh lordy, truly such an awful eight years Jungkook spent, choosing to have vacations with someone who made him uncomfortable, spending free time with him, even having to suck his ear in public to the point you can see his saliva just because Jimin was sad :( truly an all-around bad time for Jungkook, as evidenced by alllll those times when he said Jimin was pretty, cute, and all-around knowing every little thing about Jimin. I absolutely concur, the dude would be so much more happy if jimin was not in his life.

Did that sound weird and absolutely ridiculous and a really absurd joke? Because that's what y'all sound like to me. Like. Jungkook is out there living his best life, getting hickeys and showered in affection and y'all paint him as a fucking martyr??? I'm sure he's really truly desperate that Jimin holds him in such high regards 😭😭😭 I can see him suffering whenever he starts doing his own serendipity rendition 😭😭 and when he claimed you are me, I am you as his and Jimin's only 😭😭😭 I cannot believe this poor baby 😭😭😭

I've reached a point where every time I hear this stuff I laugh because the levels of twisting reality when it comes to jikook are extraordinary, Jungkook will have a literally blissed out face and people will cry in outrage.

But coming back to my point: let's pretend you're not mad at Jimin and the possibility that jikook are dating: are y'all mad... At the hickey? Because at this point it seems like the only feasible solution. And if you are, do not worry: I'm sure Jungkook's skin was throughly healed by his boo. A kiss soothes even the worst pain, doesn't it?

#jikook #that freejk dumbassery

[that-gt-and-vore-stuffs]

Desires and Daydreams

Me: oh yeah I’ll have this edited and out by tomorrow morning! Also Me: Ha! Sike! Time fo post at night again :)

All in all I’m so sorry this took so long for me to get out. A busy week with ball fucked me over time and energy wise. However, I now have a full 7k word fic for y’all so that’s good! I quite literally just finished editing this so I hope it’s as good as my mind told me it was about two minutes ago. Especially considering it’s a little gift of sorts for the amazing @doodlevore (AKA I saw this gem of a drawing, flipped out for a hot minute, and then decided it was writing time) Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy and I hope I did your artwork justice Doodle :)

As always, Vore under the cut :)

“Aw c’mon Doc!” the man halfheartedly whined as he attempted again to grab the small ‘medic’. Once more 2b had ducked under his hand, glaring up at him through his goggles. The taller of the two just laughed at the sight, near daggers of teeth glimmering through his toothy grin. No way in hell could he take that glare seriously like this. “You act like I was planning to hurt you. You really think I’m gonna hurt ya?”

“No,” 2b started, halting his words momentarily to dodge another attempted swipe at him. Getting caught by the man wouldn’t be the worst thing, sure - hell, he could name several things automatically worse than being grabbed by him in this hellscape of Nevada - however that did not mean that he wanted to be scooped up like some doll and put through whatever his teammate had in mind for him and the other two who were both currently busy dodging the taller’s other hand. Again his glare settled on the younger hacker. “But that does not mean I’m going to keel over and let you do whatever, Deimos. Now would you stop trying to grab us for five minutes!”

“But what’s the fun in that?” Deimos protested, swiping at Hank only for the shrunken mercenary to vault themself over his hand. Go figure, he was still going to be difficult. Hell, they all were. When he was the smallest of the group he was at their mercy and even went with it half the time, but the moment he got to have some fun they all decided to be as difficult as possible. In all honesty it wasn’t as bad as he was making it seem. Watching them run around like little mice was pretty entertaining. That didn’t mean he didn’t have plans he wanted to follow through with though! Whatever, he’d play their games for now. He’d get them eventually, and when he did he’d have his fun. “I’d stop if you all would just stand still for five seconds, but no. You all clearly wanna play so I’m gonna keep up the cat and mouse game we’ve got going.”

“But that- Deimos, you aren’t getting my point here at all!” 2b yelled up at the man, ducking under yet another swipe at him made by the youngest of their little crew. He was fairly certain it was impossible to miss what he was saying so either Deimos was less intelligent then he had grown to suspect over the years or he was flat out ignoring the man’s request to quit trying to grab them. A brief comparison of the two had crossed out the former option rather quickly. That cocky, smoking son of a gun. “Sanford! A little help?”

“Why me?” The Chad of a man yelled back as he scrambled to his feet after having to get down to avoid being grabbed. In the back of his mind he already had a sneaking suspicion as to why he was asked. He wasn’t stupid after all.

“He usually listens to you better than me!” The older hacker shot back, nearly running into Hank as he prepared himself for the next ‘attack’.

“So we’re playing that card now. Good to know.” Sanford grumbled softly, no real venom in his tone. 2b was right, at least in most contexts. He probably was the closest to Deimos out of them all and the other two’s usual intimidating approach to get Deimos to listen really wouldn’t work with them the size of the man’s hand. A sigh tugged itself from his throat as he directed his words up at the seemingly giant hacker. “Dei, c’mon now. Can’t you quit with the whole trying to grab us thing? It’s- AH!- not all that fun!”

“Damnit.” Deimos cursed under his breath, having missed Sanford yet again. Who knew trying to just grab his teammates would be so difficult. It was definitely fun, this little game of cat and mouse like in those old cartoons he’d managed to pirate, but it was still harder than he expected to actually grab them. Guess not everything gets to come easy. Or maybe he was going too easy… “Maybe not for you. Just stand still and make it easier on yourself if you’re having such a bad time.”

“That’s- Dei, you chucklehead, quit the games already and stop trying to grab us like rodents!”

Deimos just shook his head, a low laugh rumbling in his chest. His grin still stood proud on his face in all its sharp toothed glory. This was too much fun to give up so easily. Really, they expected him to quit the moment he started having fun? Please. He’d gone through too much to waste his opportunity. Getting his hands on shrinking tech had to be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, despite the difficulties and hurdles he had to jump to do such a thing. What had been a normal, boring day with no missions had turned into him watching his three shrunken teammates dash across the worn table while dodging his attempts to grab them. He was going to enjoy this, whether they liked it or not. Call this revenge for all the times he was teased for being the smallest out of all of them, or call it him being an ass. He didn’t care. For once the younger hacker wasn’t the small one in the group and boy did he have plans for it. Oh he had plans…

“Mmm…how ‘bout no.” Deimos hummed, slamming a hand down on the table next to 2b. Just as he’d hoped the man tensed, trying to keep himself steady on the shaking table. His eyes locked onto the temporarily paralyzed unofficial medic like a hawk’s to its prey, smirk morphing into a full on grin. Without hesitation he grabbed the man in a firm fist. There was one of the three. “Ha! Gotcha Doc~!”

“Mmgh- I can see that, Deimos. Now put me down!” 2BDamned didn’t shout at his teammates often. There were a few times he did, yes. Prime examples of such times included (but weren’t limited to) tracking blood all over the base, doing something absolutely reckless and facing the consequences, not following the plans they had for missions, etc. Not once had he expected to ever be yelling at one of them, specifically the smallest of their team, to put him down. Hank? Maybe. Sanford? Long shot but not impossible. Deimos? No. And yet here he was, trapped within the grasp of the younger hacker with seemingly no way to escape. It’s not like the little wiggling that his loose enough to be breathable yet tight confines could do was helping much.

“But what if I don’t wanna, Doc?” Deimos hummed, resting his other hand on the table for the first time in the past twenty-five minutes that he’d been trying to grab the others. “What if I wanna keep you trapped in my fist for the rest of the day huh? Maybe longer. It’s not like you can exactly free yourself, now can you? Huh? You gonna wiggle yourself out of my hand, 2b? Claw your way out like some baby kitten?”

“I swear to Jebus, once we’re back to normal I am going to kill you myself.” The dissenter growled, trying again to free himself from his confines. He could only imagine how utterly idiotic he looked, wiggling around like some fish out of water in Deimos’s hand. Talk about humiliating.

“Sure you will. Sure.” Deimos rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he thought through his next moves. He could just grab the other two and get on with his plans but…oh that ruined the fun of the chase! His plans and stomach could wait, he wanted to enjoy this just a little longer. Now what could he do to achieve such a thing? “And besides, that’s an ‘if’ to you, Doc. If you get back to normal. Can’t do that without my help after all, so maybe you should let me have my fun~”

“I will. Don’t think I- wait. What?” Well now that wasn’t something anyone stuck at four inches tall wanted to hear. Yes, he could probably figure out how the hell Deimos shrunk him (assuming that the hacker had gotten the information and technology from the AAHW) however Deimos had at least a bit of a point. Things would be so much easier, faster, and less dangerous if he just reversed whatever the hell he did. He….he fucking planned this. He- oh the younger hacker was in some deep shit once they were back and he was the smallest again.

“Mmm you heard me, 2b. Getting you three back requires the help of me, unless you’d rather be crushed under the boot of some agent trying to get back to normal yourselves.” Deimos hummed, his words practically swimming in cockiness. “And I don’t think any of us want that. So either you let me have my fun, or you three get to stay pocket sized until you do.”

“Deimos, don’t you even think about it.” Hank growled, eyes narrowing behind his goggles as he stepped closer to the hacker. Being this small was bad enough. It wasn’t like a MAG agent where they weren’t completely dwarfed in size. No. He was stuck the size of a fucking mouse being toyed with by their basically gigantic teammate. And to top it all off the threat of being stuck at this size now loomed over the mercenary’s head. Just fucking wonderful.

“Aw but what if I did, Hank?” The hacker asked with a raise of his eyebrow, turning his attention from the medic in his fist to the shrunken killing machine that was now glaring at him over his arm. It really was something else to see them so tiny when they usually towered over everyone. How the tables turn. “I would think this is a nice situation for you. So long as you’re hidden it’s not like the Agency could find you now. No ones gonna look for a four inch tall Hank, now are they- Hey! Sanford!”

The mentioned man’s head lifted from where he had landed on the table, 2b now laying next to him after a less than graceful ‘rescue’ from the younger hacker’s hand. His feet scrambled against the old table, attempting to gain enough traction to allow for him to stand. For a moment he looked as if he were trying to stand on ice, feet slipping out from beneath him. The doctor beside him wasn’t doing much better in the department of getting to his feet. Judging by the disappointed stare he felt burning two holes into his chest once he finally got to his feet, Hank wasn’t all that impressed with their sudden lack of coordination either. Wait, no. Hank could come later. Right now he had to deal with the giant Deimos that was currently pouting at him.

“Sorry Dei, but I’m siding with Doc here. Just put us back to normal before Hank decides to find a way to kill you at this size.” As Sanford spoke a tone far less confident then he had hoped for laced his words. Something that probably doomed him to not be listened to. Judging by the new level of cocky smeared across the hacker’s face? He was right too. Well shit. That didn’t help anything.

“Hmm…maybe but, and hear me out, I’ve got a better idea.” No one had to ask exactly what Deimos’ ‘better idea’ was. He was all too happy to demonstrate it, Hank quickly finding himself laying flat against the table with the hacker’s hand pinning him in place. The small shocked grunt from the mercenary didn’t go unnoticed by the other two, their eyes darting to their now trapped teammate. Both failed to notice the brief warning look in Hank’s eyes behind his goggles until it was too late, a warm calloused hand pinning them to the rough grain of the wood. Well, there went the idea of escape.

A sharp laugh chased away the silence that had previously filled the air. Beneath the rim of his visor two eyes simply watched as the three small forms writhed beneath his hands. Proof of the point he had been trying to prove. The point that his three shrunken teammates had wanted to be false. No way to escape now. Not unless he allowed for it, that is. A small lightbulb lit up in his head at the thought. The idea was tempting, were he to be completely honest with himself. Give his friends hope only to crush it like a spent cig under his boot once more by trapping them in a new way. Oh but then there was the option of dangling freedom just in front of them. That was an idea…and there were so many more possibilities too. In the back of his head a small voice attempted to grab Deimos’ attention. Yelling at him in every way it could think of that even thinking about doing that to his friends was wrong, even if it was playful at its roots. He shouldn’t do such a thing to them! Though, thinking logically, there was no way they wouldn’t do the same or something similar were their positions switched. Deimos knew that much, being the shortest of their gang. A soft scoff sounded from his throat, mind made up on the matter. Unfortunately for the three pinned to the table, in the end the voice of reason was all too easily ignored by the younger hacker as he adjusted to lean forward in his chair. The smell of cigarette smoke grew in strength with each hum that passed the man’s lips, the three pinned beneath his hands only able to watch as things seemed to get worse for them.

“Heh. Much better.” Deimos said with a smile, gladly ignoring the glares he was now getting from his little friends. “Now what shall I do with you-“

Ggnnnrrrr……

“-three….”

Anyone with half a mind would think that after being interrupted by your stomach you would be embarrassed and most likely apologize. The three shrunken men on the table thought that after being interrupted by his stomach Deimos would be embarrassed and probably laugh it off. Maybe even give them a chance to run without thinking. What they didn’t expect was for him to start laughing. A deep chuckle from the back of his throat too, not just an embarrassed little giggle. It was a genuine fucking laugh. First off, why the hell was he laughing? Second, what the hell did that mean for them? After a moment of thought one thing became clear. As much as they didn’t want to admit it, the three knew what the answer to the second question was long before it was even asked. Nothing good. That’s what it meant. Especially not with that dumb grin still sitting on his face. 2b, eyes locked on Deimos’ expression, had opened his mouth to attempt prying an answer out of the younger. Before a single word could leave his lips, however, his world was flipped on its head.

Literally.

For a brief second everything stopped. The warmth and pressure from the hand holding him to the table disappeared, cold washing over him and sending a shiver down his spine. That’s when a new type of pressure appeared. It was still rough and warm, the grip of a calloused hand for sure, but it was much more concentrated than just smashing him to the table. Specifically around his right ankle. His eyes couldn’t go ‘dinner plate wide’ any faster than they did the moment he felt said pressure appear. The less-than-manly scream he had heard beside him roughly half a second earlier started to make a lot more sense by the millisecond. Especially once he was dragged backwards and up, a very similar noise escaping himself. For a brief moment everything spun before his sight leveled out. What he didn’t want to see was Deimos grinning at him. Upside down.

“Annnd there we go. Sanford, Hank, I hope you guys still have a good grip at this size~.” The hacker jabbed, grinning at the little chain his friends had formed once he started picking them up. Pinched between his thumb, pointer, and middle finger was Hank’s torso. They were currently holding onto Sanford’s ankle, looking less than pleased with the situation they were in. Sanford was gripping onto the ankle of 2BDamned as he dangled, worry painting over his features. Then there was 2b, dangling at the end of the chain upside down with a look quite similar to Hank’s plastered on his face. All in all, quite the interesting little chain they made up as he leaned back in the chair.

“Damn straight. You two drop me and you’re dead.” The ‘medic’ grumbled, all too willing to make his displeasure known.

“Aw, don’t you worry, Doc. If they drop you I’ll make sure you have a nice, soft, warm landing~”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t want to be dropped on my hea- Deimos, what the genuine fuck does that mean?” He shouldn’t have asked. The moment after the words left his mouth 2b knew he never should have asked what the younger hacker had meant with his words. Dangling over the man’s lap having to stare him in the face while upside down wasn’t ideal. Absolutely not. However, he found much preferred it to dangling inches above Deimos’ open jaws, the smell of cigarette smoke laced breath hitting him almost as hard as the realization of just how sharp the man’s teeth were. He supposed he never noticed with Dei a. rarely ever purposely showing them off, and b. him being smaller than the older hacker. That didn’t stop him from mentally smacking himself upside the head for not taking more notes of it sooner though. Especially when he was getting so…up close and personal with them now. Fuck he was close to those daggers.

“Dei- Dei, think about this!” Sanford shouted as he stared down at the sight of the man’s open mouth, praying that his friend would listen to at least some reason. Sure, they gave him shit for being the smallest of the group often. He especially did. Not once though had he, or the other two as far as he knew, expected that said teasing would lead to them possibly having to spend the day trapped in said hacker’s gut though. If they had, they would have backed off a little. But now the threat was more present than ever. And knowing Deimos? It might be longer than a day too. He wouldn’t put it past the man at all. Jebus Christ….

“Oh I have San. We’re past that point now.” Deimos hummed, his tongue lazily snaking itself over his lips as he glanced over the string of teammates that dangled from his hand. Slowly his stare became distant, his mind beginning to wander. Just how would each of them taste exactly? Would they all taste the same? But what if they each tasted different? Now wouldn’t that be something. Perhaps he wasn’t too far off picturing Sanford as a juicy sausage in his little moments to himself. Oh that would be perfect. The warm feeling of drool trailed itself lazily down his chin, each thought regarding the possible tastes of his friends encouraging an empty rumble from his midsection. He just had to find out now.

