#But he also tries to impress her by allowing her to talk him into charity donations amongst other things.

[dreamescapeswriting]

A Night To Remember ~ Bang Chan [Request]

WORD COUNT: 6.7K

GENRE: Angst with a happy ending

PAIRING: Bang Chan x Nurse!Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Mentions of self deprecation, I hope this is okay I know you asked for an idol to say something but bissshhhh I’m a jyp nation stan I would rip my own heart out, so I hope this is okay!!!

As a nurse, you were used to going to different gala events occasionally throughout the year. It was one thing medical school hadn't prepared you for, meeting everyone that technically paid your wages. Your boss would throw them so that the benefactors of the hospital that you worked in could get to know the people their money was going to. The hospital also through functions in order to raise money for other things benefactors couldn't help with. None of the events you'd been to was as extravagant as the gala that JYP was hosting for a charity event but it was still a gala nonetheless. The gala was there to raise money for different charities, people could bid on different things like a night with different Idols. A song was written by a specific idol if they bid high enough on it and so on and so forth. Chan had told you about this event months ago wanting to mentally prepare you for the night and allow you to get a dress in time and he was excited about it as well. When he was a trainee he'd helped out at the Gala's before but he'd never gotten to attend one until now which made you all the more nervous about what you looked like since you were his plus one. 

"Are you sure this is okay?" You asked your best friend - Kayla - through the webcam as you ran your hands down the fabric of your dress waiting anxiously for her opinion, she'd been with you when you bought it but it didn't mean she liked it. The dress was perfect for this kind of event but that didn't make you feel any less insecure about it all, you were going to be surrounded by insanely beautiful people. All of them prettier than the next, not to mention how fit they were so it was safe to say you felt like you were going to stick out like a sore thumb. Your friend shook her head at you taking in the sight of the light sky blue tulle, v-neck gown with its A-line silhouette dress, it was breathtaking to see you in it again. The sleeveless dress showing off your arms perfectly and the applique embellishment made it look fancy but not too fancy.

"Y/n I told you when you bought it how nice it was-" You cut her off as soon as she said the word nice, to you that meant it wasn't nice at all.

"Yes! Nice! I don't want nice, I have to look great. C-Chan is going to be surrounded by all of these beautiful people and if I don't match up I'm going to-" You stopped talking when you heard the front door to your apartment open and close followed by the sounds of Chan coming in from work. Kayla smirked as soon as she saw the look on your face, she knew that meant Chan was home and he hadn't seen what you were wearing yet so you had to prepare yourself for it.

"Go, you look fabulous." She ushered you off the call as she shook her head at you before hanging up. No matter what she said to you she knew there was nothing she could say to make you feel less insecure about it.

"Chris?" You called out down the stairs as you heard him moving around, probably putting everything from work away before coming up to you. You were looking around the corner of the stairs as you hid your body so he couldn't see you,

"Yeah?" His head peered around the corner of the staircase and you smiled at him happily. It felt good to see his big eye staring back at you after not seeing him all day. As soon as he saw the way you were hiding your body he knew what you were doing and chuckled to himself softly, 

"Are you in the dress? The dress you've been hiding from me for the last month and a half?" He smirked as soon as he saw you nodding your head and practically began to sprint up the staircase to come and see you. He'd been dying to see you in it since the moment you told him you found the perfect outfit you squealed hiding in the bedroom again. The main reason you'd hidden the dress from Chan was that you wanted it to be a surprise for him to see on the night that and you were nervous about what he would think of it. The bedroom door swung open and Chan stood there for a second just taking in the sight of you. 

"Babe..." He breathed out as soon as he saw you standing there, you were doing your best to look as good as possible since you weren't dolled up yet or had the finished look on.

"I-I'm not finished yet, I still have to put on my makeup and do my hair but then I'll be ready by the time you are." You reassured him as you did a small turn in the dress giving him a full look at the dress. Chan's mouth was hanging open just a little as he continued to take in every angle of the dress you were wearing, struggling to find the right words to say as he stared at you. For someone who often wrote songs, he was finding it hard to speak at the minute which made you more nervous about his thoughts on it all.

"G-Go shower," You giggled as he continued to stare, you pushed him into the bathroom before sitting down at the vanity in your shared bedroom staring at yourself in the mirror. Trying not to let your insecure mind take over and run wild with thoughts you knew couldn't be true. He hates what you're wearing you know. Did you see the look on his face? He's never been more disgusted by you then he is right now and he's going to be so embarrassed at the party tonight. You look awful.

As you got ready your mind kept lingering back to the look he'd given you when he first saw you in the gown made you anxious about it, you couldn't quite read what it meant. The thoughts in your head continued to race about how awful you look and then going over the look on Chan's face. Overanalysing every last interaction you had with him before he went into the shower. You couldn't decide if it was a good or a bad stare that he'd been giving you, then the way his voice sounded when he called you "babe..." It felt as though he was embarrassed about what you were wearing and didn't know how to tell you. 

"Y/n?" Chan called out for the third time in a row as he tried to gain your attention but you were lost in your own space, you turned to look over your shoulder at Chan who was fully dressed in his tux, struggling to do up the cuff links on his shirt.

"Help?" He whimpered out as he continued to struggle with them, you got up without a word and buttoned up the cuff links which were shaped as the doodle he always drew. You'd gotten them custom made for Christmas last year never thinking he would wear them but as a small gag gift. 

"You're in your own world again, what's going on in that gorgeous brain of yours?" Chan questioned when he noticed you hadn't spoken in a while, you shook your head giving him the biggest convincing smile you could manage not wanting to ruin the evening with your head. 

"Nothing. Can you do my choker up for me?" You slid the small diamond choker into his hands and he turned you around, doing up the small necklace before he placed a soft and gentle kiss on the back of your neck. 

"We'll be late, come on," He tapped your shoulder softly as he headed out of the bedroom and down the staircase, the car that was picking you up for the night was waiting outside with the rest of the boys and their dates inside. Thoughts came rushing back to you as you thought about how great they were all going to look, all of them slimmer than you and probably more beautiful too. You'd only met Changbin's date before and never the rest, 

"Baby? Come on, they're waiting." Chan rushed you as he saw you standing still at the door he was already near the car when he noticed you weren't behind him. He frowned to himself before going back to your side and linking your arms together so you didn't have to walk alone. 

"I don't want to be late, I have some last-minute things to set up." He mumbled into your ear pressing a soft kiss against your head as he walked with you towards the car opening the door so you could get in beside Felix and his date who was smiling and introducing herself but all you could see was how gorgeous she looked in comparison to you.

"Y/n," You whispered as she reached out to shake your hand, then you began introducing yourself to everyone else the boys were with and went back to sitting in silence. Your mind kicking you in the head for not dressing up more. All of them looked expensive tonight and fully glammed out compared to you, you were beginning to feel like you were underdressed of the occasion. 

