#AND PICK UP ANY FOOD THAT WAS LEFT BY THE PREVIOUS MOVIE GOERS

[bitronic]

his phone doesnt have a screen

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 2: Traitor Jim

From: The Banes of the Ball Series

Pairing: Jimmy Dobyne x Heiress! Reader

Summary: Jimmy’s good at keeping his own secrets, but can he keep yours?

Word count: 2,513

Content/warnings: institutional misogyny, 1920s debutante ball themes, southern speakeasy themes, alcohol consumption, mean!Jimmy (more like defensive, but still), secretive reader, allusions to a a want to disrupt the social structure, cross-dressing?

Author’s Note: So in my research, I found out that this movie universe occurs during the prohibition, so even when they drank in the movie, it was illegal. Therefore, I guess I made an illegal bar scene? Idk, I guess that there were gin distributors in Memphis during this time, so we’re gonna roll with that.

I’d love to hear you’d feedback in all forms! Comments, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated.

Dividers by

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Your invitation to Fisher had brought her back into the social circles, earning a few more opportunities for run-ins through the end of the debutante season. As you opened your ears and walked through the venues, you could tell not many wanted to entertain the young, socially exiled heiress, but from the apparent liking you took to her, they felt her inclusion was an obligation.

Outside of this environment, you were nowhere to be seen by the young men and women of town. That was by design, but for now, you walked through the ball, seeking your next hiding place. For this one, there was an upper level balcony pseudo cut off from the mingling areas by an appetizer table. It had already been picked through after you had made your first set of appearance rounds, making it perfectly unpopulated. You looked down upon the dance floor, counting the minutes, and the songs that would need to pass before you could acceptably leave, off to your more desired….obligations.

In your shroud of curtains and tiered food displays, your eyes wandered over the crowd below. New loves were being formed as men asked for a dance, secrets and gossip shared between spinsters-in-training along the sides, and jokes or plans to obtain the next jar of moonshine whispered amongst the men. Absolute fools. Everyone thought they were so sly, but you read their lips and body language easier than a book. It was almost as if they wanted their plans known, or better yet, spoiled. It wasn’t going to happen at your hand though. You didn’t have need for that right now, but should you, it would be easy to ruin any soul in this dated, yet fancy ballroom.

You turned around to find the punch bowl on the upstairs table. Perhaps if you were lucky, the boys had already spiked it and you wouldn’t have to pull from your own reserve tucked under your dress.

You knew they had gotten to it by taking a single step forward, the smell easily reaching your nose and burning the sensitive hairs. Perfect. You quickly made a cup before heading back to your balcony and looking down among the crowd. Hopefully it was good quality alcohol in the bowl and didn’t make you go blind. How ever could you properly interact in society then? Tragic.

As you sipped, you looked down at the crowd again, seeing the tops of heads flow and weave between each other. No one ever looked up; it was human nature. If you could find an exit route now, it would be your great escape.

As you moved to set down your cup, though, you saw something in the corner of your eye that didn’t fit the patterns and waves formed by the other party-goers. It was a man, stopped in the middle of the dance floor. His bright blue eyes looked up at you, piercing through the foliage and decor that often left you covered. He must have been searching specifically for you.

After your previous conversation with Jimmy Dobyne, you didn’t feel as though there was much to say. Based of the fact that he was looking to catch your gaze, you had figured that he was looking for a read on whether or not you had shared his secret. Evidently, you had not. You were never a fan of loose lips.

You lifted your skirt and ran down the back staircase to the rear door of the mansion. You had planned to leave through there and walk around the front of the house to your car as to not have to encounter anyone else, especially that certain farm boy.

Before you could reach the bottom of the steps, though, you were stopped in your tracks.

“Wonderful to see you this evening, miss.” The blue eyes had come to cut you off and pierce more harshly than before. His entire demeanor was in juxtaposition to his kind words, jaw clenched, gaze hard and unyielding with an unspoken demand. You maintained your formality, though, praying it would serve you well on your way.

“Good evening, James. I apologize, you have just caught me on my way out.” You hurriedly ducked past his shoulder just to be followed through the nearly hidden French doors at the rear of the house. Jimmy followed you out and down the stone steps and into the garden.

“That’s no problem, I was going to ask Fisher to leave soon, as well. I actually wanted to speak to you.”

You walked as fast as you could without reaching a run, getting into the front seat of your car and starting it. Luckily, your chauffeur had taken your bribe to leave you the vehicle, like most other nights, unbeknownst to your family.

“Perhaps another time, James. I really must be going.”

You could see the way his shoulders tensed forward in anger at your deflection of his statements and attempts to ignore. He began to run alongside the car as you weaved around the others in the driveway of the house.

“No. I demand that you stop and speak to me. I want you to never bring up what happened again. It was all fine. Fisher got her earrings back.”

Not from his command, but more due to shock, you slammed on the breaks of the car, causing you to lurch forward and Jimmy to skid to a stop in the gravel. He caught his footing quickly, though, taking the opportunity to open your car door and get in.

“You have no jurisdiction to demand anything of me, Mr. Dobyne. And you well know this is not about the earrings. Now I have somewhere to be, so either you go back to your fiancé, or you deal with me dropping you off in the middle of nowhere. What’ll it be?”

Jimmy closed the door to your car and settled into the passenger seat, looking straight forward. “Drive, go on.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed, continuing down the long road of the manor. You looked briefly over at him before you spoke up.

“I have no interest in becoming your next sexual encounter if that’s why you insist on being here. I’d never do that to Fisher and I most definitely have no desire to be the next Vinnie, who, speaking of which, just sent out invitations for an engagement party. Did you receive one?”

Jimmy’s jaw clenched again as he turned to face you in his seat. “Stop doing that!”

You feigned confusion. Men always believed you never quite understood what they were talking about, anyway. “Doing what?”

“Changing the subject and trying to make me feel bad.”

You simply shrugged, continuing to stare ahead. “I have no desire to make you feel bad. If that’s the way you feel, then I assure you it’s all self-inflicted. So tell me, James. Do you yourself feel bad for your actions? Maybe you ought to repent, or at least tell someone of your dirty little secret. I find it quite distasteful to take a woman’s hand and to not be honest with her. To keep things from her.”

Jimmy scoffed and rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. “You have no place to speak about keeping secrets. I see the way you leave half of these events early. Never sticking around and never to be seen by anyone around town. I’m sure that’s a secret worse than my own.”

Your nostrils flared and your lips tightened. Sure, you taunted him on his private matters, but yours were to remain untouched. He didn’t know what was going on, or technically even if something was going on at all. “Careful where you step, James. I do not have another to care for. And what I do with my free time does not concern you, so I suggest you rethink your attempts at refutal when it comes to me.”

He huffed as you pulled to the side of the road to let him out. You were at the edge of town. Walking or finding a ride to wherever he needed to go shouldn’t be too difficult from here.

“We shouldn’t be too far that you can’t walk back to dear Fishy. Give her my best and do not come looking for trouble again. I am more than happy to greet you politely at gatherings, but your accusations leave a sour taste in my mouth. Good evening, James.”

You drove off and left Jimmy in a cloud of dust before heading to the other side of town. Right about now, the restaurants would be closing, making room for the nightly patrons and gangsters to move through. It was no place for a lady to remain after dark, but to them, you were no lady.

You pulled off near a corn field on the side of a rarely traversed road and opened the trunk of the car. Under a panel, you found your bag and pulled it out, grabbing the trousers and button-down shirt and laying them out over the door. You worked quickly to shuck off your dress before carefully folding it and placing it in the trunk, over the panel. You slipped into the trousers, followed by the leather boots. After shrugging on the shirt, you dug into the pants pocket to pull out a ribbon and pins. You pulled your hair up tightly and tucked it under a cap. Others would have a fit they they saw a woman in this wear, especially you. You were meant to be at a ball, sitting like an ornament of your father’s legacy, not in the slums of the city.

Now, although your family would have called it the slums, it was far from it. It was where the workers hung out. It was where savvy businessmen were making the most of the country’s prohibitory situation. It’s where you were learning everything it might take for your future plans to come to fruition.

You walked up the creaky wooden porch, your head on a swivel as you entered a pawn shop. At least, that’s what it was during the day. You made your way through the shelves and display cases to the curtain in the back, opening it to a bustling bar full of men both young and old.

With your makeup removed and a few light smudges of dirt here and there, your look matched theirs quite well. That was another benefit of staying out of the private eye as much as possible: none of them saw you enough to be able to identify you in this state. You just seemed like another farm worker.

You took your usual seat at the end of the bar, ducking your head to put your focus on the conversations going on around you. This environment gave you a completely different level of information than what your house maids would give you.

Usually, from here, you could catch anything from farmhands, to gin runners, to business men discussing what was going on. The true way the town was running. And that’s exactly what you wanted: an understanding of who was in control of business proceedings.

From your calm demeanor and regular appearance in this environment, you were known, but not much past a pseudonym you had fed them and the fact that you did odd jobs on your family’s estate. That was enough, though. Enough for you to seem unassuming and trust-worthy. Enough for their lips and morals to be loose around you. Enough for you to use very soon for your plans.

Men were stupid and again, you were in awe of it. None of them could recognize you. And for the ones that could? Well, they were already drunk off their asses. Problem solved. That’s how you were able to preserve your pub-dwelling Saturday nights for the foreseeable future.

As your drink was served, you felt a presence come up and sit in the stool next to you. You were used to that, men did anything to strike up a conversation and save themselves from the monotony of their lives. If only they knew how truly monotonous a life was when you weren’t allowed to perform half the duties that they’d spit upon when given the chance. They had so many options, but your empathy is what they wanted, not proof of their lack of hardships. Not yet, at least.

You put all those thoughts aside, though, taking a swallow of your drink before putting on your best smirk to strike up conversation. It was time to get to work.

Except when you turned your head to your left, you weren’t facing any old nobody. Well, to these guys, he would’ve been, but to you, it was someone starting to get on your nerves for invasion of privacy, someone with tumultuous, pained currents, not unlike the rivers run, for eyes: Jimmy Dobyne.

He opened his mouth to speak, but not before you slammed your hand over it while giving him a warning glare. “Careful with your mouth James. I know I wasn’t exceptionally stealthy tonight, but I thought you’d be smart enough to avoid a place like this.”

The bartender came over and you ordered a drink for Jimmy so he’d leave you alone to speak in privacy. “Now think before you speak. You’ve invaded my personal space and business already.”

Jimmy leaned in, speaking to you with anger that you knew came from your constant reminders of his wrongdoings. “You need to stop it with that and just tell me exactly what you know.”

You looked at him, keeping your face even bedsides the slight disbelief in his audacity. “I hold a keen eye, James. Keep your voice down and do be careful of who sees you and to whom you lend your trust.”

You turned back to the bartender to thank him for dropping off Jimmy’s drink.

His fists unclenched just for enough time for him to grab the glass and shove it away from himself.

“I ought to tell your father his daughter is out here disobeying him. A woman like you should not be in a place like this. Drinking much less!” The lowered volume didn’t make his voice any less cutting. You wouldn’t stand for that. You were trying to be nice. It seemed like neither your kind words, nor stern requests seemed to work on him. Perhaps threats were better.

“I ought to tell everyone you’re poor and loose with your belt buckle! But I won’t. Now accept a drink on my tab and sit to casually speak with me before you cause a scene. My my, James. One skill you do not have is subtlety.”

He scoffed before grabbing the glass and drinking it all down in one go, calling the bartender over for another.

“Good. Now listen closely because I’m not speaking above a whisper and you’ll only hear this once. I’ll let you in on some things, and by chance you could even help me, but first, you have to tell Fisher the truth.”

Next >

Bonus A/N: So sugars and carbohydrates are what yeast ferments to create alcohol. The alcohol we consume is ethanol (aka EtOH aka Ethyl Alcohol). Sometimes, though, when done improperly, a byproduct is methanol (aka methyl alcohol, which means it has one less carbon and four less hydrogen atoms, making a smaller and totally different molecule functionally). Methanol has actually been found to make you go permanently blind! That’s why it can be so risky to drink home-brewed alcohols and moonshines. I assume this risk was even higher back in the early 1920s when a lot was bootlegged and they didn’t have many ways to test for the methanol. And therefore, I assume they knew sometimes alcohol made you go blind, but not quite how, which is why I added it here.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly

[cialbi]

Boy With Hope: Lavender - Chapter One

Summary: As you closed your eyes for the last time, the smell of lavender wafted through your nose and a boy with purple wings appeared from above you. Genre: Angst, Romance, Fantasy

Pairings: Angel Hoseok x Reader

Warnings: Language, Suicide Attempt, Depression, Alcoholism

A/N: This is going to be part of a series called “Boy’s With Series.” Hoseok’s story is going to be the first part out of seven. I don’t know what order I’ll do the other boys in, but I already have their themes and such chosen out. So enjoy the prologue! 