“Deimos, lower me any further and I’ll make sure you choke to death.” The man only laughed, eyes fluttering shut as he opened his mouth once more.

“Sorry Doc. ‘S too late to stop now.” Any screams of protest from his teammates fell on deaf ears as Deimos lowered the end of the little chain into his mouth. Immediately he was hit with the taste of black coffee, hints of iron, and oddly enough what tasted like whisky poking through and tickling his tongue. The soft, pleased hum escaped him long before he could even think to stop it, his mind far more focused on getting that flavor to coat his tastebuds than his actions or the saliva steadily dripping down his chin.

2BDamned had a different opinion on the matter. Specifically about the claim that it was ‘too late.’ It was not too fucking late. In fact, it was anything but. Deimos’s mouth, which absolutely reeked of cigarettes might he add, was still wide open. He wasn’t slipping down the tight tube he could see in front of him yet. He was being rolled around and licked over like some sort of candy, something which he apparently had to remind Deimos he wasn’t with a smack to the tongue. Sharp teeth surrounded the unofficial doctor on both sides, Sanford’s grip on his ankle still like iron despite the saliva now thoroughly coating his body. Try as he might to push himself out with his hands they only slipped and slid across the wet surface of Deimos’s tongue. Far too similar to how he was steadily slipping backwards.

“Dei…Dei, you can pull us out now…” Sanford yelled up to the man, ducking his head between his arms to avoid the feeling of daggers dragging down his head and neck. Jebus, his teeth really were sharper up close. The white knuckled grip he held on 2b’s ankle refused to budge as he slipped further in, eyes locked into the sight before him. Not once did he ever expect to watch the older hacker slowly disappear down his best friend’s throat with nothing he could do but hold on and pray. Yet here he was. Fuck. “Dei-!!”

“Sanford, don’t even bother at this point.” 2b groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask. Deimos wasn’t going to listen to shit. That much was clear now if it wasn’t an hour and a half ago when they’d woken up in his hands. He didn’t want to admit it, not by a long shot, however as he slid further back there wasn’t any way the dissenter could convince himself otherwise. He, and the other two, were doomed. “He’s not going to-“

Ulp~

“…..listen. God damnit.” What else was he to even expect at this point?

Try as hard as he might, Sanford found he couldn’t grip the unofficial doctor’s ankle any tighter. Not without the possibility of breaking something, considering that he most likely had already passed the ‘try not to bruise the man’ stage. No doubt the clearly handprint shaped black and blue bruise would be there in a day tops. A scolding was nearly cemented in his future now, however Sanford couldn’t find it in himself to complain about it. Compared to the hole Deimos was digging himself, with a smile on his face no less, he’d gladly take the talking to. Speaking of the hacker, either he was genuinely out of it for some reason or he was just trying to be a grade A dick.

“Deimos!! Cut it out, man!” He yelled, trying his hardest to squirm away from the licks and shifting of the man’s tongue. Unfortunately for him, nothing seemed to work. It started at his hands but all too quickly the sensation of a wet tongue dragging itself up, over, and around the pyromaniac’s arms and to his torso. The dark lenses of his signature glasses fogged over with each warm breath that washed over his body. Goosebumps dotted all exposed skin, any fabric quickly becoming drenched with saliva. The sensations slowly crawled their way down Sanford’s body, more of him no longer dangling and instead slipping across the hacker’s tongue by the moment. He watched his hands, and by extension Doc’s feet, slowly slip beyond his vision into the void-like entrance of Deimos’ throat. His arms followed not long after, the darkness enveloping more of his vision by the second. Talk about a way to spend your day.

Glk~

A soft groan rumbled around the shrunken men, the sound’s maker all too lost in his thoughts. Tastes of warm sausage, coffee, and the lingering hints of whisky and iron danced across his tongue. Each lick up the parts of Sanford’s body which remained momentarily in his mouth brought a shiver up through his spine. With each second the small body inched further back, pulling his hand toward his mouth. His fingers and the body pinned between them slipped past the hacker’s lips with ease. Layers of cloth, along with the occasional sensation of scarred skin, pressed against his tongue. The taste of a rare steak and a much stronger metallic hint, again not unlike that of blood but somehow much more pleasant, seemed all too eager to attack his taste buds. His spine seemed to reduce itself to jello in a matter of seconds, relying on the backrest of his chair for support. The smoker pulled his fingers from his mouth with a small pop, jaws shutting around his final shrunken teammate and leaving his mind to ponder over the tastes and sensation attacking his mouth and mind alike.

The word ‘still’ had been completely wiped from Deimos’s dictionary, if it had even been there to begin with. At least that’s what Hank would have told anyone who asked. His eyes had narrowed behind his red tinted goggles and now they seemed to grow thinner with each movement from the muscle beneath him. As if the heat and lingering cigarette smell from the hacker’s breath weren’t enough, the wet feeling of saliva continued to sneak itself into every fiber of his being. First his skin, then lighter clothing items like his bandana and mask, and finally seeping through his coat and multiple other layers of clothing. And just what was a better cherry on top then being rolled around near constantly. Every moment they seemed to find themself in a new position within the confines of the young hacker’s mouth. While their grip remained on Sanford’s ankles, the same could in no way be said for his patience with the man who had caused this hell by shrinking them. He swore, Deimos better enjoy his time being able to hold them like dolls because the moment they were back to normal the man would be getting a firm taste of his own medicine. Whether it be by him serving as lunch or by another form of revenge was yet to be decided. Hank could only plot so much, though. Despite how much more bearable he found thinking about a way to ‘return the favor’ to Deimos to be, he needed to at least show a little of his own irritation to the man. After all, he wasn’t just some snack. They were still Hank J. Wimbledon god damn it, and they’d prove it if they had to. How he would do that remained a mystery for what felt like hours of constant licking and flipping…until said proof came. It came in the form of a kick to the inside of Deimos’ teeth. A kick which sent him sliding backwards-

Ulk-

Glp~

And the oddly shaped lump in Deimos’ throat disappearing behind his collarbone.

Deimos’ eyes had widened in shock, a hand quickly pressing itself to his throat as it happened. In his opinion, it happened too quickly. All too fast the warm weight disappeared from his mouth, pushing itself backwards with force into his throat. Far too soon did he lose the previously vivid taste of barely cooked meat and metal, leaving him with only the memory and lingering fragments of it like the other two tastes. Too quickly had the lump in his throat been pushed down by two final swallows, disappearing down behind his collarbone. For a moment he sat there in silence, the room lacking sound except for his heavy breathing. With each rise and fall of his chest he waited. Waited for the one thing that couldn’t seem to come fast enough. Moments passed with nothing before the feeling he’d been waiting for rushed his senses. A filling warmth pooled itself in his stomach, moving around against the walls of the organ and pulling a warm chuckle from the man. His hand trailed to rest over his stomach, feeling the small bodies shift and fight beneath layers of clothing, muscle, and skin. Fangs glimmering in a grin once again as he poked at the squirming fullness in his gut.

“Well look at that.” He laughed to himself, relaxing back into his chair. His stomach gurgled under his hand, what he guessed to be a thank you of sorts now that he had what he wanted within it. Though something told him the others wouldn’t be thanking him all that much. “How are you three holding up in there?”

“Deimos, do not laugh at us or so help me Jebus- Hank, get your arm out of my face!” The words were quickly followed by what Deimos could assume was 2b pushing Hank off him and into his stomach wall from what he could feel. Those three couldn’t seem to stay still. Well, he couldn’t truly blame them if he wanted to. It had to be slippery, trapped in a wet, moving organ like his stomach and all. The mental image of his three teammates slipping around in his stomach, trying their hardest to gain footing or at least a comfortable position, drew another laugh from him. This was great.

“Dei, c’mon.” Sanford added, giving his own kick to the wall in case he had failed to grab the hacker’s attention before. Try as he might to stay out of 2BDamned and Hank’s little squabble fate seemed to have other plans as he was shoved back into them every time he got away. Or maybe that was just Deimos being Deimos. “You’ve had your fun, now spit us out you chucklehead.”

“Mmm yeah no.” Deimos hummed, drumming his fingers mindlessly on his belly as he took in the little shocks that each harsh kick or punch sent through his body to his brain. Each movement registered in his brain as a pleasurable little shock, but the harsher they were the more enjoyment they seemed to cause him. Not that he was complaining. Last he checked his teammates could tire themselves out with squirming all they wanted to if it felt this nice. “See, that’s not really the plan here. Not for a few hours at least.”

“What now?” Sanford’s voice had dropped its hopeful tone, now more monotonous and serious. Beside him he heard a growl, one he assumed to be from Hank. Was the smoker trying to get them killed? Again he punched the wall. “Dei, quit joking.”

“I ain’t joking, ‘Ford.” The young hacker replied bluntly, his shit eating grin more than audible in his words. A long, over dramatic sigh made its way from his mouth with ease as he adjusted his position to one more comfortable. Or at least as comfortable as one could get in an old chair. Smiling to himself he gave his stomach a little shove, feeling the three bodies inside shift and move under the pressure. “I just wanna sit and enjoy this for a while. It feels too nice to just give up.”

Silence fell upon the three currently held within the confines of the man’s stomach, each sitting there taking in Deimos’ words until the pressure from outside had lifted. Once it did, they all reacted their own way. Hank, for example, sat still for about ten seconds tops before a punch was thrown at the wall. Sanford, on the other hand, debated whether Hank’s approach or his attempts at reasoning with their ‘captor’ would be more effective at getting Deimos to spit them up. Then there was 2BDamned, who sat in what would’ve been an unnerving silence had they not known him. Knowing him, though, changed the meaning of the silence from ‘is this man insane to be so calm?’ to ‘Deimos just dug himself a grave’ in a split second.

“Deimos,” The unofficial medic started, “you have ten seconds to at least start spitting us up or I will force myself back up your throat simply to beat your ass.” Despite the warmth of their current confines, a chill shot up Sanford’s back. As far as he knew, the last thing you wanted to be was at the end of Doc’s threats. The man often had little to no issue going through with them, and Deimos wasn’t some special case. The laughter they heard (and felt shaking their ‘cell’ for that matter) was all it took to solidify that Deimos didn’t take them seriously at this size. Guess said threats don’t work when you’re four inches tall at best and your ‘captor’ is a smug ass bastard.

“Ha! I’d like to see you try, Doc.” Deimos chuckled, giving his stomach a firm pat which only seemed to serve to jostle around its captives more. “I might not be able to handle spice like San’ but I do know my way around feisty snacks~.”

“We aren’t food, Deimos.” Hank growled, kicking the floor beneath him. The flesh sunk under his boot, a sickening squishing sound heard as a result. A small shiver trembled up the walls, one which failed to register with the black-clad mercenary as in pain. Oh just wonderful. The sharp toothed asshole was enjoying this.

“Mmm you sure, big guy? Cause you seem like food to me right now.” Within only a few seconds of the words leaving his lips the hacker found himself met with a pleasant shockwave up the spine. Clearly a certain black-clad mercenary didn't like being called food, if the fighting he felt wash over him like a tsunami of warm, fuzzy electricity meant anything. A soft groan crawled out of his lips, his hand lazily tracing circles over his stomach. ”mm oh c-calm down in there. I didn’t mean it. I will let you out, Jeez.”

“Deimos, this isn’t funny. Spit us out.” 2b snapped, kicking the floor.

“Mmm sorry, Doc. Can't hear you heheh…” the hacker spoke, words blurring softly as he melted back into the chair.

“I’m serious!” The words fell on deaf ears.

“Dei, c’mon…” Sanford this time. His eyes drifted softly shut.

“Dei…” His grin turned into a simple smirk.

“Dei…” Didn't he get he wasn’t spitting them out yet?

“Deimos…” Oh full names now. How fancy.

“Deimos..?” Wait…that didn’t sound right.

“Deimos.” Was he losing it?

…

“DEIMOS!”

The hacker jumped, blinking rapidly as his eyes darted around. What was going on? Where were they? Who did he need to kill? Where were the others? Thoughts rushed through his head as wide eyes darted around everything in sight, looking for something they recognized. Anything to show him where he was or what was going on. Relief came to him in the form of Sanford standing in front of him, a hand on his shoulder as if he was trying to get his attention. Most importantly though they were in their base. Safe. No one was here. They weren’t under attack. He was just daydreaming. Sanford and the others were here and he was just…daydreaming- oh damn it. Go figure it was too good to be true. A groan, this time annoyed, rang from Deimos’ throat.

“Jebus- Dude, are you alright?” Sanford asked, eyebrows knit with worry and…an emotion Deimos found himself unable to name. Like he’d seen something. Something…weird. Almost like concern but not at the same time. For a brief moment an idea reared its head, only to be smashed down like a weird game of whack-a-mole within the hacker’s mind. There wasn’t any need for such an absurd idea. It’s not like Sanford could have seen his little daydream. Nope, that was safe in his head. The smoker shook his head to clear it, quickly flashing Sanford a sharp toothed grin.

“Yeah man. Just zonin’ out and daydreaming a little ‘s all. Nothing to worry about here heheh,” he laughed, clapping his friend on the shoulder playfully. His eyes scanned the man’s face again, trying to see if his statement had done its job. Although the worry had dropped from Sanford’s face, the other emotion remained. Now what on earth was that for?

“Daydreamin’ huh? ‘Bout what?” The pyromaniac asked, raising an eyebrow. His eyes flicked from Deimos’ eyes to his mouth, then back again as he spoke. He didn’t seem to not believe Deimos when he said he was daydreaming, so what on earth was that look for? And why was he looking at his mouth so much? Giving into the call of curiosity the sharp-toothed hacker brought a hand up to his mouth, eyes widening mouth momentarily when his fingers found a trail of saliva dripping from his lips to his chin. He’d been drooling. Whoops.

“Eh. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Deimos lied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand which he then wiped on his pant leg. So that’s what Sanford had been looking at. Oh he must’ve looked downright stupid too. Well now wasn’t that just great? He just had to hope the Chad hadn’t decided to take a photo.

“Honestly I don’t even remember what it was about.” Liar, he remembered all of it. The vivid tastes, the squirmy fullness, the thrill-

Grrrnnnggg…

Ah shit. Busted by his own stomach. For a second the hacker sat there stunned, blinking dumbly as his cheeks heated up with a pink tint. Ok just play it cool Deimos. “….though if I had to make a guess? Food heh.”

“Yeah, that would make sense heh.” Sanford laughed softly, playfully jabbing the smaller man in the stomach. He seemed to buy Deimos’s story, bringing a sense of relief to the hacker. At least he wasn’t going to press on it. “Your stomach was anything but quiet, you know.”

“Go figure. And when I can’t say anything about it too.” Quickly laughter had found itself spilling from Deimos’ mouth, his mind having calmed down when he had heard the sound from the other man. He seemed less concerned, or whatever that emotion he couldn’t name right now was. As another grumble shook through his middle the hacker lowered a hand to rest over his stomach. He got it already. He was upset the daydream of his wasn’t real after all too. Not much more he could do besides try and find something to eat now though. “Say, I’m gonna go try and snag something to shut my gut up. Wanna come?”

“Nah, I’ll pass this time.” Sanford spoke with a small shake of the head and a smile. Try as he might to play it off as friendly, it seemed that odd emotion that Deimos couldn’t name was just bound to show itself in his words. “You just go shut that thing up before the Agency uses it to track us.”

“Oh ha ha. I’m going.” Deimos laughed, giving Sanford one last playful punch to the shoulder before running off. He had food to track down somewhere in this hellscape of Nevada, unless he wanted a beating from Doc that was. He just needed something small or, hell, even temporary if he happened to come across a shrunken grunt or agent. They would work out just fine so long as he didn’t let the others find out what he’d used to shut his stomach up. Couldn’t give away anything that could relate to his little hidden desires. The emptiness in his gut wasn’t something he’d wanted back, but alas, a daydream is only a daydream and he wasn’t getting any fuller just walking around. Now where would his best chance to snag someon- something be…

…

Sanford watched as his friend ran off, smile slowly fading as Dei disappeared from his line of sight. That look of caution slipped back onto his face as he slowly turned his back to head to his room. He needed a moment to think about what he’d just seen. Try as he might, he couldn’t just forget what was now burned into his mind. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the younger hacker had been daydreaming about if you had seen him while he was in the zoned out trance of his. Mouth wide open and drooling with a hand pretending to dangle something above it, an active stomach topping it all off like some sorta weird cherry on the sundae of his best friend’s little fantasy. Oh no, he knew what that meant. And hearing him mumble the names of their other teammates, along with his own, at least once through it all? It spelled out the man’s daydream in big neon lights. The very thought sent a shiver down his spine, despite how he tried his best to shake it off.