"I had my makeup and hair done by one of the stylists, Hannie arranged it all for me. Who did yours?" Jisung's date questioned you as she looked at you, you'd already forgotten her name after being in the car for five minutes which you felt bad about but couldn't help. 

"O-oh I did it, I did my own hair and makeup," You said proudly as you smiled at her but the look on her face wasn't one of being impressed she just glanced you up and down while nodding and humming to herself. 

"It's...lovely, you look good." Good. You could tell by the way she said the word that she didn't mean it at all. Maybe that's what they were all thinking, you sank back against the seat as you felt more eyes on you but you tried to ignore it turning to look at your boyfriend but he was busy. Chan was lost in conversation with Changbin about something they were auctioning off so you couldn't drop into a conversation with him about anything so you were forced to let your brain overthink once again. Look at how much better they look, far more expensive than this piece of fabric you're wearing and look at Chan. Not even paying attention to you, instead, he's talking to Changbin and staring at Lila, Lila and Changbin look cute together. Your dress is tacky. Your makeup is awful, you saw the way they all looked at you, you know it's true. 

Your mind continued to go on throughout the rest of the journey making you imagine how great the others were going to turn out in the press photos while yours wouldn't look good at all. As you went to get out of the car Chan's hand on your wrist stopped you,

"Why are we not getting out?" You asked softly as he stopped you from getting out after the rest of them had already left, he reached across and shut the door behind them.

"I have something to do first," He mumbled as he tapped on the glass that separated the driver from the rest of the limo, you frowned at him as the car began to move you stared out of the window. The limo was moving around the back of the building until you reached a back entrance to the Four Season's hotel away from where every person and camera could potentially see you together. This is what it used to be like when you first started dating, taking back entrances and avoiding being spotted together but that was over now. Your relationship had been out for a year and most of STAY loved you and how happy you seemed to make Chan.

"Come on," He took your hand in his as he hurried you into the building after getting out of the car, you picked up the bottom of your dress not wanting to stand in any of the puddles that were in the back ally behind the hotel. 

"Why are we going through the back?" You questioned laughing softly thinking it was just like old times but Chan didn't seem to laugh.

"I have something to do, go and get a drink at the bar." He told you as he walked you into a small room where a group of people were all standing around and waiting, one man on the bar who looked bored. It didn't look like they were apart of the JYP gala so you turned to check if Chan had the right room,

"Chan?" You called out but he was already out of the room before you had a chance to say anything to him the door was already shut in your face and an elderly lady smiled as she walked over to you. 

"You look very beautiful dear," You smiled back at her, thanking her as you looked around the room trying to figure out why you were left back here while Chan walked off to do whatever it was he was doing. 

"Are you here for the charity gala?" You questioned kindly as you both walked over to the bar to get a drink together, you held onto her arm being careful she didn't fall and break a hip. 

An hour later Chan still hadn't come back to see you and the elderly lady you'd been talking with was taken away and then slowly one by one the room began to empty until it was just you sitting at a table alone. Even the man that had been serving at the bar left to go and do something else. You'd called and text Chan over 12 times asking what was happening but there was no response from him, 

"If he didn't want me to come why invite me?" You mumbled to yourself as you pushed your phone back into your bag trying not to let your brain overwork itself. Playing around with one of the coasters as you tried to entertain yourself for a while

"Y/n?" You dropped the coaster and turned around when you heard a familiar voice call out your name, standing by the door was Brian, Young K, from day6. He frowned when he saw you sitting alone at the table when not too long ago he'd just passed by Chan who was in the main function room alone. He glanced inside of the room wondering why you were in there alone thinking maybe you'd had a fight or you were just trying to get some air.

"Why are you in here?" He nodded for you to come out so you followed him out and into the hallway immediately not wanting to be cramped up in there all night. 

"Chan said he had something to do and to wait for him," You felt a pit begin to grow in the bottom of your stomach as you read the look across Young K's face. It was clear he was trying to come up with some kind of lie to tell you, 

"I just saw him, he told me to come and get you, come on." You could tell it was a lie but you went along with it anyway not wanting to throw a wrench in his evening. You just followed Brian out into the main area and gasping as you looked around at everything in the room, it was more impressive than you could have imagined. The entire hall looked incredible, it was covered in expensive-looking decorations, white table cloths everywhere and everyone looked like they belonged there in huge dresses, ball gowns and suits. Making you feel more out of place than before since you were only in a simple dress for this kind of thing, 

"He's over here," You followed behind Brian who was trying to push through the crowds of people everyone talking over one another as they tried to hear each other over the music. 

"Chan, I brought Y/n, like you asked me too." The tone of voice from Brian made it clear that Chan hadn't asked him to come and get you at all and was trying to make Chan go along with it. You came out from standing behind Brian and smiled at Chan who was standing with Sana and Mina both of them looking stunning in their dresses. Each of them wearing white princess silhouette gowns with matching necklaces around their necks. They looked amazing but what else was new? They always looked breathtakingly beautiful.

"Hi babe, thanks Brian I owe you one." The two of them exchanged looks and you stared down at the ground trying not to feel self-conscious in front of the two most attractive girls you knew in the building.

"You guys look insanely beautiful," You complimented when you finally got the courage to speak to them, Sana went to thank you when Chan shook his head at you, 

"Babe don't. Don't be weird," Your chest tensed as your heart clenched in on itself on what Chan had said to you so you went back to staring at the floor and not wanting to say anything to them in case Chan said it was weird again.  

"Alone again?" Brian chuckled as he came up behind you at the bar, you smiled weakly at him as you glanced over at Chan who was still standing with Mina and Sana as they engaged in conversation again. Since you'd joint them it had been an awkward and dulling silence but the moment you left them it was back to talking with one another.

"Any idea why they're in matching necklaces and almost identical outfits?" Brian looked back over at the girls and then pointed out the rest of the twice members that were in the same kind of outfits, 

"They're being auctioned off to other idols and celebrities for a day out. Did Chan not tell you any of this?" You shook your head as you glanced around the room at everyone,

"He told me there would be auctions but not what was up for auction," You shrugged your shoulders passing it off as something Chan forgot to mention to you, 

"Chan and Changbin have produced some songs that are up for grabs, the boys are up for auction as well as me-" He flashed the number that was on his tie '345' and then smiled as he went back to explaining. 

"People will get the chance to bid on us for days out, meals we'll pay for and such. All the money going to the charities of tonight's event." As he explained everything the drinks you'd ordered were placed down in front of you and He paid for the drinks before you could making you sigh at him you hated whenever someone would pay for you.

"Gotta be quicker than that to pay," He nudged you playfully as he helped you carry the drinks over to Chan who was watching you both closely wondering what it was you were talking about. 