⤎Previous

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'Fuck that hurts.'

You buried your face into your pillow, the roaring headache that crashed through your skull roused your sleepy conscious. A faint gust of air blew through your room, tickling your skin and making you shift to find warmth deeper under the covers. From outside you could hear the rush and beeps of cars as they raced by on the city streets and the voices of pedestrians signaled that the world was coming back to life. 

You groaned, rolling over on your side. The throbbing in your head was like a symphony of anguish that blared in your brain as you cracked a sleep-caked lid open.

Neon green numbers flashed through bleary eyes: 7:00am.  

'What happened?'

A little disoriented, it took you a moment to come to. 

You were drinking last night. Something had definitely triggered you... you came home... dropped your keys... tripped over some shit... drank some more... and then....

Oh no. 

What did you do? 

Then, all at once, like a movie reel in your head, you recalled the events in which lead up to now. 

You'd lost your job. 

Again. 

You could practically see the angry face of your boss as he fired you, and you couldn’t help the churning ache of embarrassment that welled in your gut. 

“Unacceptable, Y/N!” He had vociferated. “You’re tardy everyday, you look like a mess and you reek of booze! Collect your things immediately, I don’t want to see you in here ever again!”

Ugh. The shame. 

It was something you should be used to by now, getting fired and all--but alas you didn’t do well with shame. You didn’t do well with any sort of negative emotion, so you had fixed it with the only solution you knew how.

Booze, booze and more booze.

You could smell the murk of the musty bar you had holed into, the horrified expressions of other bar-goers watching you as you downed your fifth drink of the night. You could remember how you stumbled home like a hot mess of sweat and the way your room reeked of garbage and alcohol. 

You sniffed.

Funny.

It doesn't smell so bad now.

Kind of... floral?

Adjusting your position, you gave a grunt of discomfort. There was something poking at your side, so you reached under the covers and searched until your hands clasped around something smooth and cylindrical. You retracted your arm and pulled out the plastic orange pill container, staring at it blankly. 

What was that doing there? 

You rotated it in your hands, the morning sun casting an apricot shadow across your face. Klonopin. When did you....? Weird. You didn't remember picking up your prescription from the drug store. The drug store...

Oh wait.

And then you did.

It was all coming back now. The pills, the wine, the way your heart slowed and your body went limp. The glowing purple lights. What the fuck were those? And a boy, there was a boy floating through the ceiling. You pinched the bridge of your nose.

Damn, what a high. 

So you finally tried to do it, and it looks like you failed. An unfamiliar sensation crawled beneath your skin, causing you to shudder. So much guilt... and so much shame. You didn’t know whether you wanted to cry or scream as you gazed nonchalantly at the little pill bottle, swiping your fingers over the plastic. 

Fuck. 

You really fail at everything.

Even killing yourself.

It was a little sobering, in fact. And you used the word sobering, because you hadn’t expected to wake up the next day. Hadn’t expected to deal with the aftermath or the complicated emotions attached to it. You hadn’t been prepared for it.

Sighing deeply, you ran your fingers through your hair, feeling a bit of chunks and stickiness towards the ends. You eyed the area near your pillow, but it was clean. Again, weird. There was no vomit on your sheets. You sat up, eyes grazed over the white cotton fabric but finding no sign of regurgitated food.

Then you noticed your room. It was completely clean. 

All the garbage, clothes and bottles were gone, and there was a certain sparkliness to your apartment that you hadn't seen in a long time. If it weren't for the little cat statue on your nightstand that your mom had given you for your birthday, you would have sworn you woke up in someone else's house.

Maybe someone broke in? 

You gave a snort. Yeah, right, a burglar that breaks into apartments and cleans them. 

Then, maybe you had cleaned up during your high. You'd done weirder things under the influence--many that didn’t involve clothes--so you couldn't completely write that off as a possibility, right?

A jolt to your muscles had you groan again. A kind of nauseating pain coursed through your body and the raging headache echoed in your ears. Nope. No way. There was no way your body could have even moved in the state that it was in.

So cross that off the list.

Ok so, a burglar broke into your apartment, stole all your garbage and stinking clothes, then cleaned up the place and left? That sounded even more ridiculous. You didn't have many valuables, and you couldn't imagine that anyone would touch your clothing by how bad they smelled. An ordinary robber would have taken one look at your place and slammed the door.

You rubbed your temples, your mind too foggy to think anymore coherent thoughts. Ugh. Whatever. I feel like shit, I can’t think like this. 

The sudden need to be clean overtook you, so you swung your legs over the side of your bed and stood, deciding on a shower and maybe some food to help wash out the toxins that were swirling around in your stomach. If you even had any edible food left in your kitchen. Your stomach gurgled in anticipation.

Yeah, some food and a shower. After that, you could figure this shit out.

Shoulders slumped, you padded over to your bathroom and flicked on the lights, wincing at the immediate image of yourself reflected in the mirror above your sink. 

You were unnaturally pale, almost green, and your long, tangled hair was sticking up in all directions. There were splotches of red stained into your baggy white t-shirt, which made it look like you had murdered someone with a knife. But what was most prominent were the swollen black bags sunken deeply beneath your eyelids. 

Wow, suicide does wonders for the complexion. You joked darkly to yourself, pinching your cheeks a little too hard before opening your bathroom cabinet to find a towel. 

When you couldn’t find one, you cursed quietly and slammed the lean, rectangular door shut. Your stomach growled again and the sickness followed.  Fuck the shower, let’s go eat something. You were almost out of shampoo anyway. 

Exiting the bathroom, you mused to yourself about the options of what you could eat. What you were really craving was something spicy, maybe some instant noodles with sriracha--though, you knew for today that would be nothing more than a culinary fantasy. 

Spending most of your money on booze and take-out, you didn’t go to the grocery store often. Hell, you barely scraped enough dough to pay the bills, and now you didn’t have a job to support either expenses. You’d be lucky if there was even a piece of rotting fruit left in your fridge. 

By now, your stomach was screaming at you for some type of sustenance, so with low expectations, you dragged your feet towards your kitchen. Rotten fruit it is. 

You’ve had worse meals. 

As you approached, you noticed the light was on in the kitchen. A yellow glow illuminated from beneath the doorframe, mixing with the sunshine that poured in from outside. Huh. That’s strange. You definitely remembered the pitch black of your room when you stumbled in last night.

Then you smelled it. 

The faint scent of bacon wafted through your nose and your tummy gave an approving growl. The nausea, on the other hand, poked at your gut and graciously reminded you of the severe pain you were in. The contrasted feelings almost made you forget that there shouldn't be any smells coming from your kitchen seeing as you had been in bed, not in your kitchen, and most certainly not cooking. 

The smell was followed by a clattering of pans, and a hushed “dammit!” could be heard from inside. 

You froze.

Someone was still here. 

And they were cooking in your kitchen.

Slowly, as to not make a sound, you inched towards your bedside table and picked up your desk lamp. How that could possibly defend you from an intruder, who knows, but it was all you had ready and available. Honestly, you had no idea in hell what you were doing--no one’s ever broken into your apartment before--but you were hoping for the best. So you raised the lamp like a baseball bat and tip-toed towards the door of your kitchen. It was open a smidge, and the sound of cheerful humming seeped out through the crack.

A burglar that cleans rooms, makes breakfast and has a love for Mariah Carey. Huh.

You peaked around the door, gripping your desk lamp until your knuckles whitened and took a deep breath, preparing yourself to confront a burly, black-clad thug. Maybe with some tattoos and a ski-mask. Or, worst case scenario, a gun. The thought heightened your pulse. 

Hesitantly, you took a small step inside. 

There was only so much that could have prepared you for what you actually saw in your kitchen.

A strikingly gorgeous, tall looking man with bright orange hair was dancing around the room, flipping some fried eggs in one of your blue, non-stick frying pans. Around his waist, your frilly pink apron was tied in a neat little bow, which contrasted humorously with his toned muscles and manly build. He looked lost in his own little world, lashes cast downward as his lips made music and, for a moment, you were completely enchanted. 

He's a friggen intruder! Bash his head in while you have the chance! You internally screamed, though you couldn't find it in yourself to move.

Without looking at you, the orange-haired, completely white-clad burglar cracked a smile. "Good, you're awake!"

Startled, you stepped back and raised the lamp in defense, your pulse rising to an infinite level.

He put down the pan and turned off the stove gas, rummaging through your cupboard for a plate. He was acting as if he lived here, knowing where all your things were, and for a second you wondered if he was a family friend, maybe someone your parents sent to make sure you weren't dead. Though, no-one in your family had a key to your apartment and you would most certainly remember knowing someone with such a beautiful and distinct face.

The mysterious, humming man plated the eggs and forked some bacon on top, already cooked and perfectly greasy. He turned towards you, grinning a smile that made you blink. He’s got the sunniest smile you had ever seen. The combination of his smile, his sparkling eyes and the elegant lines of his face disoriented you. 

He’s really gorgeous.

And really tall.

And moving right towards you.

Backing up, you swiped your eyes over his entirety. You wouldn't stand a chance in hell against this guy. He may not be burly or tattooed, but he was about two times your weight, and had at least a foot on you in height. Oh yeah and he wasn’t hung-over as fuck. All he would have to do was shove you with one hand and you would finally meet your maker. 

Alarmed, you raised the lamp as high as you could and pointed it at him threateningly. You did your best to look big and scary, but you knew you probably looked like nothing more than a scared little animal cowering from its prey.

“Hey, it’s ok.” He cooed at you. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

"Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing in my apartment?" You hissed. Your arms were shaking and your voice squeaked a few octaves too high. This was going great.

He looked at you, then at the lamp clasped in your hands, then back at you. Then he smiled again, eyes squinting sweetly.

"My name's Hoseok. You must be hungry!” He wiggled the plate of food. “Here, I made breakfast." His voice was so cheerful that it took you aback. Obviously, he was not at all threatened by you or your weapon of choice. You lowered the lamp slightly and sniffed. It smelled fucking great.

You eyed the plate of food, your stomach betraying you by letting out a monsterous growl. Then the nausea followed and you groaned.

His face fell. "Hmm, I thought I took away most of the pain, but I guess it wasn't enough."

The mysterious intruder turned to place the plate of food on your kitchen table, then whirled back around and began a slow walk towards you, hands outstretched.

"Stay back!" You warned, raising the lamp again and shaking it in his face.

The orange-haired man lowered his hands in defense. "Just let me fix it." He said, continuing his approach.

You looked at the lamp and then back at him, giving him a once over and weighing your options. You could try and land a hit, hoping to create enough time to make a break for it, but also risking angering him, or you could cut your losses now and run. 

The latter sounded good. 

Squealing in fear, you dashed back into your bedroom, ready to burst out the front door of your apartment and run like a mad-woman until you found some help. But another shot of nausea mixed with fatigue had you hurdling belly first onto the floor. Your knee slammed hard against the wooden surface and sent the lamp skidding out of your hands. 

“Fuck!” You cried, curling in on yourself. Your kneecap burned with a searing, fiery pain. 

“Are you ok?” His voice came from above you, and when you looked up, you were met by his chocolate brown eyes staring down at you with worry. His beautifully sculpted legs were like skyscrapers, ascending from the ground right in front of your face, and you wondered how fast he could run if you tried to escape now.

"Fuck no! Fuck you! Fuck!” You yelped, forcing yourself up and scrambling gracelessly into the safety of your bed covers. Your knee screamed at you, throbbing angrily at the unwelcomed movement, and suddenly you found yourself undoubtedly screwed. Even if you tried now, you definitely couldn’t outrun this attractive, long-limbed man.

"Don't come any closer!" You cried, the rush of adrenaline making you dizzy. Call the police! Gotta call the police! Or someone, someone that might care that I’m in trouble. 

You found it a little funny. Just hours ago, all you had wanted to do was die, swallowed a whole flipping pill bottle to do it. But now that the perfect execution of death had appeared right before you, all you had been trying to do since was find some way to live through it. Irony is a bitch.

