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loveforpreserumsteve · 3 years ago

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Letting Go: "ALN" Story (Pre-Serum Omega!Steve and Alpha!Bucky Modern Domestic AU)

Thirty-Two:

In the morning, Steve woke before the alarm clock could even go off. Annoyed with his internal clock and the insistent way that his body reacted to any plans as though his nerves were confused that he was a kid, and it was the first day of school all over again. Hoping that he could get just a few more minutes of rest, he rolled over to cuddle with his husband, but the alpha was snoring like a chainsaw and, even without his hearing aids, the brunet was too loud for him.

Sighing, Steve looped his hearing aids around the shell of his ear and made sure the volume was on. Sliding on his glasses next, he looked over at Bucky. Always feeling more protective when the man was sleeping since he looked so peaceful and innocent.

Before climbing out of the king size bed, Steve leaned over to kiss his forehead. Momentarily jealous of how heavy of a sleeper his husband was. Even more jealous of the cats that were cuddled up to the still-sleeping alpha.

Deciding to get a jump on his day, he finished his morning routine and left the master suite. Princess Butterfly yowled from the sofa as she greeted him a good morning, and Steve rolled his eyes. “’Morning to you too, PB.”

Starting with refilling the cats’ food dispenser and giving them fresh water. Then, getting things ready to make French Toast. And since he had a good half hour before he could make the birthday breakfast, he scavenged around for something to make the breakfast a little more festive.

Some candles, a couple of balloons, sprinkles to top the short stacks – score! Getting some of the kids’ crayons and different colored construction paper, Steve got to work making a banner. Because Steve would be damned if he didn’t make this special for the teen, no matter how last minute it was.

Almost done with the second word, Steve checked the clock and wondered where the time had gone. Frantically, he tried to rush to finish the last four letters so he could tape them with the others above the kitchen archway before Ian woke up.

After putting the step-ladder away, Steve checked the clock again and was relieved to find that he had five minutes to spare and enough time to get breakfast started. Usually, Steve didn’t mind Ian being such an early bird, but today, as he hurried to get things ready for his special day, he wished that the teen was more like his own kids who tried to sleep for as long as they could.

“Oh. Oh, wow.”

Turning, Steve found Oliver. The teen was looking at the impromptu decorations and grinned, “You’ve been busy.”

“Well,” Steve shrugged, turning back to flip the current slice of French Toast. Clarifying, “Ian is a part of the family. He deserves to have a special day too.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the frying slice of bread, so Steve assumed that he was by himself again. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched Oliver sit at the breakfast bar. It was early for him, but Steve wasn’t going to complain.

“You could at least make yourself useful,” Steve half-teased as he gestured to the balloons that he hadn’t had time to blow up.

“I don’t, uh,” Oliver attempted to argue, “I don’t think Ian cares about whether there’s balloons or –“

“Oliver Thomas,” Steve crossed his arms along his chest, “I can’t believe that you’re not going to help make this a special day for your boyfriend.”

Sighing, Oliver reached for the balloons and started blowing them up. Nodding to himself, Steve turned back to the hob to get the next batch of French Toast ready. Hoping that they got everything done by the time that –

“Whose birthday?”

Nearly jumping out of his skin, Steve turned to find Ian. Immediately, he announced, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

Which seemed to confuse the teen. His thick brows furrowing even further. Then Steve’s mind caught up with Ian’s initial question and he clarified, “Yours. It’s your birthday.”

“Um,” Ian paused looking at Oliver. And since the alpha was, Steve did too. Taking a seat at the breakfast bar beside him, Ian informed, “Thank you, but my birthday is October third.”

Placing a hand on his hip, Steve pointed the spatula at his oldest son, “But Ollie said that today was your birthday, and your favorite breakfast was French Toast.”

“When did you do that?” Ian asked Oliver who was busying himself with blowing up balloons.

Sheepishly, Oliver announced, “April Fools?”

“Come again?” Steve cupped his hand around his ear as he waited for the teen to repeat what he thought he said.

“April Fools,” Oliver sighed. Shrugging, he explained, “It was better than pretending to be pregnant.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, and then he joked, “It’d be a shame if your dad killed Ian. We actually like him.”

Oliver rolled his eyes and deadpanned, “Hilarious. You should’ve been a comedian.”

Redirecting his attention to the stove, Steve complained, “So, you’re telling me that I woke up a half an hour earlier than normal and rushed to get all this stuff done only for it all to be a prank?”

“Yeah,” Oliver confirmed. “Pretty funny, right?”

“You know what,” Steve decided, walking away from the stove. Handing the spatula to his oldest, “You wanted French Toast, you make it.”

Grasping the spatula before it could drop, Oliver asked, “Wait, what? Seriously?”

Taking the short stack of already made French Toast, Steve sat down at the table, “Seriously.”

“But what if they burn? I’ve never made French Toast before,” Oliver complained, approaching the stove as though it was a dangerous animal.

“No better time to learn than the present,” Steve shrugged, cutting a spear of his French Toast.

“Pops,” Oliver nearly whined as he looked helplessly at the frying pan.

“For heaven’s sake,” Ian sighed, rounding the island so he could help his boyfriend.

“No.” Steve instructed, “Oliver was the one who played this prank. He’s the one who deals with the consequences.”

“Pops,” Oliver did whine that time.

“Oliver,” Steve mocked, chewing another bite.

Looking over at Ian, Oliver complained, “Why couldn’t you have just played along?”

“Maybe I would’ve if I was informed about this plan,” Ian replied, sitting down in his previous seat.

“Maybe I would’ve if you didn’t go to bed so early,” Oliver blamed, not paying attention to the French Toast in the frying pan and how it was definitely –

“Is something burning?”

Looking over to where Finn was standing. Black curls staticky and frizzy, fixing his glasses on his face. Almost startled, Oliver spun back around to face the stove. Immediately flipping the burnt slice of French Toast, he muttered, “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Watch it, squirt,” Steve warned.

Blinking up at the homemade birthday banner, Finn asked, “Whose birthday?”

Ian’s golden-brown complexion reddened as he attempted to slump further down in his seat to make him seem smaller. Steve spoke up before any more attention could be drawn to the kind-hearted alpha, “Your brother’s.”

“Now it all makes sense!” Finn joked, “Secretly born on April Fool’s since you’re a joke!”

“Ha,” Oliver deadpanned. Pointing to the mostly burnt slice of French Toast, he told his younger brother, “This is your breakfast. Maybe be a little nicer.”

“Pops,” Finn playfully tattled, “Ollie’s burning breakfast.”

Finishing his breakfast, Steve sighed and stood. Figuring that just because Oliver pranked him didn’t mean that the rest of the family should suffer the consequences. So, after putting his plate in the dishwasher, Steve took the spatula from his oldest and went back to making breakfast.

When Bucky woke up and meandered into the kitchen, he companionably clapped his hand on Ian’s back and wished, “Happy birthday!”

“Oh, uh,” Ian looked up at Steve for help while Oliver attempted to muffle his snickering. Steve nodded, encouraging the teen to play along. “Thanks, Mr. Barnes.”

“Of course,” Bucky smiled before rounding the island to join Steve by the stove. Hugging him from behind, Bucky kissed the mating bite, just as he always did. “’Morning, doll.”

“’Morning,” Steve smiled, turning to kiss him.

From the table, all of the kids mocked gags, but the older men didn’t seem to care. Instead, Bucky twirled Steve and dipped the petite omega so he could kiss him deeper.

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lettrespromises · 4 years ago

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MIDNIGHT STRIKES ALL OVER AGAIN. - USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI.

A.N: ❝ Dear reader, I know I’m always late to the party (pun not intended) and I missed Ushiwaka’s birthday so here’s my late birthday gift to you all. This big boi needs to be showered in love and affection, that’s all I have to say. I hope you will enjoy this letter! Sincerely yours, Nikki. P.S: @amoroushero, this letter has your name all over it.❞

Letter Object : Ushijima is back from yet another professional trip right when the clock strikes midnight. In the world of the imaginary, midnight is always painted as the hour which makes all of your most secret wishes come true. And the vision of your divine self in lingerie makes him wonder if the midnight legend is a curse or a blessing. Word Count : 3K. Warnings (please consider that all the characters are aged up) : Strip-tease, feminine masturbation, thigh riding, mentions of sex, cursing.

Midnight strikes once. According to the collective imaginary, midnight was the most paradoxical hour- the thin balance between the fading night and the renaissance of the day, the temporal metaphor of a mirage where one’s most intimate desires magically appear and cruelly disappear once the clock is close to striking the first hour of the day. Truthfully, it was an hour composed of irregular rules, perhaps it was why said hour paradoxically evoked both secrecy and fear to the common eye. Anyone with a mind meddled with collective desires would believe that midnight is indeed a magic night, the sole hour which seemed disconnected from the day, much like a rupture with space and time, if you will.

Anyone with a mind meddled with collective desires, correct? Oh, well. It’s safe to say that this isn’t much of Ushijima Wakatoshi’s taste. His mind, however, was exclusively logical and rational, solely based on the concept of empiricism, the science of experience.

Had he ever witnessed something out of the ordinary once the clock strikes midnight? Not that he can reckon. Had he ever felt cursed because he walked under a ladder? The answer is negative once more. It was logic against popular beliefs.

Perhaps, he would succumb to the temptations of his subconsciousness just this time. Perhaps, he was ready to give in and believe in the mystery gravitating around this mysterious hour. Perhaps, just perhaps, his most secret desires would come undone now that the clock had struck midnight.

The sudden sound of his bag hitting the familiar floor of his living room was the key to break him free from the constant roaming of his mind fed by his deepest temptations. He blinked once, then twice. Truthfully, he didn’t even realize the hold on his bag had gone loose, but he was too shameful to acknowledge the influence of his thoughts on his behavior.

Empiricism, correct? The science of experience. Oh, well, there was nothing too philosophical about his post-travel routine, it was already embedded in his brain, much like reflexes if you will. His motions were similar to a pre-programmed machine, it was repetitive, but he found a secret comfort in routines.

The presence of the stairs in his field of vision was odd this time- if he was careful enough, he could have sworn that said stairs were tempting him and whispering for him to go upstairs, that something or rather someone was waiting for him upstairs, the living portrait of his buried fantasies.

His palm clenched around the ramp, his fingertips adopted a white shade under the force of the pressure he ignored he was exercising. And thus, his feet moved as if they had a mind of their own. Something hidden in him attracted him even more so than usual upstairs, he couldn’t exactly picture nor describe with precision what was happening but it was tempting. After all, he was just a man against his temptations.

What intrigued him most, however, was the hint of light escaping from the door leading to your shared bedroom. “It’s midnight already. She should be sleeping already.” There it went again- his reason thrown into this inner battle against the enticing mirages blocking his mind, truth be told, it was his last attempt at remaining master of his own mind.

Curiosity was the fuel to the fire that was his roaming mind, and just by opening cautiously the oh so common door, the fire had turnt into an untamable inferno. And he could pinpoint the moment where he knew that his logic alone would not be enough to absorb the inhuman beauty of the scenery laying before his eyes. Inhuman, perhaps, just perhaps, that was the nature of the magic of the midnight hour.

There you were- laying in all your glory. Worthy of a figure of a Renaissance painting who had just came to life and escaped from the canvas, worthy of an idol where worshippers would gather around and sing your praises, worthy of the endless and most loving description of one of Jane Austen’s characters. You were, very literally, given Ushijima’s nature, out of this world.

Your frame, which exuded an almost perceivable aura of desire and temptation, strategically placed on the edge of your king-sized bed and emphasized by the grip of your fingertips on the brim of the bedsheets, testified how eager you were to see the personification of your missing piece, the sole person who could claim he could make you feel whole again.

Ushijima swore he could have gotten drunk on the sight of you- the scarlet colored lingerie was embracing your every curve, and thus, he secretly wondered if the color you had chosen was a hint at the passion and sensuality red usually transcribes to in the common imaginary. The right amount of lace was covering your most sensual areas and yet, like a paradox if you will, the transparency of said lace which ‘covered’ your chest appeared as the forbidden fruit. Ushijima knew very well that if he were to bite it, a world of sins and agonizing temptations would welcome him with open arms. Once again, he was just a man against his temptations.

And, oh boy, the gaiters wrapped around your legs made him wonder whether or not you were able to read his mind and enter the most secret side of his subconsciousness where he usually buries all his most cherished fantasies, but he still refused to believe in the magic of the midnight hour.

“Hey, pretty boy, are you still daydreaming?” Truth be told, and it was a shame to admit it, he hadn’t even noticed that you had left the bed and dangerously reduced the space between the both of you. His mind kept repeating the image of your figure sat on the brim of the bed, over and over again. “Forgive me, it seems I was a bit distracted, Y/N.” You hummed in response, and that was the sole hint he needed to understand that you absolutely did not believe him.

“I wonder what you were daydreaming about, Ushi.” Before he could react, he felt a slight tug which brought him to your level- his tie was in the heart of your palm, but all he wanted to say, to scream even, is that you were on his mind and he was daydreaming about you and your divine figure. You led him by his tie until reaching your shared bed.

“Sit.” He was in such a trance, he was drinking every word pouring from your lips, and so he did sit on the edge of the bed. You, in return, placed each one of your legs around his own and deemed his lap as your seat. The gleam in your eyes screamed nothing short of passionate, it was the proof of how much you wanted to cherish him. “You know, Ushi, you’ve been away for your birthday...” Reflex kicked, his brows furrowed, he couldn’t help but feel like this was his fault. “Y/N, if you wished to spend-...” You hushed him by placing your index above his lips. “I wasn’t finished! So, back to what I was saying: since you’ve been away for your birthday, I wasn’t quite able to give you your gift, right? And what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t give you your birthday gift?”

The gears in his head started to shift once he acknowledged the grin plastered upon your face, his mouth was agape but no sound came out, he couldn’t form proper sentences when the sight of you was so hypnotizing. The way your finger would hook around the strap of your bra while your opposite hand had already cupped his jaw, he knew he was entirely under your spell. “So... Why don’t you let me give you your birthday gift? What do you say, baby? Do you want your birthday gift?”

This time, the sole finger wrapped around the strap of your bra travelled down to the valley of your breasts and traced invisible patterns on the surface of your skin. “Yes, my love, I would very much like to receive my gift.” Such a miracle, he managed to form a proper sentence, which surprised himself first out of the both of you. The grin already plastered upon your face only widened once his words connected to your eardrums, “But, the sole condition is that you can’t touch your gift. You can look, but no touching, got that, hun?”

He gulped at the sound of your condition, and probably swallowed his burning desire to get his hands all over you and explore your body as if it was the first time in the process. Ushijima nodded at your request, which earned him a peck on his plump lips as a reward. “You’re such a good boy for me. Now, observe your birthday gift, okay? Remember? No touching.”

And so it began- the unravelling of his most precious birthday gift, and fuck, you were to die for. Just the fact that you held all of Ushijima’s attention in the palm of your hand was enough to fire you up, after all, he did need to relieve some stress after his matches.

Your right hand left his jaw and joined the other on the valley of your chest, both of your palms were cupping your breasts through the fabric in circular motions so the skin of this sensual area could keep a constant contact. Sure, the transparent fabric of your lace bra was ideal to let his imagination roam and create the most passionate scenarios in his head, but the ‘no touching’ stipulation was already too much torture. And, truth be told, you deserved to satisfy your own pleasure too.

Your arched your back just enough to slip your fingers underneath the material and unhook your bra in the process, right before to slip both of the straps down and thus, become set free from the piece of lingerie. Ushijima’s hot breath, a clear sign of impatience, directly landed on your nipples. It was pure torture, observing you in all your glory but being so powerless hurt him, it was an inner battle with himself.

The pads of your thumb and index pinched the buds of your nippled and applied slight twisting motions to make you earn a dash of pleasure, the movements of your fingers were hypnotizing, it made you feel so much bliss and yet, Ushijima couldn’t find the inner strength to land his stare elsewhere. Right when you pinched your nipple once more, the first of a long concerto of whimpers broke free out of your mouth. Instinctively, Ushijima’s gaze derived from your chest to your mouth where pure sounds of pleasure started to gather and echo. Fuck, he wished he was the one to make you provoke these noises, feeling helpless was consuming him.

You kept the pressure on your left nipple while your other hand travelled down to your crotchless underwear, and oh boy, what a surprise it was when Ushijima realized that you were wearing his favorite kind of piece of lingerie, leading him to wonder if each of your actions had his name written all over them.

He couldn’t help but dig his teeth into his lower lip to maintain any grunts from escaping his mouth at the sight of your thumb rubbing your bundle of nerves, this scenery evoked so many memories. Pleasing ones, that is- like the time he was laying right between your thighs and sucked on your clit until you cried his name and begged for him to stop. This time, roles were reversed, he was going to beg you to let him touch you.

The repetitive circular motions on your clit were building this inner fire within you, a shy moan echoed in the room, and Ushijima could only grunt at the melodious yet sinful sound, he didn’t know if it was a grunt of frustration or of pleasure. “It feels... So good, baby. If only... If only you knew.” If only he knew, that was the problem. He couldn’t imagine, he didn’t know. The sole option left was to retrospect on all the times he left your legs shaking and your mouth agape and drooling on the bedsheets. And yet, he still couldn’t detach his eyes from the beauty of the pressure applied on your clit. Fucking mesmerizing.

He couldn’t touch you, he couldn’t even settle his hands on your hips, he was forbidden from any physical contact with your skin (which was clearly calling and begging for his presence) and he wasn’t sure if he could hold on for very long.

Ushijima almost lost it when a sudden moan broke the chain of uneven breaths caused by the new presence of two of your fingers inside your soaking core. He knew he couldn’t break his promise, but he also knew that his length would fit your wet velvet walls much better than your fingers. But it didn’t stop you from continuing, your thumb was still brushing your precious bundle of nerves while the two fingers inside you had already started in-and-out motions to build as much pleasure as you could.

“A-Ah! Oh my... So fucking good, baby.” It may be selfish, but he secretly hated the way you couldn’t scream his name, there was no more enticing sound than the sound of his name coated in pleasure breaking free from your mouth. Ushijima threw his head back and shut his lids closed, trying to reminisce all the times he had his length buried deep inside of you was his sole option to keep him sane. “You’re doing good, babygirl, very good.” The crescendo of your moans was the first hint that the pressure within your stomach was starting to build up and you were chasing your pleasure, after all, you were a good girl and deserved his praises.

The surface of your forehead crashed onto his broad shoulder, it was your turn to shut your eyes and listen to the cries of pleasure building up in your body. The expertise of your fingers were about to send you over the edge, you knew it was just a matter of time before you could perceive just a hint of heaven. The motions of your fingers put you in a half-conscious state, you were no longer able to control the trail of moans living your mouth, much to Ushijima’s own personal pleasure. It was his favorite melody.

“Do it for me, babygirl, will you?” The sensation of his hot breath hitting the crook of your neck was yet another step to sending you over the edge, his presence alone was the key to of all your most intense fantasies. You gathered enough strength to hum in response, and boy, the scenery before him was breathtaking.

You took out both of your fingers from your dripping core and knew your were on the fast lane to chase your pleasure, you were just a few fingertips away to feel pure bliss wash over your body. Instead, you settled yourself on Ushijima’s left thigh and the small grin plastered upon his face showed that he knew what was coming.

Your bundle of nerves was perfectly set upon Ushijima’s rock hard thigh, isn’t he a sweetheart? He flexed his muscled to offer you the best tools to reach your orgasm. Your hips buckled as a tentative thrust and you kept going relentlessly upon the ever so pleasing sensation of his muscles brushing over your clit. Sure, he couldn’t touch you but that didn’t mean you couldn’t bend the rules your way.

Soon enough, and as the thrusts followed and gained a faster pace, his name fell on your lips like a forbidden prayer and you knew you couldn’t call out to him to touch you. There laid all the torture of your own gift, you wanted to give him the best show, coming undone right before his eyes was your most intimate gift, after all.

The muscles of your legs tensed and you knew it was closer and closer. You threw your head back in ecstasy and arched your back. Your moans rivaled with Ushijima’s grunts, while he soaked in his favorite moment where you were about to be overwhelmed with pleasure. “Ah, fuck! I-I’m coming...” And with one last brush of his thigh against your clit, you felt several waves of heat wash over your body while your mind went numb- even through your shut lids, you could perceive stars. It was a moment of pure serenity, pure bliss, and the contortion of your faces testified of the overwhelming feeling of pleasure roaming over your body.

It was a facial expression Ushijima would never get sick of seeing, hell, he could paint your face in the middle of an orgasm with his eyes closed if you were to ask him. Your uneven breaths started following a more regular pattern, and you finally opened your eyes just to be met with the hint of a smirk with devilish intentions painted upon Ushijima’s face. “You’re a good girl, a very good girl. I thoroughly enjoyed my birthday gift, my love. Now, I believe it’s my time to offer you something in return. Fret not, you will be able to touch me anywhere you desire.”

Midnight strikes all over again.

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fanfictionaries · 5 years ago

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A Fine Line Between Lust and Hate - jbbuckybarnes Birthday Challenge

Thank you to @jbbuckybarnes for this fun writing challenge! Congratulations on over 900 followers and also happy 21st birthday! It’s a fun age, enjoy it!

Prompt 1: Bookstore AU

Prompt 2: “Just gimme the book and fuck off!”

Pairing: AU Bookstore!Bucky Barnes X female reader

Summary: If there was one person you hated more than anyone else in the world it was James Buchanan “Call Me Bucky” Barnes. Or at least, you thought you did. As Bucky continues to press your patience, it becomes unclear as to whether it’s hate you feel, or lust.