"You should bid on me tonight, I've seen who wants to and I would much rather you have me for a day than someone them." He teased placing the drinks down onto the table while Chan eyed you up carefully again as he tried to make out what was making you laugh. 

"What's so funny?" He questioned when he heard your small giggle leave your throat, 

"Brian wanting me to bid on him-" You tried to explain but Chan cut you off quickly,

"Young K." Chan corrected you as he heard you call him Brian but Brian didn't mind what he was called, it just for joke purposes when he would yell out that he didn't know who Brian was.

"It's okay Chan, she can call me whatever she wants." Brian tried to laugh it off but it was clear Chan didn't find any of what was happening funny so you stayed silent on the matter and sipped on your drink. 

"Y/n won't be bidding on anything tonight anyway," You frowned as Chan spoke on your behalf and you shook your head you'd made sure to pack your purse for the sole purpose of bidding on things. 

"Why not?" You questioned as you looked to him for an answer, 

"You don't need to." He mumbled as he turned to look at Chanbin who was calling his name from another part of the room. 

"I have to go on stage to be auctioned off. Stay here. Don't go anywhere." His voice was stern so you just obeyed him not wanting to test him when he seemed he was already in a bad mood for whatever reason tonight. You stayed by the table watching over his drinks and the girls as they walked away to go and get ready for their stage time. 

"I have to go as well, cheer up. Bid on whatever you want. Don't let grumpy pants put you in a bad mood." Brian winked at you before leaving to go and join the rest of the guys that were lining up. JYP already standing on the stage clutching a microphone as he announced what was going to happen and how people were supposed to bid on what or who they wanted. Writing down the number of what they wanted on a form and placing their highest bid on the sheet of paper before disclosing it into the boxes at the bars. At the end of the night, the winners would be announced in front of everyone and what they had won. 

"Fuck it." You whispered to yourself going over to the bar again as you began writing down the number and how much you wanted to bid on. 

"Having fun?" You turned to see the same elderly lady from earlier standing at the bar with you and you smiled at her,

"Lots. Are you?" She nodded over at someone in the crowd and told you that her son was being very nice to her after leaving her in the waiting room for so long.  

"Who are you with?" She questioned as she wrote down who she was bidding on before slipping it into the box, 

"My boyfriend, Chan from erm Stray kids." You pointed at Chan who was standing on the stage and she smiled at you rubbing your arms softly,

"Very cute, I can't wait to see the press images of you together. Those are always my favourite, and then the photo booth ones from inside the entrance hall...." Your heart sank as you realised there would be no photographs of you and Chan together tonight and then your head convinced you it was because he hated the way you looked in the dress you were wearing. That being the only explanation for sending you through the back entrance tonight instead of the main one where everyone else had gone and then leaving you in the "waiting room". 

"Y-Yeah, I can't wait to see them." You lied as you excused yourself back to your table to wait for Chan to come back and get his drinks. 

He never went back to the table he was the social butterfly he always was going over to different people in the room and talking with them while he avoided your direction altogether. You didn't blame him though, you loved how much he got along with everyone he met but you just wished he would come and see you for a while.

"Can I clean up for you?" A young waiter asked as he came over to the table, you recognised him as one of the trainees and you shook your head at him.

"No, it's okay. Chan will be over soon." At least you hoped he would be but the longer you stood there the less likely it seemed to be as he kept getting further and further away from you. The moment you saw him getting further away you sighed to yourself,

"A-Actually, just clean it up." You whispered to the trainee before heading in the direction of where the toilet signs were wanting to freshen yourself up a little before you went to ask Chan to go to the photo booth together. You at least wanted something good to come out of tonight. A small photo of you both together to go on your wall back home, it would be cute.

"I mean did you say her dress? Looks like she got it at a discount store," You heard Lila's voice fill the women's bathroom followed by some girly giggles as people followed her into the room. You looked at the door of the toilet booth you were sitting in and bit down on your lip, you were about to leave when they had walked into the room. Mentally thanking yourself for not going out when you wanted to.

"Lila! That's Chan's girlfriend you can't say things like that," You knew that that was Felix's girlfriend trying to defend you but it didn't work since Lila only threw back another comment about you. 

"I'm being nice but not telling her to her face. I mean we all went all out. The least she could have done was dress up nice, why do you think Chan made them go around the back?" She started sniggering to herself and the girls joined in, 

"He doesn't want to be seen with her in that tacky looking dress," She started laughing harder and your heart sank as she confirmed your fears about Chan forcing you to enter through the back entrance.

"I heard he was going to leave her in the waiting room all night with the elderly ones, the only reason she's come out is that Young K found her and felt sorry for her," Tears began to well up in your eyes as you heard them speak about you as though you were nothing. 

"What does she do again?" Jisung's girlfriend asked as she applied lipstick onto her lips passing the colour over to someone else as they all checked themselves out. 

"Apart from clinging onto Chan and live off of his money?" Someone laughed loudly and you rolled your head back against the door wanting nothing more than for them all to leave the room so you could get out in one piece. The back exit of the hotel looking more and more attractive as the seconds ticked by.

"She's a nurse, that's why they're so good together cause they understand how busy the other one gets." Someone you didn't recognise said to them in a softer tone trying to get them to stop being so mean but the rest of the girls all scoffed. 

"Whatever. The least she could have done is tried to look presentable." The doors all shut behind them and you could have sunk down onto the floor in a pool of tears but you stopped yourself, coming out of the stall to look at yourself in the mirror. They were right, why would Chan want you to go around the front when you were dressed like this. You cleaned your hands before heading out into the hall bumping straight into Lila and the girls who all stared at you in horror as they realised you'd heard everything they'd been saying in there and then Lila smirked shrugging her shoulders when you met her gaze. 

"E-Excuse me," You mumbled pushing yourself out of their way and heading towards the main doors wanting to leave when cameras began flashing. The girls all began to laugh as you backed away from the doors going into the main function room to find a way back out. 

"I know, it looks awful. I tried to tell her but I didn't know how to so I just stayed silent." Chan was standing in front of you talking to Jisung and Felix and you felt your heart clench even more than it did when you were trapped in the bathroom. Even your own boyfriend thought you looked awful, everything confirming for you that it was the reason he'd taken you through the back and tried to leave you there for the night. 

"I swear if it wasn't for you guys I wouldn't have come, it's so embarrassing." He let out a breathy chuckle not noticing the look he was getting from Felix when he spotted you behind him but you just walked away in silence keeping your head down as you tried to find the fastest route out of there.

"Y/n? Where are you going their about to announce some of the winners." Brian said as he noticed you heading towards the back door of the room your hand resting on the door as you stopped to speak to him so you didn't seem rude since he'd been the kindest to you all night.

"H-Home, not feeling too great." You lied as you looked at him, Chan watching from behind as he noticed that you were alone with Brian again. Jealously bubbling inside of him as he made his way over to you. Lila and her friends all gathered at the bar to start watching smirking at one another at what was about to unfold in front of them. 