He inched towards you carefully with his hands raised. "Look, I know this must seem..." He paused, fishing for the right word, "...peculiar. But I promise I mean you no harm."

"Tell that to the police!" You screeched, combing your bed for your phone but came up empty. 

Oh. 

Yeah.

Your eyes widened. Shit. It was in your pants pocket, which you had flung somewhere across your room last night. Looking around frantically, you remembered your clothes had mysteriously disappeared. "Where are my clothes? What did you do with them?"

He lowered his hands, biceps flexing deliciously. "Ah! No, don't worry, they're right over there!" He pointed to the corner of your room where your pink, plastic laundry basket was filled to the brim with neatly folded clothes. "I'm sorry I didn't ask first, but seeing as you were sleeping for the past two days, I took the liberty of washing them. They were quite smelly. You really should--”

“Shut up!” You exclaimed, cutting him off completely. I’m sorry, what did he say?? The clothing aside, your eyes almost popped out of your head. "Two days!? Wait. You've been in my room for two days?” You felt sick. Your head began to spin and your stomach clenched as ripples of pain ripped through your muscles. You fell into yourself, clutching your scalp so hard it could have bled, and let out a long, guttural “fuuuuucckkkkkk.”

"Hey, let me help you! I can take the pain away!" He stepped forward, his hands stretched out again towards you, his fingers almost close enough to brush against the skin of your wrist.

You recoiled away from him. "And how could you possibly do that?"

He sighed, looking exhausted. "Just trust me."

Biting back a laugh, you snapped at him. "Trust you? A strange man who broke into my apartment, touched my stuff without permission and claims he can just magically take away my pain? No way, you’re a total psycho!"

A totally hot psycho.

Another wave of nausea swept through you and you grabbed your stomach, trying to keep your insides from exploding out onto the mattress. Then, faster than your mind could comprehend, he was suddenly right beside you, knelt with one knee at your bedside, his eyes pleading.

"I can tell it really hurts. Please, let me help you." From this distance you can see how deep chocolate his eyes are, like perfectly round cocoa beans swimming with genuine concern. Time seemed to slow, and you found yourself enchanted by him again.

It should be a crime for anyone to look this good.

Are you kidding me!? It’s a crime for him to be here in the first place!

All the signs were pointing to 'crazy guy,' but on top of your immense trepidation, your body was rejecting you and your will to fight back began to flutter away. You curled yourself up so tight that not even a crowbar could ply you apart. 

Fine, he could kill you. You were ready for it. 

You shut your eyes tight as he reached for your fetal form. This was it, this was how you were going to die; by the hands of a majestic intruder who makes eggs and bacon and says he has magic powers. What a way to go, eh? You tried to imagine your family's faces. Would they even miss that you were gone? Would they cry for you? Would anyone care that you were dead? You waited. And waited.

But nothing happened.

You peaked an eye open, but he was just sitting there, a single hand in front of your face, so close that you could see the lines that ran across the skin of his palm. He looked at you with that oddly cheerful expression, the ends of his orange bangs kissing the tips of his long, voluminous lashes. "I'm going to touch you now." 

He didn’t give you a chance to respond as he abruptly placed his hand around your forehead. An extraordinary tingling sensation raced through you, a kind of warm feeling like those first few minutes of soaking in a scalding hot bath. You felt the pain lift from your aching bones, like his hand was soaking up the anguish and leaving you with nothing but bliss and relaxation.

Then he removed his soft grip, a satisfied smile gracing his pretty pink lips.

"How's that?" He asked, sitting back.

You blinked, trying to register what just happened. The pain was gone, and all you could feel was a sense of clarity and a warmth that pooled comfortably in your once flippant stomach. 

As it all began to sink in, you freaked. Like totally, completely, flipping freaked out. "What the fuck? Oh my god, what was that? WHAT WAS THAT?" You screeched, slapping his hand away and scooching back into the corner of your bed.

He looked a little hurt. "It's a gift I have." He explained matter-of-factly. "I'm an angel."

You blinked at him.

Excuse me, what?

Hello crazytown. Toot toot, the psycho train just arrived at the station, number of passengers: one incredibly hot, orange-haired mad-man. 

You laughed besides yourself. "An angel? You gotta be shitting me! You expect me to believe that? Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm Hoseok, I told you." He answered.

You brought your knees closer, looking him square in the eyes. "Ok, Hoseok the angel. What psychward did you escape from?" Oh let me guess. "Heaven?"

Hoseok chuckled at that. "Not exactly."

The deep-cut white V-neck he was wearing dipped dangerously low around his neck, exposing a well defined collar-bone and a hint at a sculpted chest. His body was littered with silver jewelry that jingled with every slight movement he made; a detailed silver cross that dangled from around his neck, and another, simpler, one from his left ear.  Man this guy is full of it.

"What are you doing here?" You repeat.

Hoseok gave a faint sigh. "Isn't it obvious already?" He touched the cross around his neck and thumbed it with belletic fingers. "I'm here to help you."

"Yeah, you said that already. Help me with what?" You snapped.

All you had wanted to do was die peacefully.

And now you're stuck with this shit.

Where the fuck is this guys social worker?

You were suddenly feeling pretty grumpy, but somehow no longer threatened.

Leaning forward, Hoseok touched your hand softly, the little chained bracelets around his wrist glinting against the light. "You've lost all hope in your life, and I'm here to help you find that hope again." Well that the hell do you say to that?

What felt like hours passed as you kept your eyes locked to his, searching for any sign of insanity or deception, but found none. The smoothness of his ivory skin and his complacent expression revealed no ill intentions and for the first time you felt yourself give in to him a little. He was so earnest, you actually trusted he wasn’t here to hurt you, and the warmth of his skin on yours elated a sort of calm you hadn’t felt in a... well god knows when.

Even so, you retracted your hand from his hold.

"I don't need help." You mutter, almost to yourself. "I'm doing just fine, thank you."

Hoseok frowned. His elegant features looked wrong with such an expression. "It certainly didn't look like it Y/N."

You gasped, your stranger-danger reflexes kicking into high gear. It was like you had completely forgot you were talking to a total nut-case. "How do you know my name?" 

"Are we going to do this all day?" He mumbled, a slight pout replacing his previous grimace. "I told you, I'm an angel. Your angel to be exact."

"And what? Does being an angel give you super psychic powers?" You spat back.

He considered this for a moment, but shook his head, unfazed by your tone of voice. "No. I was instructed to find and aid a Y/N L/N. That's you."

What the hell does that even mean? 'Instructed to find you?' And what? Break into your home, spew some crazy nonsense and scare the living daylights out of you? You sneered, pivoting in your seat to create some distance. "And who instructed you to do that? God?"

Hoseok looked thoughtful, wrinkling his nose and gazing up at the ceiling. "No... not exactly." 

Seriously, who the fuck is this guy? 

You took a moment, clenching your eyes shut and rubbing your head which had begun to ache again. "Ok, so, let's say---for a second--that I believe you, which I don't, but for your sake let's say I do. Why in the hell would anyone send an angel to help me?"

Hoseok launched forward, his face inches from your own and his good looks nearly blinding you. The silver cross around his neck beat against his chest as he exhaled, examining your face closely. His features were scrunched in a look of curiosity and rejection. "So you don't believe me?"

You pulled away from him, using your tiny hands to shove his face a safe distance from your own. "No! Of course not! Do you understand how crazy you sound?"

With a thrust of his wrist, he shot himself into a standing position, towering over you like a giant. "Ok. Hold on."

“Hold on for what?” You asked, eyebrow raised.  

“I’ll prove it to you.” 

You didn't know what to expect, maybe some arm flapping, or some more weird dancing--you might not have complained if he took off his shirt. What you didn't expect were for two huge, lavender wings to sprout from his back, unfolding to occupy nearly half of your tiny apartment bedroom. They glimmered iridescently, almost see-through. Little orbs of shining light poured from his chest as he turned in a circle so you could get a good look at him.

"Holy shit." Were the only words you could manage as you stared, transfixed.

The strange dream you had suddenly crashed into your brain as you remembered the glowing purple lights that poured into your room, and the floating boy that had descended from your ceiling. 

‘Don’t give up yet!’ He had called out to you. 

There’s a cool sensation against your skin as you recall the vast, open body of water that you had stood in. The one where lavender grew from beneath and the smell had overwhelmed your senses.  

That was a dream, wasn’t it? 

‘There’s so much to live for.’ 

That voice did sound like Hoseok. 

‘I’m here now.’

Then, the wings vanished, folding back into his body with an enormous flap. Little pearls of glitter dispersed throughout the air and a couple translucent, purple feathers came to rest on the floor below. Hoseok beamed at you as if he just won a game of monopoly.

"Do you believe me now?"

"Oh my god." You blinked.

"Again. Not exactly."

"I get it now." Your voice was quiet, but Hoseok heard you.

His eyes sparkled in excitement, grinning ear to ear. "You do?"

You nod slowly. "I do."

Throwing his hands up in elation, Hoseok's eyes grew so squinty with happiness that they were merely little slivers of black eyelashes. "That's great! So now you'll let me help you?"

You ignored his question. "I did it. I really did it."

He frowned, lips dipping in confusion. "Wait. Did what?"

You sighed, raking a hand through your vomity, unwashed hair. "I'm dead. I'm actually dead."

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Next⤏

A/N

Completely unedited. I'm sorry! I'll go back through the chapters as I go and edit them. I know it needs... more. But I hope you enjoyed it!

Cial

[imnotwolverine]

Dear Bear

Henry Cavill x OC Lisa - multi-chapter fic

Author’s note: Oh this chapter is so sad. I’m sorry - but could not keep it from you all the same. Also, on a side-note: I’ve finally created a masterlist and baptised this storyline to go by the name ‘Tea for Two’. 

Word count: 4.706

Disclaimer: angst, sadness, fluff, party drugs

---

This is part 7 of the Tea for Two story.

Find the masterlist here.

--

< Go back to part 6

November 1st. I held the paper calendar in my hand, looking at a picture of the Witcher crew from past year. Everyone happily gathered around a large buffet celebrating Thanksgiving. It did not take long to spot Henry on the far right, looking overly excited, his arms raised in joy while looking straight at the camera. Not surprising, since he was a foodie for sure. The more food, the merrier the Henry. My finger traced his over excited face as I let out a sigh, folding back the previous month and hanging the calendar back on our office wall.

It had been exactly 3 weeks since I last saw him and I hated every single day of it. Not only had it been crazy busy at work now production was nearing its end (the time pressure to finish the season was on and the press tour had started), it was also hard to find the mental peace and quiet to keep contact with each other. A few minute calls here and there is all we could manage in between our tight schedules. Not enough to really, really talk. And I fully understood that this was just what it would be like sometimes, when dating Henry. It would mean I would have to miss him. Having to miss him, a lot.

I sighed again while plopping down on my chair, brushing my fingers through Kal’s thick fur. He was too fast asleep to even care, yet I was glad to have him there. Henry had left him with me, since it was more peaceful for Kal to not have to travel everyday. Besides, it was good for me to have something so dear to Henry near me at all times. In these three weeks Kal and I had become best buddies, for sure. We found a rhythm of him sleeping next to my side of the bed, waking up with morning cuddles, going for a walk, then eat breakfast together. Next we’d take a cab to work, and he’d be sticking to his side by my feet (at my desk or on set) until we’d get back home again, followed by his big walk, dinner, some working out or reading and.. back to bed. Rinse and repeat.

I sent a picture of Kal sleeping at my feet to Henry, followed by a heart emoji. The message didn’t come through. He probably had bad cell reception again. ‘HEEYyy, I was thinking.’ My colleague awoke me from my intense phone-screen-staring. I looked up. ‘Hmm?’ I said. ‘You know. It’s Friday. We’re off tomorrow. How ‘bout we go out for some drinks. Just a..girls night out?’ My colleague pouted her lips in a pleading look. I laughed half-arsed. ‘Ange, I don’t know..I’m quite..tired actually.’ ‘Oh come on! You sound like an old hag. Besides, Henry’s in Asia now, so he’ll be sleeping by the time you get off. Let’s just have ONE drink. Come on!’ Ange, or Angelica as her full name goes, nodded her head excitedly, in hope that her bobbing head would convince me to also nod in agreement. I looked back at my laptop screen, noticing another 532 unread emails, realising there was no winning any of these fights. Be it working all night, or going for that one drink. ‘Alright then.’ I nodded, shrugging in defeat. ‘GREAAAT. Oh my god I found this great bar that just opened. Such great cocktails. And there’s this..’ She rattled on, making me realise I sure had turned into a bit of a homebird over the past year. In previous years I wouldn’t have hesitated about going out whenever someone suggested it. No matter how busy the workweek, I would always love myself some dancing and sipping on half decent wine. Perhaps it’d be a good thing to go for a night out on the town.