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: Swearing, smut, doggy style, oral (male receiving), NSFW/18+ only

Author’s Note: Man, I do love a good rousing debate over literature.

***

You stood in one of the long aisles as you worked on putting the store’s most recent influx of donations on the shelves. The endless rows of historical memories stretched high above your head and all around you. However, the large stack in front of you currently sat untouched, a copy of Ernst Jünger’s Storm of Steel held tightly in your grasp, as you watched the events occurring at the front desk. Your coworker, James, was leant casually against the counter, once again ignoring his work duties as he openly and obnoxiously flirted with the woman in front of him.

God, you hated him. You hated his stupid long hair that he pulled up into a stupid bun. You hated his stupid tight jeans that hugged his thick thighs and his stupid red Henley that accentuated his muscular shoulders and arms. You hated his stupid handsome face that only fueled his overall cocky attitude. God, you absolutely hated James Buchanan ‘Call Me Bucky’ Barnes.

You hadn’t set out to hate him of course. Quite the opposite in fact. When your boss informed you of a new employee who wasn’t a billion-year-old woman, you had been ecstatic. Not to say you didn’t love Lucille, but to finally meet a person close to your age that loved books so much they were willing to work at the musty, expansive bookstore was a dream come true. For years now, you’d found yourself spending more time alone, tucked into the rows of books than you did with anyone your own age. You’d think that the kitschy bookstore would be a draw to the younger individuals in town, with the rise of intellectualism or at least the guise of intellectualism within today’s youth. Not to mention, the fact that it was nestled in between the cutest antique store and 50’s style diner. But, alas, it didn’t seem to be on trend for your town. Instead, you got the odd stragglers of older individuals who still enjoyed reading physical books, and local community college students looking to either sell or buy books for classes. That’s why the idea of coming into work every day to a coworker you could relate to was beyond wonderful. However, it hadn’t taken long for James to get so far under your skin, you practically wore him like a pair of itchy long johns.

It had started with his complete disregard for the books and their safety. As a self-proclaimed bibliophile, you took great pride in the care and safety of the books in the store. They were a mix of new and used, the older ones coming into your protective arms the moment you clocked the torn corners and dog-eared pages. You spent hours restoring them before putting them out to be appreciated by the next reader. That’s why, on his third day there when you’d spotted him using his copy of Catcher in the Rye as a coaster for his iced coffee, you’d nearly had an aneurysm. You wished that the situation was a one-time thing, but every time you turned a corner, he was bending spines, creasing pages, WRITING in the margins. He was a book sadist.

Then of course, there was the lackadaisical way in which he approached his job. Not once, not twice, but ten times in the last three months you had stayed late finishing work that had been assigned to him. Why did you do it, instead of letting him take the fall for shoddy work? Well, because it was always things that needed to be done either before the shop could close or before the shop could open. Closing out the till, turning off all the lights, locking the back door, fixing the displays, picking up the giant stack of books that had fallen near the back, changing a burnt-out light using the very old and very rickety ladder.

And lastly, the one thing you absolutely hated the most about him was just how incredibly flirty he was! From the very beginning, he took every opportunity to hit on you. At first it had been flattering, but incredibly jarring and confusing. What could he possibly want with you? He looked like that and you looked like, well people didn’t really want to date the weird bookstore girl that always smelled faintly of old books. Then, it had all come into focus. James flirted with everyone. Not just you. Everyone. The moment a woman under the age of forty walked through those front doors, James was there with his stupid charming ways; “Can I help you with anything today?” “What’s a beautiful woman like you doing in here today?” “I knew a woman of your caliber would have good taste in books.” All the while, he’d chance little glances your way, smirking at you and raising his eyebrows slightly. It was all a game to him. Prick.

“Now, see, that is a fantastic choice. I knew the moment you walked in you had good taste,” stated James pointing down at the copy of The God of Small Things that was currently clutched to the woman’s chest in her perfectly manicured hands. You rolled your eyes. Ridiculous. You glanced over again to see James smirking in your direction before he walked the woman to the front door and waved her goodbye, shutting and locking the door behind her. Last customer of the day. You sighed, turning back to the stacks in front of you and swiftly putting the books back into place. The quicker you got this done, the quicker you would be out of there and away from James’ mocking face and overall itchy personality. You continued to put the books away, probably harsher than you should have, as you listened to the faint sounds of James closing out the till. Well, at least he was doing that today. I knew the moment you walked in you had good taste, you mocked him in your head, huffing and puffing at just how infuriating he was. You winced at a particularly harsh shove of a book into the shelve. Quickly, you pulled it out and inspect the corners and sides of the hard cover.

“Careful there—” a pair of large hands came into your line of site, snatching the book from your hands “—What did Michael Herr ever do to you?”

“Nothing,” you huffed, turning to grab the book back, but coming up unsuccessful. “Although, I really would prefer it if you didn’t allow customers to stay so late past closing.”

“Why? Got somewhere to be? Hot date?” James asked, circling around you to lean against the bookshelves to your right.

You snorted, “As if that’s any of your business.”

“Come on. Lighten up a little bit (Y/N). She needed help finding a good book for her English class,” said James, pulling the book out of reach as you attempted to grab it back from him once again.

“Okay,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes and reaching back down to the stack of books remaining on the cart to your left.

“What? You got something against Indian authors writing about caste relations and cultural tensions?”

“No, but I think if Roy tried to squeeze one more literary device into the text, the book would literally explode. Nobody genuinely enjoys a work where the author is intentionally trying to be clever. It’s obnoxious,” you said as you continued to put the books into their correct spaces as quickly as possible.

“Oh, so I guess you don’t care for Shakespeare then? What about Vonnegut, Anne Rice, Tolkien? Every author thinks they’re clever (Y/N). If they didn’t, they wouldn’t be writers,” said James, crossing his arms and leaning towards you condescendingly.

“That’s-that’s just ridiculous,” you responded lamely, placing the last book in your pile away.

“Oh really? Then please, oh smart one, name a single author who didn’t take themselves so seriously that it didn’t bleed through their work in some way,” James challenged, once again pulling the book in his hands away from your reaching hands.

You stood there, glowering at the man in front of you as you tried to come up with some king of answer. “C. S. Lewis,” you blurted out, wanting to kick yourself at the obviously stupid answer.

A barking laugh left James, “Oh come on. The man spent most of his career preaching Christian values and what it means to be moral. He even went so far as to write a short story on what the afterlife looks like and how to get into heaven. Or are we just going to pretend like The Great Divorce didn’t happen? Just because he wrote a bunch of entertaining children’s stories bathed in Christian symbolism with little effort does not mean that he didn’t take himself seriously.”

His astute criticism caught you off guard and peaked your anger, mainly because to a certain extent he was right. That didn’t mean you were going to let him know that though, “Excuse you! I’ll have you know he wrote The Great Divorce after the death of his wife. What else was he supposed to write about? You know what James—”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Bucky?”

“Just gimme the book and fuck off!”

Your eyes widened at your outburst. You’d never spoken to anyone like that before in your life. Opening your mouth to apologize, you quickly closed it when James sighed heavily and pushed himself off of the bookshelf. He stared at you, his eyes calculating as he closed the space between you, slamming the good on the shelf behind your head. You jumped, turning so that you faced him head on, your back to the endless rows of books. James placed an intimidatingly large arm on either side of you, bracing himself against oak shelves. You swallowed thickly at the sheer size of him. Your pulse quickened. He had never been this close to you.

“You know what (Y/N)? I think you’re just jealous,” James murmured, tilting his head dangerously low to yours.

“Jealous? Of what?” you asked, your voice embarrassingly breathy, as your head began to swim. He was so close. So close you could smell his cologne, a musky warm scent mixed with the fresh scent of soap and…old books? Subtly, you tried to inhale more of the tantalizing smell without James noticing. But one glance up and you could see that familiar smirk and cocky gleam in his eye.

“Me, and every woman that walks in here ready to fuck me in the encyclopedia section.”

You gasped at his words, “That’s ridiculous. Why would I be jealous of that?”

“Because you want to fuck me in the encyclopedia section.”

“I—I do not—I do not want to—I hate you!”

James leaned closer, his nose brushing against yours, “Doesn’t mean you don’t want to fuck me—” His head titled, his lips brushing across your cheek, your jawline, and then to the shell of your ear. “—Just say the word and I’ll take you right there. Right then. Any time. Any day.”

You shivered at the offer. Never had his flirting gone this far. Sure, James had given you a flirtatious smile and charming little comment here and there, but never had he come close to propositioning you. You should say no. You hate him. He’s everything you despise and yet…

“Fuck it.” Rising up on the tips of your toes, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his in a searing kiss. James’ lips claim yours, never hesitating for a second, as if expecting it. The soft skin of his plush lips a stark contrast to the harsh way in which you both battled for dominance. Every ounce of anger, frustration, and tension that you held towards him fought its way through your body as you nipped, bit, and tugged. James’ hands moved from the bookshelf to your body, gripping your hips and tugging you harshly against him, revealing the same level of pent up aggression. His hands traveled upwards, cupping your breasts through your sweater, roughly massaging them as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Threading your fingers into his hair, you tugged harshly earning you a growl from James. Breaking away from the kiss just long enough to pull your sweater up and over your head, your bodies reconnected, the feel of your bare torso against him feeling oh so right. You continued to hang onto him for dear life, as his kisses left you breathless and needy. Bringing a leg up around his hip, your pelvis rocked against him, searching for any kind of friction as you climbed him like a tree.

“Eager, aren’t we?” James teased, hands moving down to harshly grasp your ass and lift you up. Wrapping your legs around his hips, you allowed him to carry you the brief distance away from the bookshelves and lower you onto the rough carpet floor. Trailing kisses down your neck and towards your breasts, he roughly yanked the cups of your bra down before taking a nipple between his teeth. You arched into his mouth, loving the sting as he bit down.

“God, I knew you’d be a fucking little minx,” panted James, sitting up on his knees. “Look at you all sexy and needy. Just had to get you to let go.”

Pushing up onto your elbows, you stared up at him, “Shut the fuck up and take your shirt off James.”

Swinging his hand down, he swatted the inside of your thigh, “The name’s Bucky, babe.”

Your head fell backwards at the contact and your pussy clenched as you moaned low. Sitting up, you ripped his shirt from his torso and threw it behind you before pushing him down onto the ground. You made quick work of removing your bra, shoes, and pants before reaching for his belt buckle. This time it was his turn to push up onto his elbows as he watched your near naked form, undo his belt and then his pants. You tugged at his pants and then his boxers in a desperate manner, James kicking off his shoes and socks to held aid in their removal. Finally, when he was naked before you, you took a moment to admire the lean curves of his muscular form and the thick cock that sat just below his belly button, nestled in a patch of short brown curls.

Running your nails lightly up and down his thighs, you smirked as he writhed below you, sucking in a harsh breath through his teeth. Lowering yourself slowly, you positioned yourself between his thick thighs and grasped the base of his cock in your hand, wasting no time in wrapping your lips around the head and swirling your tongue around him. Bucky cursed, low and sexy as you took him in your mouth. You worked him with your lips and tongue as your moved lower and lower. Spit gathered in your mouth as you breathed through your nose, giving your all into pleasuring the man below you. You wanted to once and for all wipe the smirk off of James “Bucky” Barnes’ face. When you made it almost all the way to the base, you hollowed your cheeks, sucking as you massaged the vein on the underside of his cock with your tongue. His hands flew to the back of your head, fingers lacing in your hair and gripping tight. He held onto you for dear life as you attempted to suck the soul out of him through his dick alone.

“Jesus Christ! Fuck! (Y/N),” he yelled, his body shuddering. When you slipped down the last few inches, allowing his cock to slip easily down your throat, he stilled, body rigid before he pulled you off of him with a curse.

You fell backwards onto your hands, spit coating your lips and drool falling down your chin as you breathed in deeply. A low growl escaped James’ throat as he launched himself at you, flipping you onto your stomach, and ripping your panties down your legs. His hands found your center in no time, his fingers delving deep into your core easily, aided by the embarrassing amount of arousal there. James fingered you, curving and finding that special spot inside of you that made your see stars. You yelped, bucking your hips back against him. His teeth sunk into the supple flesh of your ass.

“You’re god damn dripping down my arm (Y/N). Did sucking my cock turn you on that much?”

“Yes!” you admitted, continuing to rock your hips against him. Pulling his fingers from you, you whimpered at the loss of contact. The loss was only temporary though, as soon James was pulling your hips up, placing you back on your knees, face still pressed against the carpet as he lined his cock up with your entrance. There was no slow and delicate start. No, in one swift thrust, he was seated fully inside of you, hands firmly grasping your ass as he began to fuck you at a punishing pace.

“Fucking hell baby. Your pussy is like a vice-grip. I don’t think I’m going to last long,” he admitted, continuing to pound into you, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust. He reached down, finding your clit and rubbing light, fast circles around it until you began to feel the familiar pressure building in your lower abdomen.

“Yes! Bucky! Fuck. Just like that, don’t stop!” you cried, desperate to reach your climax. The carpet scraped against your skin, sure to leave burns after. But you didn’t care. The only thing you cared about was the delicious stretch of your cunt around Bucky’s cock and your imminent orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Say my fucking name again. Say my name as you cum all around me.”

You chanted his name over and over again, Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, until finally you were approaching the edge and falling over. Your body shuddered and hips bucked as you came, loving the feeling of every hard ridge of Bucky’s thick cock inside of you. A few seconds late, he was pulling out of you and then you felt the warm streams of cum splashing across your ass. You collapsed fully onto the carpet below you, Bucky falling after you and rolling to lay beside you. You laid there, in post-orgasmic bliss. The feeling of Bucky’s fingertips trailing up and down your spine soothing you down from your high. After a little while, the two of your stood up and began to redress. Bucky, ever the gentleman, told you to wait as he ran to the front counter and came back with some tissues before wiping up the mess he had made on your ass.

Once you were both dressed, you finished closing up the store. Neither of you spoke, instead choosing to spare the other furtive little glances as you turned out the lights and locked the door behind you both.

“Looks like the diner is still open. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” Bucky asked, looking down at you giving you a small, shy smile that you’d never seen on him before.

His question caught you off guard. He wanted to buy you coffee. “Oh, Bucky. You don’t have to feel obligated to—”

“—I don’t feel obligated. I, um, I want to.” He swallowed thickly, almost as if he was nervous. Was he nervous? “I know we just, well, I know we skipped a few steps, but I actually do want to take you out. I’ve been trying to hint it to you for the past three months.”

“So, all the flirting with the customers…?”

“Was me stupidly trying to make you jealous,” laughed Bucky, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets.

“Ah,” you said, a smiling spreading across your face, “How about you buy me a coffee and tell me all your thoughts on Brontë.”

“How much time do you have?” asked Bucky with an exaggerated groan.

Holding your hand out to him, you reveled in the feel of his warm palm connecting with yours, “All the time in the world.”

Marvel Taglist:

@caffiend-queen

@hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

#jbbuckybarnesBirthdayChallenge #fanfic #fanfiction #bookstoreau #smut #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #marvel

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jaxsteamblog · 5 years ago

Text

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Click here to read the full fic on AO3

Katara stood in the garden watching as Thuy paced back and forth, a large boulder floating beside her. As she walked, Thuy chewed on her thumbnail and mumbled under her breath.

“I don’t understand the problem.” Katara said.

“I have aphantasia Katara!” Thuy cried and flung her arms out. The boulder went flying, thankfully crashing into the outer garden wall and not the palace.

“And that means?”

“It means I have no inner eye. I can’t plan anything out.” Thuy replied, her voice thin as she whined.

“No I get that. I just don’t understand why we’re terraforming.” Katara said.

“Because it has to be perfect.” Thuy froze patches on the pond to walk across, heading toward the boulder. Katara held the stepping stones of ice as she followed.

“You can just ask him.” Katara stepped onto the grass and watched as Thuy pried the boulder loose. As it popped free, she then attempted to smooth away the dent in the rock wall.

“He’s the Fire Lord. It’s a little bit different than asking people who are expecting it.” Thuy muttered.

“I just don’t think you need to go through all this trouble. Zuko would be happy to do it.”

“You haven’t seen him since he became Fire Lord. He’s all grumpy and stressed out now.”

Katara flinched at Thuy’s words. “I have seen him!”

“I meant in person.” Thuy turned and trotted back across the pond. It took a minute before Katara followed.

It was true, she hadn’t seen Zuko in the months since his coronation. She was still technically being trained, and Zuko now officially had his kingdom to run. Plus, with Ozai and Azula in prison, he was under a lot of emotional stress.

They had talked it out over their video chats, but time was scarce for both of them. Katara was only here in the Fire Nation because it was Thuy’s birthday; she had missed his birthday a few weeks prior. What felt like her attempt to make up for it, the ever romantic Thuy wasn’t kidding about what she had said in the Avatar State. She was clearly showering Zuko with her favor, and now Katara wondered how much of it was an unnecessary bribe.

A lot of people were reading into Thuy’s birthday party plans. The televised Agni Kai had in fact almost caused an international incident. The Fire Lord had openly attacked the Avatar, which was generally frowned upon. And while Zuko had triumphed, Ozai’s betrayal left a sour taste in every leader’s mouth; they had been dealing with Fire Nation turmoil for a hundred years after all.

Since the fight, Thuy was attached to Zuko. She frequently commented on their shared ancestry; his through blood and hers through reincarnation. Whenever Toph would let her off for a break, Thuy would travel to the Fire Nation to see a show or visit a beach. It had gotten to a point where rumors were flying that Zuko was set to become her official master.

Such a practice had been abolished after what happened to Kyoshi.

It was wildly unusual - the Avatar’s master was always a Bender of their birth element - and this perceived power shift made people nervous. And if Zuko was a different person, Katara could understand the fear. But as he wasn’t a sinister person, the favoritism ended up saving him since he had no interest in political machinations.

Tonight was going to upend those rumors at her birthday party. She was planning on asking Zuko to become her firebending instructor and her official residence was going to be on the literal middle ground: Avatar Island in the United Republic.

Now, Thuy was upset that the garden where her party was being held wasn’t perfect.

Katara spent hours helping her adjust the landscape as much as she could. Toph wandered out for a moment and stood on the ground, watching them in the strange way she did. Finally, after a few frustrated minutes, Toph finally walked out and started doing the heavy lifting.

The Earthbender was terse, but funny. As Thuy kept pointing out things, Toph kept reminding her that she was blind. Thuy responded by stamping her feet and yelling “YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT.”

“Do it yourself then Wet Wipe.” Toph would retort and Katara couldn’t help but laugh.

By the time the landscaping was how Thuy wanted it and she went inside to get dressed, Katara was exhausted. She and Toph sat on the deck; Katara watched the palace staff bring out tables and chairs while Toph chewed on a piece of dried grass.

“She’s a good kid.” Toph said suddenly, flicking the grass onto the ground and rubbing it into the dirt with her heel.

“She really is.” Katara agreed.

“You gotta stop babying her if you’re going to be her master though.” Toph went on.

“Me? I’m not her master.” Katara said, looking at her in confusion.

“You sure? Who else is supposed to teach her to behave all upstanding and everything?”

“That’s usually someone who knew the previous Avatar. So, probably Tenzin.” Katara shook her head. “But Avatars don’t take a master any more.”

“I think Thuy’s gonna need it. Her parents were really smart, but the world’s changing. Borders are getting weird, loyalties are shifting.” Toph stood and kicked up a small mound of dirt. “I don’t think anyone in the swamp is going to understand it.”

“And I do?”

“I think you know a lot about shifting boundaries and making unusual loyalties.” Toph remarked and turned her head. Zuko exited the palace from further down, directing people with ladders.

Putting her foot down, Toph flattened the mound without touching it.

“The girl needs a master.” She added and walked back inside.

Letting her head loll back, Katara watched the clouds pass overhead. It was still light out, even as the day stretched on. It was almost summer again.

It was a very long time ago that she worked in Sokka’s flower shop.

“What are you thinking about?” Zuko asked as his face came into view. Katara smiled and raised her arms. Zuko moved himself so that she could put her arms around his neck. He lowered his head towards hers and she kissed him.

“Do you remember the first day you saw me in the flower shop?” She asked and released him. Zuko sat down beside her and looked up at the sky himself.

“Sure. You gawked at my scar.” He said and glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She sucked her teeth as he smirked.

“You gave me a snowmelt flower.” She said.

“Did I?”

“It’s my favorite flower.”

“Is it?”

“So how long have you known about me?” Katara questioned.

Zuko sat up and looked at her. Silent, he took her hands and held them in his lap.

“Sokka is really proud of you.” Zuko started, staring down at her hands. “And he would talk about you a lot. It almost felt like…”

He drifted with a light laugh before looking into her eyes. “Did you ever watch that stupid drama about a king in the Earth Kingdom and how he was tricked into marrying this lady?”

“You are going to have to smooth this over really fast Zuko.” Katara replied dryly. Zuko chuckled and lifted her hands up, kissing her knuckles.

“There’s a noble family that has gone bankrupt so they try to get their daughter married to the king. Her cousin works at the palace and talks her up to the king every day. He ends up falling in love with this hyped up mystery woman and proposes before ever meeting her.” Zuko explained.

“So Sokka talked about me so much, he tricked you into falling in love with me?” Katara asked.

“Well, not exactly. I did have a girlfriend at the time.” He said. “I just really started to like you as a person. You were a fighter, a survivor, and then you were accepted into medical school. All I ever did was sabotage my own country and serve tea.”

“Zuko, you are the strongest person I have ever met because when life kept handing you crap, you thought you deserved so you just took it.”

“You literally carry the bond of a spirit.”