He wanted to believe it when he tried to tell himself that Deimos wouldn’t ever shrink them, much less try to eat them. He really did. All that he’d seen along with logic itself, however, pointed him at it with the firm proof that his words were lies. The man would no doubt take advantage of it, if he ever found a way to shrink them, even if he were to keep them as safe as possible. Just as he had with any unfortunate shrunken agents or grunts he happened upon when he was alone (or at least when he thought he was) Safe or not safe, the fact of the matter still stood. Sanford did not want to spend however long within the confines of his friend’s gut, especially if he wasn’t alone. Being in there had to be bad enough. Him not being able to do anything about it either only made the situation worse. Reasoning with the hacker was most likely hopeless and he wasn’t about to beg. What was left? Pray? God, if Deimos ever managed to get his hands on the Agency’s shrinking technology then one thing was downright certain. Boy were he, Hank, and 2b doomed…

#soft vore #mawedness combat #it took me long enough #but it’s finally done #i have so many ideas for fics based on drawings by a handful of artists #this one though…this one made me go for it and write it #congrats doodle #you and your art shot me with my own inspiration Gun #and I’ve just gotta say amazing work again #you were one of the main three/four who inspired me to write M4dc0m #anyway #I hope you enjoy the fic you caused :)

[yayeetsonny]

Always tell the truth~ USWNT x Baby Reader

A/N: Hi ya’ll, yes I’m still alive, I’m sorry I went MIA for Idk how many months. My life just got turned upside down and I got a job and I’ve just been so busy. But I’m officially back and will be getting to all the requests I’ve received soon. This wasn’t a request but I got this idea from another fic I read so I hope you enjoy - N

Y/N PRO//

At 18 years old I’ve got so many activities and responsibilities sometimes I wonder how I’m still functioning. I’m a senior in high school, an honor student, a theatre geek and most of all I’m a pro soccer player for the United States Women’s National team. Its amazing, I’m living out my dream of playing the greatest game alongside some of my idols and we’re like one big, goofy dysfunctional family. My parents, while they love me and support me, aren’t around much and aren’t the most attentive. But my teammates make up for it by acting like overprotective, hovering moms whenever we’re together. 

I’d just gotten to the facility where we were gathering for our first team training of this camp. I was extremely excited to see my teammates. 

 I walked into the meeting room quietly and I saw everyone just talking among themselves; they had yet to notice me, so I took full advantage of this. I walked up behind Mal, made a shh gesture to Alex who made eye contact with me and took a deep breath, then I let out an ear piercing yell. Mal and anyone else who hadn’t seen me jumped 10 feet in the air. Poor Mal was in a heap on the floor, clutching her chest while the others were laughing and trying to compose themselves.

“What the- Y/N!”

“That’s me!”

“Hey kiddo! Quite the entrance you made there.”

“I know, I apologize I just couldn’t resist. Sorry Mal.”

I helped her off the floor and wrapped her in a hug.

“You good?” I giggled

“Yeah, you just gave me a heart attack, no big.” She giggled back

I made my rounds, gave and received hugs and hellos and then I went to sit with everyone for the start of the meeting. I rolled up the sleeves of my hoodie and got comfortable since these meetings tend to be long. Alex was on one side of me and Mal was on the other. I didn’t notice the giant bruise on my arm but Alex did.

“Y/N? Where’d you get that bruise?”

“Bruise? What are you talking about?” I say looking at her like she had grown two heads.

“That nasty looking one, where’d you get it?” She said pointing at my arm but not breaking eye contact with me.

I looked at the bruise for a minute, studying it, trying to figure out where it came from. I genuinely couldn’t remember hurting myself or hitting my arm hard enough to leave a bruise

“Oh, uh I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Doesn’t it hurt?”

“No, not really.”

“Okay… are you sure you don’t know where it’s from?

“Yes I’m sure.”

“Okay well if it starts to hurt or gets worse for whatever reason let me know and I’ll get some cream for it.”

I could tell Alex didn’t believe the whole “I don’t know” response but its the truth and she let it drop anyways so whatever. 

Mal just looked at me curiously

“What was that about?” She whispered

“Oh nothing, Alex is just being overprotective as usual.” I whispered back

The meeting was long as I predicted but when it was finally over we were sent to change for practice. On the way there I let Mal hop on my back, once she was on and comfortable she yelled 

“Onward trusty steed!”

“Your wish is my command!” I said as we both giggled

I carried her all the way there and then gently set her down and went to get changed. 

I was talking to Christen whose locker happened to be next to mine and she was telling me about her dogs and how much she misses them, I was beginning to tell her about my dog and how much I miss him when I saw her staring at my arm.

“Hello? Earth to Christen?”

I waved my hand in front of her face trying to get her attention and after a minute it worked.

“Huh? Oh sorry, I don’t mean to stare, it’s just that bruise on your arm looks quite painful, what happened?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I can’t seem to remember.” I said shrugging

“You don’t remember? Are you sure?” She said looking at the bruise and back at me worriedly

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay.”

I could tell she too didn’t believe me but I’m not sure what else to say, I can’t just make up some story about what happened. Okay well I could but that would be lying and I’ve always been a terrible liar.

I decided to just forget about those two interactions for the time being and focus on giving my all this camp so that the coaches know I can be trusted to step up when they need me to. 

We started out with some warm ups, then did some sprints, passing drills, shooting drills, set piece work, PK practice and to wrap it up like always we had a scrimmage. My team consisted of, Chris, Alyssa, Crystal, Sam and myself, the other team consisted of Alex, Tobin, Ashlyn, Ali and Lindsey. 

The scrimmage was pretty normal, a few goals for each side my team unfortunately coming up short by one goal, as the other team celebrated my teammates and I pretended to be upset and pouted about the loss. 

“Oh cheer up guys, you’ll get us next time… maybe.” Ash said giggling

“Yeah, yeah. You guys only won because I got distracted by a butterfly on that last play.” Sam said 

Everyone just stared at her blankly

“What? It was really pretty! Didn’t you guys see it?”

We all just started cracking up at that. I was able to pull myself together enough to ask the question everyone was thinking

“You-you really got distracted by a butterfly during the game Sammy?”

“Yes, and?”

“It’s just as funny hearing it a second time” I said before laughing again 

“You guys are mean.” She pouted

“You love us.” Ali said, reaching up and ruffling Sam’s hair. 

After practice the team all got on the bus and went back to the hotel we were staying at. Vlatko booked out a whole floor just for us since he knows how loud we can be and didn’t want to deal with angry neighbors. Not again, after last time. This time I’d be rooming with Ali, we didn’t get put together often but I always enjoy when we do. It helps us bond and I’m always learning new things about her. 

I was going to meet them there later however because I had to go see my parents at their request, my dad said something about it being urgent. I got in a team van and went to see them.

After several hours I was finally able to go back to the hotel and be there for the rest of the night. My parent’s seem to have had a change of heart about my career choice, they went on and on about the sudden need for me to join the family business and how my only goal in life should now be to live up to their legacy. I hated every minute of it, I was so ready to get Into my comfortable clothes and head to get something to eat. When I got to the room I’d be sharing with Ali I opened the door to an empty room. She must be with Ash. I thought.

 I decided to get changed and see if I could find her. As I was changing I didn’t hear the door open and only knew my roommate had arrived when I heard a gasp

“Y/N… What happened babe?”

“Ali, Hi. What do you mean? Nothing’s happened.”

“ So that big bruise on your arm, the one on your shoulder and the one going all the way down your spine aren’t anything?” 

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You obviously know what I’m talking about.”

“No I don’t, I only knew about the one on my arm, after Alex pointed it out. Otherwise I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the mirror in the bathroom, spun me around and said 

“Those bruises, Y/N, where’d you get them?” 

“Oh… I don’t know.” 

“Yes you do.”

“No I don’t, that’s the truth.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and besides, we are soccer players, I probably just got them in practice.”

“Y/N… I’ll ask again, where are those bruises from?”

“I. Don’t. Know.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fine then, don’t believe me. First Alex, then Christen and now you. This is just great, my teammates think I’m a liar. Well I’m not and I’m telling you the truth.”

I brushed by her and stormed out of the room, now determined to avoid my teammates so they’d stop asking questions and questioning my honesty.

I’m not a liar. I don’t know where I got the bruises, I don’t know why they won’t believe me.

A/N: Okayyyy... sorry for the sort of cliff hanger? I can’t type anymore for now because my wrists hurt too bad. (Work messed them up lol) so this’ll be a two part imagine, sorry!- N

Not really edited

#USWNT #uswnt fic #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #mal pugh #Alex Morgan #Christen Press #ali krieger #Ashlyn Harris #sam mewis #the whole team will appear

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Movement (1/?)

This is dedicated to @peachworthy - my plan is to work on this when I can. I was going to try and write a full long thing (all puns intended) but thought it might be fun to just do sporadic bits instead!

“As you can see, it’s a pretty nice place…” Mr. Super Tall and Super Handsome and Super-Out-of-Link’s-League tells him as he walks him around the place. Link’s only been half listening because he’s been trailing behind this uniquely sexy giraffe of a man for about half an hour now and it’s been hard to not just…eat him up with his eyes.

Link’s lived in LA for about two years now and while he’s seen some attractive people, they all pale in comparison to…

…oh gosh, he’s forgotten his name again! Not a good thing to do when being toured by your potential roommate to be. Although Link’s pretty sure his current tour guide is just being nice.

No way he’s seriously considering letting Link move in. First of all, Link is a late in life college student trying to get a film degree. Second, this guy could have anyone live with him.

Anyone.

The fact he even needs a roommate is staggering. After all, this place is already furnished. It’s clear he’s lived here for a while now – so the need for someone else-? Link doesn’t get it.

But he sure as heck can’t stay on campus anymore. It’s embarrassing. Most of the other students there think he’s a professor as it is; and bunking with kids half his age has been a nightmare.

Not because he can’t identify with them per say, but because he just-? He wants to interact with people on the same wavelength as him.

And no way is this Greek God and he on the same wavelength. No doubt the guy’s an actor. Almost everyone in LA is. And, no doubt, the guy has probably had some gigs. Several, if the house is anything to go by…

Maybe he lost a role recently? Maybe that’s why he needs the extra income? It’s the only thing Link can think of and he’s stupid enough to voice that, “It is a nice place, man, but I don’t see how I’ll be much help. What you’ve got here looks pretty well lived in. Take it you’ve been here solo for some time and I’m not sure how-?”

“I have,” Handsome admits and oh, that southern drawl. It makes Link think of home. How perfect can one man be? “And, frankly, I don’t need a roommate, but I’d like a roommate.”

“For parts? Like the Black Market?” Link can’t help but joke, and the guy throws his head back and laughs and oh, no…

…Yeah, Link can’t live with this man. It hasn’t even been a full day and Link is practically already in love with him. And thinking of the ‘him’ he forces himself to sheepishly ask, “Um, I, ah, forgot your name again...”

“It’s Rhett.”

Of course it is.

Rhett is such a romantic name.

Rhett Butler immediately springs to mind and Link sighs, “Look, Rhett – like I said, it is a nice place, but-!”

“I tell you what I’d expect in rent?” he asks and when he lists the price, Link decides that – besides being insanely attractive – that the guy is just insane in general.

The rent is cheap. Far, far cheaper than Link expected and it must show on his face, because Rhett shrugs, “Look, Link – I can’t say what it is, but I gotta feeling about you. I’ve met with a couple of potential roommates and, honestly, none of them have gone this far. I haven’t let ‘em. But there’s something about you…”

“My natural charm?” Link asks, but he’s sort of giggly and weird when he does and oh, gosh – why is he so awkward? Isn’t he too old for this? Don’t you reach a certain age and awkwardness just…drops off?

But apparently not and, apparently, Rhett isn’t turned off by it, because he gives him a warm grin, “Might be.”

“Rhett…”

“Might be the accent to be honest,” he confesses, seeming almost shy and that should be illegal, because it just highlights how cute he is, “I’m from North Carolina and it just-!”

“Hey!” Link perks up, “Me too!”

“Really?” Rhett gushes and Link nods, “Yeah, Buies Creek.”

“Oh! My family and I almost moved there! Ended up in Charlotte instead!”

“Wow! Crazy! What are the odds!” And Link hates every cliched thing coming out of his mouth right now, but he can’t seem to stop and Rhett just looks so damned pleased.

As if his feeling about Link is right on the money and Link wishes it was, but this can’t possibly work. Can it? And just as Link is about to voice that, Rhett suddenly looks…apprehensive. Fidgety.

And Link’s caught a bit off guard by it, because – up until now – he’s been so cool. Cool and collected. But now Rhett runs a hand through his thick mane of hair and sighs as if a great weight is upon him, “Ah…actually, I, ah, well – I forgot…”

Here it is. Link’s been waiting for this. The big secret. The big reason someone as amazing as Rhett would need someone like him. Maybe it is the Black Market thing. Link has some nice organs. Real juicy. Maybe revealing his background has made the big guy feel bad – like he can’t carve up a fellow North Caroliner.

Rhett rocks on his heels, “I told you, none of the other potential roommates made it this far and…there’s a reason for that. Even the one or two I kinda considered…well, I, um, I told them what I do for a living and that’s when things sort of fell apart…”

…oh shit. He IS a Black Market organ dealer!

Link’s Adam’s apple bobs as he looks around skittishly. The house is big and they’re alone in it. He’s been so distracted by how hot Rhett is that he hasn't even thought about that fact.

Until now.

What if the other potentials didn’t get this far because they got cut up beforehand? Maybe the whole roommate thing is a farce! Maybe it’s a con! A con to draw people in and-!

“I work in the entertainment industry.”

Link blinks. Blinks and feels like the dumbest man on planet earth as he says, “Well, yeah. You and half of LA. Heck, I’m here trying to get into film myself! Do some directing or sound editing or-!”

“No,” Rhett says firmly, smoothly, meeting Link’s eyes head on as he says in a full deep register, “When I say I work in the industry, I mean it. I’ve, um, had a pretty healthy and…and long career…”

“Really?” Link asks, eyes wide behind his glasses, “Have I seen anything you’ve-?”

“Doubt it,” Rhett interrupts with a humorless huff, “You don’t seem the type. But then,” he eyes him thoughtfully, “I’ve been surprised before…”

Link doesn’t know why he’s being so cagey about this, “What’ve you-?”

“My resume is…” Rhett finally looks away, as if he can’t bear to look at Link when he says it, “…of the adult variety.”

“The adult-?” Link starts to repeat and then it clicks. It clicks and it hits him so hard over the head it’s like a physical blow. The house, the handsomeness – the…everything.

Rhett looks back at him, jaw firmly set as he speaks, “Look, it’s not that I’m ashamed of what I do. Far from it. It’s just a job and it’s one I happen to be good at. But it’s also one that people in polite society aren’t too keen on and considering you’re from my home state you might-!”

“Porn?” Link croaks out and he feels a little like he might faint, “You’re a porn star?”

Rhett just kind of shrugs and the reason Link feels lightheaded has nothing to do with his shock at the man’s career and everything to do with the fact that Link has only seen a few porn films and none of them have ever stared someone so breathtakingly beautiful. The idea that Rhett has been in something like that…

Heat suffuses through Link’s system with equal mixes of lust and shame. Lust because, well, look at Rhett and shame because Link doesn’t want to just view the man as a sex object, Granted, that’s kind of his job, but it just seems…rude.

While Link doesn’t know Rhett well, he knows him well enough at this point to say he’s just a regular guy. An extremely gorgeous regular guy, but a regular guy all the same.

Thinking of him in simple black and white just doesn’t do him justice. So he’s a porn star. So what? He’s nice and this place is amazing and the rent suggested is fantastic and-!

“Take it by your silence you’re gonna decline…”

“No!” Link cuts in quickly and Rhett’s eyes shoot to him, wide and amazed, and Link feels a little sense of superiority at that. At catching this giant off guard, “No, uh – your…your profession isn’t a problem.”

“It’s not?”

“Well, I mean,” Link looks around once more, "You don’t-? You don’t film here, do you?”

The laugh that booms out of Rhett at that makes Link’s toes curl with pleasure, “Nah, man. This place is sacred. Like to keep my personal and professional life separate.”

“And…” Link scratches at the back of his head, “And you won’t, like…bring over a-a partner or partners and-!”