—

Ange came to pick me up at my hotel room. We were just two floors apart, but it was still a sweet gesture. I opened the door, finding her standing there in some very slinky deep blue minidress and dark eye make-up, her waist-long dark hair falling sleekly around her curvy figure. ‘Well, hello minxy.’ I laughed, letting her in. I almost felt underdressed in my simple midi-length black dress with halter neck. She smiled a cheeky grin, then in turn looked me up and down. ‘You don’t look so bad yourself girl.’ She purred, immediately striding towards my small fridge. ’Help yourself.’ I said, already knowing full well she was about to pour us some generous glasses of wine. She came back pressing a glass of rosé in my hands, then plopped down on the small sofa. ‘You know. Perhaps it’s better. Not having any men around. Then we can have some..real..fun!’ She raised up her glass in cheers. I joined her in the sitting corner, sitting down on a small pouf and clinked glasses with her. ‘Do you really feel you can have no fun with men around?’ I asked, sniffling, before taking a large sip of wine.

‘Naaa.. They always have a motive. Double intentions. Blaa.’ She stuck out her tongue before also taking a large swig of the wine. ‘So. Are you still dating that Joseph guy?’ I asked, looking at her as she pulled down her obnoxiously short hemline that kept creeping up. She smiled. ‘I think me and Joseph are…done..for now. Maybe for the odd bit of fun. But he just REALLY wasn’t my type.’ ‘And what is your type then..?’ ‘Oh don’t bother. No men tonight! Just us, ladies, wanting to have a good time, okay?’ She clinked her glass against mine again, stretching out her long neck while smiling a victorious smile. And honestly, I hoped that would be true. The way I knew Ange, there was very little chance she would not, at some point during the night, get desperate for some attention. Attention she’d eventually seek from some tall dark stranger with just the same double intentions. It’d be just another Joseph guy. Another guy who’d disappoint her, pushing her to the point she’d become even more desperate and insecure.

‘Yea..let’s just have some fun.’ I winked, pushing away those thoughts and taking another sip of wine while seeing she had already nearly finished her glass.

—

The club Ange had chosen was, well, interesting. It was Berlinesque in mood. Dark, neon-lit and gritty with lots of bare concrete and sinister looking hipster folk afoot. The music was great though. Deep bass tones that tore through your whole body like a heartbeat, strumming melodies that made your hips shake and balkan-esque folk tunes were thrown in the mix for good measure. We ordered two dark and stormies and wandered to a corner of the club, casually dancing and giggling at some of the other party goers that were obviously a bit further in their drinks. It felt a bit like that matrix club scene, the lights glimmering a green hue over the sweaty, almost gimpy dressed people.  

‘This place feels like a movie set of its own.’ I laughed in her ear. She nodded, sipping her drink, laughing beguilingly. ‘Lots of famous people come here.’ She returned, having to lean into me to make herself heard over the loud beats. ‘Haa..’ I said, looking around me to see if I recognised anyone. No familiar faces. I shrugged. ‘Guess not tonight.’ She took another large swig of her drink, twirling around in happiness. ‘I love this music. I love this!’ She exclaimed, almost pouring some of her drink on the floor while raising her arms. I laughed, following her while she moved onto the dance floor.

We squeezed our bodies through the dancing crowd. The bouncing, sultry bodies around me made me drink with great haste, not wanting to spill any of it on the floor. ‘Another?’ Ange gestured, holding up her not-yet-finished drink. I shrugged. ‘Let me get this round.’ I said, winking at her. She nodded, immediately turning her attention to a handsome man standing next to her. Oh gods. It has already started, I thought, quickly forcing my way to the bar, in order to get back to her as quickly as possible. The bar tender however was more then a little occupied. I leaned against the sticky edge of the bar, looking at the cocktail list hanging on the far back wall.

‘Hello there sugar.’ A deep voice rumbled in my ear. I looked around. A man that could best be described as a balkan viking was leaning into me, smirking a devilish smile. Slightly tanned skin, a beard and brushed back hair that fell over a crisp white shirt. I squinted my eyes at him, deciding what action best to take. ‘You know, you’re cute and all, but.. I’m not interested.’ I said, turning my attention back to the board with chalked-on cocktail names. ‘And you know, you shouldn’t be so mean to me.’ He said, leaning even closer. ‘..Or you might just get set-up..’ His body pushed further into me as his hand painfully wrapped around my neck as he pushed his bearded lips against mine. I instinctively tried to pull away, but before I could even think of such a thing, I saw a large flash. FUCK. NO. FUCK this shit. Photograph. Fuck. I didn’t quite know what to do once he let me go, my cheek already sore from his painful grasp. I gasped, looking from the filthy viking, back to his photographing accomplice. ‘What is wrong with you?!’ I scolded, my voice slightly trembling. The viking man crossed his arms. ‘Oh sugar, no worries. I have a DEAL for you.’

My eyes quickly moved towards the bar tender. He hadn’t seen a thing. To the door man in the far back. Too far away. Fuck. Then I turned around, looking for Ange. And… There was no Ange. Oh no, shit, fuck, no. I quickly grasped for my phone, texting Ange, keeping half an eye on the two smirking idiots in front of me. ‘Where you at?’ I texted. She didn’t respond. No, no, no… My eyes flashed back at the two men, still grinning menacingly, slowly leaning closer towards me. I felt myself almost pant with worry. It couldn’t be this bad right? I was just overreacting. This was nothing. These idiots were just drunk. And Ange probably just went to the toilet. The toilets. I let my gaze fly over my shoulder to the bathroom sign. I turned back towards the men. ‘You know what. I’ll hear your deal in a bit, I really have to go to the toilet. If you’ll excuse me.’ I quickly squeezed myself through a group of drunk men whom were trying to order some beers to get out of the reach of the viking and his henchman, hastily making my way to the toilets. Thankfully there was no queing line.

‘Ange? You here?!’ I exclaimed, offering an apologetic look at some of the girls who gave me a begrudging look while they plastered on some more make-up. No Ange. Dammit. I grasped my phone again. She still hadn’t responded. I looked under the bathroom stalls, seeing if I recognised her feet. Nope. Shit. Dammit! I quickly made my way back to the dance floor, only then recognising her in the crowd. She was surrounded by a whole pack of men. Oh come on Ange, not cool. I squeezed myself in between the men, grasping her arm. She turned around, a wide, slow grin on her face. ‘What?’ She said slightly annoyed. I noticed her eyes were a bit strange, unfocussed. I looked her in the eye. ‘Did you …take drugs?’ I asked, raising my eyebrows. She slurrily laughed. ‘WhaAAATT?!’ She exclaimed, thinking it funny. ‘What what what what…’ She lulled.

‘Ange.’ I folded my hands around her cheeks, trying to make her look at me. ‘We need..to go.. okay?’ Her eyes glazed over as she fell over forwards into my arms. I looked at the men around us. They did not seem to care, they just kept laughing. And it was only now that I noticed how they were touching her, groping her actually. One of their hands firmly squeezing her ass. I gasped. What the ..fuck..was going on. I shot the men a most menacing look as I dragged a half-conscious Ange to a more quiet corner of the club, out of their grasp. Thankfully they didn’t follow.

She was surprisingly heavy as she leaned into me. ‘Whaat….’ She mumbled once more, having difficulty even looking at me. Did someone lace her drink? She surely couldn’t get drunk like this, this fast, right? I desperately pinned her against my body, leaning against the wall for support, then flipped out my phone again. Uber. No rides available at this moment. Oh. Come on. What was this place even. Google. The page kept reloading while I tried to look for a local taxi company. My eyes desperately flew across the room, interlocking with the luring looks of the viking and his accomplice again. I felt tears burn behind my eyes. Okey. I couldn’t fix everything, I guess. But I had to get Ange out of here. Yes. With all my might I dragged her wobbling, half asleep body through the sweating mass of dancing bodies. It seemed like nobody noticed us. Nobody voluntarily moved and it felt like hours before I finally had managed to coach us back to the entrance. I picked up our jackets and after what seemed like days, we got back outside.

The night was freezing cold and gloomy, the stars veiled by thick grey clouds while the occasional gush of rain drops blew in our faces. Ange had fallen asleep by now. A drug induced, hopefully not too uncomfortable, sleep. She was breathing steadily against my chest as we sat on a bench near a bus stop. It’d be another 45 minutes before the next night line bus would stop here, but it was all I could figure out at this point and time. I shivered into my jacket as I squeezed Ange tightly against me, making sure she continued to breath by keeping my left hand on her pulse. With my right hand I opened my phone again. 2.15 am. It wasn’t even that ridiculously late, but it sure felt like it. What time would it be for Henry? 6 hours later. That means… He might be up. Should I text him? I hesitated, opening Whatsapp and noticing I wasn’t the only one thinking that.

Henry is typing…

Morning dear. You’re probably sleeping right now. But look at this *a picture of a large breakfast he had made himself* Made me and my team some breakfast, thought you’d be proud of me ;) I miss you, i miss your cooking, i miss being with you. Give Kal a good hug from me and enjoy your Saturday <3

My lip started to tremble and I felt my eyes sting as long overdue tears started rolling hotly over my ice cold cheeks.

I miss you too :( so so much. :( :( :(

I sent back with half frozen hands.

Can’t sleep?

He responded. I snickered sadly, realising it’d be weird for me to respond so soon, in the middle of the night.

Actually having a seriously messed up night :/

I typed, hesitating to send it. I looked back at Ange and tried to figure what was best. Not tell him? It’s not like he could do anything about it, other then get worried sick. I knew he’d do that. I knew he’d get fed up and feel bad all day. I sighed, deleting the message again. I looked at my screen, thinking of what to type.

You okay babe?

He typed. I instantly felt more tears billow over my cheeks. Oh how I missed him. He had seen me type, then remove it again. Best just come clean. He was no fool. No secrets. I had to tell him.

Having a messed up night. Was going out for drinks with Ange at a club. No fun though. Some idiot laced her drink. Another idiot forced himself upon me :( going home now.

I pressed send and it took about a millisecond before he called me. I answered.

‘Sweetheart..’ I heard his low voice, alongside his footsteps on a stone floor as he probably moved away from his crew whom were now munching away on that breakfast. A door closing. I felt my lips tremble, and decided to just, wait a moment. ‘Sweetheart are you okay?’ He continued. I shook my head no, my lip trembling even more fiercely. ‘..It’ll be okay…’ I said quietly, feeling more tears well up. He could hear me cry. I could hear him choke up in turn. Had he ever even seen me cry? I don’t think he did. At best I’ve had a grumpy day when he was around. No crying though. I felt even more guilty. ‘Are you safe?’ He finally said, his voice laced with worry. ‘I’m safe. Just waiting for the bus.’ ‘Tell me what happened. Is Ange with you? Are there people with you?’ His words tumbled out, making me feel how confused and worried he was. I felt so bad for even telling him. Poor Henry…

‘I’m sorry for crying. Don’t worry. I am safe.’ I sniffled softly, taking another shivery breath. ‘..And Ange is with me, asleep. There’s a few people sitting near us. The bus should be here in a little while.’ I muttered. ‘Don’t be sorry sweetie. Oh..’ I could hear his mind race from the other side of the line. I could hear that door crack open again as someone called for him. ‘I’m sorry guys, can’t join..please.’ His voice sounded tight. The door closed. I could hear him breath out, making me imagine how he’d probably be standing in the hall of his temporary apartment, hesitating at what to say, the phone lingering in his hand. ‘Henry?’ I asked. ‘Yes baby.’ He immediately answered. ‘I’m a big girl. I can handle myself. Please don’t beat yourself up on this.’ I said, trying to keep my voice level. The tears had faded by now, and I was glad I didn’t have to look into those big blue eyes of his. Those surely would have cracked the roaring storm of emotions right open again. We were both quiet for a moment. Until I finally realised what was happening. He was crying. I could hear his muffled cry on the other side of the phone. Oh..no…sweet bear..