“You survived what should have been a lethal burn to the face because of how connected you are to your bending.”

“You fought through three different countries trying to save your parents.”

“You fought your father and sister, who were trying to kill you, and didn’t want to hurt them.”

“I want to tell you you’re beautiful because of how much you love the rest of the world but I still get caught up in your eyes.”

“Well I can’t think about how much you love me because I’m terrified to admit I love you that much in return.”

They both stared at each other and, as if in a staring contest, Katara clenched her mouth shut. Still feeling the blood rise in her cheeks, she nonetheless saw Zuko’s face flush first.

He turned away, covering his face with his hands, and he was steaming. Katara laughed and put her hand on his back.

“Come on hun, we’ve got to get ready for the party.” She said. Zuko nodded and then rubbed his face vigorously. As he stood, he pulled Katara up.

“You are the worst.” He said. Katara patted his chest and smirked.

“Get used to it.”

The party went very well. The Earth King, having basically been a shut-in, related oddly well to the equally sheltered Avatar. Tenzin and the other head monks circulated through the crowd with varying degrees of success. Rohan had shaved their head for some reason, Jinora was there with her baby, and Ikki flitted about with her new husband. Meelo was sitting at a table looking forlorn, lamenting the imprisoned Azula.

Iroh had dragged the White Lotus members out and found some Fire Nation natives that were allies to sit as the Fire Nation contingent. But Katara could tell that Zuko felt alone, standing in his uncomfortable red robes and seeing so little reflected back.

There was a lot of blue. The majority of the party was actually split between green and blue; the people from Kyoshi Island jumping sides with the blue while the Swamp Tribe balanced things out in green.

All of Thuy’s planning, with Katara’s envisioning ability, turned the small garden into a meandering spot. Small hills forced people around and turned them as if they were walking through a labyrinth. It helped people talk for longer as the short distance around took more steps than first assumed.

Toph had also raised a small waterfall in the pond, using metalbending to create a vacuum system that would keep it going. Katara didn’t comment on the bending, unsure if she was supposed to know already or not. Internally, she panicked.

The effect, with the string fairy lights in the trees and softly tinkling water, was a softer place that glowed with ambient light. Around the tables stood the large torches to keep the cool spring nights at bay, but around the pond it was certainly twilight.

After the meal and with drinks being served - with Thuy trying, unsuccessfully, to get her hands on one - Zuko took Katara by the hand. They strolled around the grassy hillocks arm in arm and Katara was surprised by how quickly the noise dissipated.

“What are the customs for birthdays in your tribe?” Zuko asked suddenly. Katara turned away from the party and regarded the pond.

“There’s not a lot of ceremony that surrounds just us as humans. It’s more about celebrations of the world around us, or the spirits.” Katara replied, staring out over the water. “Things like birthdays and weddings aren’t usually very big.”

“There are rules to birthdays here.” Zuko blanched and Katara smiled to herself.

“It must be nice though, to have things like this.” She replied.

“The necklace is a North Pole custom, right? For engagements?” Zuko asked. Katara touched her neck and shrugged.

“So I’m told. But I don’t ever see me getting rid of it.” She replied.

“Modern conventions can sometimes be more fun than custom.” Zuko said.

“What does that mean?” Katara turned as she asked and found Zuko on a knee. “What.”

“We did talk about this.” He said, holding the box out.

“In theory!” Katara whispered sharply. Her throat tightened and tears stung her eyes, but she almost started to laugh. Zuko grinned up at her.

“I love you Katara. I thought up a lot of fancy words to say but right now I am so nervous and your face is so pretty.” He said as tears fell down his smiling face. Katara did laugh then, the choking laugh that comes with tears.

“I love you Zuko.” She murmured and put her fingers over her mouth.

“Will you marry me?” He asked.

Her throat sealed shut, Katara could only nod. As Zuko gasped and stood, she could see his hands shaking and she laughed again.

“Yes, of course.” She finally managed.

Zuko slid the ring on her finger and Katara jumped on him, kissing him deeply.

“WOO!” Thuy yelled and Katara laughed. They both had to wipe their faces as they walked back to the tables; everyone stood and clapped for them. Feeling the blood rush to her face, Katara put her face into Zuko’s shoulder.

“Congratulations, nephew.” Iroh said as he walked up.

“Thank you uncle.” Zuko replied.

“Let. Me. See. THE RING.” Sokka demanded and darted around Iroh. Katara still didn’t show her face but held out her hand.

“Moonstone? Spirits Zuko, you are so cheesy.” Sokka said.

“It’s what she wanted!” Zuko snapped defensively.

“Hey Katara.” Thuy said as she slid behind Zuko.

“I thought you were going to ask Zuko to be your instructor.” Katara hissed.

“Oh I did that last week. Tonight, I just announced that you’re going to be my master!” Thuy said.

“WHAT.” Katara squawked and jolted upright. All the blood drained too quickly from her face and as everything went dark, she fainted.

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#zutara #fanfiction #jax writes #modern au #zutara month 2020 #the fic that prompts built

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definitelynottony · 5 years ago

Text

“December knows me well”

[I actually finished this before midnight! So consider it a Christmas present. Just really wanted to do a short one shot of them like randomly meeting/one night stand kind of romance. Pretty happy with it actually. It’s soft~] [Ao3]

“Hi there, reservation for Harrington.”

“Just the one key?” The front desk attendant asked.

“Yup. Just the one."

"And you’ll be staying with us till the—”

“27th.”

“Okay. Are you aware that there’s a chance of a storm coming in tomorrow night?"

"No, didn’t hear about it.”

“Okay, if this is a Christmas trip though I need to inform you that we’re cancelling our holiday events. So if you’re here to meet with family or—”

“Nope. No family. Just here for some R&R."

"But won’t you—”

“Max! Will you just give the guy his damn room key!” A harsh voice called from a room behind the desk area.

“Right. Sorry, you’re all set Mr. Harrington. Cabin 235."

"Thank you.” Steve winced at her calling him Mr.Harrington. He was not his father. But he gathered his things from the nosy attendant, tried to see if he could whisper a thanks to the man in the back room for saving him from twenty questions. But he couldn’t see him.

“You can take the lifts to your cabin. They’re outside to the back. Oh, or you can wait for Billy-I mean Mr. Hargrove, he’ll be heading down to the camp area in a few. You can wait in front for him if you’d like!"

"Uh, yeah I’ll wait I guess. Thanks again.” The brunette, with his Louis Vuitton suitcase and his Ralph Lauren winter puff jacket, traipsed himself through the lobby. Back through the large gold lined glass doors, under the large chandelier in the entryway; and waited. This place was the Ritz, almost literally.

Hey, if Steve’s parents weren’t going to be home for Christmas then the least Steve could do was charge the most expensive ski trip he could find to his father’s card. Make up for last Christmas too while he was at it. And his birthday! And so the brunette who dripped in brand names he didn’t care about, except to revel in the fact that it pissed his father off when he’d check his bank statements; flew all the way to Colorado, from Indiana. First class, booked the most expensive hotel his google search generated; ‘Maygrove Lodge’.

Steve was born into a rich family that cared more about the money they made then him; he was spoiled, sure, but a brat by choice. Steve did have his own job though, paid for his own bills and food; but that job didn’t get his parent’s attention the way spending their money did. So he stood outside waiting for this Mr. Billy Hargrove to come around and drive him down to the cabins, hopefully help him with his bags too. It was a good ten minutes of shaky legs and winter winds, sure, it was a sunny day but still; thirty something degrees was still freezing. But finally the brunette saw the ski-cab driving around towards him.

“You waiting on a ride to the cabins?” Steve heard the voice before he got a good look at the man driving the cab. It was deep, rough, Steve wasn’t expecting it.

“Yeah."

"Need help with those bags?”

“Yeah."

Steve stood there, eyes plastered to the man trying to get a good look at his face; but he was wearing heavy sunglasses and a thick red plaid jacket. Sherpa lined, blue jeans, buckskin boots. It looked warmer then what Steve was wearing that’s for damn sure. He had nice hair though, short at the sides and long on top. Blonde, it matched the scruff on his face. Jesus, Steve came here thinking he was in for a week of rest but watching the blonde grin at him like that; he wasn’t interested in resting anymore. And the brunette watched as he packed Steve’s bags in the back of the ski-cab,

"Gettin’ in or what?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, thanks."

The blonde chortled a bit climbing into the cab. Steve slipped into the seat beside him,

"Man of many words?” He smirked at the brunette starting up the machine. Steve bit his lip around a smile, when was the last time he was this awkward? God he couldn’t remember the last time he had a crush on a guy. Maybe his first semester of college, before he dropped out?

The ride itself was fun, the cart could go pretty fast especially over the fresh fallen snow. Steve bounced around and laughed when they took the steep bends. The cabins were a few miles from the main lodge. They were private, cost a good extra chunk of money then the rooms available in the hotel. Money Steve was all too willing to spend.

“Hey, sorry if Max was givin’ you a hard time at check in. She’s almost like a little sister so I give her some slack, but sometimes gets a little too involved in the guests personal lives. Doesn’t understand boundaries."

"No it’s fine. I mean it is Christmas week, she wasn’t in the wrong. I’m just a weirdo that doesn’t spend it with family.” Steve laughed, quickly wishing he hadn’t just shared that information. “Thank you though, you were the guy in the back?”

“Heh, you and me both, and yeah I was. But seriously, if she gives ya any more trouble about it, just let me know. I’ll fire her nosy ass.” He laughed, Steve liked his laugh, it was…hot. The brunette shamelessly turned to look at the man driving, he really wanted to see what his eyes looked like. Wanted to just reach over and take the sunnies off of him. But that would be even worse than what he did end up doing,

“You can do that? Don’t you just work here too?"

And the blonde, Billy, turned his head as he slowed the cab down to a crawl; looked at the brunette with a small sideways smirk.

"I own this place, pretty boy.”

“Seriously! Shit, I’m so sorry… Mr. Hargrove?"

"Oh, god, Billy. It’s Billy, Mr. Hargrove is my father” the blonde grimaced.

Steve couldn’t help but laugh because he always acts the same way when people call him 'Mr. Harrington’.

“Wait, how old are you?” The brunette questioned,

“Twenty two."

"No way! You’re younger than me and own this whole place? How?"

"Ain’t no secret, just good business. So how old are you?"

”…Twenty three.“

"Really? Face like that thought you were still in high school.” The blonde pulled into a small cul-de-sac of log cabins. It was that hallmark movie kind of perfect looking. But Steve was currently more focused on whether Billy was flirting with him or just stating facts.

Yeah, okay, Steve has a baby face, peach fuzz for days but like the way the blonde said it…or maybe Steve was just cold and horny? And the brunette must have been staring something awful because the blonde took off those sunglasses; finally. And his eyes were blue, perfectly blue, and his eyelashes were thick; so much so they caste shadows. God, he was tan too! Was it fake? How is someone so tan in the winter? Then he smiled at Steve,

“We’re here."

Steve jerked his gaze away, embarrassingly so—

"Wow. It’s beautiful here."

"Thanks” The blonde huffed out a sigh “I need ta grab some firewood so I can’t help ya to your cabin. You all good?"

"Huh? Oh! Yeah, no I’m good. Thank you for the ride Billy."

"No problem pretty boy."

Steve glanced at the blonde again with a faint smile before sliding out of the cab; fumbling his luggage out of the back. Probably making way too many unnecessary sounds,

"Sure y'all good?"

"Yup. Totally… completely…” he huffed, pulling his suitcases up in front of the ski-cab “good."

Billy laughed again and nodded, hand tapping the steering wheel "alright. Call the front desk if you need anything."

"Will do."

"Hope you enjoy your stay."

"Planning on it!” The brunette shouted over the motor as the blonde was backing out. He was such a dork, but he was cute.

“Jesus! Why did I pack so much!” Steve whined as he dragged his suitcases up the cabin’s stairs. Of course cabin 235 had to be the one farthest from the pathway. But the brunette was actually surprised as he caught his breath and opened the door; it was decorated for the holidays. There was even a small tree hung with lights near the window. It was warm and cozy, looked more like someone’s home then a getaway spot.

There were fur blankets sprawled across the couch, food and alcohol stocked. Seriously some first class digs. If this is what seven hundred dollars a night buys you then Steve was considering extended stay options. God, even the bathroom was stocked with brand named shit! He really started to wonder if the last guest just forgot to pack their belongings when he went to the bedroom. The closet was full, which yeah, that’s pretty odd. But Steve has always been a 'live out of the suitcase’ kind of traveler anyways.

He scuffed his bags into the bedroom before exploring more of the cabin, it was a single level but had a small loft; the kind you have to climb a ladder to get to. There was a large flat screen that hung on the wall, a real wood burning fireplace sat under it. And a white fluffy rug in front of the fireplace. Steve really felt like he was in a Christmas movie, all he needed was some hot chocolate and… well, he wasn’t necessarily picky at the moment but that Billy guy would be pretty nice.

Guy like him probably isn’t even gay though, probably has women flocking over him, and he’s fuckin’ rich. Not ’my parents are rich’, but like it’s actually his money! Basically owns the whole damn mountain! That’s so hot. The guy is a real go getter, knows what he wanted in life; unlike Steve. Well Steve knows he wants hot cocoa and that guy in his bed, but besides that, no future plans.

So almost an hour later the brunette was perfectly stretched out over the leather, blankets donned couch. Tv on in the background playing some old Christmas movie he wasn’t paying attention to; hot chocolate in one hand, cell phone in the other. A real twenty first century king if I’ve ever seen one. He’s been flipping through Google, Twitter and Instagram for the last thirty minutes trying to find a Mr. Billy Hargrove; it’s like the guy doesn’t exist. Said for a few articles about the young entrepreneur.

Blessed with some very noteworthy pictures of the guy. “Jesus.” Steve murmured zooming in on one of the photos. His eyes were seriously blue, and he has freckles that the brunette didn’t notice before. “Shit” he sighed out a laugh, he had to laugh at himself. He just flew four hours to a luxury ski lodge just to jerk off to some guy. Given, said guy was gorgeous, but come on… not that he wasn’t going to do it later. But it was only five pm, he should probably like, eat dinner at the very least before retiring to bed.

The brunette hopped off the couch and huffed his way into the kitchen area, it was an open concept floor plan; and a modest size cabin, but still more effort than Steve wanted to give.

“So pasta or… oh my god, no shit, is that caviar? They stock these rooms with caviar! Wonder if they have lobster too!” Steve fanned as he dug into the fridge.

“Do I even like caviar?” He pondered as he opened up the can, he dipped his pinky finger into it like the gentleman he is. “Nope. Definitely do not like caviar. Good to know.” He shrugged it off putting it back. “Pasta it is."

And as the brunette made way with his food, dancing to whatever commercial song was on in the living room; a news banner interrupt it. Loud beeping followed by that annoying audio prompt. Something about a winter storm advisory.

Steve paid no mind to it, hell he’d pay someone to trap him inside his little winter wonderland. Let it snow, he thought, which prompted him to sing as he finished with his food. Pooling it all into a large bowl that he knows he’ll never be able to finish, but god damn he’s gonna try.

After more television, some wine he found in a cabinet and half a bowl of pasta later; the brunette was pretty satisfied with his first night. Five stars honestly.

It was dark out now, the Christmas tree looked really nice through his slightly buzzed vision. The wine must have been more expensive than what he was use to, or he just drank more than he thought. He pulled himself from the loveseat and made his way to the bedroom. Slinked out of his clothes; the sheets were a deep blue, soft, probably a high thread count. It was so fuckin’ comfortable! God, forget skiing, Steve was staying in this bed for the next five days!

Feather down comforter pulled up to his chin, he stretched out real good, felt real good; was about to feel even better too. As he slipped his hand under the blanket. As it slid down his body, as he turned his head pressing it down into his pillow. Jesus, even the pillows smell amazing. Like they sprayed them with cologne. Warm, musky, sweet; ”fuck…“ the brunette writhed under his own touch. Closed eyes picturing blue one staring back at him. "Mmhmm” Picturing thick fingers holding him, “shit…ah! God”, tan skin in the middle of fuckin’ December, warm against his. “Fuck.” Full red lips, with that scruff scraping against his thighs “Billy. Mmm-fuck. Billy."

Did Steve feel guilty about getting off to a guy he just met, that probably had a girlfriend?…Not as much as he felt guilty for dirtying such nice sheets. But all emotions said for euphoria left him as that climax high set in. And then he wiped his hand off on the sheet, turned over and slept. Slept until the sun blinded him through closed eyes, and the brunette shoved his face into the pillow; that pillow that smelt like sex felt. And he hushed out a sleepy moan as he breathed it in.

"Jesus. I need a boyfriend, or at least a damn hobby.” Messy hair fell into his face as he sat up, stretching arms over head. Desperately in need of a shower too. Didn’t even bother putting his boxers back on as he got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. The hot water helped his hangover, helped his erection too.

“Fuck, never wanna leave this place.” The brunette feverishly groaned out.

After he finished dressing he decided that even though it was apparently pushing one thirty pm, it was time for breakfast. Eggo’s seemed like the easiest solution for the brunette. And he settled back into his throne, news warning still at it with the winter storm advisory.

“Twenty four inches huh? Good. Bury me here!” He threatened the television around a mouthful of waffles.

Steve put his plate in the sink, leaned over it to look out the window that sat above it. It didn’t look like it was snowing yet, sky was grayish but not threateningly so. He should probably go get some skiing in, considering, but he didn’t really feel like it anymore. “Oh! It’s Billy!” Doe eyes all too excitedly widened, practically yelling; Steve leaned even more over the skin.

“Je-su-s” he moaned biting at his lip, the blonde was wielding an axe. Of course he actually cut the wood himself, he looked like the hottest lumberjack the brunette has ever seen. And considering it’s 2019 and lumberjacks are a dying breed, he is the hottest one Steve’s seen. He has a good pile going, the brunette considered whether he should bring him a drink or something. It would be the kind thing to do right? Totally not a come on, just neighborliness.

But then the brunette didn’t have to decide, 'cause the blonde lumberjack, with his large wood pile was heading for his cabin. Okay, seriously, if he cut all that wood just for Steve, so he’d stay warm; Steve wasn’t responsible for what happened next. The brunette faltered, almost falling as he rushed to the front door.

“Hey there!” He beamed as he opened it.

“Holy shit!” The blonde cursed, dropping some of the logs in surprise. “Jesus Christ, what are you doing here?” Billy asked sharply as he put the rest of the kindle down.

“Uh, this is my cabin. What are—”

“No, this is my cabin, first of all. Secondly, I meant what are you still doing here?” Billy closed in on the brunette, making Steve step back letting the blonde into the cabin.

“Oh, yeah no, I know you like own them but this is the one I’m staying in.” Steve chortled.

Billy leaned up against the counter looking at the other who was still lingering near the door.

“No, pretty boy, I mean this is my home, my cabin, I live here."

"Wait. Holy shit you’re serious?"

"Deadly…” Steve brushed his hair back with a hand as he thoughtfully bit on his lip, decreasing the space between them slowly.

“Sorry I didn’t know. Pretty sure this is the cabin she said though. I mean the key worked so."

"Who? Max gave you the keys for this cabin?"

"Yeah, redhead from the front desk."

"Damn shithead. She’s so fired!” Billy fumed.

“Hey! No, it’s no problem man. I’ll just get my stuff and get out of your hair."

"Yeah, ain’t gonna happen…”

“Steve. Names Steve."

"Ain’t gonna happen Stevie, I already shut the place down. There’s a blizzard on the way. Evacuated everyone this morning. Fuckin’ Max… goddamn it.” Billy rubbed his forehead thinking about what Max told him earlier before she left. 'Merry Christmas Billy. I put your present in your cabin!’ Holy shit she was a demon child.

“Wait so like, you and me are the only people here?"

"I’m speakin’ english ain’t I?” The blonde retorted,

“Oh… uh, I guess I could just leave?"

"Already told ya pretty boy, there’s a blizzard headin’ straight towards us. No way in hell i'mma let ya drive in it."

"Okay. Yeah, you’re probably right. Is it okay if I stay then?"

"Looks like there ain’t no choice, plus ya already made yourself comfortable.” Billy gestured to the opened wine bottle on the counter, smirking; Steve felt his face flush.

“Shit, I can’t believe I just raided your house.” He grimaced in embarrassment,

“You seriously couldn’t tell someone lived here?” Billy huffed out a breathy laugh, intrigued or entertained by the brunette’s sheer ignorance.

“I mean, just thought it was part of the package.” That earned Steve a full, heavy laugh from the blonde. Billy pushed himself off from the counter and turned heel towards the bedroom.

“Alright. I’m gonna change cause i’m frozen and then I guess I’ll get us a fire goin’.” The blonde decided.

“Okay.” Steve agreed, not that he had much of a say, it was Billy house afterall. His house, his bedroom, his bed…bed that Steve just masturbated in, to Billy’s scent. “Shit” the brunette scrunched his face up quickly following the blonde.

“Billy! Hey-uh…” And as Steve entered the doorway to the room, Billy was staring at his bed. Shit, he knew right. God he could probably smell it, Steve could smell it so Billy definitely smells it. Then the blonde growled, groaned, fuck, wait, was that good or bad? Steve wasn’t sure if the blonde even made the noise. But Billy turned his head to look at Steve, he probably looked like a kid caught red handed. But Billy just smirked, tongue between teeth,

“A guys has needs right.” That’s what he decided to combat this situation with. That and then proceeded to take off his clothes.

Oh fuck. Steve was pretty sure he just gasped. Shit, look away, look away, Jesus, he couldn’t.