“Don’t have one,” Rhett admits and then the sexiest crinkles form around his eyes, “Although I gotta say, that’s about the slickest way anyone’s ever asked me if I was single…”

The heat from before returns full blast, no doubt coloring Link’s cheeks pure red and it comes completely from shyness, an emotion he is much more familiar with than most, “Oh, no! I-I wasn’t-!”

“Think you were asking if I do some weird sex shit here in the house of the personal variety and, again, no. You work in my field you kinda lose a bit of a taste for it.”

“For sex?”

Rhett nods, “And for a lot of things. It’s like I said – I'd like a roommate. Mainly ‘cause I’ve been feeling a little…disconnected of late. Feel like I need someone in my life who isn’t in the business. Someone I can just, y’know…” his shoulders roll and he bobs about a bit, clearly bashful, “…jam with.”

“Someone on your wavelength…” Link whispers and suddenly, Rhett’s idea that Link might be someone worth keeping around feels totally legitimate. Because Link is suddenly reciprocating it and then some. Because Link's starting to have a feeling about him too.

A feeling that this could work.

It really could.

And, this in mind, Link asks, “When can I move in?”

#rhink #randl #my writing #now one of my earlier question posts becomes clear does it not? #the title is from a hozier song #because that song sounds sexy and i couldn't think of anything else!

[the-dragongirl]

Hello tumblr. I have returned from a long period of inactivity, because I must bring the good word to the corner of the Star Wars fandom that used to be my main fannish home: there is a new era of Star Wars canon that was made just for our taste. It is called the High Republic.

WHAT IS THE HIGH REPUBLIC?

The High Republic is an giant multi-media project being carried out by the Lucasfilm story group to create a brand new era of Star Wars canon. It is set a few hundred years before the prequel era (so, a long time after the Old Republic era), in a period of peace and stability within the Republic. It currently includes several English language adult novels, a YA novel, two serialized comics, a manga, some short stories, and some short video blurbs published on facebook and youtube. A TV show for Disney+ has also been announced, but is a few years off. This project is unique in Star Wars, in that all of the different parts are being written together by one writing team, and are coordinated to tell a cohesive story. Also, what has been announced is just the beginning – they have stated that there will be three different sections of the High Republic, and everything we have had announced so far is just part one. As a note: this is an era for which there was NO pre-existing canon in Legends, so it is totally new territory.

OKAY, THAT’S NICE, BUT WHY SHOULD I BOTHER TO CHECK IT OUT?

There are SO many reasons why the High Republic is worth your time to explore. I will try to outline some of them here below the cut (without any significant spoilers).

IT IS A LOVE LETTER TO THE JEDI

This is the era for everyone who loves the Jedi and wants to understand how they got to the point they did in the prequel era. It shows Jedi at their best: saving people, working together, being completely in tune with the Force (in so many beautiful and original ways), demonstrating creativity and flexibility and being rewarded for it, actually thinking through the ethics of things like the mind trick, and DEALING with their emotions rather than repressing them. It shows us how the rigid Jedi culture was saw in the prequels was a corruption of something that was originally healthy and uplifting. Jedi in this era are allowed to be flawed, and to grow, and have a community that supports them in doing so. This is the Jedi culture so many of us created as fix it fic for the prequel era, but made canon.

IT IS AN ERA OF HOPE

There are some serious problems in the High Republic Era. Without spoilers, the era opens with a terrible humanitarian crisis, laid over the Republic equivalent of the New Deal from US history.  We see a lot of examples of people doing their best to be good to each other, and working for a more just and kind galaxy. They acknowledge that things are not perfect, but people from many different backgrounds (Jedi, politicians, farmers, pilots, business people) work together to try and make things better. I don’t know about you all, but with the darkness we see in the world today, I NEED some of that optimism in my escapist media. The High Republic provides that.

IT WILL GIVE YOU FEELINGS

The existing material so far is structured to really let you emotionally invest in the characters and their struggles. Unlike with many eras of Star Wars canon, characterization is not sacrificed for the sake of plot (though never fear, there is PLENTY of plot). That means there is huge scope for empathy. I’m not going to lie; I cried within the first three chapters of Light of the Jedi, as did several other people I know. It is POIGNANT in a way that feels truly genuine.

IT IS FUN

The writing team understands that, in the end, Star Wars is space fantasy. If your space fantasy is nothing but serious, gritty grimdark, it becomes pretentious and unbearable. So, for all that there is some heavy content in the High Republic (VERY heavy content – the Nihil should really have their own content warning), it has many moments of levity that keep it from taking itself too seriously. For example, the High Republic made Jedi bodice rippers canon. Also, characters like Geode exist (yes, that rock there is a CHARACTER). The result is something which honors the spirit of Star Wars, and keeps you engaged without being tedious or ridiculously depressing.

THE WRITING TEAM HAS DIVERSE PERSPECTIVES

The main writing team consists of five people: Justina Ireland, Claudia Gray, Charles Soule, Daniel José Older, and Cavan Scott. You will note that includes two people of color, two women, and one out Queer person (in fact, one of the writers is all three of those things). This is a far cry from the white-cis-straight-man-dominated writing teams we have seen in the past. And when they bring in other people to the project, they make a point of looking for perspectives that aren’t represented on their team – for example, the manga is being co-written between Justina Ireland and Japanese writer Shima Shinya, and Ireland has stated in interviews that Shinya is taking the lead on the writing.

IT VALUES MEANINGFUL REPRESENTATION

That diverse writing team means a cast that looks WAY more like the real world than any other era of Star Wars we’ve seen, in terms of representation. There are multiple characters of color, who are both heroes and central to the story. There are at least five canonical queer characters to date (a MLM couple, an Ace character, and two NB character).  [EDIT: Thank you @legok9​ for letting me know about the NB characters]. Among binary gendered characters, there is a very even balance of men and women. The writing team has also stated that they will be incorporating more representation of disability in the works to come. And the story is so much better for it – representation is included here BECAUSE it makes for more creative, believable, and original storytelling.

IT IS ACCESSIBLE

Because of the multiple formats, and the fact that it doesn’t rely on you knowing any prior lore, the High Republic offers many avenues to engage for people with all kinds of needs. Know nothing about Star Wars canon and feel intimidated about catching up? The canon is all new in this era anyway, so you’re fine. Can’t handle flashing lights? No problem – the little bit of video content that exists is totally free from the strobing effects that caused seizure and sensory issues. Need purely audio content? You can still have a full experience of the High Republic with the gorgeously sound-scaped audiobooks. Don’t have the attention span for books or long movies? Then the comics are your friend.

THERE IS SOMETHING FOR ALL

Between the books aimed towards adults and teens (and their respective audiobooks), the kids books, the comics, the manga, the short stories, AND the eventual TV show on Disney+, there is going to be content in the High Republic that suits most audiences. And that is just what has been announced so far – there is still more to come for phases II and III. This isn’t Star Wars written towards one group or demographic – it is Star Wars for everyone.

DID I MENTION THE FANCY JEDI UNIFORMS?

Because cosplayers and fanartists? This is the era for you. We are getting Jedi in silks with elaborate gold embroidery. Jedi with jewelry other decorative elements. Even the practical field uniforms have tooled and embossed leather. If you want to draw or make Jedi that have some of that that sweet LoTR-esque high fantasy aesthetic, the High Republic has your back. (Not going to lie – I am ALREADY imagining the time travel AUs. Put Obi-Wan in fancy clothes!)

OKAY, YOU’VE SOLD ME. WHERE SHOULD I START?

I strongly recommend everyone looking to get into the High Republic (who is old enough to be on Tumblr) start with Light of the Jedi by Charles Soule. I alternated between the physical book and the audio book, and found it delightful in both formats. After that, you have a lot of options. You can read or listen to the audio book of the YA novel A Test of Courage by Justina Ireland. You can check out the currently running Star Wars: The High Republic comic from Marvel, or the Star Wars: The High Republic Adventures comic from IDW. Or you can skip straight to Into the Dark by Claudia Gray. Honestly, there is no wrong order to try out most of the High Republic.

IN CONLUSION

The High Republic is Star Wars written for people who DON’T want Star Wars to be a good ‘ol boys club for salty white dudes who don’t want to see anything but more of Luke Skywalker. It offers broad representation, and optimistic narrative, and whole bunch of awesome Jedi content. If you are someone who fell in love with Jedi in the prequel era, the High Republic will give you more of what you loved. And if you are totally new to Star Wars? The High Republic is here for you too.

So, go check it. And then go write fic for it (please, there are only, like, 14 fics on AO3, I am dying).

#star wars #the high republic #jedi #long post #recs #book recs #representation #seriously I cannot recommend this highly enough #everything about the high republic is so very tailored to what I love about star wars in general and Jedi specifically #also...sorry I had been absent here #I swear I still love you all #I just have limited interaction spoons these days and spend most of them on costuming stuff

[vynsvision]

*This became a long post about general headcanons of the NXX boys and their feelings and behaviors on Halloween.*

I wonder what each of the boys would think of Halloween. Luke and Marius would obviously have a blast, Vyn would be more interested in the history than the actual holiday and would be That Guy to be like "well actually the *real* holiday is tomorrow, All Saints Day" (luke: "vyn shut up and have fun!!") and Artem... he could either be super soft and totally down to do something simple w MC in private or would just totally veto it.

Anyway I would personally have the most fun with Luke and we'd drag Marius along too. "Just because you're a CEO doesn't mean you have to refrain from fun. You haven't shut up about wanting to participate. Throw on a mask and it'll be a blast."

Because, really, I think Luke is the only one to have gotten to participate in Halloween. (And/with MC, of course.) He, out of the boys, was probably the one with the most average childhood and therefore had the ability to dress up and go get candy from the neighborhood. Luke and MC's costumes probably match most years- of course, they probably have a Sherlock and Watson costume ready at any time. I think, too, that Luke would totally be down to swap roles and be Watson to MC's Sherlock. (We get it, we know it, hes whipped for them.) Overall, very excited for spooky season.

Marius definitely always wanted to trick-or-treat, but he A) didn't have a lot of peers in his neighborhood and B) wouldn't be allowed because what if someone was sneaking through our neighborhood to snatch him away? Once, when he was young, he got to drive through a neighborhood full of kids his age running around strangers' yards with costumes on and bags or buckets full of candy. He was unusually quiet that evening, even after they left that neighborhood. His parents were probably too busy to notice.

So when he gets an invitation from MC and Luke, he quickly accepts and internally freaks out (/pos) because oh my gosh I finally get to participate in Halloween!

In my scrolling through the ToT tag today, I came across some posts hc'ing that Artem is autistic. I dont 100% agree but then again its an hc and who am I to be a bitch.

That said, Artem definitely is a wildcard- a chill one, of course. He hasn't had any rom or sexual relationships, he clearly prioritized his school over friendships, and I dont think we've seen him be very... shall I say, culturally aware? Of course, he knows about holidays, but since he probably hasn't changed much since childhood- and Halloween is a very community-based tradition, in which he doesnt have much community (friends)- he probably just didn't have the interest in the holiday. Or, in a similar vain to Marius, never got the chance. Or he simply thought it would be embarrassing to admit he wanted to go trick-or-treating to his parents because like. Since When did you want to go and partake in stuff with people and dress up. Its not my-hc-child-Artem's vibe.

If invited, he may go along... to make sure no one gets lost. Like a designated driver. He would probably snap some pictures when the three costumed NXX members aren't paying attention. He also finds MC exceptionally attractive in their costume but he can't and won't admit that.

Vyn, finally, is most familiar with the holiday in the textbook sense. Hes never partaken (partook??), hes from Svart for gosh sakes, they don't have something like this. He would definitely be fascinated by the holiday, considering if you ask someone (like me) why they like the holiday so much, people flounder for an answer or reply "for the vibes", "I like dressing up", or "free candy and the community is out at night! What not to love?". While perhaps logical, these things don't make emotional sense. People just like this holiday. Its not easy to explain why.

He would come along, at first, to observe. Traditions are usually deep-rooted, and he would have all the facts about All Hallow's Eve and All Saints' Day and the Celtic lore and traditions of old. He would share these facts when the conversation of the group got quiet, and nobody would complain.

Everyone is in a good mood on Halloween night, and MC cherishes the good-natured and relaxed conversation and company of four powerful men. MC probably feels safest walking along a dark street with any one of the boys- but all four? Nothing can touch them.

I may edit or write more on this, and I may even write little fics as if MC just asked one of them to go with them. We'll see if there's demand.

#tears of themis mc #vyn ritcher #tot #artem wing #tears of themis #marius von hagen #luke pearce #halloween #ToT Halloween #tears of themis headcanon #tot hc #vyn ritcher headcanon #artem wing headcanon #luke pearce headcanon #marius von hagen headcanon

[cringe-central]

Love Languages

The Lost Boys: Seperate

Giving vs. Recieving

A/N: Im so sorry this took so long to complete. I just started a new job so things may take longer, but ill still be writing. The next fic will most likely be poly with you and the boys getting together. 

David

Giving: Gifts

David enjoys giving gifts that remind you of who you belong to. He's not good with emotions so giving momentos, to David, is a good way of showing his love.

David gives gifts to show you that even if he isn't around, he's thinking about you. He also uses gifts as an excuse to take care of you. He views himself as your protector and wants you to know that he can and will provide for you. 

If he sees you looking at something for just a little too long, he will totally pay for it, legally, with money. He definitely won’t steal it if that's what you're thinking. But whether it's gained via dubious means or not, it's yours. David is basically a criminally inclined sugar daddy. 

If you make an off comment about being hungry? You're getting food. You tell him he doesn't have to get something for you? That's too bad, it's not even a question to David, you're getting taken care of. 

David just wants to provide and protect, just let the boy take care of you the only way he knows how.

Receiving: Physical affection

David is very touch starved under all that angst, pride, and daddy issues. Although he wont admit it, he needs to be given affection, badly. 

Before he met you it never bothered him, he had the boys and he didn't need more than that. But when you came into his life, and you held his face in your hands? He realized how much he missed being held by another.

He's never thought highly of humanity, but your warmth pressed against him and feeling the steady rise and fall of your chest under his hand hits him in his cold, undead heart.

In public, PDA is kept at a minimum with David so he can keep up his rough and tough persona. He acts annoyed when you get clingy, but it's painfully obvious that he actually adores it. If you want to force him to hold your hand he'll complain about it, but he wouldn't dare move away from you.

In private however, all bets are off. Chairs aren't allowed, you're either on his lap or laying on top of him. Worry about his legs falling asleep? Don’t, he's already dead, they physically can't fall asleep. You aren't going anywhere sweetheart. If you're standing? He's wrapping his arms around your stomach.

If for some reason he moves his hands away while cuddling and you bring his hands back, He swears he can almost feels his heart start beating again. He finds you adorable when you're like this. It makes David smile when he sees your look of mock offense when he takes his arms away from you.

Cuddle this man. He may try to act all tough and intimidating, but he just wants to be held.

Dwayne

Giving: Acts of Service

Dwayne likes making your life easier, he's not a big talker but he knows that actions often speak louder than words.

He's a vampire, so the biggest stress factor the boys have is being found out and staked, but other than that he and the boys live a carefree life. He knows being a human is often very difficult. Picking up on your stressors and helping make your life easier is how he shows affection best. 

Often if you're really busy, Dwayne will pick up food for you and make you take a break before helping you finish what you were doing. If you feel unwell in the slightest he’ll be there in a second to take care of you. Dwayne is also very tall, and will always get things down from above without even needing to be asked, it's basically a reflex at this point. 

 It's not uncommon for Dwayne to finish those last edits of an essay you were writing. He'd do more than that but he knows you'd be upset with him if he did. If you worry about taking advantage of him, Dwayne assures you that isn't the case. Taking that weight off of your shoulders makes him feel not only wanted, but needed.

Dwayne needs to know he's taking care of you, he's never been one to show love through words but you never go a day without feeling it.

Receiving: Quality Time

Ever since you and Dwayne became a couple, you've been the first thought in his head every morning, wanting to get feedings done sooner so he could spend time with you.

Dwayne has a lot of free time on his hands and during the time he spends with you, every possible ounce of attention you could give him was given. He adored those long conversations where you went on and on about whatever your current hyperfixation was. Even if you felt as if you annoyed him by simply rambling about a topic, he found those moments intimate and special.

Museum and Bookstore dates were very common between the two of you. Debates and deep conversations were a favorite of his, you both respected each other and your opinions. 