"I'll walk you out, come on." Brian nodded over to the front entrance again and you shook your head fear rising in you at the thought of going out of the main doors. 

"I-I'll go out the back. I wouldn't want to risk embarrassing someone with how awful I look tonight." Brian frowned watching you walk out of the door as he tried to figure out what you meant by all of that.

"Chan what did-" He stopped trying to ask what you meant when Chan stormed out of the room after you, not saying anything to anyone as he just left the venue. 

"Leave me alone," You mumbled to Chan as he tried to convince you to talk to him for the 100th time in a row, you'd gotten into the same cab since he left not long after you and demanded you talk to him but you couldn't. You didn't trust yourself not to cry in front of him in the taxi ride and now you were home all you wanted to do was get out of the dress and sleep for a week, never to be seen again. Along with burning the dress the moment you had the chance to. 

"Y/n, we have to talk about this! What is wrong with you tonight?" He questioned but you kicked off your heels and continued walking up the staircase towards the bedroom, taking out the earrings and putting them into the jewellery box on the vanity. You ignored his question not wanting to get into it but he just kept pushing you for answers.

"You've been in an awful mood all night, what's your problem?!" He questioned once he saw you struggling to undo the zip on the back of your dress. Your arms fell down in defeat as he had the nerve to tell you that you were the one in the bad mood, 

"I've been in a bad mood?" You questioned as you stared at him dumbfounded that he was accusing you of being the one in a bad mood. 

"What's your problem? We went out for a nice night and you've ruined it by leaving early." You rolled your eyes as you went back to struggling to reach the zip at the back of your dress, 

"You could have stayed there, lord knows you were having fun without me before I came in with Brian." You mumbled to yourself, wanting to scream out in annoyance with the dress when you couldn't get it undone quick enough.

"Talk to me when you're out of this mood," He grumbled at you as he turned to leave the bedroom, you sniffled as the tears you'd been holding in all night finally began to pour down your cheeks. 

"If you were so embarrassed by what I was wearing you should have just told me! Instead of going to great lengths to keep me hidden away from every person and camera possible." You breathed out as you stared at the back of his head, his shoulders tensed up as he turned back to look at you. 

"Is that what you thought I was doing?" His eyes softened as he stared at you waiting for your answer,

"No. Its what I know you were doing. I-I heard Lila and that in the bathroom, f-for fuck sake Chan you made me go through the back entrance and left me in a waiting room for an hour! Completely forgetting I was there!" The tears came gushing down your cheeks as the night stayed clear in your head. Your hands began to shake as you tried to get the dress off your body but it wouldn't budge. The zipper staying in place as you continued to try and get it off you,

"G-Get it off me, please." You stumbled over your words continuing to struggle until you cried out, 

"Get this fucking thing off me!" Your hands began shaking viciously as you tried to get the dress to come undone Chan wrapped his arms around you from behind as he began unzipping the dress for you as he helped you out of it. The two of you sunk down onto your knees as he brought you into his chest but you moved away from him, shaking your head as you cried. 

"I never meant for you to think that-" He tried to defend himself but you shook your head again, your mind going back to what you heard him say before.

"I heard what you were telling the boys, that I look awful and I'm embarrassing you...Next time save me the embarrassment and tell me." You got up from the floor heading to the en-suite when Chan stopped you by pressing his body against yours. His heart was racing you could feel it on your bare back as he wrapped his arms around you from behind as he shook his head. Promising you that it wasn't you that he was talking about.

"Baby no, N-No. I wasn't talking about you." He sighed, leaving kisses up and down your shoulder as he tried to reassure you that it wasn't you that he'd been talking about. The more he kissed you the harder you cried not wanting him to lie to you, 

"I heard you, I heard Lila and the girls. Y-You should have told me at home and I wouldn't have gone Chan. You wouldn't have to have gone to great lengths in hiding me." He turned you around to face him but you avoided his gaze keeping your eyes turned to the floor until he cupped your face in his hand.

"Whatever Lila said is a lie, I took you through the back because I know how insecure you are about cameras, I didn't want you to be uncomfortable with them." He whispered to you as he bent down to look into your eyes whenever you would move them off him, 

"I left you in the back room while I went to finish working on a song. I was on my way when Sana and Mina asked me to stand with them..." You scoffed at his poor attempt at an excuse, the first one you could believe but not this one, 

"Yeah, right. Like I was born yesterday." You swatted his hands away from your body but he pulled you back to him not letting you get away from him that easily. Not when he had to tell you the truth and make you see the truth. 

"I'm not and never will be embarrassed to be seen with you. What would make you think anything like that?" He reassured you as he kissed your forehead, 

"Y-You didn't say anything when you saw the dress at home and then when we went through the back I thought maybe it was true...T-Then Lila in the bathroom-" A sob interrupted you as you cried out again feeling pathetic for crying over something like this in front of him, 

"Then when I was leaving you said how awful someone looked and how embarrassing it was..." Chan could see why you thought he was doing the best he could to keep you hidden but he shook his head.

"Lila is a piece of work, I'll talk with Changbin about it later. Y/n. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on...You could have rocked up in a bin bag and I would have loved you for it." He whispered as he sat you down on the edge of the bed beside you, linking his hands with yours as he tried to get you to listen to him and pay attention. 

"The only thing embarrassing about tonight was that Lila won a day with me, she didn't bother bidding on anything except for me. The thing I said looked awful..." You looked up at him with your eyes teared up and bloodshot, he cupped your face in his hands as he shook his head leaning down to peck your lips.

"Was Sana's necklace, none of them wanted to wear them but their managers said it looked great. I didn't have the heart to say it didn't." Everything he was telling you was starting to make sense, deep down inside Chan would never do anything or say anything that could hurt you but in those moments your head did all of the overthinking for you.

"I'm sorry." You whispered to him as you snuggled your head into his chest, his arms automatically wrapping around your body as he whispered that it was okay. 

"I love you, you looked stunning tonight babe." He whispered to you as he pressed small kisses on the top of your head repeating it over and over to you. 

"I really do love the dress..." He whispered as you sniffled against him again, 

"I love you too Channie," You whispered to him not answering him on the dress subject since it was just bringing bad memories to your mind. 

"Come on. Let's get you into a nice hot shower and then I'll make us a hot drink." He tapped your side carefully as he helped you up from the bed turning to leave for the bathroom when his phone started vibrating from inside his pocket. 

"You bid on Brian-Hyung?" He stared at his phone as he read the text from Brian, glancing over his shoulder you smirked to see the smirking emojis from the older idol, 

Tell Y/n to put on her dancing shoes we're going to have a great day! You started giggling to yourself as you pulled Chan towards the bathroom trying to make him forget about it, 

"I'll swap my day with Lila for your day with Brian Hyung," He mumbled as he looked at you not wanting to get jealous over you and Brian again. 