Billy was like a God, his skin was so tan, his shoulders were wide and built with muscle. His arms just as strong, fuck; even has those veins running up them. Steve loved that shit. You can see every muscle on his stomach move and bend and stretch as he tugged his layers off.

“Mhmm” the brunette bit his lip, fuck, yeah that noise definitely just happened. Okay he seriously needs to leave.

“So, since it is my bed pretty boy, I have the right ta know, what got ya off?” Steve was a deer in headlights for a moment. How did he just ask they so nonchalantly. Like he was asking about the fuckin’ weather!

“Uh…” the brunette rubbed his head a bit, Billy glanced over to him with an arched brow.

“Well? Come on ya gotta give me somethin’ Stevie. Was it a porn? Was it—"

'Smell. It was the smell of the pillows.” Good God! Why did he just say that! Shit! You just blew it Steve, that was the creepiest thing you could have said. Why didn’t you just say yes to the porn!

“My pillows?” The blonde questioned, walking up to the top of his bed. He reached over and grabbed one, smelt it, smirked up at Steve,

“Smells like me."

Mayda! Mayday! We’re going down! Steve panicked,

"Didn’t know it was your bed.” He murmured under his shaky breath.

“Hey, Steve, it’s all good man. Didn’t know right?"

"Yeah”

“Did it feel good?"

"Yeah” shit! He responded without thinking! The blonde snickered and threw the pillow down onto the bed; grabbed a shirt from his closet. Thank god he didn’t have to change out of his jeans!

“How’s dinner sound? Maybe finish that bottle you started?"

"Fuck, yes please.” Steve sighed almost too relieved.

“Mmm. Might wanna keep that dirty talk to a minimum pretty boy, considering.” Billy teased, passing the brunette in the doorway.

“Sorry.” Steve mumbled as he followed the blonde out to the living room. Billy was already making fast with getting the fire going. On his hands and knees, the brunette stood a little behind him. Tilted his head and just stared,

“Hey!” Billy snapped, like he could feel Steve watching him, “why don’t you make yourself useful and pour me a drink."

"Yeah! yeah… sorry.” The brunette stepped to it, god he was so embarrassing! If he could only have put this much effort into school he’d probably be valedictorian.

“Fires goin’” the blonde stated, walking up behind Steve.

“Cool. Here” the brunette handed him his glass,

“Thanks.”

“Don’t look at his mouth, don’t look at his fuckin mouth Harrington!” Steve sang a mantra in his head while sipping his own glass. Literally looking everywhere but Billy.

“So, what sounds good fer dinner? It’s Christmas eve after all. Got some lobsters in the freezer "

"I knew it!” The brunette shouted, Billy leaned back a little, eyes curious; waiting for the punchline.

“Sorry. Just, last night I said I bet this place even has lobster cause the caviar."

"You ate my caviar too?”

“Fuck no! That stuff is gross!” Billy grinned amused,

“Yeah I know, that’s why it’s still in there. Was a gift from someone, forgot who."

"Some gift”,

“Tell me about it.” They laughed a bit, then they were kind of just standing there.

“So, uh, how did you really get into the hotel business?” Steve tried, the blonde smirked put his glass down on the counter and paced over to his fridge.

“It’s not much of a story really, not like what they write online."

"Don’t really read much anyways”,

“I uh, I ran away when I was younger. Originally from California, came here with a one way bus ticket. Only ticket I could afford, like it was fate or whatever; if ya believe in that kind of shit.” The blonde’s voice turned warmer as he continued his story. Now filling up a large pot with water,

“I somehow ended up here, on this mountain. It was just a little rickety ski shack back then, the old man that ran it took me in. Worked for him and eventually took over the place. Kind of built it from the ground up."

"Wow…that’s, you’re incredible."

"Heh. Yeah? Thanks Stevie. Hey grab those for me.” The blonde pointed his head over to the lobsters, Steve scrunched his nose, handed them over to Billy like a kid. Holding them out as far away from himself as possible.

The blonde shook his head as he grabbed them,

“They’re dead you know, won’t bite.” He teased.

“Still freaky seeing them with their eyes and everything… mind if I just wait in the living room?”

“Nope, make yourself at home. Gonna take a while to cook anyways."

"Okay.” Steve grabbed his glass, the bottle of wine and sauntered himself into the living room. The fire already warmed the whole place up, it smelt so nice, he wished he had a real fireplace back at home too. He sat down on the loveseat admiring the flames, barely noticed the blonde joining him.

“So what’s your story? I told ya mine, fair is fair.”

“Oh, mine ain’t much of a story actually. Just was blessed with some no show parents. They’re always bailing on me so decided to treat myself instead of mope this year."

"No girlfriend or—”

“Nope. Single like a pringle…you?"

"Nah, no family, no girl or boyfriend. Storm or not, I was gonna spend Christmas alone too."

"Well, glad I get to keep you some company then. We’re kind of in the same boat huh?"

"Sounds like it."

Billy smirked at the brunette, who was still caught on the 'no boyfriend’ thing.

Blatantly asking someone if they’re gay is rude right? Something he shouldn’t do. He smiled back to the blonde and decided to down his wine. Getting drunk didn’t really seem like a good idea but it definitely wasn’t the worst idea to Steve. He poured himself another glass and offered the bottle to Billy, who happily topped himself off. It was quiet for a while, said for the fire crackling and the wind outside picking up. It wasn’t really that late but it was already getting dark; probably from the storm. It was snowing like a shaker globe now.

"Should probably check the food.” The blonde stood up and made his way into the kitchen. Steve just watched, he honestly just felt so relaxed that he didn’t even feel like eating anymore. Between the warm fire and the wine, the smell that was radiating off of Billy; he was satiated without the food.

“Is it done?” The brunette called softly,

“Yeah, just about. I’ll get the plates, we can eat up here on the counter if you want."

"Whatever’s easier”

“Wanna grab my glass for me?”

“Yeah, sure.” Steve leaned over to pick up the blonde’s glass he put down, fuzzy Steve should definitely not be carrying three glass items at once but he thankfully made it into the kitchen; all of ten steps away, in one piece.

“Smells good!"

"Let’s hope it tastes good too.” Billy chortled, Steve took a seat on the bar stool as the blonde set out plates on the counter.

“So how’s it?” Billy asked sitting beside the brunette now.

“It’s good, better than a restaurant."

"That good huh?"

Steve nodded as he sucked butter off his fingers, it was the blonde that was staring now. The brunette didn’t notice as Billy licked his lips; quickly darting his head down to look at his plate. Lobster definitely wasn’t the sexiest food to eat, but somehow Steve was actually doing a pretty good job at it. Mostly due to the fact that he apparently didn’t believe in utensils. Just cracked the shell and slurped the meat from it.

Billy readjusted himself a few times on the stool, trying to ignore said noises and eat his damn food.

"Sounds like you’re havin’ a good time pretty boy.” The blonde attempted but after that last noise Steve just made, Billy couldn’t help himself.

The brunette swallowed and sighed out a nervous laugh,

“Sorry."

"No need ta apologize, glad you, really enjoyed it” he grinned. “Alright. I’m gonna go take a shower. You mind doin’ the dishes?"

"No problem” Steve smiled, stood up and collected their plates. Billy headed back into his bedroom, closed the door behind him.

“F-u-ck” the blonde groaned under his breath, pawing at the front of his jeans; he’s been fending off an erection for the past ten minutes. “Fuckin’ hell Max, what’s wrong with you?” Billy murmured as he pulled his phone from his back pocket.

“Thanks shithead. Merry Christmas” He texted her and threw his phone to the bed. Bit his lip for a second before rounding to the side Steve had—

“Mm goddamn.” He growled as he smelt the brunette dried spunk. Okay, in the blonde’s defense, it was his bed. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. Also he couldn’t remember the last time he had a good fuck; runnin’ a luxury lodge was his first priority. Steve was his type too. Max knew from the minute he walked into the place, she knows Billy too well. They really are like siblings, she was the original owner’s granddaughter; so they’ve known each other now for six years. But this is the first time she’s tried a stunt like this. First time that Billy isn’t going to give her hell for.

The blonde huffed out a tattered sigh, honestly tempted to lick the sheet; but he wasn’t that desperate. He’ll wait for the real thing. It was pretty obvious the brunette was into him, not unless Billy was just as narcissistic as people tell him he is. But, he was pretty sure Steve has been dropping hints since yesterday. Either way the blonde grabbed a change of clothes, opened his bedroom door again and made his way into the bathroom. Steve looked like he was just about finished at the sink. But Billy didn’t wait to linger. His jeans were too tight now, he started the shower up. striped off his shirt, shimmied out of his jeans, stroked himself a bit before getting in.

He groaned low under the water, panting as he worked himself. Thought about Stevie’s pretty mouth, how he sucked his fingers, how he’d look sucking on him. “huhh” he sneered, bit his lip trying to muffle himself, “mmm” he moaned. Stood under the hot water for a little while after before getting out. Somehow he felt even hungrier after the shower, hungry for the real thing now. Billy found the brunette sprawled out on the couch when he exited the bathroom.

“Comfy?"

"Mhmm.” Steve contentedly hummed,

“Room for two?"

"Mmhm” The brunette shifted a bit making room and Billy rejoined him.

“You smell good” Steve tittered,

“How much wine have you had?”

“Finished the bottle when you were in the shower and then I found your whiskey” he smiled.

"Did ya now, don’t believe in sharing?"

"Want some?” The brunette countered,

“Thought you finished it?"

"Got some left on my tongue."

…That made Billy groan, deep in his throat,

"Don’t think that’s a good idea pretty boy."

Steve sat up a bit, closer to the blonde,

"Why’s that?"

"Don’t think I could stop with just your tongue."

"Maybe I don’t want you to stop.”

“You serious 'bout this?” Billy asked firmly but his voice was heavy with want, when did their faces get so close? The blonde could smell the liquor that beggin’ mouth was dripping with.

“Deadly.” Steve smirked mimicking the blonde.

“God. You’re a real brat ain’t ya?"

"Spoiled brat.” Steve corrected.

Billy snarled diving into a kiss, mouth hot against the brunette’s. Tongue laved whatever remnants of alcohol were left in the other’s mouth. Steve sucked on the blonde’s lip as he caught his breath quickly, crashing back in; pushing Steve down onto his back. Drunk on lust, Billy tongue fucked the brunette till he was a moaning mess.

Steve’s hands tightly gripping to the blonde’s shoulders. Panting and writhing under Billy, rutting into the knee that was shoved between his legs. Billy’s growls and his warm hand under his chin sent shivers through Steve. But when the blonde pulled back to look at the mess that was Steve Harrington; when the blonde shoved his thumb into Steve’s mouth, when he tossed his head back and groaned as Steve suck it, that’s when the brunette whimpered.

“Fuckin’ hell Stevie, where you been all my life.” The blonde crooned in the brunette’s ear, earning another whimper from Steve.

“Billy,” he dug his fingers deeper, tugging at the blonde’s shirt.

“We got all night baby.” Billy lulled him, kissing his way down the brunette’s jaw; down his neck lapping at his collarbone.

“Want you now, wanna feel you.” The brunette whined,

Billy moaned “such a brat. I’m gonna take care of you, promise."

Steve melted under those words, under the blonde’s hot breath, under his lips, fingers like feathers touching his skin. Billy worked him slow, they weren’t goin’ nowhere in this weather; no one was coming here. To the blonde they were basically the only people left in the world. He was going to savor it, every whimper, every moan, every cry.

”Billy" Steve gasped, tugging at the blonde’s hair as he kissed and licked his way down the brunette’s body,

“Right here, ain’t goin anywhere."

If Billy’s mouth wasn’t exactly what Steve wanted than his words definitely were. It’s like he knows, knows that those words are what he needs to hear. That he’s terrified of how much he’s in love with this moment, terrified that it’s going to end and he’ll be alone again.

But Billy’s fingers clung onto Steve, like he was afraid of Steve leaving too. And he nuzzled into the brunette’s thighs like a thank you. And when his kiss swollen lips mouthed at Steve’s clothed dick the brunette actually thanked him. Breath shaky and barely there. But Billy just smirked up to those doey eyes. Ripped the brunette pants down to his knees, pulled them off completely. Settled back down, grazing Steve’s thighs with his stubble. The brunette shuttered, writhed with the sensation, practically sobbed when the blonde finally took him into his mouth.

Steve squeezed Billy’s hand, the hand that had fingers clinging hard to the brunette’s side. The blonde sucked, and licked, and bobbed his head until Steve was close to tears. Begging for more, to let him come, to let him feel Billy too. Billy moaned, eyes closed in complete bliss hearing how bad Steve wanted him. He swallowed the brunette’s spunk when he finally let him cum. Steve all to eagerly dragged him up for another jolting kiss, he groaned into Billy’s mouth as he lapped at the blonde’s tongue. Tasting himself, Billy growled, rutting his throbbing cock down onto the brunette.

"Fuck Stevie. So fuckin’ good baby. Can’t wait to see you riding this cock. Gonna look so good pretty boy."

"Billy! Fuck wanna ride you so bad."

"Get on the floor, right in front of the fire. Gotta go grab lube to grease you up."

So Steve did, he stretched himself over the fluffy white rug that sat in front of the fireplace. Billy came back as quickly as he left and dropped to his knees.

"God, you look like a fuckin’ king like that babe.” He crooned taking his shirt off, Steve reached his arms out and Billy met them with a bare chest. The brunette sat up, his mouth kissing and biting the suntanned skin. Billy made the best sounds as Steve bruised love bites all over him.

“Lay down, gotta open you up.” Billy pressed a slicked thumb against the brunette’s pink hole, rimmed around it, slicking it up real good. Steve left whimpering, sobbing Billy’s name on shaking breaths.

“Gotta relax pretty boy.” Billy leaned up to kiss him, licked over his lips as he pressed a finger into him.

“Mmm” Steve moaned against the blonde lips. “More."

And Billy obliged, slicking a second finger in as he slowly fucked the brunette, scissoring him open. "How you doin’ Stevie?"

"Fuckin’ perfect” Steve panted.

Billy grinned, tongue to teeth, “think you can handle another?"

"Do it.” Steve pushed his hips down giving the blonde a better angle as Billy pressed a third finger in. The brunette gasped, mouth agape,

“Fuck."

"Okay?”

“Yeah, just don’t move.”

“All you pretty boy”, Billy rubbed his other hand over the brunette’s thigh, Steve took a steep breath before he started to slowly move on Billy’s fingers.

“God, feels so good Billy” Steve huffed,

“You’re sucking me right in babe.” The blonde licked his lips with hunger.

Steve choked as Billy started to move again, faster, rougher.

“Ah fuck Billy! Oh fuck, fuck!"

"Gonna make you cum with just my fingers baby so when I get my dick in ya your gonna be putty. Gonna be such a beautiful mess for me."

"Fuck Billy, right there, yes! Just like that. Don’t stop. Fuck. Don’t stop!” And Billy kept pace until Steve was shooting out white ropes all over his pretty stomach. And the blonde moaned, slipped his fingers out of the brunette’s stretched bright red hole and licked his spunk off his belly. Finally getting a taste, fuckin’ hell, he was like water in a desert.

Steve’s eyes were threatening tears “Billy"

"Right here Stevie.” The blonde leaned up to look at the doey eyed brunette, he had the cutest fuckin’ smile. Completely blissed out. Billy was so hard in his jeans, needed it; been needing a guy like Steve for a long time.

Steve’s head jerked back, eyes closed tight, hands clinging to the carpet under him as Billy rammed his slicked up cock into him. The blonde panted heavy breaths as Steve was left whimpering. Bill, too impatient to go slow, he was completely taken over by sheer need.

“Oh fuck baby, feels so good inside you. Still so tight"

"God. Billy, harder, wanna feel you everywhere."

"Fuck” Billy growled gripping harder onto the brunette’s hips, thrusting deep, so deep into him. Skin against skin, clingy hands searching for something to grab onto, cries and growls and moans,tongue to lips; all of it was way better than any Christmas music they could have been playing.

“Swear you were made for this cock pretty boy, fits so perfectly.” The blonde moaned “gonna fill you up so good baby."

”Please. Feels so good Billy.“ Steve cried through hitched breaths,

"Jesus, you’re so fuckin sweet.” Billy arched down bringing Steve into a kiss, a soft, almost painful kiss. The kind that makes your toes curl and your heart burst. Then he was pulling him up, like the brunette was nothing more than a pillow. In one swift move the blonde sat back on his knees with Steve sitting on him. The brunette with arms around Billy neck for stability and Billy strong arms like steel straps caging him in.

“God! Fuck, I can feel you in my fuckin’ throat like this.” Steve panted as he started to grind his ass down deeper into the blonde; eliciting a feral growl from Billy. Sharp canines buried into Steve’s pale neck, bruising him up like putting a collar on him. He belonged to Billy now, even if it was just for the night.

“Come on baby, ride it like ya wanna break me” he groaned, hands fastened tight pushing and pulling Steve until the brunette caught the rhythm. “That’s it Stevie, fuck yourself on this cock. God, you feel so good, oh fuck! Hmm, yeah just like that. ah fuck baby.” Billy crooned and groaned urging the brunette on. Steve gripped to the blonde’s shoulders for leverage, pumping himself up and down; his leaking dick slapping against him with the violent motion.

“Billy! Fuck, fuck, oh God!” Steve whined as he fucked himself on the blonde, “Kiss me.” He demanded. And Billy did, wouldn’t dream of denying such a pretty mouth. He kissed him hard, the blonde snaked his had to the brunette nape keeping him there. Their mouths linked together, sharing one breath, Billy ate up every moan that escaped Steve. And the brunette came like that, flushed against the blonde, panting with his fingers tightly coiled in the short blonde curls. Billy didn’t last much longer after that with Steve slowly, deeply grinding on him, riding out his organism. The blonde stuttering his hips, filling the brunette with his heat. Hitched breaths were panted as their lips crashed together again, fighting for dominance.

“That was amazing” Steve laughed out something breathy, still reeling.

“Yeah, you really are Stevie.” Billy looked up at the brunette with a wide grin in appreciation. Steve matched his grin with a fervent smile; pushed the blonde down to the carpet, they wrestled childishly for a moment. Kisses were stolen quickly until the both laid quiet, Steve curled right beside Billy, his leg over the blonde’s and his hand drawing circles in his chest. And they cuddled, warm with the fire, silently enjoying each other.

“I do.” Steve whispered head nuzzling under the blondes chin.

“Do what?” Billy matched his tone.

“Earlier, when you were talking about fate, you said ‘if you believe in that sort of thing’. And I do believe in it.” He smiled, turning his head up to look at the blonde.

“You sayin’ this was fate, us meeting baby?"

That dopey smirk crawled back onto Steve’s face,

"Maybe. Is that stupid?"

"Jesus, Stevie, you really are sweet, gonna give me a cavity."

"Shut up.” The brunette giggled out shoving the blonde teasingly. “I’m serious though Billy."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"How serious?"

"Deadly”,

“Good, cause I’m pretty sure its gonna be just you and meet for the next few days up here. How’s that sound?"

"Like a dream. Like the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten."

Billy chuckled "pretty sure you are the best present I’ve ever gotten pretty boy."

Steve wiggled his way up to kiss the blonde, nosed his face against Billy’s scruff.

"Hey."

"Hi.” The blonde chortled,

“Can I love you?"

And Billy propped himself to his elbows, brows furrowed and eyes fixed on the brunette,

"You askin’ for permission or askin’ a question?"

"Permission. I mean just, just until they dig us outta here; till I have to leave. Can we pretend we’re in love."

"Don’t know if that’s a good idea."

"Why?”

“Don’t know if I can stop at just pretending.”

“Kiss me.” And the blonde did, couldn’t deny such a pretty mouth, pretty eyes; pretty face.

“I love you, Billy” he hushed,

“…love you too Stevie."

#I'M SO FUCKIN SOFT #just really wanted to do a fluffy one shot ski trip thing #but honestly I love this AU and might make a part two later #Lumberjack Billy for the win btw #merry christmas #Harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove au #billy hargrove #steve harrington #mywritings #harringrove fanfic #Harringrove fic

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19mrs-barnes17 · 5 years ago

Text

As Long As I Can Get - Chapter Four: Secrets Spill

Summary: A celebration has arrived and along with it some uncovered secrets that make tensions rise.

Part: 4/5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (AU)

Warnings: arguing, mentions of loss/suffering

Word count: 3,093

A/N: Thanks to @wxntersoldiers for beta reading! Enjoy a new chapter!

Her heart was racing in her chest. She couldn’t believe what her instincts were telling her to do. She couldn’t kiss him. Not when they had finally begun repairing their friendship, when she was already confused about how to operate within their friendship. No need for any further complication.

And yet she could feel herself leaning in, he was doing the same. Their lips were inches from one another and she was doing everything in her power to reign in the hormones pushing her closer.

Even worse was that she wasn’t at all trying to stop herself. Not even a little. She really wanted to close the gap but her fear prevented her from being the one to do it. Part of her hoped he had the courage because she was becoming desperate to know the taste of his kiss.

When he suddenly backed away her heart felt like a crack had run through it, but a small part of her was thankful for his restraint.

“I…” Bucky backed toward the door, panic evident in his features. He was afraid of ruining everything too.

“Buck-”

“I’ll see you at your party.” He was out the door before she could contradict him. She watched as he crossed the street, pausing to look up at her window before ducking into his home.

Well that was a major disaster.

Her focus began to intensify after that incident, working extra shifts and avoiding the diner for a few days. She couldn’t quite face his meddling sister after nearly kissing him and knowing full well it wouldn’t have ended there. Going through her daily motions kept her mind off of him and improved her productivity.

Steve helped her move all her things back into her room and took her camera to develop the photo for her. Though she was in an emotional mess she still wanted to have that photo, even if it ended up being the last.