For museums, he would watch you stare at the exhibits in wonder while he told you of what history he remembered in certain pieces. Though he wasn't too old by vampiric standards, you would ask him all sorts of questions about the eras he's lived in. He's very quiet, but it's on these dates where you can get him going.

Bookstore dates are quieter, there was one a little ways away from the hotel that stayed open later into the night. Once a week, you and Dwayne would try to get there as soon as possible and stay there until they kicked you out. You would buy (definitely not steal) books and walk back to the beach or, if it was particularly cold, back to the cave. You two would then read them and discuss the book until the next bookstore date.

Paul

Giving: Physical Touch 

Paul loves giving affection, he takes offense to any moment spent without his S/O in his arms. He knows his reputation, and keeping you close shows that you're not to be fucked with. Many girls may try to get his attention, but they will never be the ones on Paul's hip and you take that as a badge of pride.

Paul enjoys the summer, his cool body is perfect for giving a lot of cuddles during that time. The colder months are heavily disliked by both you and him because of you body needing to stay warm, but Paul gives the best hugs, to the point where you begin to crave his touch.

Paul's worst fear is you feeling ignored or unloved; if you two have been physically distant he will immediately rectify it as soon as he can. This boy will never let his S/O go un-snuggled. Every time you're upset you are swept into Paul’s lap with your head tucked under his chin.

When you're at the boardwalk, your hand is always in his or his arm is around your shoulders. If you two are sitting down then you'll be in his lap. The boys may tease him about it but he doesn't mind, he's proud to show you off. 

Paul is a himbo at the end of the day, he's not good with words and has said the wrong thing before, but through his actions you are shown how truly loved and valued you are to him.

Receiving: Words of Affirmation

Paul is a very literal person, he enjoys when you tell him what's on your mind, and he adores listening to you talk. Listening to you talk is the highlight of his night.

Even though Paul shows love through physicality, he needs to be told the words I love you. The first time you told him those three simple words he became pretty emotional. He couldn't remember the last time someone genuinely told him he was loved, and here you were confirming your mutual affections for each other. He's so soft for you man. 

You always tell him how much he is admired and adored as you hold his face in your hands, and Paul melts every single time. He finds a lot more pride in his clothing and hair after you rave about how amazing he looks.

He values what you say above everyone else's opinion, and if you like the new thing he did with his eyeliner you notice he does it significantly more. Paul is the definition of jokester, but when you tell him what he said made you laugh he takes it to heart. 

Paul loves being a vampire, but sometimes he needs you to say you aren't afraid of him. That despite what he is, you still feel safe around him. Even the toughest of people feel insecure sometimes and you're willing to do whatever he needs to feel okay again.

Marko

Giving: Physical affection

There's a reason him and Paul are best friends, sometimes a bro needs a hug. And though his motto was always ‘bros before hoes’ something was missing. There was a level of affection he longed to give, but never could. 

When he met you and he was finally able to give those romantic affections, he went overboard. Always holding you and touching you in some way, you weren't let out of his grasp for weeks. Any time you needed to leave the cave to go home, Marko would whine and beg you to stay with him for a little while longer. Any time he could convince you to stay the night, he would be ecstatic. 

Marko is very happy to know that someone loves him for him, and he is determined to show that in every single moment of your relationship. If you had a distant boyfriend before? Destroy those expectations, because you got the clingiest vampire in the lost boys. 

He loves to scent mark on you, a giant vampire thing, it's like a drug to this angel faced sweetheart. Having his scent melding with yours as you two roam the boardwalk drives the boy insane. Marko is very possessive, and he can't help but nuzzle into your neck or wrap his arms around your torso so that everyone knows you're taken. 

Much like his best friend, Marko is also a himbo. He needs you close to him and if you aren't he becomes whiny. The next time you see him, you won't be leaving his grasp any time soon.

Receiving: Gift giving

Marko is an artistic being and he appreciates gifts that have effort put into them. Things that are bought are nice, but if you spent hours making something? He doesn't care what it is, he will love it.

If you made him a bracelet, he'd wear it every day. If you paint, you'd notice pieces of art taped onto the wall, growing with every piece you make him. If you bake? What you make him is gone in a day. His favorite gifts however are the patches you make him, sewing them on and admiring the intricate detail put into each one. 

Everything you make him or give him is valued, keeping anything and everything tangible in a wooden box that Marko painted himself. He protects that box with his life, keeping it in the most protected place in the cave.

If you write him letters he stores them in the box and he reads them by the fire pits when he can't sleep, which helps him get some shuteye. He treasures every little thing you give him, but to Marko, you are the true gift. Each of those momentos being a simple reminder of the wonderful being who made them.

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys #the lost boys marko #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys paul #this took me so long to complete im so sorry

[berrynarrybanana]

Prince Charming - H.S

A/N: So I apparently posted this as private, but I have fixed that! This is my entry for @hunflowers​ Halloween Fic Challenge! Gianna, I hope that you had the most amazing birth month and the best Halloween. I wrote this little bit about spooky baking with H and a big surprise. I hope that everyone had a great halloween and I hope that you enjoy this fic! 

Word Count: 6k+

Warnings: A shitty ex, smut, so much fluff “Harry, darling, please put that down.” I reached out, grabbing the ice cream scoop from his hand with a breathless chuckle. His eyes grew wide and he handed it over, crossing his arms behind his back with a cheeky grin as I turned towards the camera. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, today Harry and I are going to bake some Halloween treats for you all.”

“Before we start,” Harry glanced over at me. “Can I show you a trick?” 

“It depends.” I said slowly. “What is it?” 

“Have a little faith, sweets.” He smirked, reaching for three of the golden brown eggs that were sat on the countertop. “I’ve never done this in front of you before.”

“Don’t you dare.” I gasped out as he started to toss the eggs in the air. I lifted my hands to my mouth, my eyes growing wide. “Harry! We don’t have any other eggs. If you break those-”

“Calm down.” He settled them back into his palm after a few tosses into the air, each egg landing gently beside the next. “I’m a pro juggler, aren’t I?”

“You like to stress me out sometimes, I swear it.” I let out the breath that I had been holding, shaking my head out as he let out a loud chuckle. “Grimmy, I apologize in advance to you and your editing team for what you’re going to have to cut out in this video.”

Harry rolled his eyes, setting the eggs down on the counter. 

“So, essentially,” I glanced over the ingredients on the counter as Harry placed his hand gently on my hip. “We’ve got some serious baking to do and then some fun baking. Anne, Harry’s beautiful Mother, is hosting a Halloween party with a bake-off for everyone that lives round the village. Harry and I both decided that we don't want to bring shame to the Styles’ family name with crappy baking, so we’re doing something a little unorthodox.”

“The what?” Harry squeezed my hip with a smirk, holding back a laugh as he looked over my confused expression. “What family?”

“Don’t be cheeky, I said what I said.” I mumbled, my cheeks growing warm. “Going to the annual Holmes Chapel bakeoff with a Styles, aren’t I?”

“S’alright, you’ll be a Styles soon enough.” He pressed a teasing kiss to my temple and I rolled my eyes, exasperated and exhausted by his neverending proposal joke.

I hadn’t told him yet, but there was a certain Styles that was really pushing for a proposal. 

I rolled my lips in, doing my best to hold in the secret that was bubbling up in my chest. 

I looked at Harry as he pushed a few ingredients around absentmindedly, holding back the words that were practically clawing at my throat. 

“Well you better hurry up then,” I cleared my throat. “Got boys lining up around the block. Rather have my chance with one of them if you’re not gonna give me my ring soon.”

“Oi!” He glanced at the camera and then back at me. “There better no’ be any boys linin’ up ‘round this block.” 

He reached over for the toy sword that he’d insisted on buying at Homegoods during our Halloween shopping excursion. 

“You’re going to fight them off with that?” I giggled when he waved it in the air. “With poor posture and a terrible swing?”

“You’re just asking for it today, aren’t you?” He dropped the sword, narrowing his eyes. “I see how it is, then. Get back to your baking spiel, I’ll handle you later.”

“Kinky.” I turned towards the camera with my lips pressed together before I let out a loud laugh, Harry joining in right after. “I can’t do this with you, we’ll never get anything done.”

“Yes we will.” He reassured me. “Let’s crack on with it then.”

He reached for an egg and my eyes went wide as he prematurely cracked it, spilling the contents into the bowl carelessly. 

“Harry!”

                                         *****************************

“My favorite thing about baking is eating what you’ve done after.” Harry confessed with a tiny hum, his hand dipping the measuring cup into the flour bag. “Always liked to take a cheeky bite out of whatever Mary was working on at the bakery.”

“You still do that.” I teased, bumping my hip into his. “I caught you sneaking some chocolate chips earlier. Don’t you think for a second that I won’t call your Mum in here.”

Harry snorted out a laugh and I glanced up at him, raising my brows. 

“You wouldn’t dare, you little tattle tale.” He mumbled, narrowing his eyes back at me. 

I opened my mouth, but he was quick to press his lips to mine so that I wouldn’t speak. 

I laughed into the kiss, pulling back when he reached up with a floured hand to cup my cheek purely out of habit. 

“None of that.” I pushed his wrist away. “This is serious business we’re tending to and I won’t be the one to disappoint Anne at the neighborhood bakeoff because you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” 

Harry let out a soft huff, turning back to his flour with a pout on his lips. 

“And now he’s pouting.” I turned towards the camera with a fond smile on my lips. “He’s cute when he’s grumpy.”

“Don’t make me rethink this.” He grumbled. “Might have to dump the whole bag of flour on your head if you keep teasing me.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me.” I cooed, sliding my arms around his waist, nudging his arm out of the way until I was settled against his side. “You know why?” 

“Not a clue.” He hummed out, glancing down at me. I could see the smirk teasing the corners of his mouth and it only made me smile wider. “Why?” 

“Because you love me.” I said softly, hoping that the camera didn’t pick it up. “And I love you.”

“S’true.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Love you loads.”

“Love you loads.” I repeated back, closing my eyes as he wrapped one of his arms around me tightly. 

“What happened to serious business?” He asked, resting his cheek on the top of my head. 

“Few more minutes of this, then we can get back to it.”

                                                ***********************

“Come here,” I held my hand out, grabbing his chin gently. “Think you could use a bit more around your top lip.” 

“What do you mean?” He asked, his brows furrowing. “My mustache is starting to grow.”

“S’not a mustache it’s a shadow.” I secretly dipped my free hand into the chocolate icing behind Harry��s arm. “But I can fix that.”

I reached up, swiping my finger across his top lip generously before I darted away from him. 

Harry was quick to catch me, both arms looping around my waist until my back collided with his front. Before I knew what was happening, I felt cold goop dripping over my forehead and down my neck. I gasped, shrieking ever so slightly as he lifted me off my feet. I reached out for his arms as a puff of white powder washed over me, Harry’s hand patting the top of my head. 

“S’that what you wanted then?” He playfully growled in my ear. “You should know better than to tease your elders, sweet pea.”

“Harry!” I whined when he spun me around, my hands swatting his arms. I was a little fearful that him holding me like this wasn’t the best idea for the churning in the pit of my stomach that was set off so easily these days. “Put me down you oaf.”

“Promise to be nice to me?” He asked. 

“Harry, you did way more to me than I did to you.” I turned my head towards his pouting. “It’s not fair.”

“Alright, if I put you down, you get one more shot at it.” He said. “Only one more though, and you can’t crack an egg on my head.”

“Deal.” I said. 

“No. egg.” He repeated and I chuckled, nodding my head. “Alright, go for it.”

He sat my feet on the ground and naturally, I reached for an egg. 

I pressed it against his shirt, squishing it the best that I could as he gasped out. 

He looked down at his shirt and then to me. 

“You said not on your head.” I clarified, dropping the shells to the counter. “You didn’t say anything about anywhere else.” 

“You little shit.” he scoffed playfully. “It’s on.”

                                                 ******************

Three hours later, we were still caked in our baking goods. 

Harry and I had fallen into a comfortable silence, working around each other to prep the ingredients for our cake that would be entered into the bake-off. We weren’t master bakers by any means, but we were doing pretty damn well. The top tier was a black cauldron with little eyeballs sitting on top. When people cut into the cake, the eyeballs would ooze out a slime green, mint flavored icing that would compliment the dark chocolate flavor of the cake. The second layer was a pumpkin cake with flesh colored icing that tasted of cream cheese and housed a few fake stitches held together with staples. Harry had taken great care to create a few ladyfingers to stick on top of the second layer, curved towards the cauldron as if Frankenstein himself were holding it up. The bottom layer was a simple apple spice cake with black icing and easy piped spider webs. All together, it was a pretty solid cake. 

“We’re so fucking talented.” Harry stood back, looking over every last detail of the cake. “I’m actually really proud of us for doing this. It looks so good, sweets, and I just...we did that.”

“I know.” I stood next to him, snaking my arms around his middle as I stared at our masterpiece with a fond smile. 

I bit the inside of my cheek as he brushed his fingers over my shoulder in a soothing motion, my eyes welling up at the proud tone his voice emitted.

“I think we should join bakeoff next year.” I said quickly, hoping to distract myself. 

“Yeah, let’s see if Jeffrey approves of that.” Harry snorted, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as he glanced down at me. “Let’s go have a nice shower before the party. We can do our fun baking together at home.”

“I love you.” I said softly. “That’s a great plan, Styles. Let’s go get this gunk off of us and get ready for the night.”

                               ***************************************

Harry and I floated around each other in the bathroom that he shared with Gemma at Anne’s house. I stood side by side with Gemma, working on my eyeshadow while she messed about with her hair. It was decided around April that we would all dress up as Disney characters to keep with a theme during the bakeoff. There was a lot of arguing between the Styles children until a decision by Anne, Michael, and myself was made in regards to the costumes. 

Anne would be dressed as Mary Poppins, but modern. I had helped her pick out the perfect outfit with a magic bag and cane just a few months prior and I was more than excited to see her all dressed up. Gemma and Michael were going to be Belle and Prince Adam post beast phase. Gemma was already dressed up, her hair in perfect curls and resting on her shoulders. 

It took me a lot of convincing to do on my part - which consisted of begging and a stellar blowjob- to get Harry to agree to my idea. My favorite princess growing up had always been Ariel. There was something about her rebellious streak that always appealed to me. I told Harry that I wouldn’t be dressing up as mermaid Ariel, but land Ariel instead. It felt a little more practical and wearable for me to wear a dress instead of a tail. 

“Sweetheart,” Harry popped his head into the bathroom, his fingers pressed against the doorway as I adjusted my bow. “Are you ready?” 

“Just about.” I nodded. “Can you tell me if my hair is okay?” 

He moved into the bathroom, brushing his fingers under the dyed red locks that I had insisted on getting a week or two before Halloween. It was a temporary dye that would come out in a few washes, but the color was starting to grow on me. 

“It looks perfect.” He said softly, reaching up to tweak my bow. “This red is starting to grow on me.”

“Me too.” I glanced up at him through the mirror with a small smile. “Well, let me see your costume then.” 

I turned around, pressing my hands into the small sink behind me as I looked over Harry’s body. I had seen him in a white, flowing shirt like this plenty of times before, but I had never seen wearing the exact outfit that Eric wore in the cartoon. I tried to keep my red lipped smile at bay, but it was damn near impossible to do when he looked so perfect. 

“I love it so much.” I said softly. “You look handsome, darling.”

“Thank you.” He mumbled softly, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck as blush tinted his cheeks. “But I pale in comparison to you, sweetheart. You look adorable.”

“Really?” I glanced down at my dress before looking back to Harry. “Do you think so?” 

“Better than the fucking cartoon.” He chuckled, reaching up to brush his finger over my cheek as he cupped my cheek. “I never wanted to fuck Ariel.”

“Harry!” I groaned, pushing his arm away as he giggled. “You ruined it.”

“I’ve done no such thing.” He teased, pulling me in by my hips. “I honestly think you look beautiful, my love. I don’t know anyone else that could pull this off better than you.”

“I think you can pull it off me later and then we can decide who does it better? I teased, lifting up on my toes to kiss his lips. “Let’s go, I can’t wait to win that contest.”

                                  *************************************

“I knew all of those years working at the shop weren’t for nothing.” Mary clapped her hands together, her eyes scanning the cake. “This is a work of art, love!”

“I can’t take all of the credit.” Harry wrapped his arm around me. “Had my princess to thank for most of it. She’s a wizard in the kitchen.”

“The two of you are quite the handsome pair.” Mary reached up to pinch Harry’s cheek and I laughed under my breath. “I’m glad you’ve found someone to deal with your terrible habits. Did he take a few bites out of your masterpiece while you were baking?” 