"How about we just dump the day with Lila and you come with me and Brian?" You questioned as a text came through to your phone confirming your win on both Chan and Brian for a day together, outbidding Lila by a mile by the looks of it. 

"Did I ever mention that you're the best girlfriend a guy could ask for?" You shook your head as Chan picked you up carefully and carried you towards the bathroom, 

"I don't think you've ever mentioned it Christopher. Tell me please," You giggled as he kicked the bathroom door shut and began explaining all of the reasons you were so great to you.

Tagline: @taestannie​ @channiewoo​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @minholuvs​ @lkwonmj​

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (July 6/2021) - Prime Path Renovations

Ponk experiences a setback. He and Foolish discuss Plan 69 together. It’s only a matter of time.

Tommy decides to clear some of the crowded area along the Prime Path by working with Foolish, Antfrost, Ponk, Sam and Bad to tear some unused buildings (and Pride decorations) down. 

After Puffy discovers that her L’Targay was one of the builds destroyed, she decides to retaliate.

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Foolish

Tommyinnit

Captain Puffy

Michaelmcchill

---

- Ponk tests out his TNT launcher and attempts to fly

- After one of the test runs goes wrong, Ponk dies in an explosion and loses all his items, including the trident. Sammy Wammy is lost forever

- It may be time to activate Plan 69. As Ponk says, it’s all about leverage...

- Ponk retrieves some items, puts on the creeper head and grabs Warden’s Will, Sam’s sword, from his underground base 

- Later, Foolish comes online and Ponk meets him at the bank, doing his best Sam impression in the creeper head. She informs him that the plan is coming together, but there is a setback (Ponk claims she was testing the security system on the bank with Sam’s voice)

- The time is soon for Ponk’s arm plan. They show Foolish a chest. Foolish opens it and looks at the contents -- the leverage -- with his screen hidden. He’s shocked

Ponk: “Foolish! It was never in vain! I am twenty steps ahead, Foolish! I am a master of chess! I am the master!”

Foolish: “Do you realize that thing -- that is nuts! Does anyone else know about that?”

Ponk: “No! No one knows, Foolish! No one knows!” (laughs)

Foolish: “And that was like -- I guess I may have to ask you later to explain where you got it, but...”

- Foolish gives Ponk some resources

Ponk: “Our time will come. We will meet again. Very soon, hopefully.”

Foolish: “But you realize -- like, what you have, though -- there’s more than just the thing that we could do, like there’s a lot more--”

Ponk: “Foolish! I am a self-centered person, Foolish. It is only for my gain! And maybe yours!”

Foolish: “Yes, but we could also do it for other gains!”

Ponk: “No! No, Foolish. No, Foolish...Some people are meant to be, in the places they are meant to be. Okay? Alright. I will see you -- I’ll see you later, Foolish.”

- They part ways

- Tommy establishes Spud Lore

- He meets Foolish on the Prime Path and asks about BadBoyHalo’s promo codes. Tommy takes down the charity sign

- He gets Foolish to take off his armor as they continue. He has figured out that no one likes rich people

- They make it back to Tommy’s house. Tommy takes his riches out of his Ender Chest and puts them in a chest

- To clear out some room, they start taking down the gingerbread house and Antfrost logs on, telling them to get away. Ant meets them at the house and they talk

- Tommy informs Antfrost that it is no longer Christmas. Ant is willing to help them take down other things, and Tommy claims partial ownership of the gingerbread house

- Next, Tommy sneaks into the Targay. They decide it’s suitable to bulldoze

- Mario interrupts. Tommy informs him that Targay has been “opening soon” for half a year. Yoshi arrives as well, but they quickly start taking it down

- Technoblade logs on just to suggest they tear down the prison

- Tommy asks Ant about his love life and how it’s going

- Tubbo joins the call and informs him of the copious amounts of TNT in his possession

- Tommy cleans up the Definitely Not Blood while Tubbo pokes Ranboo

- He also wants to make a trapped Freebies Chest

- Sam logs on while Tommy burns down the rainbow wall. Since Antfrost is there, it’s allowed

- The biggest challenge is the flag above the Community House, which is immensely prideful and an unfortunate image to destroy. Tommy takes down the Pride Flag. Antfrost simply watches

- They put the blocks in the Freebies Chest

- Next, they go to inspect the prison. Tommy hates the prison. Antfrost states that it would be a conflict of interest for him, since he works there

- Sam appears at the prison entrance and tells them to stop. Foolish tries to bargain with scaffolding

- Foolish puts on Sam’s head and they face off with Warden Sam. Tommy puts on his own creeper head and proclaims that they should get rid of this prison, as the prison system is flawed! 

- Foolish brought pot. Antfrost brought weednip

- Tommy and Foolish go through the prison entrance portal and it gets deactivated by an explosion

- Tommy has a flint and steel and Sam begs them to try and re-light it. Tommy has leverage. Sam says he has something on him that Tommy would like. Tommy takes the deal and they go back through the portal

- Sam gives Tommy stacks of TNT and the group heads off again to the obsidian Nether Portal cube

- They start deactivating it and Ponk logs on

- Tommy takes down Dream’s honeymoon resort (the iron door structure)

- Sam suggests they take down Ninja’s house, but Tommy protests. This is iconic. He tries to call Ninja

- Foolish starts taking it down to test how it feels. They explode the rest and Tommy keeps the bed for good luck

Tommy: “i’m not gonna Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss Ninja Fortnite Blevins, Sam! It just wouldn’t work! I’m no girlboss. I’m merely a manloser.”

- Tommy goes to mine dirt in sorrow. Ponk speaks to them, arriving in his Robin outfit. They explore the invisible staircase

- Next, they go to take down Ponk’s pumpkin trap

- Foolish wonders what would happen if they tried to kill the dragon. He says if you kill the dragon, you get “XD” in your name and get Creative mode. Tommy doesn’t want to risk it

- Foolish kisses himself on his elbow. Self-love

- Antfrost’s eyes turn red from the weednip and he hands some to everyone. Foolish gets high and turns into Batman

- Tommy towers up and gets rid of the last of the Y:7 sign. They start talking about Tinder

- Tommy gets Phil to join VC, asking him to tell them about Big Russ

- He calls Bad to ask about the YouTooz codes. Bad says to ask Sam. Sam does not know

- They go to the Hall of Fame and debate killing Drista’s dog. Drista’s dog dies

- Everyone goes to the graveyard by Punz’s backyard and stand on the grave. Foolish says it would be very spiritual for Tommy to blow up his own grave

- Tommy suggests they bring back the Socializing Club. Ponk says it’s the essential oils shop

- Sam runs over to blow up Wilbur’s ball (owned by Tommy) but Tommy refuses, saying he would kill Sam if he did