When she received the pictures she bought two frames and wrapped one up before heading to the diner.

“Hey Mama Barnes, I’ve got a present for you.” Her eyes lit up as she grabbed a hold of the paper covered frame.

“Oh sweetheart you shouldn't have.” When she saw the photo inside the frame she became blubbery and covered her mouth as tears slipped down her cheeks.

“Aw, no. No tears.” Y/N chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around the woman who rested her head on Y/N’s shoulder.

It was in that moment she noticed that Bucky was sitting at the counter a few stools down, features softened as he gazed at his mother. His eyes became confused as he locked onto her eyes, almost conflicted. As if he had a billion thoughts and emotions rushing through him that he didn’t know how to handle.

“I hate to cut this short but I do have a shift to get to, just wanted to make sure you got that before I forgot.”

“Of course love, you take care now. We’ll see you Saturday for the party, but don’t be a stranger.” She gave her a hug before heading to the door.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Can’t stay away from the Winnifred Barnes’ cooking for too long or I’ll go through withdrawal.” Bucky smiled softly at this, her eyes lingering on him a moment before walking out.

He watched her make her way to her car, mind screaming at him for pulling away from her again. But fear always seemed to be the winning contender.

“I could smack you James Buchanan Barnes.” His mother stood across the counter giving him the sternest look he’d seen on her face in a long time.

“I know. It’s like I can’t win with her. Every time I get close something scares the hell out of me and I run away.” His voice catches in his throat as his eyes begin to tear up, his mother’s features soften.

“C’mon tell your mama about the girl you love.” At this his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“How did you know I was beginning to have feelings for her?” His mother chuckled softly before placing the picture before him and motioning to where his eyeline was focused.

“Because you have been looking at her like that for over a decade. And she had been doing the same.”

“What?”

“But that’s for her to explain, not me. Now Tell me what’s the matter with you?” His brow furrowed at her question, unsure how to proceed. “Why aren’t you chasing after her, kissing her, loving her freely?”

“Because I can’t risk letting her suffer like you did.”

“Are all these decorations and lights really necessary? Seems like a fire hazard.” Her mother nodded, eyes watching her father string up a banner along the loft.

“Well you try talking your father out of these things, see how far you get.” Y/N chuckled softly as her father lost his end of the banner and used some colorful language.

“Now that is a challenge.”

“Ah, James dear! It’s good to see you after so long. So glad you made it.” Her mother hugged him tightly before pointing over to where her father was on the ladder. “Would you mind helping him get that banner up? He’s making me nervous up there on that thing.”

“Sure thing. This is for you.” He handed a bag to Y/N before heading toward her father.

“How sweet.” Her mother smirked as her eyes flickered between the two. “I’m glad you two are repairing things, you had the strongest bond when you were younger.”

It wasn’t long before Steve showed up with a gift and the cake, and you chastised your dad for turning your friends into laborers. To which Bucky countered that his job was already hard labor and this was hardly it. Her dad smiled triumphantly at that and walked off to do a final check before everyone else arrived.

“Don’t amp up his ego please, the man already thinks he’s the king of parties. We don’t need him thinking he’s always right.” Her mother almost choked on her lemonade before erupting into a fit of laughter.

“Ouch, you may be daddy’s little girl but you definitely have your grandmother in you.” Y/N clutched her chest and gasped, eyes wide in shock.

“Oh you take that back.”

“She can’t take back what’s true.” Y/N threw one of her flats at Steve who ducked just in time and stuck out his tongue.

“You met her one time Rogers, we had years of experience.” Y/N almost fell out of her chair at the sight of her oldest brother.

“Nathan!” She had him in a hug within seconds, his laughter vibrating through his chest. “When did you get back?”

“Last night, I’m here for the party but then I’ve got to get driving to make it for a shift tomorrow.” She made a pout with her lips and he shoved her playfully. “Where did your shoe even go.”

“The ether. Or Steve stole it.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re holding it behind your chair.” Y/n gasped and Bucky narrowed his eyes at Steve before moving to stand and holding the shoe out of reach.

“What kind of friend are you?” Steve smirked and shrugged while Y/N jumped for her shoe and smack Bucky’s chest.

“The kind that stays it would seem.” Y/N slowly fell back onto her heels, Bucky handing her shoe over before walking toward the other end of the barn where people were beginning to congregate.

“Not cool dad.” Y/N stormed off after him and her brother shook his head.

“If you want her to still show up to Sunday night dinners then you probably shouldn’t ruin the most important relationship to her, on her birthday.” Nathan placed a hand on his dad’s shoulder before heading over to the gift table to drop off his present.

“Especially since you’re part of the reason it ended in the first place. No offense.” Steve made his way to Y/N’s mother and offered his assistance with whatever she needed.

Bucky was hidden amongst hay bales in a corner of the barn, too lost in thought to notice Y/N making her way to him through the hay until she tripped. She fell on top of him, smacking her face into his chest and very nearly kneeing him in the nethers.

“As graceful as ever.” She smacked his chest and propped herself up, eyes locking onto his. “And just as beautiful.”

“Are you ever gonna tell me why you keep running away?” Bucky sighed, brushing a strand of hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. “The real reason you cut me out?”

“Yes.” She was not expecting that answer and he noticed as much. “But not on your birthday, okay?”

“Then can we talk about how you won’t kiss me?” Her eyes couldn’t make contact as she spoke, but when she finished she locked eyes with him. He looked startled by the question and she instantly regretted asking it. She pushed herself off of him and sat on a hay bale, refusing to make eye contact as he stood up.

“It’s the same reason.”

“Can’t deal or too scared?” He froze as she met his gaze, and she swore she could see the pain hidden in his eyes.

“Terrified.”

The party was going by in a blur and her focus kept getting stolen by Bucky, she couldn’t help but wonder what had him so afraid that he couldn’t tell her. So terrified to keep her close that he pushed her away.

While he had stayed in the barn he still kept a bit of distance, hanging around his family once they had arrived. She felt crazy for still wanting him by her side, but she let him have his distance for now.

“Now I really am going to smack you child.” His mother was chastising him about running from facing his fears again. “It breaks my heart to see you so crippled by the fear that man instilled in you when he had no right to do so. You never should have had that on your conscience.”

“It’s too late to change the past ma, I’m just trying to at least keep her in my life to some degree.”

“You might want to try a little harder.”

“If I try any harder I’m going to fall completely in love with her and drag her down with me. And that’s just selfish.”

Bucky watched her greet every guest, pausing to grab people drinks, all around ensuring everyone was having a good time and taken care of. She wasn’t even trying to fill the role of host, nor was it entirely out of obligation since the party was for her. It was because being kind and taking care of others was in her nature, always had been and always would be.

Whereas his nature had become so different from his childhood and teenage suave that he hardly recognized himself. He was reserved and closed off, but sometimes this was a blessing in disguise. It let him do exactly what he was doing now, observing. It’s how he knew she was a perfect fit for their trio after her first day in school.

His mother watched as he began to walk off as the cake was being served, her heart heavy at the sight. A sad smile on her lips as she watched Y/N stop him before he made it to the door.

He froze in his tracks when he felt a hand grip, his heart racing when he realized whose it was. Her eyes watched him cautiously as he turned around with a surprised expression, a smile stretching across her face. He was dead certain that if she asked him to do anything he’d be unable to say no to her, he was entranced by her smile and the feeling of their intertwined fingers.

“Where are you going, Barnes? You owe a girl a dance.” She led him with zero resistance to the dance floor where couples had begun to sway along to the music.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands sat on her waist as they began to sway, his heart refusing to calm with how close she was moving to him. She moved his hands to the small of her back and he couldn’t seem to resist. Everything in him was screaming not to fall, not to be trapped by her presence. But he had no control.

The moment she shifted to rest her head on his chest he knew he was doomed, the content smile on her face putting a similar one on his as he held her. He was beginning to think dangerously. Beginning to wonder if it didn’t matter about time.

“Sorry about my dad earlier. I don’t know where that came from and it was out of line.” She tilted her head back to look into his eyes. “He’s been weird since he saw the picture in my room.”

“Your room?”

“Steve had free reign to put it up anywhere but the bathroom.” She chuckled and shook her head as her eyes found him in the room. “He saw it and seemed surprised and then worried. It was strange.”

The song ended and he led her out of the barn, nerves spiking as he put a little distance between them and the party.

“We need to talk.”

“I am slightly worried by your tone, but proceed.” He took a deep breath and looked her dead in the eye.

“I know I said I wouldn’t tell you on your birthday but I can’t hold it in any longer or I’m going to burst.” She nodded and he took her hands in his, hoping they gave him the courage he required. “The reason I began to push you out of my life is because I was afraid.”

“I know that.”

“But you don’t know why I was afraid. Am afraid.” Her features were beginning to be overtaken by worry, her head tilting to the side. “Not long after my father died, your dad came to talk to me outside the diner.”

“What?”

“He told me about the disease that killed my dad and how it was passed genetically.”

“Bucky…” Her voice was small and terrified, he cupped her cheek in his hand.

“It isn’t a guarantee, there is a 50/50 shot that I have inherited it and even then the symptoms don’t show until later. Most are diagnosed between the ages 30 to 50.” He wiped a tear from her cheek before continuing, “Your dad warned me to think about you, about the fact that it could be a possibility and should I stay in your life… you would have to watch me slowly wither away like we did with my dad. I remember watching him slowly lose every ability until he could hardly swallow and I thought I would rather lose you than put you through that.”

“What about Steve? And your family? They get to be held close and enjoy the time they have but I get cut short?” She took a step back wiping the tear streaks from her cheeks.

“That’s why I left entirely, to ease the pain.”

“But you came back and still let them all in, kept contact even if it was minimal.” He took a step toward her and she took another back.

“Because they’ve all lost people. They’ve handled it before. You… you were untouched, not losing anyone before their time. I wanted to save you some of the pain.”

“You broke my heart. How is that any better? At least losing you that way I would have still had you in my life and I could have said goodbye. The way you cut me off? I lost you but I also watched you live your life without me. And it hurt so bad to see that you could live without me and still be happy. I know that’s selfish, but so is deciding what I can handle without consulting me.”

“Y/N... “ He could feel the tear slip down his cheek but he didn’t care, his heart was tearing itself apart from guilt and heartbreak. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to put you in the position my mother was in.”

“What?”

“Remember what I said when you asked why I ran? Why I couldn’t let myself give in and kiss you?” This time when he took a step forward she stayed where she was. “I can’t let myself pull you in when it could end so horribly. I can’t put someone I love through that if I can help it.”

Bucky began to walk away but the sound of her voice halted him in his steps, the shake of her words like a cut.

“Did you ever stop to think that you had no control over that? I’d still be losing you, just from a distance.” She didn’t even wait to watch him walk away, there were only so many times she could stomach that.

Her dad stood in the doorway waiting with an expression dripping with guilt, but she simply walked past him. She understood why he did what he did, out of fear just like Bucky, but it would take time for her to forgive. Her brother helped her to pack the gifts into her car so that she didn’t have to linger any longer than she had to.

When everything shut down she hugged her brother goodbye and slid into the driver’s seat before pulling away from the most emotional birthday party she’s ever had.

And he never left her mind.

When he reached his townhouse her car was parked on the street but her lights were off, either she went to sleep or she went out on foot. Either way she wouldn’t want to talk to him after today, which had already caused him to debate leaving again. Seeing her around town would hurt like hell, but at least then he’d still see her.

After all he’d lost, the thought of losing her forever was just another weight he’d have to bear on his shoulders. He hardly slept that night, tossing and turning until he couldn’t take it any longer.

Only when his eyes found the North Star did he begin to relax, his father’s voice reminding that he wasn’t alone. Somehow he knew he could make it right.

He wasn’t going to leave her again.

Tags: @qtmeryr @broken-hearted-barnes @broken-hearted-barnes @asphalt-cocktail @cantnkrusshedevil @gstran18 @just-trying-to-survive-marvel

#marvel #justtryingtowrite #small town lovers au #james buchanan barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #writing challenge

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peter-pan-on-neverland · 5 years ago

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Master plan

Request: Felix has to go on a mission and pan wants y/n to go with him, so when Felix wants to go to tell her, he accidentally walks in when she changes into her night clothes and he is instantly turned on but also embarrassed. Of course Y/N will react shocked and pushes him out but afterwards both start to think about each other a lot and and things will get less akward bc they are alone. Maybe they start making out and Felix takes her against a tree.

Pairing: Felix x reader

Warning: suggestive

*I'm making two part of this*

Night fell on the small, magical island, dotting the dark navy blue sky with bright, twinkling stars. Once again the notorious Pan was tucked away in his wooden tree house, researching, plotting, trying to come up with a master plan in order to become immortal. The king of Neverland grinned from ear to ear as his eyes shrinked to the size of slits, he finally had an answer to the question he had been asking himself for so long, how to freeze the hour glass.

Tightly gripped in his hands was the ancient pages of the oldest book in all the realms, squiggly black writing stared back at him, giving him all the knowledge he needed. Discarding the "true loves kiss" part, that seemed to be written out neatly in every book he had read so far, there was an alternative, another way. The heart of the truest believer, a person with a soul as pure as gold and a mind full of imagination, that was what he needed. To Pan's surprise there was a tea stained page dangling helplessly from the spine of the old book, deciding to take the poor thing out of its misery the boy wrapped his fingers around it before giving a light tug. It fell out with ease, flipping it over to reveal what was on the other side. Evergreen eyes dance over the page, taking in the features of the dark haired boy that seemed to be scribbled on it.

Cogs slowly started to turn in the leaders head, the only thing on the page was a drawing and a date, 15.8.01. He racked his brain for answers, what did this mean? And that's when it all clicked, the boys birthday was neatly written out under his portrait, now Pan knew who he was looking for and when he was born, perfect.

"Felix!" Pans voiced boomed through camp as he came flying out of his tree house at the speed of light, scaring off any animal or creature that dared to step foot near his domain while he searched for his second in command.

Silently, Felix stalked over to his boss, clutching his wooden club between his rough hands. Stormy blue eyes met emerald green ones as the leaders blonde counterpart towered over his body like a sky scraper.

“There’s something I need you to do for me.” A menacing smirk crawled onto the Kings lips, meanwhile the second in command awaited to hear what news his friend had to tell him.

“What is it?” The lost boys quite, low voice inquired.

As Pan explained his idea to him a sinister grin started to form on Felix’s pink lips, his messy blonde hair whipped about in the refreshing wind as his listened with interest.

“There’s just one thing.” The leader trailed off, “Y/n will need to come with you, she is more experienced when it comes to realms with no magic.”

The golden glow that painted Felix’s sharp features hid his blush well at the sound of your name, he was surprised that just the thought of their one and only lost girl could make him feel butterfly's. For a while the boy had contemplated over and over again what it was he truly felt for you, was it just some stupid little crush that would leave as quickly as it came, or was it something more? As the days stretched into months the lost boy came to the conclusion that he, in fact, liked you, a lot.

But alas, Felix had a reputation to uphold, not just for Pan’s sake, but for your sake too. Pan had always told the boys that love is weakness, and they were not weak, if Hook caught wind of Felix’s little crush, you were sure to be in danger.

"I'll go and let her know." The lost boy spoke in his usual monotone voice before making his way over to your tree house.

Silently, he climbed the rickety ladder, banging his knuckles against the wooden door before wrapping his fingers around the door knob, the cold metal sending an uncomfortable shiver through Felix's hand as he pushed the wooden slab open.

"Hey Y/n, Pan wants-" He froze in place as his sharp features turned as white as paper.

There you were, beautiful as ever and the most exposed Felix had ever seen you. Your flesh was on display whilst his eyes wondered over your body, drinking up the sight of your collarbone, boobs, stomach, all the way down to your lacy panties that clung to you ass nicely.

The boy would be lying if he said he wasn't hard right now, imagining all the things he could do to you. Smirking to himself he imagined what you would look like beneath him, the way you would cry out in pleasure because of his actions. Shaking his head, the lost boy snapped out of his trance, those thoughts were stored in the back of his mind, for now.

The lonely candle in the corner of the room illuminated your tiny cabin, casting everything in a burnt orange glow as it painted your skin. Your red cheeks had not been covered up by the candle light, instead the soft honey colour seemed to make your brick dusted face pop.

Desperately, you fumbled around the room, rushing to pick up the daisy coloured night gown which had fallen on the floor the minute the blonde, lost boy barged in.

"S-sorry! I-I didn't-" Felix tried his absolute hardest to tear his icy eyes away from your wonderful body, forcing himself to look away, yet somehow he always found his eyes floating back to you as you impatiently threw the dress on your exposed flesh.

"You can look now." Your quiet voice soured through the air before tunneling into his ears.

Turning to face you he couldn't help but picture what you looked like just mere seconds before.

Awkwardly shuffling, your eyes were glued to your feet, too embarrassed to meet the boys gaze, meanwhile he was struggling to keep his off you, as your finger nails trailed up and down your arm.

"So, anyways" Felix let out an awkward cough, "As I was saying, Pan wants you to come on a mission with me."

Your e/c eyes widened in shock at his words, your head snapped up meeting the second in commands gaze as if you were challenging him.

"He-he wants me to come with you?" You asked, almost sounding afraid, but Felix couldn't quite understand why.

"Um, yeah." He shrugged simply, "were leaving tomorrow, so pack up everything you need."

With that the second in command swiftly exited your humble abode, rushing out of the door before closing it quietly behind him.

Lurking in the dark part of Felix's mind the sound of your moans filled his ears, he wanted you so bad, but he couldn't have you. Suddenly he found himself becoming more and more excited for this trip of yours.

Morning came quicker than you would've liked, all night you had been shamefully pleasing yourself after that little run in with Pan's most trusted lost boy, which had left you all hot and bothered. The though of facing him made your stomach churn guilt-fully, was it wrong to think if him like that? You had been friends for years and you had came to terms with the fact that you liked him, but you had never done anything like that before.

"All packed to go?" Pan's haunting voice popped up out of no where, causing you to jump out of your skin.

Silently, you nodded as his best friend came into view, your once normal cheeks flashed red. The pair exchanged some parting words while the leader placed a forest green jelly bean into Felix's hand, your eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"Its a magic bean." The two boy's laughed at your reaction, what do we need a magic bean for?

Without saying a word the lost boy dropped it on the floor, the ground started to swirl, all kinds of wonderful colours blended together as the wind violently whipped around us. Howling filled your ears as your hair was permanently stuck in front of your face.

"You ready?" The tall boy checked and you nodded in reply before jumping in.

Everything went black, you couldn't feel anything as your soul was plunged into darkness before your e/c eyes opened once again. You brain pounded against your skull, the sound of zooming cars filled you ears as your eyes snapped open, taking in your surroundings.

"Are we?" You asked the tall blonde boy who sat beside you.

"In your world, yes." He confirmed your suspicions.

"Pan has some... friends here, they can help us." A sinister tone masked his voice on the word 'friends' as you begin to grow worried, who exactly were these people?

With a screech of tires and an array of smoke, a cherry red convertible car halted before the tow of you, the harsh beam of the headlights made your head spin as your eyes adjusted to the light . Unfamiliar characters sat in the front seats, the taller of the two was driving. His glasses sat on his slightly crooked nose while his bronze coloured hair swooped across his chocolate eyes. The other was shorter, his brown eyes stared into your e/c ones intently as his short, dark brown hair whipped around in the air.

Without opening his tightly shut mouth, Felix climbed into the car, you awkwardly followed his lead, still not entirely sure why you were here.

Revving filled the air as you spun off down the road, instinctively holding onto the blonde boy next to you. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped onto him for dear life, if it weren't for the wind forcing his hair in his face you would've seen the light pink tint on his cheeks as your hand found his.

The feeling of your skin on his causing the boys to have a whirl wind of emotions. The only thought that consumed his mind was you, the way you looked when he had accidentally walked in your cabin without a second thought, and oh boy is Felix glad he made that mistake. All night and all day you were you were the only thing that played on his mind, it was no lie that the lost boy found you attractive, that much was evident from his boner, which he was unaware was sticking through his trousers, but his feelings for you went a little deeper than that. Yes, he wanted to touch and please you like no one else had done before, he wanted to tie you down and make you scream but he also wanted to make you smile and hear you melodic laugh. You didn't know it yet and Felix didn't know it ether, but you are each others worlds.

Thankfully that car ride was short and sweet, coming to a stop rather quickly as a grand house came into view. The Victorian styled building looked like it was a relic frozen in time, lush green vines scaled up the red bricked walls while white, laced trimming clung to the roof. Golden lights were switched on in almost every room, making the house feel like one gigantic doll house to play with until your hearts content.

The strange men stepped out of the car, not saying a word as their keys clicked together before opening the old door. Although the exterior of the house was looked ancient the interior was modern and sleek, not fitting in with the ear of the house at all.

"I'll take you to your room." The taller ones deep voice bounced off the walls.

"Room?" You inquired, suddenly you felt your face grow hot at the idea of shearing a room with the second in command, especially after last night.

Swiftly turning around on his heel the strangers honey coloured eyes sought out your e/c one, "Yes, room." He confirmed before rushing off up the stairs, you and Felix trying you best to keep up with the fast moving boy.

By the time the two of you traveled up to the top at such a fast pace you were out of breath, lightly panting as the wooden door of your room creaked open.

The room was small, but lovely, a large white window sat on the right hand wall, allowing the street light to flood into the room. A double bed sat along the back wall, little side table standing ether side of it while a large oak wood wardrobe was sat in the corner of the room. With a flick of a switch the room became flooded with soft honey coloured light, comfortably reminding you of your candles back in Neverland.