My eyebrows knitted together as my eyes drifted to some of the other drunk folk that were leaning on the pavement, waiting for the bus as well. They were not even remotely interested in my call, instead swigging down some more booze from a small drinking container. I drew in a deep breath. ‘Hey bear.’ I said gently, a silent tear rolling down my cheek. ‘Remember the day we met? ..that very humid, sweaty morning in the LA hills? Hmm..I was very much used to being alone then. Solving my own shit. But I guess that changed once I heard Kal panting in those bushes. It all changed when I rang that phone number on his tag. It all changed when I met… you.’ I spoke quietly, reminiscing that moment. I heard him break into even more tears. ‘Henry.’ I continued, ‘I knew that no matter how hard we’d try, we’d sometimes be apart. And it’s hard. And it sucks..’

‘…I miss you so much.’ He finally breathed into the phone, his voice shaky and fragile. ‘I miss you too.’ I said, looking down at Ange as she was quietly sleeping against my chest. I took another deep breath as I heard his breathing also calm a bit. Dear Henry…I thought. Then I heard that darn door open again. ‘You alright mate?’ A voice sounded. More silence, then the door closing again. ‘Please forgive me.’ He finally uttered, quietly. ‘What?’ I asked, not sure what he meant. ‘Forgive me.’ He whispered. ‘What should I forgive you for?’ My voice felt empty. ‘That I make you go through all this. That we have to be apart because of my..work….’ He drew a deep breath. ‘..Fuck this shit..’ He ended quietly. ‘Henry. Bear. That is life. There is naught to forgive. Please bear. I love you. Please hold on.’ I felt shivers run down my spine. Was this how we’d end? The thing that would break us apart? More tears started to well up in my eyes as I heard him cry through the phone. I couldn’t manage any more words, my lip trembling from both the icy cold and my emotions. We were both quiet for a long moment, the only sounds reaching my ears being the draws of shivery breaths as his crying tempered down. My heart was bursting with pain and fear. Please, don’t break up with me. Please please please.

’Never.’ I heard his voice. ‘What?’ I stammered. ‘I would never break up with you.’ He said, his voice more clear then it had been this whole phone call. I realised, belatedly, that I had spoken my thoughts out loud. I closed my eyes. In a way I felt a bit more at ease, but I also felt so very helpless. I wanted to hug him, kiss away his tears, crawl away in his strong arms. I took another shivery breath. His crying had stopped, I think, as his breathing sounded more calm. ‘Babe..’ He started, hesitating. ‘Henry?’ My heartbeat rushed in my chest. ‘..thank you for telling me. Thank you for trusting me.’ His voice sounded calm and honest. ‘Why..but..of course I trust you..’ Why would he say that? ‘I’ve gotten so used to people hiding their issues from me, because they’re scared it’s too much for me. I care about you. I want to know what’s going on in your life, in your head. I really do.’ He spoke gently. I sucked in a deep breath, a bit overcome with those words. With exes I had often hidden away my feelings and not spoken of my experiences, because I felt embarrassed or simply that it wasn’t a good moment. In the end there barely ever was a good moment and I distanced myself from them until I was more of a mom to them, then a girlfriend. Henry’s words struck a cord I didn’t even know was strung so tightly in my chest. It had snapped, just like that.

‘You still there?’ He asked. ‘Yea. Uh. Sorry. I guess I’ve never had someone say that to me before…hmm.’ I smiled meekly. ‘You are the best boyfriend I’ve ever had I think.’ I said, feeling little pangs of joy in my stomach as I heard him chuckle softly. ‘And you..by far the best girlfriend. I don’t want to lose you dear. Please know that…’ His voice swam in my head as my attention was drawn to a bus pulling up to the bus stop. ‘Hen..bear..I’ve got to go. The bus is here. Love you.’ I hung up the phone, awkwardly pushing it back in my pocket before hoisting up Ange, who was still very much knocked out.

At the hotel I hadn’t even bothered to get Ange to her room, instead plopping her on my bed and falling almost instantly asleep besides her, clothed and all. It was about 8 am when I was awakened by an irregularly buzzing phone next to my head. I drowsily looked up, noticing a whole bunch of messages that were popping up. I sat up, seeing Ange had turned on her side, still sleeping. I opened the messages. Long story short. Tickets. He had managed to get me off the schedule for some meetings I’d be having this week and gotten me plane tickets to a few of the next destinations he’d be flying to. Followed with the text. ‘I thought you could maybe answer all those emails in an airplane too?’ I smiled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, before taking a better look at the messages and emails. DARN. First plane would leave tonight. Tonight. That means I’d see him..by breakfast. Oh my. My heart started pounding as I shot out of bed, being greeted by a yawning Kal. ‘Oh KAL! What news I have!’

——

The plane had landed and taxiing to the airport of Gimpo International Airport, Seoul, seemed to take forever. I eagerly looked out of the window, brushing my fingers through Kal’s fur to ease my mind. Just a few more minutes and I’d see him. Oh my. I felt butterflies in my stomach, my heart pounding and my hands clammy. The captain’s iron voice was shrieking through the speakers, but I couldn’t really make much of his heavily accented english. I sat back in the beige seat, keeping my eye trained on the window, barely registering as one of the flight attendees carefully shook me from my stare. ‘Miss? Are you ready?’ I sat up, realising first class could leave the plane first. Like. Right now. I nodded, a quick smile turning on my face as I quickly picked up my bag and followed her, being able to walk straight out after the sealed door was opened.

It got even crazier when I found a small man waiting for me outside the plane. He held up a small clipboard with my name on it, already recognising me before I realised what was going on. ‘Miss! Welcome. Please.’ He reached for my bag, which he took from me. Kal excitedly wanted to jump up at him, making the small man jump back, laughing awkwardly. ‘Bear dog! Ha!’ He said with a cute accent, his eyes squinting in a wide smile. ‘Now, follow me. Quick route.’ He gestured, as his small legs shuffled off in lightning speed. I even had to set a serious pace to keep up with him. Darn fast little man! But on the other hand, I was overly glad he was fast. The faster I’d see Henry. Once more my heart started to pound loudly in my chest as we quickly strided through customs, picked up my bags and he escorted me to the exit hall. Staying at his side of the sliding door he bowed me a goodbye. I thanked him and dragged Kal from him, before Kal could attempt another tackle on the poor man. I swished my suitcase into the exit hall, a happy Kal looking up at me, curious what adventure would be next. But all I had eyes for was him. It was hard to miss him, since he was towering at least a foot over the other people. Wearing his usual incognito sweater, sunglasses and baseball cap, he waved at me. I pulled Kal and my suitcase along, wishing I could just jump into his arms, stifle him with my kisses, heck, I’d make love to him right here if I could.

‘Hi.’ I breathed, slightly out of breath as I halted before him, dropping my suitcase - but thankfully not Kal’s leash. He smiled, quickly pulling me up into one of those big, big bear hugs. ‘Hmmmmmm.’ He hummed, not lowering me down, pushing his nose in my neck, making me giggle. I wrapped my legs around his hip, settling back in his arms a bit so I could remove his sunglasses. Green eyes meet blue eyes. We kissed. Oh how I missed this. Him. His scent. His scruffy chin. His laugh. We kissed and kissed and kissed to the point that Kal was getting impatient, jumping up at us, wanting to get in on the action. We finally let go so Henry could greet his trusty pal. ‘Hi! Hey! Been a good boy? You’ve been a good boy? Oh Kal! Kal! Kal!’ He laughed as Kal rolled on his back, offering Henry his belly to rub to mighty delight. His paw was even kicking in excitement. In between belly rubs Henry looked up at me, his face melting in what I could best describe as pure love. I could have died happily on that spot right there.

--

Part 8 > 

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Good Business: Part 8

Fandom: Marvel (Mob AU)

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a ruthless mobster. He’s also referred to as Big Buck due to his towering strong frame as well as his round stomach. You’re the owner of a small diner, a place that Big Buck decides to visit. Based off this drabble.

A/N: used google translate for italian translations. if they’re wrong, feel free to dm me the correct translations!!

You weren’t going to let Bucky back into your heart so easily. You couldn’t. After the shit he pulled, you have to be careful. Because nothing is more painful than a broken heart. 

So when he picked you up Saturday night, you weren’t particularly cold with him, but you weren’t warm with him either. You were...civil. 

You slid into the passenger’s seat after he opened the door for you and he made his way to the driver’s side. During the drive, you made light conversation: how work was, did anything interesting happen, hear any reviews on the movie you two were going to see, etc. 

When you arrived to the movie theater, you were a bit surprised to see that it was hustling and bustling with other movie goers. Noticing your surprised expression, Bucky shrugged, “I figured you wouldn’t appreciate watching a movie with just you and me. So I didn’t rent out the place this time.” And he’s right, you wouldn’t appreciate it at all. An empty theater with just you and him? Sounds more than a friend date to you. 

Bucky paid for the tickets and you both walked to concessions. He ordered a large popcorn for the both of you as well as your favorite candy to eat at the movies. He pays, after you attempt to do so yourself, and then hands you your candy.

You give him a confused expression, "How did you know these are my favorites?"

Bucky shrugs with a small smirk on his face, "I have my ways."

Flashback

"Scott, I need your help." Scott hears when he goes out the back to take out the trash. 

His eyes widen and he drops the trash, seeing Big Bucky waiting for him there, "I-I know I used to be an ex-con, but no money in the world is gonna make me go back to life. I've got a good life going on. I have an awesome job with a great boss. I don't need to be supervised to see my daughter anymore. So whatever place you want me to break into, I won't do it."

Bucky cocks a brow and scoffs, "You done?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"Good, and fortunately for you, I'm not asking you to do anything like that. I just need some information on Y/N."

Scott starts to feel uncomfortable again, "What-What kind of information?"

“Do I wanna know?” you ask apprehensively. 

Bucky just shoves his hands in his pockets and answers, “I asked Scott, sweet cheeks.”

“Ask or threaten?” you narrow your eyes at him.

Bucky can’t help but chuckle, “Ask. I swear on my ma I didn’t hurt or threaten him. I just-I just wanted to know some things about you so that I don’t fuck up-sorry,” he says when a woman in front of him looks at him with scolding eyes, “-mess up tonight. Don’t wanna offend ya in any way, shape, or form.”

Your gaze seems to soften when he tells you this, “Thanks, Bucky. That’s very...considerate of you.” he gives you another shrug and proceeds to lead you to the theater where your showing was. 

The seats you two picked were right in the middle, the same seats from the previous movie night. You just hoped that this would go a lot better. 

_______________

Throughout the movie, Bucky found himself paying more attention to you rather than the film. He kept glancing your way, whether you noticed or not, you didn’t show it. This is what he missed from the first movie night. He wasn’t able to enjoy your smile and laughter at any of the jokes said in the film. He missed your intrigued stare while you stuffed of your face with popcorn and candy. He missed your whispered commentary, and shared giggles, with the occasional shushes from the people around you. 

This is what could have happened the first night that Bucky brought you to the movies, but he’s thankful he gets this with you now. 

There’s a point during the movie where you get a bit chilly, your hands moving up and down your legs to warm you up a bit. Bucky proceeded to shrug off his jacket and place it on top of your lap. He receives a grateful grin and a whispered, “Thank you” from you. A big victory seen in his own personal book. 

Then there’s the occasional times where you two grab for popcorn at the same time. Bucky’s always the first to pull away because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable and he hopes that the light from the movie screen isn’t bright enough to showcase his round blushing cheeks. He feels like a teenager on his first date. But no, it’s not a date. Not really. It’s a “friend date” as he’s specified, but dammit does he want this to be more. In due time, Barnes. In due time. 

You walk out of the theater, discarding the empty bag of popcorn and candy container. Bucky’s jacket remains hanging off your shoulders as you’re spouting off your opinions of the movie. He can’t help but stare at you in awe, that is, until you call him out on his gaze.

“What’s with the look?” you ask curiously, a hint of a smile dancing on your lips. 

“Nothin’. I’m just really glad you enjoyed the movie.”

You nodded, “Did you? Enjoy the movie, I mean?”

“Gonna be honest, I wasn’t paying much attention. Something more interesting caught my eye,” he says fondly. 

You nervously clear your throat and look down at your feet, not wanting to let Bucky know that his words have affected you so much, “So, uh, I’m kinda sick of the popcorn and candy. Wanna get some pizza or something?”

“Sure,” Bucky mumbles and gestures for you to lead the way back to his car. 

The drive to the pizzeria is silent, but not the comforting kind. Oh no, this was awkward silence. You both know you should say something, anything, but you don’t know what. Bucky’s mentally cursing himself because he probably made you uncomfortable with his comment while you’re scolding yourself for disregarding his comment. 