- Tommy leaves the group to go get some more dirt

- Ponk tells Sam that he lost the trident today as well as all his things

- They chat some more and Sam tells Foolish that Bad is "on grinder.” Foolish asks him if he’s verified on it. Sam asks if he’s spoken with Skeppy about it

- Tommy joins the VC again with a “’sup, bitches.” Sam tells Tommy that Bad is “on grinder for the experience”

- Tommy says he wants more people to be on the server more often and Foolish and Sam start comparing their server statistics. Tommy has 13 days on the server. Sam has 95 days

- Tommy concludes that he must be Foolish’s father figure and calls Foolish “son”

- Once Tommy leaves, the three go to destroy the ball but Phil joins VC to tell them that if they did that, Wilbur would cry, so they don’t 

- Bad tells Ant they should go to Foolish’s summer home to destroy the things that aren’t being used there. They discuss what to destroy and destroy a red tulip

- Then they destroy Ponk’s essential oils shop 

- Bad and Ant argue over who gets claim to Alyssa’s house. They go around various areas debating what to destroy

- They go to L’manburg and take down Fundy’s election whitehouse

- Afterwards, they go down into L’manhole and clear the Blood Vines off of the flag

- Foolish and Antfrost go back to Las Nevadas

- Puffy has heard that some damage has been done. She’s been told that there were several people there, including a certain muffinhead, a furry, and most importantly, a child (and also Foolish and Sam)

- Puffy turns on the slow Able Sisters Theme and logs on, immediately seeing the cleared-out L’Targay plot

Puffy: “What in the corporation is this shit?!”

- She walks down the Prime Path, surveying the damage, until she sees that they got rid of the flag as well

- There is now room for retribution. This seems to have been targeted at her

- Puffy goes to Tommy’s house. She could either destroy Tommy’s base, or cover it in rainbows...or...

- She spies the Big Innit Hotel in the background. They could take it a step further...

- She pulls up the stream footage for receipts. She sees Tommy start to destroy the gingerbread house and learns that Antfrost stopped it. Puffy is enraged

- She wonders what Tommy’s favorite tower is and makes her way to the Disruption Tower

- Puffy gets disrupted by the Disruption Tower and then takes part of it down. She gets Disrupted for a few minutes mining before finding out that it was the wrong tower, and it was the Power Tower that was Tommy’s favorite

Puffy: “Blackstone? I thought Tommy hated blackstone.”

- After walking past it several times, Puffy finally identifies the right tower as the Power Tower

- She gets some TNT and explodes Tommy’s house. While storing the dropped items in chests, she notices that Tommy has Schlatt’s bones

- She still remembers when she was living out of a turkey and the turkey was destroyed. While others helped, Tommy was the one who incited it. The others will get repercussions as well though

- Puffy builds Tommy’s house into a mini L’Targay so that when Tommy uses his house, he will finally be using L’Targay as well

- Next, Puffy takes down Antfrost’s gingerbread house and comes across the bathwater chamber 

- She goes to Foolish’s summer home to put mustaches on all the statues, but is disappointed to find that they already have mustaches. She starts putting a brown hat on the sphinx when Quackity joins VC

- Quackity asks why Puffy is putting hats on all of Foolish’s builds, and Quackity tells her to leave him alone. Puffy informs him that Foolish is her son. They go back and forth about Puffy’s full name (Puff Big Daddy)

- Quackity is not BadBoyHalo’s mistress

- Puffy tells him about Tommy blowing up all the rainbows, so she blew up Tommy’s house. They chat a bit

- Foolish logs on, Puffy asks him why he helped in the destruction of Targay and Foolish says it was character development

- Then Quackity tells Puffy about how Tommy got exiled. Namely, that Tubbo betrayed him (he does an impression of Tubbo). Foolish sneaks around behind them

Puffy: “Do you think it would be wrong to kill my son on the server?”

Puffy: “Like do I pull a Philza?”

- Quackity says not to even think about touching Foolish. Puffy invites Foolish to the call and Quackity tells Foolish that he is Quackity’s beloved and then starts talking about metabolism articles

- They continue chatting. Puffy shows Foolish the top hats and Foolish says they actually used to have hats not too long ago

- Foolish shows off his Batman skin and Quackity becomes the Joker. They roleplay until the Joker suggests they have a threesome and abruptly cease the bit

- Foolish and Puffy head over to Las Nevadas. Foolish shows Quackity the progress he’s made on the sand and the hotel. They keep doing the Batman impressions, now with an added Bane impression

Quackity: Imagine Bane and the Joker kissing

Foolish: Can we do that?

- They talk quite a bit about Wattpad

- Foolish changes into his Superman skin

- Quackity leaves and Foolish and Puffy continue to talk in Las Nevadas

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

been a while since i posted a fic update! anyone wanna read some cowboy au nonsense? sure you do! well here it is

The blinding, unforgiving midday heat is enough to raise blisters on the skin. Looking out over a crowd of folks booing him, calling for his demise, probably should have had some kind of emotional impact. On the occasion of one’s death, after all, one does expect tears. Flowers, laid out in lace, dark veils and coal black clothes, a few muffled sobs from those further back in the funerary procession, unable to contain themselves. Instead he’s met with the dusty faces of former neighbors and strangers alike, all eagerly waiting to hear the exact tone and pitch that his neck will make when it snaps.

Bored, he turns his attention from the crowd, and watches a lizard scurry across the wooden planks of the gallows, as a man to his right fits a rough bit of rope around his neck. It scratches, but he doesn’t react, not feeling frightened or even especially interested. A similar rough twine is binding his hands together behind his back, keeping him from having any viable way to save himself. The crowd is calling for blood now. Hangings generally are not gorey affairs, but he did once see a drop too sudden and a rope so long that the fella wasn’t just hung, he was decapitated. Beetlejuice glances back down at the crowd, tries to imagine what direction his head would roll if that happened here, and smirks, because it seems to him the last thing he’d see would be the view from inside the skirts of some of the women standing front and center. Not the worst last sight a man could have. “You think you could hurry this along?” he asks the man fitting the noose around his neck. “Sun’s beatin’ down somethin’ fierce an’ I ain’t got my hat.” His personal possessions are back at the sheriff’s office- hat, bandana, silver plated, pearl handled pistol, and his custom belt buckle, just about the nicest, and maybe only, thing he ever paid for. God damn corrupt lawman’s probably gonna pawn his stuff as soon as he’s swinging. Maybe before. Maybe his last worldly possessions are already gone. S’not like he’ll need them, where he’s goin.

A face he recognizes is led up from the crowd, an ancient wizened body tanned for years by the all too eager sunlight and scorching sands. It’s the local preacher, who he remembers from his formative years. The old man used to give him bread and plain, unseasoned chicken in return for listening to him talk about god, and if he hadn’t been nearly starved to death half the time, he might have spat in the old man’s face. Shouldn't charity be done for the sake of charity, not proselytizing? He’d said so once, and that was the last meal the old miser had given him. Jackass.