“I’ll leave you two it.” The tall man spoke, his monotone voice lingered in the air as he walked away, leaving you and Felix alone in the little room.

“I...I guess we should get some sleep.” The boy stated, his hot breath traveled down your neck, tickling the hairs as they stood tall and proud.

You found yourself speechless, no words managed to fall past your lips, slowly you raised your head, peering into the boys eyes before giving a slight nod.

His footstep echoed through the room as he went to close the curtains, but you found yourself stuck in place, unable to move but not sure why. e/c orbs were glued to Felix, the way he moved around the room before turning his back on you whilst he undid his cloak, letting it fall to the floor. Pink dust coated your cheeks as you watched him, but you still weren’t able to look away. Neck, he lifted his arms high above is head in an act to remove this shirt, his muscly back was slowly revealed to you as though his shirt there the curtain at a theater.

“It’s rude to stare.” The lost boy joked, while you jumped back, surprised, embarrassed and shocked, how did he know?

Turning to face you, you couldn’t keep your eyes off his bare chest no matter how hard you tried, “S-sorry, I... I didn’t mean-”

The second in command smiled to himself as you stumbled over your words, oh how the tables have turned, he thought.

“Relax.” He spoke, placing a hand on your shoulder, the slight contact made you melt under his touch whilst your body instantly relaxed, “Let’s just get some sleep.”

Still as hot as you had ever been you found yourself climbing into bed with the second in command before he turned out the lights, wrapping yourself up in the warm covers as if to make a mini barrier from him, but you would be a fool if you though that was going to stop him.

The feeling of his skin touching yours as he lay down lit a fire inside you, the blush on your cheeks got worse and worse as time went by.

“I need some covers too you know.” Felix chuckled.

Not a single word tumbled past your lips, not a single one, as you slyly moved over to the other side, allowing him access to the quilt. You didn’t realize how much room he had taken up until you felt his chest flush up against your back.

Turning around in the covers your eyes sought out his, peering deep into them. No words were exchanged as you looked into each others eyes, you felt his hand on your chin, bringing your face closer and closer to his.

You were stuck in a trance, a blissful daze as his lips met yours and you found yourself kissing back, you had wanted this for so long and so did he. You seemed to get lost in the kiss, not being able to pull yourself away.

In one smooth motion the second in command bought you on top of him, all the while never breaking the kiss that the two of you shared. The rest of the night was spent with the two of you between the sheets, clothes long since forgotten as you got lost in each others bodies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I got it up! I'm sorry if you dont think it's as good as my stories usually are, the ending was a little rushed (sorry)!

I hope you enjoyed it! 🥰❤😍 xxxxx

@nevereverlandboys @lady-of-lies @lonesome-loser @celestial-neverland

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dexmxtchxll · 5 years ago

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the roof.

Part One: IT’S FINE HONEY, I’LL BE OUTSIDE. things hadn’t been the same for dexter since his father died. he had become a shell of himself, finding only whiskey and blow enjoyable; one of which he had to strategically hide from his wife and the merry band of strangers practically living in his house. he had no issues with laurel having friends. dexter hadn’t exactly been enjoyable to be around lately and they were a good distraction for her. he hadn’t been one to go out of his way to introduce himself or have a heart-to-heart. but as always, there were two sides to every coin. laurel’s younger friends in his house much of the time meant less time for him to be alone or with his family, driving him out of his house and to the bar or to plan b or to find one of scotty’s minions selling cocaine to him for an up-charged price. he’d been working too, but just barely. she called them her children and he hated it because they were not his family. they were visitors filling the kitchen and eating his food, playing with his child, lounged up on his couch. most of the time when he was forced to come home, it felt like a death sentence. who’d be there when all he wanted was the solace of his home? who’d leave something out of place or make him cringe while calling laurel ‘mom’. was she really dayton’s mother theresa? who was dexter to her? some nights he just fell asleep up in the loft, slipping into the main house to grab fresh clothes as soon as laurel left. he needed his space to grieve and he needed to lean on the shoulders of his family but his family hated him almost more than he hated himself. laurel probably hated him too. the mitchell farmhouse had turned into his prison.

busywork seemed to keep his mind from less than happy thoughts. again, there had been visitors in his farmhouse, laurel’s laugh ringing through open windows and he needed to keep his hands busy. she was a completely different person with the people of this town. half the time, while drunk and pissy, he was convinced she could be fucking one of them. he sure as shit wasn’t getting laid. finally he had gotten up the shutters a couple weeks ago, a nice deep green color popping beautifully against the fresh white paint of their home. there had been some cool, fresh bar opening laurel went to and instead dexter lined up some blow and got the project done in three hours. the yard had been freshly cut, the back patio pressure washed, a squeaky screw tightened on felicity’s swing set that afternoon. there were two options now to avoid the main living space where laurel’s guests chatted away. go to the bar or tick another thing off his list. going to the bar meant having to go inside to change and retrieve his keys. so up to the roof he went.

initially, it had been to clean the gutters. work boots helped against the shingles, but really it had been practice that helped his balance. how many times had he scaled things for mitchell contracting? he scaled to the top and sat down with his forearms resting on his knees. a mitchell king of his shitty kingdom. from up there he could see the whole front of the property: front patches of grass perfectly manicured and the quintessential white picket fence sparkling from last weeks cleaning. the weather had proven to be perfect the past couple of weeks to work on his hunny-do list, though he was sure that laurel was too preoccupied to even notice. not that it really bothered him; peace and quiet was his only wish these days. and he knew he needed to get off his high horse eventually. bitterness was driving a heavy wedge between laur and him. up there, on the roof he had it really laid out for him: hedges, flowers, the steps leading up to the wrap around porch, a couple of cars in the drive way that dex couldn’t pin point the owners of if a gun was to his head. did it belong to the guy donning fishnets or the short blonde that pretended she wasn’t in the way all the time? for a moment, dexter really took in the scene, a breeze calming and serene. he was proud of this. his home that he had put literal blood sweat and tears into. he was proud of his toddler and her fierce attitude and striking beauty. he was proud of his business and how far he had come. he was proud that even in this dark time, he was managing. because that’s all he could do really - just manage the pain.

but it was all a facade wasn’t it? something shiny and pleasing to adore. the outside looked so nice, didn’t it? the kitchen? a dream. better homes and gardens had been his prime, mitchell contracting becoming just as admirable as any hgtv reality duo. dexter had left the farm in alabama - left his legacy - for something different. something that he could define as his own. he had met laurel and thought that he’d have the love of a lifetime. while their love crumbled, dexter built up an image. all this time, he had been just like his dad, huh? his mouth became dry, the realizations sobering him up enough to realize he had been thirsty.

Part Two: I’LL SEE YOU IN HELL, DAD at first he thought that it was just because he had been drinking beer most of the day, a bit of dizziness hitting him while sitting in the sun. dexter closed his eyes and tried to breathe out, adjusting his ball cap and taking off his sunglasses. he had been on the roof of shit a couple dozen times while smashed, he could get down just fine. eyelids opened and the sun seemed brighter than before, his chest starting to tighten. sunglasses hastily were set next to him on the roof but they tumbled over the side, dexter able to hear the crunch of them hitting the pavement. mouth dry, as if he hadn’t ever drank a drop of water in his life and dexter’s only thought was getting down that ladder and probably drink out of the garden hose attached to the garage. he thought about calling out to the two guys practically skipping down the sidewalk hand in hand but his voice broke, only a gasp for air making a sound.

dexter stood, but as soon as he did his chest tightened as if someone had gripped him and twisted his lungs and muscles and heart. he couldn’t breathe, chest cavity screaming for relief and his left arm burning in pain. one step, just one step. all he needed was to get off this roof.

and he took that step, his boot slipping and dexter mitchell lost his footing completely.

he swore he could hear laurel’s laughter as whimsical as the wind; a flash of how her brightness lit up his crooked heart before all of the hardship. before she put those divorce papers in front of him. that’s what it had done, hadn’t it? ruined him completely. there was no turning back. he had been too angry, he’d never forgive it. he swore he could see felicity’s eyes and feel the warmth of her small toddler frame nestled in the crook of his arm. for a minute there dexter had thought that she could have saved their marriage. that laurel and dex would do it for her. he saw all the good parts of laurel in felicity. without the jaded sadness anchoring her down. no damage to be repaired yet, liss loved with her whole soul. the best parts of him too, the stubbornness and courage. he could feel his mother’s love. before he had disgraced her heart too. before they had turned cold and abandoned each other. it had gone so fast that it almost felt like he had landed on his feet. but in reality, dexter theodore mitchell had a heart attack and slipped from the roof of his farmhouse, his boot getting caught on a shingle that needed repair. he had ate shit against that gutter he was about to clean out, smacking his shoulder and falling off the roof. the big front windows had been open and anyone in the house could have heard the slap of his skull hitting the pavement, right in front of the porch steps. there hadn’t been any laughter, no lissy hugs. there hadn’t been any resolution in his marriage, the past year a total fucking waste. there hadn’t even been pain. just darkness. infinite and final while his blood seeped from his cracked skull, staining the mitchell property for the rest of time.

fin

RIP DEXTER MITCHELL 1989-2020

the final will and testament of dexter theodore mitchell: all personal property is to be given to felicity lennon mitchell. all wealth shall be placed in a trust for her to obtain on her eighteenth birthday. personal property such as vehicles and the farmhouse will be moved into felicity’s name on that date as well. mitchell construction will be dissolved into an interest baring trust for felicity’s college funds. laurel mitchell may hold the trust and the deed to the farmhouse until felicity’s eighteenth birthday. on that date, a sum of fifty thousand will be allotted to laurel mitchell as payment.

#self para #howdy partner!#tw: drug mention #tw: heights #tw: medical #tw: death

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purplesurveys · 5 years ago

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801

1. Candyland: What is your favorite type of candy? Gummies. I’m not really into chocolate or caramel candies. 2. Chutes & Ladders: Do you have a fear of going up on ladders? Does your house have a laundry chute somewhere? I’ve never had to climb up a ladder but I do think I could just as well have a fear of it since as a kindergartener I was always afraid of going up the jungle gyms. I don’t know what a laundry chute is. 3. Operation: How many surgeries have you had in your lifetime? Zero, thank goodness. The idea of having to be put under and then being sliced open makes me feel faint lmao. 4. Sorry!: Do you sometimes apologize, even when it’s not your fault? Yes, abusive people can make you pick it up as a habit. 5. Game of Life: What is your greatest accomplishment thus far? What do you hope to do with the rest of your life? I count getting into my university as my biggest accomplishment so far, but I know I can still do so much more. I don’t really have a specific career goal, but I do want to ultimately be the best at whatever job I end up in and to be the happy with whoever I end up becoming.

6. Cootie: Did you really used to think that boys/girls had cooties? No...I never heard of those until I was ten watching American cartoons. 7. Trouble: What is something big that you got into a lot of trouble for? My algebra grades in high school. I almost flunked freshman algeb and nearly had to go to summer school. Math was never my strong suit in those days, heh. 8. Puzzles: When was the last time you felt puzzled/confused? How often do you feel like you don’t fit in? The other day while making Gab’s surprise birthday video. I had never made a video before, so the program itself was very foreign to me and at first I doubted I could ever come up with anything. Luckily my sister, who is in film school, was such a big help in helping me get acquainted with the different features and buttons haha. As for feeling like I don’t fit in, I haven’t really felt that a lot in the last couple of years. Other than my experience with AIESEC, I’ve been a lot better in dealing with different groups of people and adjusting to their interests and personalities. 9. Hungry Hungry Hippos: What’s your favorite meal to eat? A nice juicy burger usually works for me. 10. Uno: Can you count to ten in another language? If so, which language? Filipino, Spanish, and Korean. 11. Go Fish!: Have you ever been fishing before? No. I've always lived in the city so I’ve never been exposed to fishing. It’s very common for those living in the province, though. 12. Old Maid: Did you ever have a maid in your house, growing up? We had house help for a short time when we first moved into our house. But because my mom is super organized and very particular about it, we went through like 15 house help in total before she realized she’d rather do everything herself. There were three who stayed longer than a few months because my mom found them very good, but they all wanted to go back to the province eventually so we had to give them up. Most stayed for like a day or two, a week at most. 13. Simon Says: Did you always do everything you were told as a child? I think so, yeah. 14. Red Light, Green Light: When you approach a yellow light, are you more likely to slow down or speed up? Depends if I’m in a hurry or not. 15. Are you any good at jump rope, hopscotch, or hula hooping? Have you ever used a pogo stick before? I can do the first three. I’ve never used a pogo stick and have only seen it in cartoons. Looks fun but I also know I’d break my bones using them lol. 16. Do you prefer chalk or bubbles? Two very different things, but I remember loving bubbles as a kid. My only encounter with chalk was when we’d draw a hopscotch court on the ground, so yeah not a lot of interaction with it. 17. Did you used to go on a lot of bike rides as a child? Not really. My lola always told us we couldn’t go too far away from home, so I followed her. 18. Capture the Flag: What is your country’s flag? What about your state’s flag, if you have one? The Philippine flag has a white triangle at the left side with three stars symbolizing our three main islands, and a sun with its eight rays symbolizing the eight provinces that had big contributions in the 1896 revolution against Spain. On the right, the flag is divided into blue on top symbolizing peace, and red symbolizing patriotism. The two colors can be switched depending if the country’s at war. 19. Tic Tac Toe: When you played, were you the “hugs” or the “kisses”? I dunno, I picked whatever symbol I felt like picking if someone would ask me to play. 20. Have you ever won a game of Marco Polo in the pool without cheating? I’ve never played Marco Polo because I don’t know how the game works. Not very common here. 21. Scrabble: Are you any good at spelling? Yes. I was That student who aced all the spelling quizzes in English class lol. 22. While playing rock, paper, scissors, which do you usually throw down first? I always mix it up. 23. Were you always stuck being the pickle in the middle? I don’t know what this means. 24. Limbo: How low can you go? We never really played this. 25. When playing, did you usually pick “Truth” or “Dare”? Truth, because I have no problem telling it and people usually pick pretty shitty dares for you to do. 26. Have you been involved in any innocent games of Spin the Bottle or 7 Minutes in Heaven? No. Not common games here. I didn’t even know about 7 Minutes in Heaven until I watched 13 Going on 30 when I was like, 14 lolol. 27. Twister: Are you a flexible person (figuratively or literally)? I’m not very physically flexible. I can adjust for a lot of situations, though. 28. Did you used to pretend that the floor was lava? Kinda? In my old school there was a line pattern on the school grounds, and when I would walk I’d try not to hit any of the lines. 29. Guess Who: Are you any good at guessing games? Sure. 30. Clue: Do you think that you would be able to successfully solve a murder case? No, I don’t really like brainteasers like those. 31. Mouse Trap: Have you ever felt trapped before, in some way? Of course, in various ways. I’ve felt trapped at home, in my course, in my own head, etc. 32. Labyrinth: Have you ever gotten lost in a maze? No, that sounds terrifying and just reminds me of The Shining, eugh. 33. Jenga: Are you careful about what choices you make in life? I try to not be reckless, at least. 34. Bop it or Skip-it? Neither. 35. Tag: Are you in shape? Do you enjoy running? I wouldn’t say I am, but my body is also not in an unhealthy shape. I hate running. 36. Kickball: Did you kick the ball over the fence a lot as a kid? No. Houses here don’t really have fences. 37. Are you any good at mini-golf? No, never played. 38. Telephone: What do you do with a rumor once it’s been told to you? I didn’t really get a lot of rumors about me. The one time I did, it was so stupid I told our head teacher about it to put it to rest immediately. 39. Hide and Seek: Have you ever hid so well that it felt like it took somebody forever to find you? What was your best hiding spot? No. I don’t like making people nervous for too long. I didn’t have a hiding spot. 40. What Time Is It, Mr. Fox?: When were you old enough to tell time on an analog clock as opposed to a digital one? Hahahaha I don’t actually remember. I wanna say 8 years old? 41. Mother May I: Did you always ask your parents for permission? Yes. Always better for them to know what I’m up to than sneaking out and being caught. 42. Follow the Leader: Can you be bossy at times? I can be bossy all the time. 43. Monopoly: Are you good with your money/finances? If I absolutely have to save, like if Christmas is coming up, I’ll surprise myself at how good I can be. Most of the time though I like treating myself :/ Lmao. 44. Chess: Have you ever wanted to be king/queen? Only when I was younger. I’d wear a blanket around and pretend it was a cape. 45. Play-doh or Slime? Ooh that’s a toughie, those are my favorite kinds of toys. I did grow up with Play-Doh though and even had a Play-Doh Factory, so I’d go with that. [a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

#survey #surveys

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nekoabiwrites · 6 years ago

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Of Princes and Potions - Chapter 2

Here comes the Logince. I hope you’re ready (and that my Roman is good, I’m not a flirty person. A few people helped me out with it <3)

AU: Royal Fantasy Pairing: Logince Words: 4009 Warnings: None I can think of.

Summary: Combative gays are being combative as Logan and Roman cross paths.

Breakfast was brought to the royals, who were happily enjoying their time together. Thomas was excitedly chattering away to his father, while Patton indulged the young boy by asking for more and more details about what he was talking about. On the other side, Roman was sat quietly listening as he had little to converse about or add to his little brother’s ramblings.

It was only once Thomas had started to eat that he quietened significantly, allowing the older two of the Sanders family to talk.

“So, Roman, how is your training going?” Patton asked casually, turning his attention to his eldest. Roman proudly answered his father’s question as if he were weaving a tale, clearly over emphasising certain elements. Patton inwardly chuckled at the thought.

“And Sir Virgil seemed highly impressed by my quick reactions to the other guards. So much so that he invited me to spar with some of the new recruits later today.” Roman preened slightly as he told Patton about the invitation.

Patton grinned and clasped his hands together, “That’s wonderful, son. I’m so proud of the work you’ve put into all your training!” There was a lull in the conversation as each of the family finished their meals. It was then that Patton cautiously brought up a topic, “Say, son… Your birthday is coming soon, isn’t it?”

The crown prince ran a hand through his hair, a proud expression taking over his face, “Of course it is, father. I shall be turning the perfect age of 21, though I am sure you were aware of that.”

Patton chuckled, “Of course, Roman, I knew that. I just wanted to ask what you would like for a celebration. You know tha-” The king was unable to finish his sentence as his eldest son cut across him.

“I know that I am already going to have a large, grand ball because that is the tradition for when a prince turns such an age, but it should definitely be the most extravagant and fantastical ball that anyone will ever have experienced. I can see it now; a ball that will go down in history as the greatest ball that any family has ever put on.” Roman went on to describe his perfect vision for what he wanted, including things such as guest list, colours, outfits, decorations. He was so lost in his description that he was completely unaware of his father trying to cut in.

The king eventually gave up as he realised his son was just not stopping any time soon, planning on speaking to Roman more in the upcoming days about the ball, as he really did need to tell him some details that would be inevitable. He looked to his other side and watched his youngest stare across the table. Thomas was utterly enamoured by his older brother’s plans and ideas, his eyes shining with wonder as he clearly started to picture the fancy ballroom they had covered in all of the things Roman was talking about.

The crown prince’s fantasy vision was destroyed when servants cleared the table and Patton stood up from his chair, “Well, it sounds like you have a very vivid image of what you would like, Roman, and I do want to do that for you. We will need to talk about it some more later. Come and see me tomorrow, just after breakfast. I have to go for now. Enjoy the rest of your day, you two.” With that, the king swept through the door and headed off to perform whatever duties he needed.

Sara slipped into the doorway and called to Thomas, “Your Highness, the tutor is waiting for you in the classroom.” The younger prince hopped down off of the chair and walked as fast as he could over to the young servant. He turned and waved to Roman as he left.

“Bye Ro-Ro!”

Roman gently waved back. He remained in his seat for a minute longer before finally heaving himself up. At the moment, he didn’t have much planned. There was still time before he was to head over to the trainee knights and test their combat skills, so Roman decided to take a wander around the castle.

He was still lost in his visions of the party he was imagining, some details morphing from one colour to another as he tried to figure out the best combination. Roman was far too absorbed in his thoughts to notice the other distracted figure coming down the hall towards him. While he may have only been meandering down the corridor, the other person had been walking at speed, so when they crashed, Roman was the one sent flying to the floor.

All the wind was knocked from him as he landed hard on the stone flooring. Roman winced and turned his gaze up, ready to berate whoever had walked into him, but was immediately stopped by the gorgeous man before him.

“I apologise profusely, Your Highness. I should have been more cognizant of my surroundings.” Logan cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed by his actions.

Roman simply smiled confidently, “I seem to have a habit of ending up on the floor around you, Sir Magician. Perhaps next time you could catch me before I fall even harder for you?” The prince got up off of the floor and dusted himself off before looking back at the royal mage. He was internally disappointed by the lack of a visible reaction from the man, as he had hoped all the time he’d put into working on his romantic, flirtatious nature would at least get him a slight flush of the cheeks.

Logan just stood straight, looking down at the prince with a blank expression. He seemed a little annoyed, if the slight angle of his eyebrow was anything to go by. The two stood in silence for a moment, both waiting for the other to speak first but neither wanting to yield. Eventually, Logan sighed, “If we are done here, Your Highness, I have things I must attend to back in my tower.”

“I was hoping I could just stand here and stare at you for a while longer - like one should at any piece of exquisite art -but I understand that you are a busy man. I suppose I’ll have to keep such a desire for another day.” Roman shrugged and walked past the magician. He did pause when standing in line with Logan and looked sideways towards him, his eyes trailing all over his body before he spoke, “Maybe I’ll get the chance to have my hands on the whole collection sometime…” After that, Roman passed by and headed off on his way.

He couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face. Roman had been able to get Logan to at least react in some way, even if it was mostly a rolling of the eyes – though he presumed it to be a cover up for the way the magician flinched the tiniest bit at the proposition Roman had sent his way. As he was about to round the corner, Logan’s voice called out to him.

“Sorry, but you aren't supposed to handle the art. It's a common rule. I thought you'd know that was the proper decorum.” Logan’s voice was still as calm as ever, though Roman was only basing that off a couple of encounters with the man.

The crown prince stopped and turned to look back at the royal wizard, again letting his eyes graze over the full length of the star covered cloak that was hiding that thin, lithe body that he’d seen from him, “But if the art was mine, I’d be able to do as I please with it. Am I not correct?” The wizard seemed a little lost for words, as if he’d not been expecting such a response. Roman chuckled softly to himself before offering a gentle wave, “Do not let me keep you a second longer, Sir Pendry. Goodbye, for now.”

Roman continued on his way, heading in the general direction of the knights’ training area. He was in much higher spirits now as his mind was full of images and thoughts of the royal wizard, especially of their first meeting.

He’d been out on Allegria, soring through the air above the castle, enjoying the feeling of pure freedom. The pair had been practicing some tricks over the past months and had finally been able to complete the manoeuvre multiple times in a row with no failures only a couple of days before. Due to his high spirits and trust in his pegasus companion, Roman managed to convince the proud animal to try the trick far in the sky.

Allegria was more than happy to show off her skill and immediately sped up in order to begin the trick. After a few seconds at her top speed, Roman pulled on the white reigns to have her changing the direction, so she was beginning to rise. It was only a few seconds, but the pair performed the loop perfectly, coming out of the trick smoothly.

The two were running high on adrenaline and got caught up in celebrating their success. Allegria was so excited that she decided to do a repeat performance, with little warning to her rider and almost no care to her surroundings. Roman had to grip suddenly to avoid falling off which distracted him from their current position at the same time. It was only as the wall of the castle and the open window came into view as they came out of the loop that both Roman and Allegria realised their mistake and it was far too late.

The pegasus crashed into the wall just below the window, causing her rider who was still finding his grip to go flying through it and crash into the furniture on the opposite side of the room. Both fell hard to the ground, though Allegria was able to catch herself before she crashed too hard. Roman, on the other hand, was completely dazed.

He had a chance to look around the room he’d flown into. The ceilings were high and almost all the walls he was able to see were lined with bookshelves that were practically groaning under the weight of thick, leather-bound books and jars filled to the brim with mysterious substances. A large ladder rested against one of the bookshelves, clearly for the owner of the room to reach the high up shelves. On the floor at Roman’s feet was something that looked like a perch for a bird, though it was hard to tell with his slightly fuzzy vision and angle. He noticed the desks that sat under shorter, but still extremely full bookshelves that sat between the taller ones, all of them looking as though they had a different purpose. While all of this was extremely interesting and Roman would have wanted to explore this new area of the castle and see what was at the top of the spiral stairs across from him, he was far too distracted by the man who was looking down at him with a look of pure confusion and shock.

The man was stood just in front of a book stand with one of the thick books open on top of it, a dark blue robe where the edges were lined with stars resting on a mannequin behind it. But that was not important as the man was utterly enchanting and positively gorgeous. His features were sharp and angular, which Roman could only compare to his beloved sword. His eyes were a striking deep brown which almost seemed like a void that Roman felt himself falling into the longer he stared, while the hair atop his head matched the colour of his eyes and was immaculately placed. The pale skin was contrasted so wonderfully by the dark colour of the clothes he was wearing, the simple dark blue tunic’s long sleeves pushed up to past the man’s elbows which gave the prince the perfect look at his slightly defined arms and the large hands. The last thing Roman noticed was the dark feathered owl that was perched upon the man’s shoulder, which gave him more evidence to believe the thing at his feet was, in fact, a perch.

Roman was unable to truly think as he stared up at the beautiful stranger and, whether it was because of how hard he’d hit his head or because of the sight in front of him, Roman managed to breathe out a few words, “I guess that crash must have been enough to kill me. Why else would I be seeing an angel in front of me…?”

The man seemed to be startled by the prince’s words, only able to look at him in alarm before scoffing to himself. He offered a hand to the prince, “I am no angel, Your Highness, just a simple magician.”

The prince managed to get to his feet, swaying a little as he found his footing again. Everything was still a little fuzzy and he was definitely aching in almost every part of his body. He wanted to thank this man for getting him up but was distracted by loud whinnying and stomping from outside the window. Roman walked over and peered down towards Allegria, who was clearly upset and nursing a bad head and wing injury. The prince winced slightly when the pegasus looked up towards him with pure rage. He pulled himself back in and put on a confident smile, “It seems my dear pegasus needs some tending to. I suppose I shall leave you be. Sorry for the intrusion, my dear sir.”

The stranger accompanied him to the door, walking close behind the prince. Roman turned to look up at the man’s eyes once more after passing through the threshold, “I would love to know your name, if you would like to indulge me.”

The man’s lip seemed to twitch upwards at the side as he responded, “My name is Logan Pendry, Your Highness.”

“Logan.” Roman said his name and it felt almost like it slid right off of his tongue, as if the name was meant for him to say, “Perhaps I’ll have to crash through windows more often if it leads to gorgeous sights such as yourself.”

Logan snorted and rolled his eyes, but his lip remained quirked upwards, “You should tend to your pegasus. It doesn’t sound all that pleased.” He paused, allowing Roman to hear Allegria crying out even louder. When Roman scrunched his face up at the thought of facing the angered animal, Logan’s smile became more pronounced, “Goodbye, Your Highness.” were the last words he said before slowly shutting the wooden door to his study.

Roman frequently thought about the incident, mostly remembering the beauty that was Logan Pendry. The wizard was honestly on his mind far more than Roman would ever say aloud. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his attraction to the man, far from it. It was more that if he spoke about it, many people would likely see it as bordering on obsession. He just wanted to be in the man’s presence as often as he could, yet it was incredibly difficult.

His room was up in the tallest tower, the highest point of the castle. It was so far out of the way for Roman and up so high, that every time he thought about visiting him, Roman was already feeling the exhaustion setting in. It was likely because of this same factor that Logan rarely visited the castle, though Roman was now seeing him around far more often. He was just about to start his theorising of why he was seeing the elusive man roaming the halls more frequently, but the prince had just entered the knights’ training area and was distracted by Virgil calling for him. He put the thoughts aside as he became excited to show off his sword skills.

Meanwhile, up in said room in the tallest tower, Logan had just shut the door firmly. He leant against the wooden door as his face burned a bright red. He had no idea what was going on. Every time he had crossed paths with the crown prince, Logan had felt a spark inside of him that had his heart racing and his cheeks threatening to flush. The magician just couldn’t understand it, he just couldn’t fathom why one single person would give him such a rush of feeling. He cursed the prince under his breath as he peeled the cloak off of his shoulders and wrapped it around it’s usual resting spot behind his reading book stand.

Logan stood there for a moment, his eyes trailing over to the side that was nearby. It was where Roman had fallen on that fateful day, a dark mark that coated the right side of the desk being a permanent reminder of those events.

It had all happened on a normal day. Logan had been standing at his perch, reading through a new tome with interest, the rest of the world unimportant. Nothing should have interrupted him and certainly nothing should have distracted him, but Strix flying over and perching on his shoulder was unexpected. He almost jumped when he felt her claws, turning to look at the owl with confusion.

“What are you doing? You never do this…” Logan asked. Strix turned to look at the window, as if trying to answer his question. Logan went to turn and look out in that same direction, but the events were already unfolding before he could blink.

A man came flying through the window, knocking Strix’s perch onto the floor. The top of it splintered a little as it hit the ground hard. The stranger hit the desk next to Logan with a loud crash, causing several small bottles to fall over and one to crack and leak – which had caused the mark that was still visible to this day. Outside the window, Logan clearly had heard the smack of something against the bricks and was able to just make out the slight fluttering of wings as whatever had hit the wall and thrown the man into his room fell to the ground.

This had been the moment the feelings had started. Logan watched as the man caught up with his surroundings, noticing the small details about him. The man’s dirty blond hair was falling into his eyes and his instinctual instinct to run his hand through it had Logan’s breath catching slightly for an unknown reason. When the stranger locked eyes with him, he was able to see the deep brown of the iris and was almost lost in the comparison between it and his tanned skin. The man was clearly a nobleman, or at least someone of higher status, due to the decoration and pure white colouring of his tunic which was now dirtied, which also was clinging to his upper arms allowing Logan to notice the structure of his muscled arms. Then the nobleman opened his mouth and called him an angel in his smooth voice. Logan’s legs seemed to lose a little of their strength and he felt his brain stop completely as he attempted to comprehend what had just been said to him.

“I am no angel, sir.” Logan had eventually said, coming back to himself. “I am simply a magician.” He’d offered a hand to the man on the ground before even thinking about it.

The nobleman got to his feet and stumbled over to the window as both of them heard the loud frustrated noises coming from the pegasus who was grounded on the grass at the foot of the tower. Logan noticed that the prince sharply pulled himself back from the window for seemingly no reason and so he peered down at the frustrated winged horse. When he caught the eyes that seemed to hold pure fury, Logan turned and spoke to the nobleman, “You should go and check on your pegasus. It doesn’t seem very pleased with you.”

The stranger laughed confidently, once again running a hand through his hair in order to push it away from his eyes, “She’ll be fine for a few moments longer. Gives us just enough time to at least become acquainted.”

Logan narrowed his eyes slightly, “Are you sure? She doesn’t seem all that happy and that was an extremely hard impact… You, yourself, should also go and be seen in the infirmary. I’m sure they’d be more than happy to check you over…”

The nobleman waved a hand, dismissing Logan’s concerns. He leaned in closer to the wizard, almost smirking, “I'd much rather you check me out instead. You must be a smart man, I'm sure you could do such a simple thing.”

“If by ‘simple thing’, you are referring to yourself, then yes. You do appear to be quite simple.” Logan looked down his nose at the man, almost in disgust.

The stranger grinned, “Despite my apparent simplicity, you did just agree that you would do me. I’m more than happy to be simple if that’s what I get in return.”

Logan was now completely done by the man’s stubbornness to continue this pointless charade. It had nothing to do with the fact he could feel heat rising in his cheeks and his heartrate increasing even more, and definitely had no relation at all with the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind by the implications that the noble had just made him aware of. Logan grasped a hold of the stranger’s arm and dragged him towards the door, almost tossing him out of the room in annoyance. As he went to shut the door, the nobleman managed to hold it open.

“Would you at least tell me your name?” He asked, maintaining direct eye contact with the flustered mage.

“Logan Pendry.” Logan replied shortly.

The man standing outside had repeated the name slowly, as if he was savouring it, “Well, Sir Logan, I hope to see you around more often. Perhaps I’ll crash through your window again sometime.”

“Please refrain from doing such a moronic thing. I don’t think you can afford many more blows to the head.” Logan snarked.

The noble laughed heartily, leaning against the outer door frame casually, “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”

Logan rolled his eyes, “Goodbye…” He trailed off, suddenly realising he’d not found out this man’s name.

The man seemed a little surprised, but not at all offended, “Roman. Crown Prince Roman Sanders.” He bowed deeply, almost in a sarcastic manner.

Logan felt his entire body turn to stone. He quickly shut the door with a muttered, “Goodbye, Your Highness.” The lock on the door was slammed shut before Roman could even say a single word. Logan had taken the rest of the day to think about the fact he’d not only insulted and manhandled the crown prince, but also had been flirted with by him. He’d quickly decided the prince was just playing a trick on him and attempted to forget about it.

The magician decided to try and figure out what was truly causing such odd reactions to occur within him, such as his elevated heart rate. This is what had caused him to spend more time out of his tower and around the castle, under the pretence of experimentation which was not technically a lie.

Now, Logan crawled up the stairs and out of the trapdoor in his bedroom ceiling in order to sit on the roof. It was his space away from the world, away from the castle. Though he could see it wherever he looked, Logan simply felt like he was in a different land all together. He came out here when he needed to think or relax. He still couldn’t figure out why Roman’s presence made him feel such peculiar things, but Logan tried to push that away for now as all he really wanted to do was calm down from that day’s event.

Previous Chapter -- Next Chapter

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vivithefolle · 6 years ago

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In honor of The King’s birthday, I’ve decided to share some of my favourite lines in fanfiction about him.

Here we go folks - Ron Weasley appreciation galore! <3

Let’s start with three drabbles that are just too good in their entirety to chop up, and then the big ones...

you can climb a ladder up to the sun, by acrosticacrumpet

Brilliant, by @emullz

Blue, by IamShadow21

Hermione watched him, their hands still connected at the fingertips. A heat spread through her chest that had nothing to do with summer, and she found herself just as satisfied as he was. She couldn’t draw her attention away from him. A fire could have started and she wouldn’t have noticed it, because his brightness was more illuminant than any other. She’d found herself staring at him several times through the course of Hogwarts, but normally she’d look down when he sensed her gaze, and met her eyes; she found no reason to look away this time. Ever so present in the years previous, she never truly appreciated what he brought to the group. She might have been the moon, intelligent and full of wonder, and Harry might have been the Earth, inhabited yet left unexplored, but Ron was the sun. He was warm and radiating, a constant, and they both needed him in their own way; they just didn’t realize it. You don’t know what you have until it’s gone. You never fully understand the sun’s importance until it doesn’t rise in the morning. His smile was a gust of wind in stagnant Spanish heat. It was something she couldn’t get enough of, something she wouldn’t let go.

- Lively, by LesserPrincess

I have always wondered if one could connect all of Ron's freckles and make some kind of pattern, like a star constellation. I actually tried to once when he had fallen asleep. I stood there and looked at his chest; I looked and counted, and tried to arrange and rearrange, but eventually I just determined that Ron has as many freckles as the sky has stars. His stars just manage to glow even when the Sun is out, and with that hair, he carries the Sun with him, anyway.

- Hatred, by earth_dragon

It was a strange sofa, long and broad with a checkered blue and green cover. She’d never been at a dinner party here without hearing somebody commenting on it, and she herself had questioned Ron’s judgement when she’d first seen it. Her first thought had been that it was a hideous creation, and she’d told him as much. But Ron had just smiled and patted the sofa, looking like a proud father. “I know it’s awful”, he’d said. “Even the shop-keeper tried to talk me out of buying it, and that says something.” He’d paused, hand resting on the armrest, before continuing. “But I just couldn’t leave it here. I figured that if I didn’t buy it, then nobody else would either, and the thought of it standing there in the shop all alone…” He’d shrugged. “I don’t know. But I do know that if I were a sofa, and looked like that, then I’d wish for someone to look beyond my godawful exterior and take time to notice my wonderful personality.”

And after having heard those words Hermione could do little but love the poor, tacky sofa.

- Caught in the Fire, by Penny-in-the-sky

Bemused, he watched Ron, disheveled, half-dressed, slip and slide clumsily on the comics strewn across the floor as he made his way over to his dresser. There’s something terribly sweet and vulnerable about him, Harry thought.

Just look at him, he thought, sliding his hand from Ron’s face to his hair. At the bright bright hair… at the freckles that make him look like a kid. At the way his top lip curves and the bottom one pouts. Has it really taken me five years to see him? See how… perfect he is?

- Proxy, by Mathilda Bishop

Hermione crept across the darkened room, her bare feet silenced by the plush beige carpeting. A single strip of moonlight filtered through the open window, illuminating the sight in front of her.

Ron.

He was sprawled across the bed, wearing only a pair of blue striped boxer shorts. She smiled as she approached him, taking in his thin frame, his pale, freckled skin. He had never been, nor would he ever be broad and muscular. She liked him the way he was: slim, toned, and absolutely gorgeous.

- Sleeping Arrangements, by willowwand

Everytime [Ron] had to lift his arms above shoulder level the hem of whatever he was wearing would display a glimpse of belly, a flash of back or sometimes underwear, and when [Hermione] was really lucky she got to indulge in the protruding hipbones sliding free of his waistband.

His torso was very long but his waist so very narrow. Her hands weren’t that big but sometimes she felt sure she could place her hands on his waist and get her fingers to meet at his back.

His body fascinated her. He wasn’t scrawny, there was nothing unpleasant to look at regarding his body at all, but his proportions were so otherworldly. It was as if he had been designed by an artist, a sculptor, who extended the perfect muscular male form onto an elegant frame and stretched and tightened it into a lean giraffe of a man.

- From the Clutter to the Stars, by Solstice Muse

Hermione held her breath and tried to choke back the sobs that were threatening to destroy her. Everything was falling into place, horribly, horribly into place... This was why Ron, with his brilliant strategical mind, had never planned - he had. He had planned to fight until it killed him, and that didn't really leave much space for a career. This was the reason he lounged about and ate far too much cake and didn't bother with school work unless it was a practical exam. Even Quidditch suddenly swung into horrible focus - what does a Keeper do? He uses his own body to protect the goal... and she knew he'd done that... seen him move, reposition himself so that he was blocking her and Harry from potential spell blasts... and she always felt safer with him there...

- Expectations, by Alternatively

“Why do you keep playing him?” Hermione asked.

“It’s the best way to get better. Doesn’t make it any less annoying when he keeps hammering me.” Harry grumbled. Ron simply sat there with a smug look on his face.

It was almost as if he was more at home on a chessboard than anywhere else.

- Regret, by HellIsHere

Hermione’s instinct was to scoff, but the sincerity in his eyes overwhelmed her. She swallowed, feeling as though she couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat. Bugger quidditch, this was what drew her to Ron. He had such a big heart, and he wore it on his sleeve - and while she knew things sometimes got garbled on the way to his mouth, when he believed something strongly, she could trust in every word.

- Lucky Man, by @idearlylovealaugh

This time though, Hermione doesn’t feel like [Harry] can do something about it, and the worst part is that she’s starting thinking she wouldn’t be able herself either because it’s been long time since they both learnt Ronald Weasley works better when he’s the one saving himself, when he gets to fix himself alone and finds the best way to keep going despite all the wrong he did before. He’s his own anchor and that’s what she loves the most about him.

But under those rough, strong and solid layers there’s softness, and gentle touches and sweet words whispered against her skin when her body aches for how much it craves his warmth. Ron Weasley is the last slice of cake left on the table that he selflessly gives to you despite the hugeness of his gluttony; he’s the wide smile on her neck when he places wet kisses on it and tickles her at the same time because he’s insatiable of her laughter. He’s goodness, and hidden grace and everything between.

How can this turn out to be a weak point on people?

- Life In Death, by my_inked_asterism

It was just that [Hermione's] way would take much, much longer. She didn't know Harry's emotional situation like Ron did. Because - although Hermione was typically better at noticing feelings - when Ron applied his personal understanding of the human condition, he came away with a deeper set of realizations than most. Where Hermione recognized emotion with a clinical, academic approach, Ron came up with personal, informal reasoning with which he could comprehend emotion and help others comprehend it in return.

- Coping, by Mir Queen

Somewhere in the vast jumble of her thoughts, she heard Ron ask, “Why do you like me?”

Only Ron—sweet, self-deprecating Ron—would ask that question. Ron, who allowed a giant chess piece to beat him over the head, chased after gigantic spiders for her, and stood up on a broken leg to defend Harry against Sirius Black. Ron, who sold his most valuable possession for her. Ron, whose red hair, freckles, and smiling lips were maddeningly adorable. Her voice was shaky as she answered, “Because...” She wasn’t done yet, but he kissed the corner of her mouth and distracted her momentarily. “Because you are the most likely person to ask that question...” There was more to say, but he was irresistible. She stole another kiss and continued, “... and the person with the least reason to ask it.”

They looked at each other and smiled. This was nice—being able to stare at someone openly for no reason—even if he was across the sofa. She could study him freely, flushing with the knowledge that he was doing the same. He had his father’s eyes, as did Ginny. He, like the twins, had Mrs. Weasley’s thick hair. He and Percy shared Mr. Weasley’s long nose. He had Mr. Weasley’s smile. Beyond his physical appearance, though, she could see other traces of his family in him—Percy’s masked insecurity, the twins’ mischief, his mother’s temper, his father’s earnestness, his older brothers’ rumoured intelligence, and Ginny’s consideration and sweetness.

But this was what people had been doing to him all his life, wasn’t it? Comparing him to the other members of his family? "Is he going to play Quidditch as well as his brothers?" "Is he going to be Head Boy?" "Is he going to get as many O.W.L.s?" He was "another Weasley". Oh, but he was so much more than that! He didn’t know it, though, did he?

“I wanted to say thanks for being my friend,” Harry shrugged. Ron felt his face and neck grow warm... but something in his chest did as well. It was a nice feeling. He couldn’t make himself speak, however, and was grateful when Harry continued, “You were my first friend, and... well, you’re my favourite person in the world, you know. Every day, I wish I could have my parents back, but, erm... losing you would be worse than not having them, in a way, because I never knew them, and I don’t think I could do without you.”

Utterly dumbfounded, Ron could only stand there with his mouth hanging open. Harry really thought that it would be worse to lose him now than it had been to have no parents for fourteen years? He was more important to Harry than any other person? The magnitude of Harry’s stumbling speech almost made Ron take a step backwards. He was aware that he had made some kind of noise in his throat, which Harry evidently took as a response.

“I’m really... and anyone who has you for a friend... and Hermione, because you care about her so much... I mean, lucky.”

Ron caught the meaning of Harry’s rambling words and continued to stand in the doorway numbly. “Thanks,” he replied. “You too.” With that, he hurried from the room, his mind a strange whirl of awkwardness and pleasure.