“He always does.” I chuckled, patting his tummy. “I always leave him bits behind so he can snack.”

“She treats me well.” Harry sighed playfully. “I wish you luck on the bake off, Mary.”

“You as well, darling.” 

As Mary walked away, someone filled her spot. 

“Harry!” Madeline smiled brightly, her eyes twinkling. “It’s so nice to have you back, babe.”

“Hello.” Harry gave her a tight smile, his arm pulling me closer to his side. “S’nice to see you again.”

“Is this your cake?” She looked down at our masterpiece and I tried to fight off my smile as Harry dug his fingers into my side instinctively. “It’s magnificent, babe!”

“It’s our cake, yes.” I cleared my throat as Madeline glared at me, a look of disgust washing over her face. “Nice to meet you, I’m Harry’s-”

“So, H,” She cut me off, looking back at my boyfriend. “Everyone is going for drinks in the pub after. I would love it if you could stop by.”

“Sorry, but I have plans.” Harry said. “My girl and I are going back to our home in London for a party with our friends.”

“Oh.” Madeline’s face fell. “You’re not staying in Holmes for a few more weeks?” 

“No.” He said. “We’ll be back at the end of November.”

“Interesting.” Madeline said. “Well, we’ll just have to catch up then.”

“We’ll see.” I said. “We’re quite busy.”

Madeline walked away, her jet black hair flipping over her shoulder. 

I looked up at Harry with a sympathetic smile. 

“You okay?” I asked, pressing my hand to his tummy. 

“I’m fine.” He grumbled. “I just wish people would stop treating you like a fucking doormat. I can’t stand when they talk down to you, as if you’re less than them. That girl hasn’t even left her fucking hometown and you’re a succesful-”

“Hey, look at me,” I moved in front of him, grabbing his face between my palms. “I want you to understand that I don’t give a flying fuck about Madeline or any other person that talks to me like that. They’re just jealous of what I have and what I’ve built, Harry. If I sat around worrying about them all day long I would always be a wreck and I refuse to give them the satisfaction.”

“But I love you.” He whispered. “I love you and I want to protect you, even if I know you don’t need me to.”

“I don’t need you to, you’re right.” I smiled. “But I want you to know that I already feel safe and supported around you. I don’t need a huge scene to feel protected.”

“I love you.” He lowered his head, pressing his lips to my own.

“And I love you,” I giggled. “My sweet prince.”

                                            ****************************

Somewhere in between watching Harry’s youngest cousin bobbing for apples and a quick make out session in the toilets, or cake was destroyed. It wasn’t hard to pin down the culprit after we saw Madeline smirking in the corner. She made sure that her eyes landed on mine exactly, smirking like the cat who ate the fucking canary. I glanced between Harry’s stony expression and the smashed cake that lay on the floor of the rec center, my chest burning with anger and frustration. Any other time, I would have ignored the feeling and powered through. 

But something in me had changed and I felt the need to protect Harry for once. 

He was so proud of our creation and Madeline destroyed in seconds out of spite. 

My prince was standing in a room full of family and friends with a quivering lip and watery eyes and I was beyond livid. I tried for a few moments to soothe the burning frustration in my chest, but I couldn’t do it. I knew the kind of girl Madeline was and I knew that she wouldn’t ever stop harassing Harry as long as she thought she had a chance with him. I needed to show her that she didn’t have a chance with him anymore.  It didn’t take me long to find myself in front of her with red cheeks and a heavy scowl on my lips. 

“I get that you’re still living in some high-school state of mind where you’re the ‘it girl’ and everyone else is just a pawn in the sick game you’re playing.” I started, sending Madeline into a state of shock, her eyes growing wide. “But this isn’t highschool and I’m not someone you can bully to get what you want. I’m a grown woman with a great career and a beautiful life. I don’t care if your feelings are hurt because you went on one date with my boyfriend in year seven.”

“I-” She stuttered out, but I interrupted her. 

“Grow the fuck up and move on with your life or you’ll find that one day, all of your friends and family are gone because you were too obsessed with someone who never wanted you back in the first place! I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but you need to lay off. I don’t care what you do or say to me, but you will not continue to hurt Harry’s feelings past today, is that understood?” 

She nodded meekly, her shoulders slumping slightly as I let out an angry huff. 

When I turned around, Harry was right there behind me. 

“That was a really shitty thing to do, Madeline.” He said softly. “I would appreciate it if you could leave us alone in the future, yeah?”

Harry and I left the rec center immediately after. 

The ride back to Anne’s house was so quiet that I could hear Harry’s harsh and uneven breathing from the passenger seat. I knew that he was beyond angry when we left the party, but it seemed to get worse with every passing second. It was so bad, in fact, that Harry hadn’t even put his hand on my thigh like he normally did when he was driving. I hated the absence of his hand, but my brain was too busy working around in circles trying to keep up with my current emotions. I gently rested my palm near my belly, worrying my bottom lip as I looked out of the car window. 

I was feeling so many things at once and eeing Harry so worked up had an effect on me that it shouldn’t have. I kept my thighs tightly pressed together as he accelerated down the winding road towards his Mum’s house. I could feel my walls growing slick as they fluttered, fueling that aching feeling in my belly that was spreading warmth across my body. I didn’t want to be turned on by his frustration and anger, but I couldn’t really help it. I watched him from the side of my eye, trying to soothe the feelings in my body and bring myself back down.

Unfortunately for me, it didn’t work. 

When Harry pulled into Anne’s driveway, he slammed the driver side door.��

I knew he wasn’t angry with me and I didn’t feel like I was in any sort of danger, but I still jumped a little. It should have scared me to see him do that, but if anything, it threw gas onto an already raging flame. I watched him strut around the front of the car in his costume, his lips pressed together and his jaw clenched. He was still a gentleman, holding the door open for me and offering a hand to help me out. I received a pert kiss to my temple as he slipped his fingers through mine, guiding me up the walkway to the front steps of the house. 

“Harry,” I said his name quietly as he shut the front door behind us. “Baby?”

“M’really not in the mood to talk about it.” He grumbled, brushing past me. “I’ll be in m’room.”

I let out a sigh, watching him retreat with a bruised ego and a soft pout. 

I kicked my brown flats off next to Harry’s vans before I walked up the steps towards the room we had been sharing for the last week. Inhaling deeply, I pressed the door open as he started to strip out of his costume. I shut it quietly behind me, leaning against the white wood as I watched him like a hawk waiting out its prey. 

“I told you I’m not in the mood to talk, love.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “Don’t want to say things I might regret.”

“I’m not in the mood to talk either.” I said softly, crossing my arms over my chest. “I am, however, in the mood to fuck.”

His head snapped around as he held his brown trousers in his pants, his eyes burning. 

“S’that what you’re up here for?” He asked, letting out a bitter laugh. “Want me to fuck you?” 

“You’re hot when you’re angry.” I shrugged, pushing off the door. “I’d like to put some of that aggression to good use.”

“M’not mad at you.” He said softly. “Mad at her.”

“Just...take it out on me.” I said. “I know you’re upset and I know that this will make you better, so fuck me like you hate me.”

“I won’t do that.” He swallowed around a lump in his throat. “But I will punish you for being an absolute brat in that kitchen earlier. I told you that you would get yours, didn’t I?”

“You did.” I tried to hide my smile when he tossed his pants to the side, his hardening cock on display. “No pants under those trousers? How naughty of you.”

“I want you on the bed.” He moved closer to me, brushing his thumb over my cheek. “Want you perched on the end with your ass in the air so that I can take you from behind.”

“Costume on or off?” I asked, raising a brow as Harry looked over my face. I shivered when he pulled a tendril of red hair from my shoulders, twirling it around his finger. 

“On.” 

With a shaky exhale, I nodded. 

Seconds later, I found myself stripping out of my panties and falling onto the bed with myy hands pressed into the center of the mattress and my feet dangling off the edge. I gripped onto the duvet we’d been curled under earlier that day, closing my eyes in anticipation. I waited for the sting of Harry’s palm against my flesh or the teasing tone of his voice. I waited and waited, but it never came. I heard him fiddling around behind me, shuffling through items and grumbling under his breath, but I didn’t feel his presence. I let out an impatient whine, biting my lower lip. 

“Didn’t say you could make noise, did I?” He said sternly. “Stay quiet for me, princess.”

I rolled my lips in, trying to keep in the whine that was creeping up my throat at bay. 

Seconds later, I felt the skirt of my dress being pushed over my ass. The hem rested on my lower back as the cool air of Harry’s bedroom washed over my skin. I heard him inhale sharply just seconds before I felt his thumb brushing over the lips of my cunt. I tried not to make any noise, taking a deep breath as he circled his thumb three times over my clit. 

Sweet relief only lasted a few moments before Harry’s thumb was gone from my clit. I gasped out when his hands started to knead at my ass, his thumbs spreading me apart.  

“You pissed me off earlier when you cracked that egg on my shirt.” He tutted. “If I remember specifically, princess, I told you no eggs.”

“M’sorry.” I whimpered when he dug his nails into the flesh. I knew he wouldn’t do anything to seriously hurt me, but I liked the sting. “M’sorry I didn’t listen.”

“You’re just being greedy.” He hummed out. “Gonna say whatever it takes to get my cock in you, huh? I’ve seen you do it before, my love.”

“Harry.” I whimpered his name as he pulled his right hand away. “Please.”

Seconds later, the crack of his palm against my ass had me letting out a small moan. 

I jolted forward on the bed ever so slightly, but Harry’s hand on my hip stopped me from falling.

“You were acting so bossy, too.” He sighed. “Putting on a show for Nick and the camera as if you’re the one who’s in charge here. We both know that isn’t true, don’t we? We both know that you like it when I take control, when I boss you around. Isn’t that right?” 

“It is.” I nodded before I tucked my head between my biceps, slightly arching my back “Fuck, I love it when you’re in control, H.”

“S’my job to take care of you.” His voice lost it’s edge, a softness to it. “Don’t need you to take care of me, princess. M’your prince charming, aren’t I? It’s my job to stand up for you and defend your honor.”

I lifted my head up, glancing over my shoulder with parted lips. 

The words died on my tongue when I felt Harry’s tip against my entrance, the rest of his cock following lead as he sunk into my warm walls. We both let out breathy moans of relief and the burning ache that had taken over my tummy earlier was now being soothed by. Harry’s hips settled against the flesh of my ass as his fingers flexed into my hips, holding me tight against him as I adjusted to his size. I closed my eyes when he finally pushed me off of his cock before pulling me back against him. I hated not being able to see his face, but this position felt so amazing that I couldn’t help but give into it. 

“Harry,” I gasped out as he repeated his previous move a few more times. “I need you to really give it to me.”

Another smack landed to my ass as Harry’s cock simultaneously brushed against that soft spot inside of me that only he could reach. I whimpered, biting my lower lip as he pushed my hips off of himself again, pulling me back a little harder as his hips moved forward to meet me. 

“S’not your turn to call the shots.” He gritted out, his fingers smoothing over my ass before it fell to my other hip. “If I wanna fuck you slow, I’ll fuck you slow.” 

He really made a point, pulling me off of his cock until the tip was barely nestled inside. 

He waited a few moments before he pulled me back onto him. 

“If I want to fuck you fast, I will.” He moved his own hips this time, delivering three fast and sharp thrusts into me. “If I want to pull your hair, I will.” 

I felt my mouth practically watering when he reached up, gathering the strands of my hair in one, large ponytail. I gasped when he pulled, guiding my head up and my body to a sitting position. I dropped my head back against his shoulder, my back pressed into his front from ass to shoulders. I turned my head ever so slightly as he grunted. 

“Do all princesses act like this?” He gritted out, guiding his hand to the front of my belly as he started to move his hips, thrusting into me just how I needed it. “Acting like brats until their prince comes along to teach them a lesson?” 

I slipped my hand over the palm that was pressed to my tummy, gripping his wrist to take some of the pressure off. I felt his palm ease up on the sensitive area as if he could tell exactly what I was trying to say. I was just a little nervous about things, especially since I hadn’t told him yet. 

 “I need to cum.” I cried out.

“No.” He flexed his hips, pushing deep inside of me as I tried to guide his hand to my clit. “I’m not done with you.”

“Harry-” 

“Shh, princess.” He pressed his lips to my neck. “I’m going to fucking wreck you.”

And he truly did. 

He alternated between fucking me on all fours and holding me up with his palm as he drove into me from behind. I didn’t get much clit stimulation until the end of our tryst, but it still felt phenomenal anyways. The feeling of Harry plunging in and out of me with such vigor was enough to get me close to the edge of my release. He went on with his pattern of alternating positions until I was begging him, tears in my eyes and desperation in my tone. 

“Please let me cum, H.” I cried out, turning my nose towards his jawline as he pushed his palm into my lower tummy. “Let me cum, let me cum.”

“Shh, princess.” He cooed softly, pulling out of me completely. “S’alright, I’m gonna let you cum.”

“No, no, no.” I whimpered when he pulled his body away from mine, his hands dropping from my hips. “Harry, what are you doing?” 

“I want you out of this fucking dress.” He growled out, his hands tugging at the zipper on the back until the fabric fell loosely around my shoulders. “Need to feel you.”

I nodded, helping him push it all off of me before I fell forward on the bed. 

Harry patted my thigh, guiding my hips until I was on my back with my heads propped up against the pillows. I gratefully accepted the bruising kiss he offered, his lips molding against mine as he guided his cock back into my aching walls. I let out a soft moan as he bottomed out, wrapping my legs around his hips as he slipped his hands under my body. 

“Love you.” He gasped out, flexing his hips in sloppy thrusts as he panted into my mouth. “I love you so much. I love that you stood up for me and I just...fuck, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I whined out, guiding a hand up to the back of his head until my fingers were tangled in damp locks. “Make me cum.” 

“M’close too.” He warned. “Together?” 

“Yeah.” 

I nodded before tucking my face into the crook of his shoulder, my lips pressing into the bare skin there as he tucked his hand between our bodies. I knew Harry’s body just as well as I knew my own at this point. I knew it well enough to know that four or five more thrusts would bring him to his release. I softly bit into his shoulder as he circled my clit, waiting for me to clench around him as a signal that I was ready. It didn’t take long, his fingers slipping against the bundle of nerves fast enough that I was clenching around him in less than a few minutes. 

“I’m gonna move.” He whispered. “You ready?” 

“Please,” I mewled out, kissing over his shoulder as he started to thrust his hips. “Just like that, Harry.” 

“I love you.” His breath tickled the baby hairs along my temple as he delivered a few sharp thrusts. “Love you so fucking much.” 

When our highs hit, his body stilled against mine. 

I let out a high pitched whine, trying my best not to bite down on his shoulder too hard. I felt him cum, his cock twitching before he let go of his release. His hips flexed into mine a few more times, a primal movement that ensured every drop of his cum was pushed as far in as it could go, before he fell lax against my body. I let out a soft chuckle, gently scratching at his scalp as we both tried to catch our breath. His lips pressed gently over my forehead and down the bridge of my nose until they met mine in a soft and sweet kiss. 

“Thank you for sticking up for me.” He whispered. “Thanks for sticking up for us.”

“She would have never stopped hounding you.” I whispered. “She needed to be confronted in front of other people to realize exactly how horrible she’s been.”

“I was really upset about our cake.” He pressed one elbow into the mattress, brushing his fingers through the strands of hair around my face. “We worked so hard on it and she just...destroyed it. I felt like that was a big milestone for us, creating something together.”

“I know.” I gave him a sympathetic smile as his thumb caressed the skin of my cheek. “What if I told you that we’ve created something so much better than a cake together?”

“What could be better than that cake?” He asked, his brows pulling together. I watched his eyes dart around, the gears turning in his brain. “I don’t know, love. What have we done?” 

I smiled, rolling my lips in as my eyes started to tear up. 

“Are you sure you can’t think of anything better than cake?” I asked, my voice a little hoarse from a combination of moaning and the emotion creeping up in my throat. “Like, baby, you can’t imagine anything better than-”

“You never call me baby.” He searched my face, his expression changing emotion every few seconds. “Are you saying-”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I think that’s a little better than a cake, right?” 

“Holy fuck.” He let out a breathless chuckle. “Yeah, it’s much better than a bloody cake.”

He pressed a series of playful kisses over my face, both of dissolving into a fit of giggles.

In that moment, I knew that this would always be the one thing no one could ever ruin for us. 