Bucky takes you to a small, hole in the wall, pizza joint. It’s fairly empty on a Saturday night, which you’re a bit surprised about. 

“This place is a hidden gem and have the best pizza I’ve ever had.”

You can’t help but snort, “All words, Big Buck. I’ll believe it when I taste it.”

A wide grin appears on his face when he swings the door open for you, “Prepare to eat your words, sweetcheeks!” 

When he follows you in, you jump when you hear a loud yelp and a “Big Bucky!”

Bucky moves around you to wrap his arms around a small Italian woman, “Tina! Come sta la mia mamma preferita?”

Tina, reaches up and pinches Bucky’s round cheeks, “You’ve been learning Italian! Good!” she exclaims in her own Italian lilt. When she looks at you, awkwardly standing there in Bucky’s jacket, she immediately pushes Bucky to the side, “Chi è questa bella donna?”

He then moves to stand next to you, “Mama Tina, this is Y/N L/N, my g-my friend,” he inwardly winces at his minor slip up, “Y/N, this is Martina Russo, aka Mama Tina. Her family has owned this place for decades.”

You extend your hand out and Mama Tina, takes a hold of it, but then proceeds to pull you into a hug, “It’s nice to meet you, bella!” 

“Oh yeah. She’s also a hugger,” Bucky adds with a giggle as Mama Tina lets go of you and then drags you to a table. He proceeds to sit down across from you, a proud grin on his face. 

“The usual?” Mama Tina asks.

Bucky nods and takes her hand, kissing the back of it, “Grazie.”

She then pats Bucky’s cheek lovingly and then moves to the kitchen, her boisterous Italian accent yelling an order to her employees. Both of you chuckle.

“Well, she’s very charming.”

“I help her and her family out whenever they’re short on money. Stevie and I used to come here a lot when we were younger. Mama Tina always made sure to take care of us. She’s like a second mom to me.” Bucky’s voice is so soft and caring as he speaks, “There was this one time,” he stops to chuckle, “I came here with a date and it was terrible. She kept complaining about the place, about the food, about Mama. Before we left, Mama pulled me aside and told me to never bring a girl here again unless I know she’d like her.”

“And did you?” 

“Not until now,” he says softly, blue eyes peering into yours with such meaning and compassion. It was like you were put under a spell. You couldn’t seem to look away from his gorgeous enchanting, ethereal blue-

“To set the mood!” Mama Tina announces as she places a candle on the table, lighting it with a lighter. 

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head, “Mama, it’s okay. You don’t-”

“Hush. You take what I give you,” another pat to Bucky’s cheek and she’s gone again. 

The moment is gone, but a light chatter fills the void. You ask Bucky more questions about his childhood. You realize that despite knowing him for some months, you still don’t truly know him. He talks about his family, being raised a tried and true Brooklyn boy, as well as many stories of the trouble that he was pulled into because of Steve. 

“But Steve’s so nice and pure!” you exclaim, which earns a snort from Bucky.

“Sweet cheeks, Steve has been and always will be a punk.”

You opened your mouth to comment, but then Mama Tina placed down a ten sliced pizza with various types of meats and veggies, “The Big Bucky special!”

“You have a pizza named after you?” you asked incredulously.

“Yes, I do and it’s the best pizza here! Not that I’m biased or anything,” he says when he grabs a slice and placing it on his place. He then winks at Mama Tina, “Grazie, Mama!”

“Buon Appetito!” she heads behind the cashier counter, trying not to seem obvious that she’s watching you and Bucky. 

Bucky watches as you lift up a piece and take a generous bite. You stare back at him as you chew, mulling over the taste, “Well?” he asks.

When you swallow, you shrug, “It’s alright,” you say nonchalantly, a hint of a smirk at the corner of your lips. 

“How dare you!” Bucky yells playfully and throws a napkin at you. 

You laugh, throwing it back at him, “Alright! Alright! I’m kidding! It’s delicious!” 

Bucky looks over your shoulder and yells to Mama Tina, “She loves it, Mama!”

You giggle at Mama Tina’s little happy dance as you take another bite of the Big Bucky Special. 

Good Business Taglist (OPEN): @cametobuyplums @sergeantrosabellaswan@asadmarveltrashbag​ @youcanhaveyourspacecowboy​ @reniescarlett​ @j-the-smol-otter @buckysknifecollection @lowkeysebby @rinthehufflepuff @134340-cm @snoot-snoot-toot @seabassali1328 @bluebellhairpin @emzy106@viarogers @feelmyroarrrr @vxidnik @jasura @jade-cheshire3303 @yknott81@baliebay19 @jessieray98 @fandommemporiumm @iluvsumbucky@bucksandroses @lecoindenox @ylva-stark

[mydearestreaderfanfics]

Blood-Thirsty Babe (Lotor x Reader)

Warnings: alcohol, blood drinking (he's a vampire ya'll)

Word Count: 2,600

Prompt/Request: Twelfth day of the October Special: Vampire.

Summary: A vampire masquerade is all good fun, especially when another person dressed as a vampire catches your eye. Except maybe he's more than just acting like a vampire...

Author: Mod Alex

“So how’d you meet?” Oh boy, here we go.

Halloween was one of your favorite holidays; one of the main reasons this was true was because of the major costume party that your bestie held every year. She was in a sorority meaning the party was huge. Anyway, you had to go because like you said, your best friend was hosting it. This year you were going as a vampire. Allura, your bestie, was also hosting an after-party party that was a masquerade of sorts, the only catch: it was a vampire masquerade. Most of the party goers didn’t know this key fact. Only her, the sorority girls, and a handful of other volunteers were going as a vampire, but everybody was expected to go in the closest Victorian garb they can find. You were one of those volunteers. A trip to a handful of thrift stores and a stop at the Hot Topic and you were good to go. Allura had assured you that it would be plenty of fun, and you were sure it would be, but you were still pretty sure you’d dip in and out of the party throughout the night just to get a break from the fangs that were pushing against your gums uncomfortably.

The pre-party, or the first party, was fun enough- if parties were your kind of thing, that is. Allura was a queen when it came to hosting events, all the sorority girls were, it seemed. There were drinks galore, most of which were booze, meaning the party-goers were having no difficulty getting into the mindset to dance without inhibition. The furniture was overturned and most of the rooms had become occupied within the last hour that the party had been raging on. Truly it was a party worthy of the silver screen. You were already tired. The music blaring from the speakers mixed with the flashing lights was giving you one hell of a headache. You stepped out, relishing in the cool night air, it was a nice reprieve from the suffocating heat from inside. It was weird, after being in a space filled by so many other people, the absence of any life outside felt wrong. Like really wrong. It felt like someone was watching you. You shook the feeling off, deciding that maybe the party inside was in need of your return. Besides, you needed to help Alura set up the masquerade soon.

Since there was too many passed out drunks, and one hell of a mess, the masquerade was to be held at a different location- the dance floor they’d secured a month ago. Since the whole thing was a fundraiser, the expense of the lavish party room was more than covered, thankfully. When you got there, Allura and some of the other volunteers had already done a decent amount of set-up. Some decoration still needed to go up, and a few items at the food table needed to go out, but aside from that, you all were golden. “(Y/N), make sure you get into costume. The guests will be arriving soon.” Oh, you also needed to get into costume still. The extravagant outfit was far from easy to slip into, and the fangs were just as uncomfortable as you remembered them being. Oh well, at least you could still talk with them in. By the time you got done changing, guests had already begun to filter in. They were delighted to see you all were vampires. It added a level of mystery and seduction, you supposed. This party, you’d admit, was much better than the previous one. It was just as loud, but at least strangers weren’t trying to grind against you here. No, people were really getting into the theme of masquerade and pretending like they're a bunch of heirs and heiresses attending an elaborate royal ball. It was kind of fun to sink into that persona, you'd admit. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t getting into character too.

“Pardon me, darling, I don’t mean to burden you, but I must say that necklace adorns that tender neck of yours so splendidly.” You flashed a dangerous grin at a girl and she giggled and blushed. ��Thank you kindly. It was my mother’s y’know. Pure silver.” “I see. 'Tis a right shame that such a lovely young woman is to wear something that must keep me from her.” She giggled again before resuming chit chat with her friends, occasionally eyeing you with interest. It was a part of the job- flirting shamelessly with the guests. Direct orders from Allura. Internally you were screaming with social anxiety and awkwardness, on the outside, however, you were as suave as the vampires in the movies. Truly a modern-day Louis de Pointe du Lac.

“Pardon me?” You put on a smirk before turning to face the guest. “How may I assist such a fine spe-” Your voice died in your throat. In front of you was the most attractive person you’d ever met. Piercing violet eyes (surely they had to be contacts), hair so blond that it looked nearly white (and wow it looked so fluffy and soft), and a smirk that put your faux vampire smirk to shame. You honestly felt kinda weak in the knees just being in his presence. He looked more amused by you than infatuated which was a minor major blow to your ego, especially since you were sure you were practically ogling him just now. “You can help me find something to drink. I am horribly parched, you see.” Oh right, you were one of the helping crew here. He wasn’t here to dance or flirt- no, he was here to ask you to find the damnable bar. “Of course my good sir, although I must say no drinks here would be as satisfying as your blood.” That line had worked at least twice tonight so when he laughed- actually laughed, you felt a little discouraged. When he finished laughing, he straightened himself back up. “Sorry, darling. Is that really what you silly mortals think of us?” Oh shoot, was he one of the volunteers? You were sure you hadn’t seen him during set up earlier. Maybe he got here late? “Oh my gosh, I didn’t realize you were helping out here too. I feel like an idiot now, haha.” You laughed at your own expense, relieved that he was joking around with you and not acting like an ass at your mistake. “Helping here- yes I suppose I am.” Huh, guess he didn’t want to break character. You stopped walking once you were at the bar. “Here you are, my good sir.” He chuckled. “Thank you, my dear, although it seems they don’t have what I wish to drink here.” What? The bar had at least 20 different kinds of drinks and that wasn’t even counting the alcohol. “It doesn’t?” “No, but I suppose if I must, I will settle for a red wine.” As he ordered you couldn’t help but muse over the fact that he really was like a vampire- he played the role well. “It’s quite stuffy in here, wouldn’t you say?” You quirked an eyebrow at him, he smiled in return. “Would you care to get some air with me?” Years of watching over Allura at bars and making sure you didn’t get dragged away into an isolated space with a stranger told you that no, going outside with him was dangerous. On the other hand, he seemed nice and you really could use some air. “Sure, but I gotta be back in here soon, so maybe we can head to the balcony?” A safe compromise you reckoned. “I couldn’t have chosen a more preferable meeting spot if I tried.” He walked in front of you, leading you to the balcony. As he walked, you noticed how sure his steps seemed, how he seemed to glide with each step. He oozed elegance, and as you followed him, you noticed the jealous stares you received.