“Beetlejuice,” the preacher begins. His name is said with disdain and a curled upper lip. It’s one of the reasons he chose it, honestly. “You still have time to repent, young man. I remember you, as a child, bright eyed, curious about the kingdom of heaven.” Well now, that’s the very definition of taking artist liberty. “Now, here, you have one more chance to repent, to accept god’s mercy, and avoid the lake of fire.” The crowd is watching, waiting to see if he will confess his remorse. Beetlejuice hums, rocks on the balls of his feet, and then sighs. “.. C’mere,” He mumbles, jerking his head to indicate the old man should step closer. The holy man does. “I got a lot to confess to, preacher man, an’ not much time.” His voice is soft. The ailing man can’t hear him, steps closer, if only a little. “So much to confess to, in fact, I oughta just… Skip th’ whole thing an’ go straight to hell!” And Beetlejuice reels back, and then slams his forehead into the old man’s face. The sickeningly satisfying crunch of cartilage tells him he’s broken the preacher’s nose, as the elderly man falls back, crying out in pain, blood gushing from his new wound. The crowd roars, furious, and he grins, and laughs. “Ain’t no good extendin’ your pious pity to me!” he calls, gleeful, as he’s pelted with whatever the people watching can get their hands on, and the old man is helped, taken away, led off of the platform. “Enough, enough, we will have order!” a lawman cries, coming up the gallow steps, to stand in front of the outlaw. It’s enough to get the crowd to settle, or at least stop throwing things. There’s still a bad energy in the air, which Beetlejuice can taste on the tip of his tongue. His smile is rictus, he’s delighted to be the cause of it all.

“This man has been tried and found guilty,” the lawman continues. The trial had been very short, and his incarceration shorter. He understands he’s being made an example of to other outlaws, bandits, and trouble makers. They intentionally didn’t give him any time to plan anything, or for any coconspirators to come and assist him. Joke’s on them. They could have taken all the time in the world. Ain’t nobody alive who cares for this outlaw. Not a soul who would dare to come and stage a rescue. He’s utterly alone. “He’s allowed his last words. Clearly,” the lawman turns, eyes Beetlejuice, who smiles flirtatiously. The other man’s expression shifts from annoyance to disgust. “He’s disavowed the advice of Pastor Neighbors.” “M’not so sure you’re usin’ that word right, friend,” Beetlejuice snorts, but he’s ignored. “Any last words?” the hangman to his right asks, his hand itching to grip the lever that will drop the floor and finally, finally, release the outlaw from the confines of mortal life.

Beetlejuice grins.

“If any of you have a message for th’ devil, give it to me!” he shouts, with a cackle, and he watches in rapt and morbid delight at the way the faces in the crowd twist. “I’ll carry it down to hell for you!” The crowd is furious enough it almost seems to him they’re going to storm the platform, and maybe beat him to death. The wave of gasps from the women folk is particularly amusing.

“Enough of this!” He hears the voice of the lawman, disgusted, and the hangman must agree, because the last thing he hears is the lever being thrown, and the floor gives out under him, and he’s falling, falling, falling.

His ass hits a chair.

There’s a moment of blinded confusion, because he's gone from the unbearable dusty sun of midday California, to a cool, dark, musty smelling interior. His eyes need a moment to adjust to the change. He’s sitting in a room he doesn’t recognize. The chair under him is plush, but just thin seated enough to be a tad uncomfortable. He squirms in it, confused, and finds his hands are still tied behind his back. He turns his head. Seated across from him is a young woman.. Well, little girl might be more accurate, she’s maybe fourteen. There’s a wicked looking hoofprint emblazoned on her right temple. The blood that’s leaking from the wound has gone a sickly old color. They stare at each other. “Did that hurt?” she asks, first, and he squints, because he’d been about to ask the same question. Her hand has gone to her throat, as she looks at him, and he looks down, pressing his fat face into his fat neck to create an unflattering double chin as he does so. He can feel the rope around his neck. He follows the line of it with his eyes, and turns to look up. The rope travels up from him, into the ceiling. It’s still taught, like he’s suspended by it, but his ass is touching chair, his boots are on the ground, and he doesn’t feel choked by it’s presence. He tuts. “Didn’t feel a thing. That hurt?” he tries to gesture to her wound, but again, he’s reminded his hands are bound behind him. She stands. “Hurt a bit, but then I got so dizzy I didn’t hardly feel it, after,” she tells him, and then, like the good little frontierswoman she is, she produces a knife from inside some pocket in the volume of her skirts, and gratefully, he leans forward. She rests a knee on one of the chairs, to get a better angle, as she uses her bowie to cut through the rope at his wrists. “Awful kind of you, half pint,” he tells her, and she smiles. “Ain’t nothin.” She settles into the chair next to him, which is a little surprising, but he doesn’t mind, over all. “You’re an outlaw, then?” she asks. He grunts, and then turns to face her, with a grin. “You probably heard of me. They called me Th’ Ghost, on occasion, cause I could slip away without bein’ caught-” he watches her eyes travel up the line of his noose, and then settle back on his face, a little less impressed than she ought to be. He responds by pinching her nose, and she swats at his hand, and laughs. “I do think I heard of you,” she concedes. “I’m Presley.” “Presley, alright. You got a clue where we are, kiddo?” “I just was told to wait.” “Told by who?”

Across the room, a window he hadn’t registered as being there slides open. This place vaguely resembles a bank, he realizes, and so that means that’s the teller’s window. A woman with a tired expression on a pretty face peers out at him. “Hey, dead beat,” she calls, her accent thick around the words. “Juno wants to see you.” He motions to himself, questioningly. She raises an eyebrow in silent confirmation. “Should I care?” he asks, and her upper lip curls in the most beautiful version of a sneer he’s ever seen. “You’re real funny. Get in there before she loses her temper.” And she reaches up, and slams the window shut.

He looks to Presley, and they both share a little shrug, before he stands, and takes a step. The rope going through the ceiling moves with him, not along any visible track, that he can see, but seeming rather more like a toy balloon on a string, bobbing along as though after a child winding their way through the crowd of a state fair. There’s a door by the teller’s window, and he makes for it, only for the window to slide open again, and that beautiful face to reappear. She looks him over, not seeming particularly impressed, but also not outright cruel. “Where’s your handbook?” she asks. Beetlejuice tilts his head. It lolls a little comically to one side, presumably because his neck is broken. She sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. “You can’t be serious. You didn’t bring your handbook?” “Listen, lady, even if I had whatever book you’re talkin about, I couldn’t read it,” he counters, and she pauses, at that. “Illiterate. Of course. What’s even the point of the handbook when so many folks can’t read it?” she mutters to herself, and then she waives him at the door, the conversation apparently over. Alright.