#hunflowershalloweenchallenge #I hope that this is good! #happy spooky season y'all #spooky season doesn't end until thanksgiving #fight me #my writing #prince charming

[nicco-needs-love]

Oh boy. I did it. I wrote this damn thing. It's kinda long (5k) so I'm splitting it into three parts because that's how I wrote this fic. The full thing will be up on ao3 tomorrow because it's 6am :,) my ao3 is HoliGAY if you wanna see the whole thing because I'm gonna edit it and make it look pretty on there! :,,)))

TW//quick desc of gore, and romanticizing of marriage! The gore isn't in this chapter so no worries! I would say this chapter would be rated G!

This is only chapter one! I'm gonna post the other's tomorrow! Sorry for any errors! I didn't read it over!

(1/3) White Proposal

"Is it normal? Y'know… To fall in love with one of our Eves?"

"Do you really think that's a good question to ask me?! Hell, I've fallen in love with every damn one of them!"

Ildio shrugs, realizing that asking Hyde was not the smartest idea.

"Well? There's a reason you asked that. Catching feelings for your Eve?"

"Yeah, I wanna propose."

Hyde inhales his water, coughing everywhere; caught very off guard at Ildio's sentence. 

"Huh?!"

"It isn't that strange. Mother married one of her old eves. Double Doubt and his eve are engaged. You and yours?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But it's normal for us to fall for our eves! You, however, haven't done that once!"

"Well… Nicco's different."

Ildio looks away, thinking about the long haired guy he'd hopelessly fallen for. Ildio isn't sure about even asking Niccolò to marry him. They're dating, been dating for a few years. It's just there has never been a good instance of Servamps marrying their Eves. It's just a sad thing to think about. Servamps are immortal, they'll never die. Their Eves aren't. Ildio was never close to any of his previous Eves, he was one of the very few Servamps who has never fallen in love. Of course, that was until he met Niccolò. It was a curse until Ildio eventually gave up fighting off those butterflies he'd get when Nicco would smile. 

"Uh-huh… Okay. Do you actually wanna do it? Propose I mean. Think about it, would it work?  Sometimes I wanna propose to Licht but there's so many reasons I can't. Our schedules, his job, he's popular with "everyone" so I can't imagine the problems he would get if people found out he was married. Hell,I'm not sure Licht would even say yes."

"I'm just thinking about it, if I was gonna do it, it wouldn't be extravagant, we wouldn't even have to wear rings."

"Then what's the point? Could be the romanticism in me but, that's such a beautiful thing about marriage. Wearing rings? It's so romantic, the glimmer of each other's face reflecting on their wedding rings! Being able to see your love in a metal band on someone's finger is just a beautiful thing! I've been married a few times and wedding days are some of the best days of my life."

Ildio sighs, definitely regretting his decision of talking to Hyde about this. He definitely should have talked to Kuro instead, none of the theatrics or excessive romantic details. Honestly any of his siblings would have been better to talk to about this; except for Hugh. Hugh has always been against Servamps falling in love. Especially ever since the incident with Hyde many centuries ago. Then Jeje's past with the Alicen family. There have been many, many times Servamps have fallen in love. Every time they had talked about those things to Hugh, there would be a very long conversation about the problems with a romance like that. That's one of the reasons that Ildio has always been weary of the idea of love. In fact, he thought he would never fall for anyone. All his previous Eves were asses who would break Ildio's rules almost immediately. Yet again, Niccolò changed his mind on that.

"I'm gonna go, Law. I'm gonna think more about it."

"Mkay! Invite me to the wedding! I wanna see it!"

Ildio laughs aloud once, closing the door behind him. 

The thing is, Ildio already bought a ring for the proposal. It was an impulse buy, he was shopping for snacks and a bright ring caught his eye in a window. The ring is one of a kind, a gorgeous onyx black band, with a shining silver inlay. Apparently there was a second ring similar to that one, however it sold a while ago. Ildio knew immediately the ring would fit Nicco. Don't ask how he would know that, many hours watching Niccolò's hands move would certainly not be Ildio's answer. The ring, inside a white velvet box, feels heavy inside his pocket. He could propose, just give Nicco the ring and walk away. Although he knows there's no way he could do that. After all, the worst thing Niccolò could say is no, right?

"He's been gone for hours… Not so far that the distance effect would take in, but far enough that I can't find him."

Niccolò sighs, sinking down against the vinyl chair he's sitting in. A few hours ago, Ildio told him to meet him at this diner. Nicco didn't expect to be waiting for hours. It's not like he has anything to do today anyway. Besides the piles of phone calls he has to make with other bosses of families because there have been many issues in the workplace. Nicco puts his head down on the table, considering giving Ildio a call. Not because he's impatient, but starting to get worried.

"Hey, Nicco."

Niccolò opens his eyes and looks up, seeing Ildio. Nicco isn't sure when he took a nap, but he certainly did. Ildio looks nervous? Niccolò isn't sure why he would be, but he sits up, tapping the spot next to him on the seat for Ildio to sit down. 

"Hey… Sorry I fell asleep, I meant to call but, I fell asleep…"

Ildio doesn't say anything, just nods. It isn't rare for Ildio to not say anything. However, it is rare for Ildio to look this nervous. Or nervous at all. Nicco notices Ildio has his hand inside his jacket pocket, it looks like he's fidgeting with something? Or, it could just be Niccolò projecting. You see, something has been weighing on his mind for months; marriage. Niccolò knows that's the very last thing he should be thinking about. First of all, he's a mafia boss with many people who rely and count on him, he still has to prove he can be just as good as his father one day. Secondly, he would be married to a vampire, a Servamp. If Niccolò proposed, would Ildio even have a choice to say no? If that's the case, Nicco would never want to propose. Still, he bought a ring, specifically for Ildio. He was just window shopping for rings when he saw it. The ring is a shining silver that shines beautifully in the sun. Inside the ring is a deep black inlay, the ring is gorgeous. He sighed a sigh of relief looking closely at the ring, he knew it would fit Ildio perfectly.  Niccolò being the hopeless romantic he is, he got an engraving into the ring's inlay. 'Mio dio'. Translating to 'My God' in italian. It's a very cheesy thing that Niccolò thinks about a lot, he thinks of Ildio as his God. 

Nicco can't help but idly roll the black velvet box between his fingers. He bought the ring about two weeks ago, he's been thinking about the moment over and over. The imaginary proposal in his head. Niccolò honestly is far too shy to do something so forward. It's completely different to hold hands or soft kisses, this is marriage. 

"S-so uh...Why were you out for so long, Il? I was getting worried…"

"Just thinkin' about stuff."

Silence. Niccolò shifts in his seat uncomfortably, not too sure what to say. Ildio is thinking the exact same, he isn't sure which way to go about this.

"So uh-"

They both start talking at the same time. Meeting each other's eyes, Niccolò looks down first, a blush dusting his face. Ildio obviously takes notice of this, realizing that Nicco is more nervous than usual; which is hard to be. 

Ildio stands up, grabbing Nicco's hand and taking him out of the diner. In the corner of his eye, he can see many of the Carpe Diem members giving him a look of suspicion. 

Outside the diner, around seven feet away from the entrance, Ildio can't stop fiddling with the box in his pocket. Nicco isn't touching the box in his pocket, however, it feels like one-hundred tons weighing in on him.

Ildio inhales, getting a grip on the wedding ring. He's doing it; he's going to ask Niccolò to marry him.

Looking at Ildio, Nicco can see a look of determination? Seeing that makes Nicco want to propose. He reaches within his coat pocket, grabbing the white box.

"Niccolò."

Nicco stops in his tracks, the severe tone in Ildio's voice making him stop. Has he done something wrong? Does Ildio suddenly just want to turn their relationship into business only? Does he want to leave the business and have nothing to do with Nicco anymore? His hands turn clammy, swallowing down a lump of anxiety. 

"Y-yes?"

"I uh… Listen, augh- dammit."

Ildio's stuttering just makes Niccolò feel much more nervous. Thousands of different things race through Nicco's head. Thousands of negative things. He tries to brace himself for whatever words Ildio is going to say. Unfortunately, Nicco knows that if Ildio says anything negative, it will most likely break him.

"...I wanna marry you."

Ildio pulls out the white velvet box, opening it up to show the ring to Nicco. Part of him doesn't want to see Niccolò's reaction. He doesn't want him to say yes because Ildio doesn't want to get any closer to this anomaly. He also doesn't want Nicco to say no, because honestly… Ildio wants to marry Nicco. If Ildio's being completely honest with himself, he's hopelessly in love with the man before him.

Nicco gasps, audibly gasps, a… a proposal? He can't believe his eyes. The ring is absolutely stunning, it looks uncannily similar to the ring that Nicco bought for Ildio. He looks up to meet Ildio's eyes from the ring; it feels like hundreds of butterflies fly from his heart. Ildio's eyes are warm, soft. The breath leaves Nicco in a rush. Niccolò is sure Ildio is a literal god, not a vampire. 

"I- the funny thing is…uh…"

Niccolò pulls the open black velvet box from his coat, showing the ring to Ildio. Nicco turns his head away from Ildio, not wanting to see his expression.

Ildio blinks a few times, looking at the gorgeous ring in Nicco's hands. He can tell immediately that it's the opposite version of the ring he purchased a few nights ago. Looking closer, Ildio can see some italian engraved into the ring. Since Niccolò knows italian, Ildio was able to know it immediately when they made their contract. "Mio Dio". It's a term that Nicco would use very affectionately towards Ildio. A term that Ildio doesn't agree with, but hearing those words from Nicco is, ironically, heavenly. 

"Jesus Nicco… This is beautiful. So, I'm guessing it's a yes?"

Niccolò laughs, nodding. He pulls the ring out of it's black box, gently sliding it onto Ildio's finger. Ildio mimics the action, both of them wearing the ring the other chose.

Ildio grabs Niccolò's tie, tugging him into a gentle, loving kiss.

#servamp #gluttony pair #servamp niccolo #niccolo carpediem #ilnico #servamp ildio #fanfiction #chapter 1 #wedding theme #fluff #ff fluff #in which i write #not me projecting again #that's a tag now #not beta read #shipping #i love this ship sm #it needs more love

[ruzek-halstead]

sparks fly

written for @fromiftowhen​ to celebrate chicago pd secret santa 💛

pairing: jay halstead x hailey upton

prompt: fake dating, i don't care how or why... just make them fake date for whatever reason. obviously, it should turn into real dating. 

masterlist 

special shoutout to @haileyyanneupton​ for coming up with the fic idea, collaborating and editing (and also talking me down when i was hella stressed i wasn't going to finish this on time). i appreciate you more than you know!! 💛

i hope i did this prompt and fic justice. i was very intimidated when i first got this because you are such a good writer!!! so i hope this is okay, please enjoy!!