The balcony was closed off by a set of thick Victorian style curtains. Lotor moved them aside so you could pass under them. He swept them aside like they weighed no more than a feather, although earlier when you had helped set them up, you had to have help because they were so heavy. You didn’t realize this until later, though. You did notice he no longer had his drink in hand, though... how odd. The night sky was out in its full glory that night. The stars looked like they'd been hung up one by one just to set the scene for Lotor and you. It was almost unbearably romantic. Why did you have to pick the balcony? At least you could still hear the chatter from inside. Lotor tilted his head up and the moonlight shone over him, making his almost white hair gleam ethereally. The night looked like it belonged to him- like he was the one who twisted the shadows and directed the moonlight. It was enchanting in the most predacious kind of way. “I would say this is much better, wouldn’t you, darling?” “Yeah, the night’s really pretty. The stars are almost never this bright.” You felt him brush a lock of your hair behind your ear, it sent shivers down your spine, but you made no move to stop him. The attention was actually quite nice. Especially since everyone just knew you as Allura’s less attractive friend. You looked over at the charming man beside you, he was already looking at you. Even the cool night air couldn't help ease the heat that had crept up your neck to your cheeks. “You have the most splendid eyes.” A squeak left you, your blush only worsening. “Thank you.” “Oh dear, I’m being too forward aren't’ I? I haven't even introduced myself.” He took your hand, bowing in front of you whilst he pressed his lips against the back of your hand. His kiss was cold as ice, leaving a ghost of his kiss even when he pulled back. “I am Lotor, pleased to meet you.” The dated greeting left you reeling and you clumsily bowed back. “(Y/N), truly an honor.” When you righted yourself again, he was gleaming. (Y/N), what an enchanting name.” The way he spoke your name like it was a fine wine that deserved to be savored, made your heart skip a beat. “Thank you.” “Tell me, (Y/N), what do you think of the creatures of the night?” What? Was he talking about vampires? “I suppose I’ve always liked them? When I was younger I always thought it would be wonderful to be bitten, but I suppose that might’ve been the fault of certain movies and novels.” He grinned again, and you noticed the sharp incisors he had. You couldn’t help but wonder where he had bought such real looking fangs. “And do you still fancy them as much as you did in your youth?” Gosh, what were these questions? “I um, I suppose I do.” His wolfish grin widened. His hand was at your neck, but he was only cupping the side of it, his thumb gently brushing over your jugular. Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of nerves and excitement thrumming through your body. “Such a wonderful neck.” He spoke more to himself than you, but you still heard it. He was really taking this vampire thing serious. At least, that’s what you thought until you looked up and saw his eyes- the sclera in his eyes to be exact- glow yellow, like a dangerous animal in the forest. The world around you spun, and despite yourself, you clung to him, like he would keep you from spinning away with the rest of the world. “Darling, would you mind too terribly if I drink from that flawless neck of yours. Your blood, I can smell it from her, you will taste exquisite.” Your breath caught in your throat. Your heart was gripped with fear, but your brain buzzed with eager anticipation. You weren’t really sure what you wanted. “I promise I won’t hurt you, darling. I can’t imagine causing such a magnificent specimen such as yourself any suffering. I will make the experience enjoyable for you.” When you spoke, your voice sounded faint, far away even, like you yourself weren’t the one talking, more like you were listening to someone in the next room talking. “Yeah, yeah okay.” Within seconds his lips were at your neck, you weren’t sure how he’d gotten so close so fast. He didn’t bite you right away, no, true to his word he was making you feel so, so good. He pressed a kiss to the area where your neck met your shoulder, trailing kisses up until he met the area above your jugular. He nipped at the area, not hard enough to puncture your skin, just enough to make your knees buckle and force you to grip onto his shoulders to steady yourself. He pulled back just enough to blow on your neck, the cold air sending tingles through your body. Seeming pleased with himself, he moved back in. His lips met the same spot they had been in before, pressing soft kisses. He pulled back again, although not as much as before, before biting into your neck. It felt the same way it had when he was just gently scraping your neck, only more pressure. If you didn’t know he was planning on biting you, you might have not even realized what he was doing. The quiet slurping noises probably would’ve tipped you off, though. He was sucking on your neck and a sigh left your lips. You’d probably have a hickey later, but right now you couldn’t care less about that. His tongue lapped against your heated neck, the contrast in temperature giving you goosebumps. You felt dizzy, although whether it was the blood loss or the pleasure you weren’t sure. He lapped at your neck one more time before pulling back. You’d always figured that vampires would look messier than they did in the movies, but no- there was a small trickle of blood on his chin, but aside from that he looked as put together as he did earlier. You, however, were sure you looked a hot mess. “You were even more succulent than I had imagined. Thank you, darling.” He seemed to notice your disheveled appearance and chuckled, not unkindly. “Oh dear, perhaps I got a little carried away.” “No, no. That was… good. Really good.” “I see, perhaps you would consider being my own personal donor.” That was probably a bad idea, but if it felt that good everytime, who were you to say no. “On one condition.” “Oh? What is your condition?” What was your condition- you really hadn’t thought this one through. “If I’m going to be your ‘donor’, the least you could do is to wine and dine me occasionally.” His confused look turned to one of amusement, pleased even. “Are you asking me to court you?” You blushed, realizing that yes, that was what you were saying. “Yes?” “Splendid. I would be more than happy to court you.” He leaned toward you, capturing you in a brief but absolutely spectacular kiss. He pulled away all too soon. “I’ll be seeing you soon, darling.” He turned and in the blink of an eye, he was gone. You bit your lip, turning back to rejoin the party, a smile on your features. Soon, huh? You couldn’t wait.

So yeah, that’s how we met.

[teachingoutsidethebinary]

Let’s Get Out of Here Part 8: Rest Day

Summary: Bucky and Y/N take a break from the hustle and bustle of their vacation for a rest day.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 2547

Read previous parts here

“So here’s the thing about Disney vacations,” you said. “They’re super fun, but super busy. You’ve gotta schedule some down time, you know?” Bucky’s mouth was full of scrambled eggs, so he just nodded. After almost a full day of driving and three days in the parks, some down time sounded perfect right about now.

You and Bucky had slept in way past your normal 7am wake up time after staying up late watching Mary Poppins. In fact, you were both still in your pajamas eating the spread you had both ordered from room service. Scrambled eggs, waffles, bacon, and fruit separated the two of you on your bed. You grabbed the maple syrup off the nightstand and drenched your waffles and eggs. “So what does a rest day include?” he inquired, after swallowing his food.

“Okay, so hear me out before you say no,” you replied, taking a bite of your waffle. “The pool-”

“Nope,” Bucky interrupted. He shook his head. “I don’t do pools.” You gave him an exasperated look. “Would you let me finish, Barnes?!” He narrowed his eyes and speared some grapefruit. “As I was saying,” you huffed, “this hotel has private cabanas we can rent. You can stay hidden under one, if you must, and I can swim my heart out.” Bucky considered your offer. It might be nice to relax under the shade instead of walking around a hot park.

“I’m wearing a shirt,” he replied, stubbornly. “And I probably won’t go in.” You rolled your eyes at his demands. “You can do whatever you want. Don’t worry, I won’t push you in.” The idea of you trying to force him into the pool made him snort.

“Anything you want to do on our rest day?” you asked. “Yeah,” Bucky said. “Can we go to the arcade? I saw it on our way to the monorail.”

“Of course! We can go there first. I can kick your butt at skeeball,” you taunted. Bucky flicked some scrambled egg at you and laughed.

You and Bucky finished eating and got dressed for the pool. You wore a top and shorts over your swimsuit, and Bucky wore a pair of workout shorts and a henley. He didn’t think to actually pack a real bathing suit before he left New York.

You kept teasing Bucky about your awesome gaming skills as you walked into the arcade. You bought a game card to split between the two of you and got started. Bucky bounded over to the air hockey table and raised his eyebrows in a challenge. You stood on the opposite end and swiped the game card. A puck released and the game began.

Bucky was a natural. He blocked all of your attacks and managed to get the upper hand fairly quickly. You bit your bottom lip as you tried to get the best of him, but when the timer buzzed, he had scored 10 points to your measly 3. “I thought you could kick my butt,” he teased. You pointed your hockey disk at him. “I said I could kick your butt at skeeball, not air hockey.”

You walked past him over to the skeeball machines. You swiped the card and started one game for you and one for Bucky. The balls rolled down and you went to work. After your third consecutive 10,000 shot, Bucky stopped to stare at you. He thought he had excellent aim, but he was clearly out of his element in this game. He kept launching the balls too hard, so they bounced right to the back of the baseboard and down in the 100 point rings. His strength helped him during the hockey game, but it was obviously a poor strategy for skeeball.

This time, you owned Bucky with a 100,000 point game. You did a little victory dance in front of your machine. He laughed and pushed you away. “We actually used to have skeeball machines in the arcades when I was a kid,” he said as you walked to the pinball section. “Then why are you so bad at it?” you asked with a chuckle. He shoved your shoulder again and picked a pinball game. You left him to it as you went to find some games of your own.

By the time Bucky finished a few rounds of pinball, you had scored 10 goals in basketball, shot space invaders out of the sky, and rocked another three games of skeeball. You walked over and handed him the card so he could play the last of the credits. Bucky swiped the card for one more game of pinball and you watched over his shoulder. He made it all the way to the bonus round but missed the last ball. The game chirped as it ended and displayed his score. “Personal best!” he said, triumphantly.  

You left the arcade and made your way outside. Thankfully, it was a fairly quiet day at the pool as families enjoyed the theme parks. You checked in at the outside bar for your cabana and were led to one near the end of the pool. It had two comfy, padded lounge chairs and a fridge stocked with drinks. There was even a TV attached to one frame and a fan spinning lazily on the ceiling.

You unlooped the curtains on the cabana so Bucky would have some privacy. He had been glancing around nervously ever since you got outside, and he was covering his metal hand with the sleeve of his shirt. He sat down under the safety of the shade, and the curtain all but blocked him from the view of pool-goers. He let himself be enveloped by the warm cushions and managed to relax. You tossed your shirt and shorts on the other chair and headed outside. “You sure you don’t want to come?” you asked. Bucky shook his head sleepily. “M’ fine here.”

Bucky was completely content to sleep on the cabana chair as you swam and sat out in the sun all afternoon. You came back in at one point and flicked Bucky with some cold water. He startled awake and glared at you. “Hungry?” you asked. Bucky’s stomach rumbled and he nodded sheepishly. You ordered some food and spent lunchtime chatting about everything and nothing at the same time. The conversation flowed naturally between the two of you, and you enjoyed watching Bucky relax and be himself. He was fairly reserved and it had taken some time before your friendship developed. You hoped the experience of this trip would reverberate back to his life in New York.

“I’m heading back in,” you announced after you had let your food digest for a little bit. “The water feels awesome. Think about coming in?” You didn’t wait for his answer and stepped back out into the sunlight.

Bucky eventually gathered the courage to peek around the cabana’s curtain. He saw a few families swimming at the other end, but other than that, there really weren’t a lot of people. He tentatively stepped outside, tugged his shirt sleeve down, and walked over to the pool’s edge. No one paid any attention to him as he lowered himself to the ground and stuck his feet in the water. It felt cool and refreshing against his hot skin.

You had just finished swimming a lap when you saw Bucky sitting on the ledge of the pool. You swam up to him and grabbed the wall next to him. You pretended to rub your eyes, stare at Bucky and rub them again. He splashed some water on you and you squeaked. “It’s not so bad,” he admitted.

You tested boundaries by splashing some water on his knees. He yelped in surprise but didn’t get out. He lifted one of his legs and stomped on the water. The cool water soaked the parts of you that had dried in the sun. You spluttered and shook your head. Bucky laughed at your dramatic reaction. You slapped him with water one more time for good measure then resumed your swim.

You decided to call it quits around early evening and get ready for dinner. “What’s the plan for tonight?” Bucky yelled over the sound of your hair dryer. You held up a finger asking for a minute as you finished up. You shook and scrunched your hair into waves after clicking off the hair dryer. “There’s a cool place called Downtown Disney not far from here,” you said. “It’s like a big shopping district. One of the restaurants has waterfront dining.” Bucky perked up when he heard that last bit. He loved the idea of eating on the water again.

“Well, hurry up then!” he exclaimed. You finished getting ready and grabbed your car keys. “Trust me, we’re better off driving,” you said, noticing Bucky’s confused expression. You left the room and made your way to the parking garage. Your SUV sat patiently where you had parked it four days before.

The drive to Downtown Disney was quick. You parked right near The Boathouse and took some pictures near the docks before going inside for your reservation. You ordered shrimp mac and cheese while Bucky got the steak and crab combo. This was by far the fanciest place you had eaten on this trip, and the food was amazing. You and Bucky sat right next to the water and watched the sunset paint the water with brilliant hues of yellow and orange.

After dinner, you insisted that the two of you ride the Marketplace Carousel. Bucky felt ridiculous sitting atop a fake horse as it moved around a circle, but you looked like you were having the time of your life. He took a picture of you on your horse and then managed to get a selfie with both of you. As he flipped through the pictures, he realized he would never do things like this back in New York. One thing Bucky really liked about Disney was the ability to act like a child and get away with it.

Bucky decided to continue this theme of childlike wonder and led you to the LEGO store. You spent almost an half an hour taking selfies with the huge LEGO models. Bucky pretended to be burned under Maleficent's fire while you danced with Belle and the Beast. Of course, you and Bucky couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get a picture with Buzz and Woody. You pretended to be Buzz and grabbed Bucky’s waist from behind as you prepared to be lifted in the sky by a rocket.  When you finally got inside, you both played with the different kits set up around the store. Bucky make a small version of the Quinjet while you created an X-Wing from the newest Star Wars movie.

You stopped by the pin store and got Bucky a lanyard and some pins of his favorite characters from the trip. He took his time picking out his pins, and you giggled at his absolute concentration. Bucky insisted on stopping in the candy store afterwards to get some Mickey-shaped chocolate.