- Finding Lily, by DeeDee

#ron weasley appreciation #ron weasley defense squad #hp #harry potter #fanfic recs #fic recs #hp fic recs #ron weasley

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joannaofportugal · 5 years ago

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CHALLENGE 003 // JOANNA DE BRAGANZA word count - 2044

001. describe your characters’ relationship with their mother or father, or both. minimum word count: 150.

joanna is the sixth and last child of the braganza family. with her youth comes with a lack of tact and seriousness that had been drilled into her sisters from the very beginning of their training as royal princesses of portugal. both crara and cristiano loved their children and though the populace of portugal yearned for a son the parents of the royal heir were happy to have healthy children after the wave of plague that had coasted across earth’s surface. the younger twin of the last set of children from the braganza line, joanna was given leave by her parents to run her life with as much passion as a male heir would do. she disrupted mass with her childish screams and ran through the coastline of portugal with her skirts up over her head. no one told her off nor told her to cease such behaviour, which left her childhood loose and free. though in relation to her parents, her mother was so busy with so many children that joanna often felt in the background, mistaken for her twin or her elder sisters. now? her temper and mood could simmer if she was exposed to obsessive maternal love, but all adoration of parenthood goes to liana, the heir of portugal. and cristiano? a firm hand should’ve controlled his youngest daughter, but with his own wild streak, there was little he could do for dear joanna.

002. what are your characters’ most prominent physical features? what is a feature that they are most insecure about? what are they proudest of?

when you first catch a glimpse of the portuguese princess you will see her bright red curls that fall from her crown, next you will notice the sweet curve of her cupid’s bow. when it comes to insecurity she does not mention her physical looks but rather her lack of etiquette when it comes down to the way she speaks - her language is rough round the edges, and you may blame that on her country-upbringing or the fact that she was quite spoilt.. what are they proudest off? off the bad she is proud of her hair, she brushes through her curls one thousand times morning, noon and night.

003. how vain is your character? do they find themselves attractive? what is their worst flaw, and are they aware of it?

she is terribly vain, and of course she fancies herself - she doesn’t believe there’s another like her. it’s almost comedic, but in her head it’s very serious, she’s almost a version of narcissus.

004. what is your character’s ranking on the kinsey scale?

2 - This makes you heterosexual with more than incidental homosexual tendencies.

005. describe your character’s happiest memory. minimum word count: 150.

as a young girl she learned of the tales of ancient greece and fell madly in love with the story of helen, the fac that launched a thousand ships. love soon turned to obsession and so urged her father to collect portugal’s finest artists to paint her as a reimagined helen of troy and sparta. though joanna was elated at the idea she had no true understanding of how long it’d take. for many months she posed for the painting, growing her red locks out to resemble the fires that surrounded troy and the maiden at war. she hated this period simply due to the fact that she was an active soul who’d rather run around the halls than stay still all day. furious that it was not yet complete, joanna refused to pose anymore and told the artists to use their numerous sketches to complete it. weeks later winter had fallen onto the portugal coast, and finally, the group of artists known to portgual’s high society framed their portraits and had each canvas put upon the wall for her majesty, the young princess, to view. short of her sixteenth birthday, joanna was overwhelmed and cried at such beauty! the artists had done her well and captured both the wave of her hair and the tension that helen herself wore on her shoulders. though the artists did not complain of their energetic and irritated muse, cristiano paid the artists handsomely with favors and extended coin. joanna told the king to send such portraits to the heirs and princes around the world, leaving the young joanna to marvel at only one particular painting done by her favourite artist. it hangs in her bedroom in sao jorge, and will hang there till the crumble of the castle centuries later, it’d hang in the portuguese museum. this was her happiest moment by far and such memories have yet to compare.

006. is there one event in your characters’ life that they would like to erase from their past? why? minimum word count: 200.

a memory to be lost is not so easy to find, joanna has been blessed to live an easy life on the coast of portugal and as the youngest of queen crara’s children she has also lived a sheltered life of stories and art. so even her worst enemy is not something worthy of note to anyone else! as a young princess, she was absolutely doted on and was barely ever subjected to sad notes of melancholy. she was given gifts y visiting royals and received them all with carrying success / but her favourite was a canary of yellow feathers and soft melody, the bird arrived in a golden cage decorated for the princess with ornaments from a world unthinkable for a girl who loved the portuguese salt sea! such love was pure and innocent, she had been far too young to conceptualise grief and loss - so at the age of seven her bird never sang again, leaving her heartbroken and torn. such sadness only lasted a little while but alas this was enough to scar her innocent soul. she never kept a pet again, or so she hoped - only months later she was given a cat from her father that she ran around with with glee, the at lived long enough for her to cope with the death.

007. let’s talk favourites! what is their favourite colour, food, and season? what, in a modern setting, would be your character’s favourite song?

her favourite colour is blue, but the kind of blue you find reflected in the ocean - almost green. her favourite food comes in the form of figs, honey and cakes and her favourite season is summer - she loves to bask in the glow of the sun whilst dipping her toes in water. in a modern setting joanna braganza would be the type of girl who listens to taylor swift and other such pop acts that are described as empowering. her favourite song would be somethin by taylor !

008. can you define a turning point in your character’s life?

i wish i could! but joanna is a sheltered girl, who has always been cuddled in means of life lessons. though a turning point that could come is an evaluation of her relationship with her family and suitors who may change everything to her.

009. is your character an early morning bird or a night owl? at what time do they get most of their work done?

joanna... does no work. no work at all. she neither dedicates herself to getting up early, staying up late or going to bed at a certain time. bt if she would have chores or something to do, she’d sleep in, get up late and stay up to socialise or catch up on deadlines.

010 a. what other character, a npc or someone apart of the rp, is your character completely real with? who knows them best, has seen them at their most vulnerable, knows their innermost and basest fears? b. if your character does not have this person, why? do they long for one?

to be real with someone i suppose you have to be real with yourself. joanna is not sure who she could be truly honest with but ooc, joanna is her most honest with her sisters. though she struggles to be seen outside of being a graganza princess her sisters have see her throw immature tantrums as well as her tears that fall down her face. they are the ones who see joanna for who she truly is.

011. is your character a neat or messy person?

messy, she would never care to clean up after herself !

012. does your character have any irrational fears or phobias?

no, joanna is bold and strong and doesn’t nurture any fear or phobia as of the present day. she is lucky in this aspect, though you never know what may change.

013. does your character have an underlying passion or trait that influences all aspects of their life?

the passion that takes hold of her very soul is one which helps her pursue dreams that were mostly out of reach for women of her time. an ambition for lust and greatness helps her climb ladders or to at least look for the first few steps. this need for appreciation or attention pushes her to find grand titles to hold for her own, or something that’d make historians sit up and pay attention to the infanta.

014. what might your character’s ideal romantic person be?

t is sad to admit that joanna’s ideal romantic partner would be one who is an easy submissive, one to allow joanna to roam free yet her attention is heavy and powerful, she would give her love but expects more in return.

015. describe your character’s hands. are they small, long, calloused, smooth, stubby, dexterous or clumsy? do they wear any jewelry and would they wear polish in a modern setting?

her hands are small and long, fitting for her small frame. they are smooth, soft yet a little chubby due to puppy fat she cannot shake. she wears rings bestowed to her as princess of portugal, sapphire gems surrounded by silver imported from across the continent - in a modern setting she would wear polish in a manicured form.

016. how does your character smell? what is their favourite scent

joanna bathes several times each day both due to the natural heat of portugal and now in florence, plus she detests foul smells of the natural waste or the scent of smoke from open fires. though most perfume oils worn in the time came in the form of lavender, patchouli, sandalwood and lemon joanna prefers the scent of flowers with araomatic blossoms - roses, lilies and irises to be exact she peppers the oil behind her ears, against her throat and against her pulsating wrists. she makes sure to smell well.

017. how would your muse describe their religious beliefs?

joanna was raised to practise roman catholicism. though her mother was very stern on the subject of religion joanna herself found it boring and tedious, even in such serious matters of mass joanna used to run down the ailes of cathedrals with her skirts up above her head. though clearly religious in the fact that she believed in a heaven and a god whom looked after them all, joanna does not care for his judgement and practises her morals on herself more than anyone else.

018. what rules does your muse live by, if any?

to not be forgotten. she will do anything with the life she leads to be remembered - whether it be for good or bad, is still to be decided.

019. does your muse overshare, or are they more private?

joanna shares the sin of hubris and ambition frowned upon by the church or high and mighty kings. she adores sharing her conquests with sisters and friends and can often find herself gossiping as a pregnant mother would do - she keeps little private.

020. is your muse a gossiper? are they more likely to argue with their fists or tongue? what does their voice sound like?

as stated above, joanna is perhaps one of the louder gossipers of the portuguese court, sharing words heard in the darkness of florence behind her opened palms. and though joanna is prone to violence in the terms of slaps against friends and foes she rather shouts silly nonsence from the tip of her tongue. and finally, her voice is sweet and soft though laced with poison from portugal’s weeds and flowers.

021. is your muse a … pessimist or optimist … lover or fighter … believer in happy endings … believer in love at first sight?

she is an optimist in all the sense that she searches for the better things in life, and believes that if she tries hard enough she will get just that - what she wants. and though she paints herself as a lover she is a fighter in every meaning of the word. in terms of happy endings and love at first sight, joanna does not believe. she believes there are exceptions to such rules, such as her parents who practised love from the moment they met one another, but in reality joanna knows she won’t be so lucky - only if she were the luckiest person in the world would she come across such fortune not made for royal blood.

022. what sense of humour does your character have?

joanna lives to laugh if she does not live to find fame and fortune. her humour is famous in portugal, where she makes every person laugh with both her tantrums and her true jokes that seem soft on such lips.

023. what bad habits does your character have?

bad habits come in the form of picking her nails, eating with her mouth full and picking up her skirts to expose the softest of ankles! she is rotten with bad habits, though her good looks normally cover them up like paste.

024. how does your character feel about growing old?

it scares her rotten to grow old and not reach fame and prestige! she plans to live a fast and famous lifestyle, and hopes to not die before she finds happiness within gold and tiaras that’d make her head grow heavy. in some ways she hopes to die in childbirth, birthing an heir to a country that begs for one - she will be made a martyr! to grow old with no story to tell would be the greatest shame of all.

025. does your character prefer adventure to safety and security?

of course, to carry on an adventure is to live life! to refuse such a thing, and to instead take an easy route is to be a coward - and joanna believes above of all else, that she is not a coward.

#crhs.challenge #// seja a princesa vermelha ou morra ! ( JOANNA BRAGANZA )

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gdwessel · 6 years ago

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G1 Supercard - 4/6/2019; Wrestling Dontaku Tour: Featured Matches, Tanahashi & Tenzan Injured; Nagata/Kojima in Crockett Cup; This Week’s NJPW on AXS

Yes, hi, hello. It’s been a bit. After two twelve-hour drives, five wrestling shows (which is apparently NOT ENOUGH judging by how many shows some people attended, or WORKED, during Mania Weekend), and a brush with death (I’ll explain next time I record), I needed to recover a bit. I’m still kinda half-assing it now, since I won’t be going through the full lineups for Wrestling Dontaku in this post. But youse all can forgive me, right? Anyway, let’s start with the whole reason I went to NYC...

(And hey, you can also listen to me do a podblast on Pro Wrestling Only about the event!)

ROH/NJPW G1 Supercard - 4/6/2019, Madison Square Garden, NYC (NJPWWorld / PPV)

Honor Rumble: Kenny King d. Jushin Thunder Liger, Great Muta [Wrestle-1], TK O’Ryan, Vinny Marseglia, Tomohiro Ishii [CHAOS], King Haku [Bullet Club], Cheeseburger, Minoru Suzuki [SZKG], Hirooki Goto [CHAOS], Jonathan Gresham, Toru Yano [CHAOS], Colt Cabana, Delirious, Bad Luck Fale [Bullet Club], YOSHI-HASHI [CHAOS], Rocky Romero [CHAOS], PJ Black, Tracy Williams [Lifeblood], Brian Milonas, Chase Owens [Bullet Club], Will Ferrara, Ryusuke Taguchi, Shingo Takagi [Los Ingobernables], Rhett Titus, SHO [CHAOS], YOH [CHAOS], Shaheem Ali, LSG, BUSHI [Los Ingobernables], Beer City Brusier (42;21, OTTR)

NEVER Openweight Championship & ROH World Television Championship Title v. Title: Jeff Cobb [FREE] © d. Will Ospreay [CHAOS] © (Tour Of The Islands, 12:52) - Ospreay fails his 2nd defense - Cobb succeeds his 6th defense, and is the 24th NEVER Openweight Champion

Rush [Los Ingobernables] d. Dalton Castle (Skewer Dropkick, 0:15)

Women of Honor World Championship: Kelly Klein d. Mayu Iwatani [STARDOM] © (K Power, 10:38) - Iwatani fails her 3rd defense - Klein is the 4th champion

NYC Street Fight Open Challenge: Juice Robinson [Lifeblood], Flip Gordon & Mark Haskins [Lifeblood] d. Bully Ray, Silas Young & Shane Taylor (Gordon > Bully, Four Flippy Splash, 15:01)

IWGP Junior Heavyweight Championship 3-Way Match: Dragon Lee [CMLL] d. Taiji Ishimori [Bullet Club] © & Bandido [Lifeblood] (Lee > Bandido, Desnucadora, 8:54) - Ishimori fails his 3rd defense - Dragon Lee is the 84th champion

IWGP Heavyweight Tag Team v. ROH World Tag Team Championships Title v. Title 4-Way Match: Tama Tonga & Tanga Loa [Bullet Club] © d. PCO & Brody King [Villain Enterprises] ©, EVIL & SANADA [Los Ingobernables] and Jay & Mark Briscoe (Loa > King, Super Powerbomb, 9:54) - Guerillas of Destiny succeed their 1st defense - PCO/King fail their first defense; Guerrilas of Destiny are the 54th ROH World Tag Team champions

RevPro Undisputed British Heavyweight Championship: Zack Sabre Jr. [SZKG] © d. Hiroshi Tanahashi (Jim Breaks Armbar, 15:14) - Sabre succeeds his ? defense

IWGP Intercontinental Championship: Kota Ibushi d. Tetsuya Naito [Los Ingobernables] © (Kamigoye, 20:53) - Naito fails his 2nd defense - Ibushi is the 21st champion

ROH World Championship 3-Way Ladder Match: Matt Taven d. Jay Lethal © & Marty Scurll [Villain Enterprises] (29:35) - Lethal fails his 13th defense - Taven is the 21st champion

IWGP Heavyweight Championship: Kazuchika Okada [CHAOS] d. Jay White [Bullet Club] © (Rainmaker, 32:33) - White fails his 1st defense - Okada is the 69th champion

Hoo wee, a lot to unpack here. This actually ran longer than Wrestle Kingdom 13. And it did feel every bit of that towards the end, sitting in MSG, I have to say. But this was a great show, and for being the last show I saw this weekend, it was a great way to end my Mania Weekend.

Which isn’t to say there are some major questions here. Like, was this the right move to take titles off White and Naito? Both are VERY over in their respective roles, Naito the only NJPW wrestler to get pre-match chants, White clearly the most hated heel in NJPW, both in Japan AND America. While Ibushi in his first championship as a contracted wrestler offers fresh title matches, Okada retaking the belt does not. And they were in the midst of an angle whereby Naito wanted to win the IWGP Heavyweight title while still IC champion. So that was... a waste of time and energy? Neither of which says the matches were not good, because both of them were. Just not sure of the results.

Tanahashi got injured, maybe by that Jim Breaks Armbar? So he is out of the next tour. So is Hiroyoshi Tenzan, which, not sure how he got injured considering he didn’t work this show. Maybe it happened during the New Japan Cup tour, or whilst in training.

The Guerrillas of Destiny are now double-champions, however their belts were stolen by Toru Yano at the conclusion of the match. Not that anyone in MSG actually noticed, because everyone’s attention was on the (what we now know to be worked) crowd invasion by fucking Enzo & Cass. I really don’t want to spend too much time on those two scumfucks. MSG let their feelings known in no uncertain terms, however. As did many of the wrestlers, like, true to form, Tama Tonga. This was a recurring theme, of Ring Of Honor really not reading the room, and having such shitty booking decisions. The Women of Honor match was patently Not Good, and a waste of Mayu Iwatani’s talents; this goes double for the Beautiful People appearing at the end, to absolute crickets in MSG. Kenny King robbing both Jushin Thunder Liger and the absolute surprise entrant THE GREAT MUTA (yes, I absolutely did lose my shit seeing him at this show, why do you ask?) of an MSG moment (Muta did spit red mist in King’s face tho). A streetfight clusterfuck that became a 6-man match to put over Herb Gordon. The way too long ladder match. ROH stinks, folks. Stop watching them. They are awful. The only thing on their end that was remotely good was Rush destroying Dalton Castle, but Dalton is either turning heel or leaving the company, following his attacks on The Boys. But yeah, this show made it crystal clear that NJPW are way better off without fucking around with Sinclair Broadcasting Group, especially if they are going to hire scumbags like Enzo Amore.

Dragon Lee finally wins the IWGP Junior Heavyweight title! That was a bit of a shocker. So was Ospreay ending his Giant Killer push by losing the NEVER title to a much deserving Jeff Cobb. Real happy he finally has an NJPW title.

Long story short, I really did enjoy this show, but mostly by ignoring the ROH content. I also had a wonderful weekend, where I met quite a lot of people, both regular folk and wrestlers (ZSJ! Shibata! Chinsuke Nakamura! Jiro “Ikemen” Kuroshio!), saw friends and co-hosts, ate some great food, and saw some awesome wrestling. Including the RevPro show on Friday, which had a lot of NJPW guys, but I don’t have the energy to go over that now. And what’s passed, is past. Time to look into the future yo...

This Saturday (my 46th birthday!), we begin the cycle of shows leading in to Wrestling Dontaku, which will be a 2-day event once again. I don’t have the energy to enter in the full tour cards right now. I will get to that tomorrow/Friday when I do a new Upcoming Events post. But I can go over some of the feature matches...

On 4/20, we will have Sengoku Lord in Nagoya, at Aichi Prefectural Gymnasium. Two title defenses on this show, as Kota Ibushi will make his first defense of the IWGP Intercontinental title against Zack Sabre Jr., who of course beat Ibushi during the New Japan Cup. Also on this show, Juice Robinson will defend the IWGP US belt against Bad Luck Fale.

Another title match takes place on 4/29, at the annual Wrestling Hi no Kuni event in Kumamoto. Here, GOD will defend the IWGP Heavyweight Tag Team straps against the Most Violent Players, Togi Makabe & Toru Yano. The main event of this show is a special singles match between Hirooki Goto v. Jay White. Not sure why, but here we are. There will also be a special singles, non-title match (if Juice retains on 4/20) between Juice v. Chase Owens.

The first day of Wrestling Dontaku, on 5/3 in Fukuoka, has the first time the IWGP Junior Heavyweight title is a main event match for a megashow in... a long time. (Someone tweeted when the last time was, and I didn’t save it, and I can’t fathom looking right now.) Dragon Lee makes his 1st defense against the previous champion, Taiji Ishimori. That ought to be good. Also, Jeff Cobb makes his first defense of the NEVER Openweight title against Suzuki-gun’s Taichi. And only that belt.

The following day, on 5/4, sees Kazuchika Okada make his first defense of the IWGP Heavyweight title against LIJ’s SANADA. Those three have had great matches before, including the recent New Japan Cup Final. They are also advertising a special singles match between Tomohiro Ishii v. EVIL, as well as a tag match that sees Dragon Lee & Will Ospreay team v. Taiji Ishimori & an X wrestler. Not sure why they are going the X route when we all know it’s El Phantasmo.

As I said above, I will list all cards tomorrow or Friday in an Upcoming Events post.

Meanwhile, the brackets have been announced for the 2019 Crockett Cup tag team tournament, taking place on 4/27/2019 at Cabarrus Arena in Concord, NC. NJPW will be sending over the team of Yuji Nagata & Satoshi Kojima to this event; one assumed it would have been TenKoji were Tenzan not injured. They will face the recently dethroned ROH World Tag Team champions PCO & Brody King in their matchup. Should Nagata/Kojima win, they will face the winners of The Briscoe Brothers v. The Rock’n’Roll Express. Yes, you read that right. Over in the other block, an ROH team of Herb Gordon & Bandido (poor Bandido) goes up against a CMLL tandem of Stuka Jr. & Guerrero Maya Jr., whilst the War Kings (Jax Dane & Crimson) face off against the winner of a Wild Card Battle Royale that will take place during this show. This event will also have an NWA World’s Heavyweight title defense by Nick Aldis v. Marty Scurll.

Finally, NJPW on AXS has a 2-hour special this week, with matches from G1 Supercard just last weekend. The advertised matches are the IWGP Heavyweight and Intercontinental matches. You can scroll above to see who is in those. Show starts at 8pm EDT / 7pm CDT.

And that’s it. I’m still recovering, so off to bed with this old man. Tour starts Saturday. Happy to be back. Hope you enjoyed the G1 Supercard, and anything else you watched during Mania Weekend. Come back for the Road to Wrestling Dontaku!

#NJPW #new japan pro wrestling #g1 supercard #G1SUPERCARD #Ring Of Honor #the great muta #wrestling dontaku #road to wrestling dontaku #njdontaku #wrestling hinokuni #sengoku lord #Hiroshi Tanahashi #Hiroyoshi Tenzan #Crockett Cup #Yuji Nagata #Satoshi Kojima #njpw on axs #AXS #AXSTV

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