💛

Hailey hadn't gone to many weddings in her life. It wasn't entirely surprising, given her childhood. Her mother would have to furiously cover up her bruises, as would her brothers. Then there was the chance of her father exhibiting questionable behaviour in public after he'd hit the open bar, and they couldn't have that. So, instead, the Upton family always marked the 'politely decline' option and sent the RSVP with a cheque instead. But now that Hailey was an adult and old enough to have friends who were getting married, weddings were becoming the new normal. The months of May to September are the classic wedding months, and Hailey knew that better than ever. She had attended three weddings within the past few months and truth be told, she was exhausted of attending them solo. She thought about finding a date, but it honestly seemed more trouble than it was worth. However, this time, things were slightly different. Her childhood friend, Raquel Sousa, was getting married this weekend. Hailey and Raquel had grown up on the same street, gone to all the same schools, and even attended the academy together. When they were assigned to different precincts, they hastily grew apart, and when Hailey went undercover, they weren't able to contact each other for months on end. They tried to keep in touch with random little messages every once in a while to alert the other that they were thinking about them, but it wasn't the same. But when Hailey received Raquel's wedding invitation in her mail a few months back, her blue eyes teared up instantly in blinding happiness. She was incredibly happy for her friend; so much so, that she took out her phone to message her, and hadn't stopped since. It was how she knew Raquel was incredibly stressed about planning, especially about the seating arrangements. "You need to bring a plus one!" Raquel had said to her two weeks earlier when they met up for coffee. It had been a long day and Hailey was utterly exhausted, but coffee with one of her oldest friends seemed to help. Hailey took a sip of her coffee, narrowing her blue eyes. "Uh — why is that?" "Because my tables aren't even! Specifically your table isn't even, and it would be if you brought a plus one!" Hailey was still confused. "Your argument seems flawed. Why don't you just add someone to the table?" "Because then it would just unbalance another table!" Raquel explained with a dramatic huff. "And I don't want you sitting alone at the table, Hails. There aren't going to be a lot of people you know there, and I'm going to be a little busy." "I won't be alone. I have the rest of the table," Hailey replied, enjoying the way her friend's eye twitched in frustration. Raquel took a bite out of her croissant. "What about that guy you're seeing?" "What guy?" Hailey snorted. "Do you mean the guy I just arrested a few hours ago? Because that's about the only action I'm getting lately." Raquel rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of an amused smile. "No! The one that's all over your instagram. He's cute! Why don't you bring him?" It took Hailey a moment, but she finally figured out who she was talking about. "Oh — oh, Jay? No, I'm not seeing him. He's just my parter." "Well, whoever he is, you should bring him. Or someone, I don't care who, just do me this one favour and bring someone." Hailey stared at her for a moment, before breaking into a small grin. "Fine. I'll bring a plus one." "Yes!" Raquel cheered excitedly. "Just let me know their name by this weekend so I can include it in my display!" She took another bite from her croissant, before raising her devious eyes back up to Hailey's face. "Tell me more about this Jay though..." 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛 The next day following her coffee date, she was receiving hourly messages from Raquel to make sure she actually found a date. Honestly, her friend's confidence in her dating skills astounded her. She spent the day with Jay, but couldn't bring herself to ask him; she just found it so embarrassing. So, instead, she found discreet opportunities within the day to ask her fellow Intelligence members. Kim apologized but said she had already devoted the entire day to her niece and she couldn't back out, not that Hailey would let her anyway. And Vanessa had a date, and no matter how much she loved Hailey, this was a very special date that she couldn't miss. Kevin looked frustrated when he informed her it was his little sister's birthday and he couldn't miss it, but assured her in any other circumstance, he would absolutely love to be her date. Hailey's second last option was Adam and unfortunately for her, he was as subtle as a car alarm. "You want me to be your date to a wedding?" He echoed her question, in a loud voice that travelled from the break room into the bullpen. Hailey noticed from the corner of her eye as Jay's head peeked up from where he was sitting at his desk, working on paperwork; of course his desk was closest to the break room. Hailey instantly slapped Adam's bicep. "Shh!" She admonished, but didn't really have an excuse to share with him when he glared at her in confusion. "Yes, I do. If you're available. Please tell me you're available." "I'm always available for you, Hailey," he replied with flirtatious lilt, but Hailey could see in his eyes it was all just fun and games. They had their fun little run together, but it was clear to both of them, more than ever, that they were better off as friends. Flirty friends, maybe, but nothing more. For a moment, Hailey was hopeful her begging journey could end here; but then Adam frowned. "But I can't," he replied, "I'm helping my sister move this weekend. She'll kill me if I try to bail." Hailey's shoulders sagged and she took a long, deep sip from her coffee mug. "Oh," she responded sadly, "That's okay. Thank you anyway." "Sorry, Hails," he nudged the top of her head, as he waited for her to catch up. "If it wasn't for that, I totally would. Any place with an open-bar and a dance floor, you know I'm there." At this point, they were passing Jay's desk and Hailey was positive he could hear their entire conversation, but she couldn't be bothered anymore. Hailey took a seat in her chair, while Adam took his seat behind her. Before devoting his time to his paperwork, he leaned back and whispered to Hailey, "You ask Halstead already?" "No," Hailey hissed back. "You should," he replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Hailey whipped her head around, completely nailing Adam in the face with her blonde locks; he disgustingly removed her curls from his mouth. "Stop talking about this before I stab you in the carotid with my pen!" Adam's eyes flashed dangerously. "You really know the way to a man's heart, Upton." Hailey rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but smirk at his words. As she turned back around in her seat, she noticed Jay peering at her from behind his computer screen. Hailey avoided his captivating eyes.   💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛 Hailey was walking to her SUV in the district parking lot, debating whether she should turn around and beg Jay to accompany her to the wedding, when she was stopped by Jay himself. "Hey," he greeted her gruffly. He was wearing his puffer jacket over his dark blue Henley (one of Hailey's favourite shirts on him) and his eyes were darting around her face, almost as if he was nervous about something. "Sorry, I just have to ask you something." Hailey looked on expectantly. "Yeah, sure. What is it?" Jay's eyes danced around her, before finally settling on her blue ones. "Were you going to ask me?" He blurted. "What?" "To the wedding," he added, meeting her eyes assertively. "You asked everyone else to be your date, but you didn't ask me. I just want to know why." Hailey's brain was starting to short-circuit. "Uh — well, I thought about it. I definitely thought about it, but I wasn't sure if it was your thing." "We face bullets everyday, Hailey," he smirked. "It's just a date to a wedding. If you want me to go, I'll go." He was clearly leaving her an opening, and Hailey wasn't stupid. He obviously wanted her to say it out loud; say that she wanted him to go. "I want you to go," she said definitively, meeting his eyes. It wasn't often they did things outside of work, except go get a drink, so this was new territory for both of them. But they've been partners for years, and if there was anyone Hailey trusted to accompany her to such an event, it was Jay. An excited smile broke out over Jay's features. "Great! Text me all the details. I'm excited." "Yeah," Hailey answered with a soft smile, "Me too." Jay nodded his head, stuffing his hands into his front pockets. "Okay, well that's all I really wanted to say," he replied, his excited smile fading into a sheepish grin. "I'll see you tomorrow then. Drive safe, Hailey." Hailey could feel her insides melting and it was merely over the fact that he said 'drive safe'. She wanted to hit herself, but that would just make her look crazy. "Yeah, you too. Night Jay." She watched him walk away, completely aware of the butterflies trying to escape under her ribcage. God, he was going to be the death of her. 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛  Raquel was delighted when Hailey informed her she was bringing a date. She was even more ecstatic when she found out it was Jay; Hailey ignored the "I told you so!" Instead, she busied herself with finding the perfect dress for the occasion. She wasn't one for fancy dresses or fancy events (usually she had her blues to wear to fancy events), so choosing a dress proved to be challenging. She could only assume that Jay was going to blow them all away with his suit, because he was already naturally breathtaking. That man in a suit? Lord help them all. Hailey ended up choosing a burgundy dress she hadn't worn in ages. It was tucked in the back of her closet, but when she pulled it out, she knew it was perfect. It was a floor length gown, with cutouts above the hips and a long slit up the side, and if she was being completely honest, she knew it would look amazing on her. Plus, she had to compete with Jay somehow. Hailey already looked fancy enough with her dress. And she wasn't one for hair and makeup, so she kept her curls natural and applied a decent  layer of mascara. She was attempting to distract herself from the unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach; it was almost time for Jay to meet at her house, and she was unbelievably nervous. It seemed to work because as she was pulling on one of her block heels, the doorbell rang. Swearing, Hailey hobbled to the front door, attempting to not step on her dress. She hastily opened the door and headed straight for the stairs so she could sit and put on her other heel. "Hey!" She yelled out when her back was to him. "Shit, sorry," she mumbled as she stepped on her dress and nearly fell up the stairs. "I just need to put on my shoe and I'll be ready, I promise!" When she didn't hear an immediate reply for him, she glanced up. Jay had one foot through the threshold of the door, but his gaze was solely focused on her. His jaw was slightly open, and his green eyes were wider than usual. He seemed as if he was staring off into space, but he was staring at her.   In any other circumstance, Hailey would have averted her gaze nervously. However, once she caught sight of how he looked in his black suit, she couldn't look anywhere else. He looked captivating in every way possible; she could see his white dress shirt peeking out from under the lapels of his jacket, and her gaze travelled down his body all the way down to his dress shoes. God, he looked gorgeous. "Hailey," her name dropped from his lips in a ghost of a breath; Jay didn't realize he had even said it until her eyes snapped up to meet his. "You look amazing." She knew she was blushing before she could even feel the heat in her cheeks. So, she looked back down at her hands where they were fastening the claps on her heel. "Thanks," she mumbled. "You look great too. You clean up nice." "Thanks!" When she looked up, he was smiling proudly. "You ready to go?" Hailey nodded her head, standing back up and grabbing her clutch. "I am ready!" She followed him through the door and locked it. Turning back to face him, she stopped and said fondly, "By the way, thank you for doing this. I don't know if I've thanked you already, but I really appreciate this." The bright smile that formed on Jay's lips brought butterflies into her stomach. "Of course, Hailey. The thought of an open bar is nice, but just getting to look at you in that dress all night is reward enough." Out of all the things she was expecting him to say, that was definitely not one of them. She was so thrown off her game, that she managed to trip over her own feet. He easily grabbed her arm because he was smooth as hell, and Hailey truly hated he was using that to his advantage and to her demise. "You alright?" Hailey pulled away from him to make her way to the passenger side of his truck before he did something ridiculous like open her door. “Yeah, of course,” she brushed off his concern. “It’s been a while since I wore heels.” “Well, you look great in them.” Hailey huffed, observing him as he started the drive over to the venue. “Okay, you have to stop.” “What? Stop what?” “You have to stop complimenting me.” She was expecting him to look sheepish or mildly apologetic, but when she spared a glance in his direction, he was smirking wildly. She didn't have to explain; Jay knew. The venue was close by. It was an outdoor wedding; Hailey peered over to the side where there was a rustic looking arch, complete with delicate flowers, placed at the end of a bed of flowers. There were elegant white chairs spread out amongst the ground, and Hailey could see a number of guests had already taken their seats. Over to the other side, was a multitude of tables decorated beautifully in white and silver aesthetic colours. There was also a dance floor in between all the tables, and a stage where instruments were neatly laid out. "This place looks fantastic," Jay commented in awe, "Your friend did an amazing job planning." Hailey nodded in agreement. “She really did.” Before Hailey got the chance to do anything else, she was stopped by a hand on her elbow. “Hailey? Hailey Upton?” She turned to see Jake Patterson; he also attended the academy at the same time Hailey and Raquel, and god, she couldn't remember the last time she saw him. They had run in different circles, mostly because Hailey liked to keep to herself, whereas Jake was more of an entertainer type. She remembered him as energetic and slightly chaotic, and looking at him now, she could see why. "Holy shit! It's been a minute!" Jake greeted her, pulling her in for a hug before Hailey even knew what was happening. "How have you been? Where are you working now? What's new with you? Tell me everything!" Hailey merely blinked, overwhelmed by all the questions. To her left, Jay snickered and earned Jake's attention. "Shit, man. I'm so sorry. I'm Jake, Hailey and I went to the academy together!" Jay extended his hand to meet Jake's in a firm handshake. "It's no problem. I'm Jay, Hailey's partner." "Oh!" Jake's eyebrows reached nearly up into his hairline. "That's awesome! How long have you two been together?” Hailey’s brows furrowed and she glanced at Jay quickly. It took her a moment, but she understood what Jake was getting at. “Oh — no, Jake, that’s not—” Jake’s attention was pulled elsewhere when someone came up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder. They promised to get him a drink from the bar and Jake’s eyes lit up. “It was nice to see you again, Hailey!” He nodded at Jay before he hurried off. “Did he—” Jay nodded. “I think so.” Hailey couldn't help but stifle a laugh as she met Jay's eyes with a shake of the head. Neither of them addressed the issue any further  as they went on about their night, quickly finding their table after catching up with a few other friends. Being the first to arrive at their table bought a flock of others to follow their lead as the seats slowly began filling up, including the ones around them. "Bride or groom?" Both Hailey and Jay's heads snapped up at the sound of another woman speaking in their general direction. "Bride," Hailey smiled in response as she shook the hand of the woman before her. "I was in the academy with Raquel, actually. What about you?" "My husband is the groom's cousin — speaking of my damn, husband — where is he?" The woman craned her neck around in search for the man who clearly, was nowhere to be found as she settled down in her seat. "Well, at least you can keep tabs on your husband, right?" "Well actually —" "Oh! Richard! There you are! Sorry, dear — talk later? It was lovely meeting you!" For the second time that night, Hailey and Jay turned to look at each other, this time stifling a laugh at the apparent ridiculousness of the concept that they could be in any way romantically involved. Many thoughts were bouncing around in Hailey’s head but she pushed them all aside when the organ started playing and the flower girl and ring bearer started making their way down the aisle. Hailey wasn’t usually an emotional person, and she really had no idea how to react at a wedding, considering she hadn’t been to many, but she couldn’t held the proud smile accompanied by the tears that filled her blue eyes. She watched Raquel walk down the aisle with an almost bursting sense of awe, and she couldn’t be any happier for her friend. When she sat back down, she hastily wiped away the tear that escaped. She wasn’t expecting Jay to notice, but he was an observant detective, so of course he did. He hesitantly grabbed her hand and laid them in her lap. He gave her the opportunity to pull away if she wanted to, but when she looked up at him with a grateful smile, he relaxed in her grip. The ceremony was short and sweet; the reception to follow was the real party. Hailey and Jay were sat at a table with numerous other young couples, most of whom Hailey didn’t recognize. She saw the odd familiar face from back in the day but for the most part, Raquel was right; she hardly knew anyone there. Which is why she was more grateful than ever that Raquel forced her to bring someone, and that Jay was more than willing to accompany her. “So, how long have you two been together?” Hailey turned her head to meet the gaze of the friendly looking blonde to her left. The majority of her table had left to the dance floor or to mingle, but the blonde stayed in her seat while her partner chatted with another man who stopped by their table. “Oh,” Jay chuckled, deciding to intervene. “We actually—”

But frankly, Hailey found it hilarious that somehow, they’d been mistaken for a couple three times that night. So, what was the harm in having a little fun with it? Hailey turned to intertwine her arm with Jay’s and she stared up at him with fluttering eyelashes. Her actions seemed to cut him off mid sentence, and he looked down at her as if she’d gone insane. “Two years,” Hailey replied, leaning her cheek against Jay’s bicep and returning the blonde’s perky smile. She hadn’t gone undercover in a long time, and this gave her a little taste of what she’d been missing. “I’m Hailey, this is Jay.” Jay still looked bewildered, but he plastered on a smile to hide his confusion. “I’m Spencer, nice to meet you both!” She replied cheerily. “Sorry if I sound nosy, but you two are just so adorable! How did you meet?” Hailey glanced up at Jay, throwing him a tiny smile that only he could see. “You want to answer that, babe?” Jay’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he composed himself. “Uh, no babe, this is all you.” “Okay,” Hailey giggled, pulling away from him and facing Spencer. She stayed close to his side and even went as far as to grab his hand as she spoke. “I used to be a detective in robbery-homicide. I found him messing with my crime scene so naturally, I had to rip him a new one.” Spencer’s blue eyes were sparkling in excitement. “Feisty! So, not love at first sight?” “Actually, it was my crime scene,” Jay interjected, finally feeling comfortable enough to step into his character. He shot a smirk at Hailey, who raised her eyebrows. “Plus, you were late. Finders keepers.” Hailey scoffed. “That’s definitely not how it works. And like I said before, it was a robbery and there was a homicide; therefore, my scene.” “But it was a highly important case, so the commissioner wanted Chicago’s most elite unit to take over the case,” Jay shot back, eyes twinkling in amusement. Spencer’s gaze was jumping from Hailey to Jay, giggling at their banter. “And that meant me. Sorry, babe.” Hailey’s jaw dropped. She started this as a game, but Jay was here to win. Hailey turned back to Spencer with pursed lips. "Joke's on him because his boss recruited me a day later." "So, you two work together?" "We're partners," Jay explained, "She always had my six, and now she has my heart." Hailey choked on her glass of champagne, and one look at Jay's smirk, she knew he was just trying to mess with her now. He really drove it home when he stretched his arm along the back of her chair, fingers lingering on her bare shoulders. "That is absolutely adorable," Spencer cooed. Her eyes flickered up behind Jay. "Raquel! Caden! Congratulations, I'm so happy for you two!" Hailey turned to look behind her, spotting Raquel and her new husband. Immediately, Raquel's eyes dropped to Jay and Hailey's intertwined hands and an instant smirk made it's way to her lips. "Thanks, Spencer! I see you've met my friend Hailey." "And her boyfriend Jay!" Spencer tacked on with an excited smile; Hailey wanted to die at Raquel's amused expression. "They're the sweetest."

"Aren't they?" Raquel replied, trying but failing to hide the slight sarcasm in her tone. "I'm Raquel, it's nice to officially meet you, Jay." Jay happily shook her hand, moving onto her husband next. "I've heard so much about you! And congratulations on getting married, it's a beautiful wedding." "Thanks, man," Caden responded, holding onto Raquel's hand. "We need to finish the rounds. But thank you both so much for coming!" "Thanks, babe," Raquel said, leaning down to press a kiss to Hailey's cheek. "You owe me a conversation later!" She whispered. As they walked away, Jay looked at Hailey with soft eyes. "I think it's time for a drink. What do you think?" "I think it's time for a bottle," Hailey muttered, but turned to Spencer with a small smile. "We'll be back soon. Nice to meet you!" As they walked to the bar, Jay placed a low hand on the small of Hailey's back. "You want to tell me what that was all about?" Hailey ignored him until she successfully asked the bartender for a gin and tonic for her and a rum and coke for Jay. "I thought it was funny we kept getting mistaken for a couple, and I thought we could mess around with it for a bit. I wasn't expecting Raquel to show up." At his questioning expression, she continued. "Now she's going to be all I told you so and I'm going to have to hear about it for ages." "Why is she going to say 'I told you so'?" "Because she originally wanted me to bring the guy I was seeing as my date. She thought it was you because you're all over my Instagram," Hailey admitted. Jay nodded his head quizzically, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You always did like to post beautiful things." Hailey's eyes narrowed and without a second thought, she punched him in the shoulder. "That was gross, please stop." Their attention was brought back to the front when the MC announced it was time for all the single ladies to gather on the dance floor to catch the bouquet. Jay and Hailey watched as a swarm of ladies took up the entirety of the dance floor, and when Hailey didn't move, Jay shot her a curious glance. "Go on, Hails. It's your time to shine." Hailey turned to him with an incredulous expression. "I'm sorry, but do I look like the bouquet-catching type? No, thank you." Jay held his hands up in defence and turned back to the crowd. The ladies had backed up so much, they were only a few feet from where Jay and Hailey stood at the bar. The MC counted it down, and Raquel threw her bouquet on three. At the last second, Jay placed his hand on Hailey's back and shoved her forward, straight into the group of ladies who savagely fought each other for the bouquet. But as luck would have it, it landed perfectly in Hailey's unsuspecting arms. Hailey whirled around to glare angrily at Jay, but was distracted by all the congratulations from the other ladies. Raquel smirked wildly in Hailey's direction and held up her glass in cheers. Hailey really wanted to die now. A nudge from Jay's right tore his gaze away from Hailey's blushing figure. "Guess that's as bold of a hint as any, isn't it?" An older man, cradling a glass of whiskey, commented while glancing at Hailey. "You thinking of popping the question?" Jay instantly paled. "Oh, no. It's — it's too early for that." As he looked on at Hailey speaking to Raquel, he realized it wouldn't actually be the worst thing in the world for this relationship to be completely authentic, because honestly, it felt much too real to argue against it any longer. "Maybe one day." "That was ballsy, Halstead," Hailey hissed when she finally made her way back. "I have half a mind to shove this bouque—" "Dance with me." Hailey stopped, blinking in surprised. "What?" "Dance with me," Jay repeated, shrugging like it was nothing. He placed his now empty glass back on the bar and took Hailey's hand to guide her to the dance floor. His hand settled on her waist while hers hung onto his shoulder, while simultaneously holding onto her bouquet. "I was just thinking." "Yeah?" Hailey hummed. "About what?" Jay pulled her closer so he could look over her shoulder as he spoke his next few words. "Someone asked me if I was planning on proposing soon, after you caught the bouquet." He almost laughed when Hailey stumbled and accidentally stepped on his foot. "But the idea didn't totally horrify me." "Jay, what are you saying?" Hailey pulled away to look at Jay; his words were only confusing her even more. "I think you're beautiful and I always have. I think I've known for a while but I couldn't bring myself to mess up another partnership. I like you, Hailey. And to be honest, I was really glad Adam wasn't available to come with you tonight, because I don't think I would've been able to keep my cool. I like you, Hailey, and I'd really like to take you out on a date. A real date." Hailey expected many things from tonight, but a full-blown confession from Jay I-Don't-Talk-About-My-Feelings-Ever Halstead, was definitely not one of them. 

"I — I would love that." A wide smile spread across Jay's features. "By the way, it was totally my crime scene." "Oh, shut up, Halstead."

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thank you for reading & i hope you enjoyed! x 

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