As you continued to walk around Downtown Disney, the crowd was in full swing. The sun completely disappeared from the sky and the moon shone brightly with the various lamps, store lights, and string lights on the streets. You had enough foresight this time to bring your sweatshirt along, so you quickly pulled it over your tshirt when the temperature began to drop. You stopped in front of a store called D Street.

“You need a Disney sweatshirt,” you commanded to Bucky. “I don’t really get cold, remember?” he replied. It was true. Thanks to the serum, his body temperature adapted to his surroundings. You paused for a moment. He needed some type of wearable souvenir from this trip…

“I’ve got it!” you exclaimed, pulling him inside the store. One the first day of the trip, Bucky would have been apprehensive to follow you when you got excited like this. But now, after everything he’d experienced so far, he knew most of your plans usually turned out to be pretty cool.

You led him past the clothing section directly to the hat section. Specifically, the Mickey ears section. “Okay, so since you don’t want a sweatshirt, you definitely need a pair of Mickey ears,” you said, holding a rainbow pair up for consideration.

Okay, Bucky took back his previous thought. This was ridiculous. He was going to LOOK ridiculous wearing a pair of Mickey ears. Noticing his apprehension, you held up the pair you were holding and gave him a goofy grin.

“You don’t need to wear them when we get home,” you explained. “It’s more of a fun souvenir to help you remember the trip. You can even get your name stitched on the back!” You grabbed a purple pair of ears and put them on your own head, grinning widely.

He carefully took the rainbow pair your handed him and considered your offer. Moving over to the mirror, he put them on his own head. He couldn’t help but smile at the scene in front of him. You were standing next to him in your oversized sweatshirt still chomping on your chocolate Mickey ears. The bright purple Mickey ears were a sharp contrast to the dark sweatshirt. Both of your cheeks were flushed pink from being out in the sun all day. Bucky was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of basketball shorts with a pair of rainbow Mickey ears on his head. You both looked absolutely ridiculous, but he also looked...happy.

Bucky took the rainbow ears off and put them back on the rack. He scanned the other styles and his eyes landed on a pair of navy blue and black ears. He examined the Mickey image on the front and then turn the ears over. The back was a blank canvas, and he could picture silver thread spelling out his name in loopy cursive. He picked them up, walked back over to the mirror and put them on his head. They were perfect. Smiling brightly, he turned to you.

“I love it!” You clapped your hands excitedly and took the hats over to the stitching table. Once the retail workers had finished sewing your names on your respective hats, you put them on and walked back outside.

Bucky pulled you back over to the waterfront restaurant and stood near the dock. He took out his phone and pulled you in against his side. He took a selfie and turned the phone around to examine the picture.

Even though it was dark out, the lamps from the restaurant and dock created a halo of light around your frames. You stood cheek-to-cheek and the glimmer from the water peeked through from behind you. The Mickey ears you both bought earlier sat proudly atop your heads, and your smiles lit up your faces.

You stared at the picture, your heart filling up with joy. It seemed to combine every happy moment from the trip in one beautiful shot. “I love it,” you said, softly. “Make sure you text it to me.”

Bucky nodded and looped his arm through yours and you walked back to the car. Nothing could erase the bright smiles stretching across your faces.

[gordanladdskitchen]

9 Best Oil for Popcorn Machine to Pop Movie Theater Quality Popcorns

A home popcorn maker and branded popcorn kernels are the perfect combos to cook your favorite snack. In a flash, you’ll have freshly cooked lovable popcorn for movie night. However, if you desire the classic movie theater popcorn taste, make it a majestic trio. Adding the best oil for popcorn machine will enrich the flavor of popcorns and make your movie marathon viewing more delightful.

In this post, we will go through the type of popcorn oil and which is the best oil for popcorn machine. Also, we’ll be reviewing the top 3 popcorn oil and select the best ones you should buy. Let’s get into it!

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List of Best Oil for Popcorn Machine

Oil Is the Secret of Movie Theater Popcorn

Type of Oils for Popcorn Machine

The go-to oil: Coconut Oil

The low-fat oil: Canola Oil

The healthier oil: Olive Oil

The nutty oil: Peanut oil

The mild-flavored oil: Sunflower Oil

The Top 3 Popcorn Oil Reviews

Snappy Popcorn White Coconut Oil, 1 Gallon

Paragon Coconut Popcorn Oil, 1 Gallon

Great Northern Popcorn Oil with Butter Blend, 1 Gallon

Our Pick

Secret to Tasty Popcorn

List of Best Oil for Popcorn Machine

Description

Editor Rating

NCS

Grade*​

Price

Range*​

Snappy Popcorn 1 Gallon White Coconut Oil, 1 Gallon

A-

$$

Paragon Coconut Popcorn Popping Oil (Gallon

A-

$$

Great Northern Popcorn Premium Movie Theater Butter Topping, Gallon

A

$$

Snappy Popcorn Colored Coconut Oil, 1 Gallon

A-

$$

Snappy Popcorn 1 Gallon Snappy Pure Peanut Oil No Color Added, 128 Fl Oz

A-

$$

Great Northern Popcorn Premium Yellow Coconut Popcorn Popping Oil, Gallon

A-

$$

Butter Flavored Coconut Oil by Franklin’s Gourmet Popcorn. 30 oz Tub

A

$$

Wabash Valley Farms Real Theater Popcorn Popping Oil, 16-Ounce Jars (Pack of 3)

A

$$

Snappy Popcorn Butter Burst Oil , 1 gallon( 128 fl oz)

A

$$

*For more information about NCS (Net Customer Satisfaction) grade, please click here. (Price range: $ = $1 - $10 / $$ = $11 - $25 / $$$ = $26 - $50 / $$$$ = $51 - $75)

Oil Is the Secret of Movie Theater Popcorn

You may not be aware that some of the most delicious movie popcorns you line up for are popped without butter. The ‘cooks’ refrain from using butter because there is a tendency to produce soppy popcorn. They’d rather go for the lighter cooking oil.

Haven’t you noticed that sometimes popcorn with butter is greasier? That’s the reason why oil is chosen over butter when preparing popcorns. Oil does not dry out popcorn while cooking nor does it weigh it down.

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9 Best Oil for Popcorn Machine to Pop Movie Theater Quality Popcorns August 23, 2017

Type of Oils for Popcorn Machine

The go-to oil: Coconut Oil

The movie-style coconut oil popcorn is the vendors’ choice in movie theaters and sports arenas. Their popcorn “sell like hotcakes” because of its incredible taste. Coconut popcorn oil contains fat, but popcorn aficionados won’t mind because there are bits of vitamins and minerals present too.

Popcorns cooked in coconut oil are moist, rich in flavor and blends well with plenty of salt. Coconut oil is what makes popcorn at the movies one-of-a-kind.

The low-fat oil: Canola Oil

Another kind of oil that sellers are using to produce popcorn that tastes very similar to popcorn cooked with coconut oil is canola oil. The main consideration is that canola oil has low-fat content and far fewer calories. Canola oil may be the healthiest oil for popcorn.

The only snag is that canola oil burns quickly. You might end up with crunchy but black popcorn. The oil is the low-fat version of coconut oil. However, you need to set the temp at low heat and monitor your kettle while popping the kernels.

The healthier oil: Olive Oil

Can you use olive oil to make popcorn? Yes, you can. This oil has a tinge of the Mediterranean style where their dishes are regarded as healthy food. Olive oil makes the dishes more super healthy. Olive oil is inseparable from salad dressing, but it is a good option to cook popcorn, too. However, others complain that using olive oil gives popcorn a salad-ty taste.

The nutty oil: Peanut oil

Not all peanut oils have peanut taste but are rather tasteless. If it’s the peanut flavor you are after, try the unfiltered peanut oil for your popcorn. On the other hand, the highly refined peanut oil makes popcorn extra fluffy and with fewer calories. Before using peanut oil, be sure you’re not allergic to peanuts otherwise it will trigger a reaction. The unrefined varieties of peanut oil usually cause the allergic reaction.

The mild-flavored oil: Sunflower Oil

Sunflower oil is sometimes used in cooking popcorn. Perhaps it started as an experiment and discovered that sunflower oil adds a very slight nutty flavor to popcorn. Sunflower oil has a preservative effect on food and therefore you’d expect your popcorn to stay fresh longer. Other oils do not have that characteristic, though.

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The Top 3 Popcorn Oil Reviews

Snappy Popcorn White Coconut Oil, 1 Gallon

The White Coconut Oil variant of Snappy is absolutely the oil that can deliver the authentic taste of movie theater popcorn. The gallon size will produce large a ton of popcorn goodness.

This top selling popcorn oil is 100% pure and refined. The use of the oil is not limited to popcorn popping but is actually one of the best oils for frying and baking. It’s ideal for high-heat cooking although you need not use it in large measures.

The oil is unscented. You won’t smell or taste even a hint of coconut. Some users found several uses other than cooking. The oil is superb to mix with organic food as well as coffee. Stocking up won’t be a waste of budget because it’s a multi-purpose oil meant for everything. No refrigeration needed.

But if the deliberation is simply on great tasting popcorn, this snow-white oil is the ‘true’ winner.

Snappy Popcorn 1 Gallon White Coconut Oil, 1 Gallon

List Price: $22.99

Price: $22.76

You Save: $0.23

Description

Rating / Grade

Editor Rating

NCS Grade*

A-

Paragon Coconut Popcorn Oil, 1 Gallon

This non-hydrogenated coconut oil is a best seller oil from Paragon suited for a popcorn machine. Popcorn vendors prefer this oil because it produces golden-colored popcorn that is rich in flavor and aroma.

Popcorn buffs will also enjoy a healthy snack as it is basically pure coconut oil with beta carotene to bring out the color. Adding butter flavored oil topping or Flavacol seasoning makes for a good popcorn oil recipe

The oil isn't greasy at all and the popcorn smell alone is very appetizing. Unlike other oils that sometimes cause stomach upset, the Paragon Coconut Popcorn Popping Oil won’t have any of that effect.

The shelf life of the one-gallon pure coconut oil can last up to 2.8 years or 144 weeks. It’s way beyond the expiry date. Since it’s not only oil for a popcorn machine, use it for cooking other meals or dishes. Enjoy popcorn cooking all year round.

Paragon Coconut Popcorn Popping Oil (Gallon)

List Price: $23.99

Price: $23.99

Description

Rating / Grade

Editor Rating

NCS Grade*

A-

Great Northern Popcorn Oil with Butter Blend, 1 Gallon

Butter lovers will have a super treat with this premium popcorn oil butter. The oil is blended with a buttery additive to magnify the great taste of butter. It’s oil that works essentially as a butter topping

The oil does not contain the unwanted trans-fat that are usually present in most buttery toppings have. It preserves the great buttery flavor movie goers love about popcorn.

This butter topping is for the health conscious too. It’s gluten-free, no MSG, no dairy, and no eggs. There are no tree nuts or peanuts that cause an allergic reaction to some.

Pour some into an atomizer and spray the oil as an added flavor topping. If you’re cooking in a Dutch oven, heat up 2-3 tablespoon of the popcorn oil before pouring the kernels. Once popped, top it again with the oil.

Users need to use the right amount during popping otherwise the popcorn becomes greasy which is the natural tendency in popcorn laced with butter.

Great Northern Popcorn Premium Movie Theater Butter Topping, Gallon

List Price: $22.95

Price: $22.95

Description

Rating / Grade

Editor Rating

NCS Grade*

A

Our Pick

We go through hundreds of products listing at Amazon and also study the ratings left by previous buyers to find the best oil for popcorn machine for you. Besides that, we also calculate the overall net customer satisfaction (NCS) grade because we want to see how happy is the previous buyers with their purchase of the product.

From our finding, we can say that Snappy Popcorn, Paragon and Great Northern Popcorn Company are the best oil for popcorn machine brands. These brands are popular and received many excellent ratings for their products.

Also, the Snappy Popcorn Coconut Oil, Paragon Coconut Popcorn Popping Oil and Great Northern Popcorn Butter Topping score favorably for the ratings as well as the NCS grade compare to the rest. We believe that you would find these oil for popcorn machine a good buy too.

Secret to Tasty Popcorn

Experience the movie theater quality popcorn at home by cooking them with the best oil for popcorn machine. It’s fine to indulge in your favorite snack on movie night as if you’re inside the movie house. The secret to great tasting popcorn has been revealed. It’s the oil that counts!

The post 9 Best Oil for Popcorn Machine to Pop Movie Theater Quality Popcorns appeared first on Gordan Ladd's Kitchen.