The door, predictably, leads to a hallway, a bit unlike anything he’s ever seen before, in terms of sheer length of the thing. It twists around like a snake, and the number of doors along the hall leads him to believe wherever he is, it’s massive. The hallway is empty, save for a man at the far end, mopping, and there doesn’t seem to be anything around for him to tuck into his pockets. Too bad, he mopes, as he carries himself down the hall, boots clacking in a way he finds tactile and pleasant. He passes the custodian, who stares at the floor behind him and sighs, and Beetlejuice looks back to see a mess of dusty footprints he’s left on a previously slightly damp but otherwise pristine floor. With a snort, he spits into the bucket of mop water, and the other man jumps back, disgusted, as Beetlejuice cackles, and continues his leisurely walk down the hall.

At a certain point he realizes he’s got no idea where he’s going, but it doesn’t especially matter. Wherever he is now, whatever version of the afterlife this is, because clearly, that’s what this is, it doesn’t seem to be fire and brimstone and all that bullshit, so he takes it easy, opening doors at random and peeking through. The things he sees don’t always make sense to him, feel like they’re out of place from the world as he knows it. He opens one door, and suddenly he’s staring at what must be a city, but the buildings are so tall they’re touching the sky, going up past the clouds, up into the heaven he doesn’t believe can really be up there. The people are dressed strangely, men and women wandering around in little more than underclothes, which he likes, instantly, and the streets are black with painted yellow lines, instead of dust and earth. Some kind of metal.. Something, a trolley without a track, moves on it’s own down the street, and he catches a glimpse of faces inside. He gets lost in the contents of this door, staring for a long time, entranced, and then it’s slammed suddenly. He turns, catches sight of the custodian with his hand on the door, and growls, an animalistic sound he didn’t know he could do. And then he stops, and turns to look, because the custodian is still a ways behind him, mopping with spit water. It’s the same man. “You don’t need to go poking your snout into places it doesn’t belong,” the man says, simply, and then in a blink, both versions of him are gone from the hallway. Maybe that’s just an… afterlife thing.

He reaches, after what feels like a boring and dragging eternity of twenty whole minutes, a set of saloon doors, the swinging kind. There’s a void of blackness behind them, but the draw he feels is unmistakable, and he pushes them open, and walks through. Instead of a room black as ink, he finds himself… standing on the wooden porch of a bar he remembers frequenting fairly often, in his younger days. At least, he has clear memories of walking into the bar. How and when and why he ended up outside of it, well�� whiskey has a hell of an effect on a man’s memory. It’s a fairly chilly desert night. The chirping of crickets and the long ways away lonely baying of a dog is a sort of familiar comfort, but god damn it, he’s just left this world. He wasn’t intending on coming back to it, ever. The dusty streets are dim, illuminated only by the moon, the stars, and the few lamps still burning in windows. The town is quiet.

On the dirt road in front of him is a woman, staring at him. She’s small, older, nicely dressed, with hair shorter than he’s ever seen on a lady, and a mouth sort of like a toad, long and downturned. There’s an unlit cigarette between her fingers. She’s watching him, curious and apathetic all at once. He returns the look. “Juno, then?” he grunts, stepping off the porch. No dust lifts when his boots hit the unpaved road, which he notes. Maybe he’s not really here. Maybe he’s a ghost. Fitting.

“Lawrence “Beetlejuice” Shoggoth,” she says, as he comes to stand in front of her. “Took you long enough. You realize I’ve been waiting here for days. You get lost, or something?” Her tone is sharp, like a schoolmarm with too much on her hands and not enough energy for it all. He feels a little sheepish, if only because no, he hadn’t realized that. “Gimme a break,” he says, instead of an apology. “I just died.” “Like that makes you special,” she huffs, and then, waving her unlit cigarette in his face, machine rolled, not hand, he notes, she asks, “Have you got a match?” He produces one from one of the many pockets of his moss green duster, strikes it on his thumb, and holds it up for her. She has the decency to look grateful, as she leans in, cigarette to her lips, and lights it from that little flame. “So,” she exhales smoke, and it curls from the corner of her lips, and out a previously unspotted slash to her throat. No wondering how she died, then. Speaking of, he glances up, to see that his noose is no longer floating above his head, and turning, he catches sight of it dragging on the ground behind him, long and snake-like in the way it’s twisted and coiled. Juno snaps her long red nails in his face, brings his attention back to her. “You weren’t supposed to die, you know. You’ve mucked things up for me.” “Whut?” he grunts, a bit thrown. She rubs her temples. “You were supposed to go in your seventies. Catch tuberculosis and wither away in obscurity. How old are you?” “Thirty four, or abouts,” he croaks, and she takes another drag. “You let yourself be caught,” she accuses. Well.. yeah. But how the hell does she know that? “I got pinned down in a shootout. Lucky they didn’t blow my head off, right then.” “You’ve gotten out of worse.” She looks almost.. Disappointed. “And then you put down your weapons, instead of fighting it out.” “I was surrounded.” “You were sloppy.” “What’s it to you, anyway?” he growls, again low and animalistic, which Juno ignores, as she walks circles around him, studying him. “You let yourself be caught, and you let yourself be hung. You didn’t even try to get away. You might not have killed yourself, but you let them kill you, for you,” she says. “And it’s giving me a hell of a time, both because it’s changed you, and because I have to put you somewhere, Beetlejuice, and now no one knows where you should go.” “So what does that mean?” “It means, my little statistical outlier, that you’re going to be staying up here, probably a lot broader a time than it would have taken you to just live your life and die at seventy,” she sighs, rubbing at her forehead. “Which is a shame. Because.. I was looking forward to.. To you. And now we both have to wait longer,” and here, she finishes her circle of him, to stand face to face with him again, and she flicks his ear, the way he always imagined an frustrated mother might. “Because you gave up. You weren’t supposed to give up.” “Wasn't much worth livin’ for,” he says, and it’s got more emotion behind it than he meant to give it. Juno’s hand goes to her throat, and she looks pained. “I guess that’s an inherited trait,” her voice is soft, and he squints at her, confused. Instead of giving him any context for that, she points down the dusty main road. Shining under the moonlight, he can see, vaguely, a dark shape suspended in air, near the gallows. “Go put your suit back on,” she says dryly. “And try not to cause enough trouble that I have to come up here and get after you, understood?” “What part of outlaw ain’t you gettin?” he snorts, and she responds by giving him an affectionate pat to his scruffy cheek, before she takes another drag, and vanishes inside the swirling smoke. He’s left standing on his own.

His “suit” is still hanging, he notes, looking up at himself. He’s strung up on a tall pole by the platform, leaving it free for more use, if need be, with his body on display as a gruesome reminder for potential criminals that this is a hanging town, and they’ve even hung their most despised son. His neck is bent at an ugly angle, a little bulge at the side betraying how exactly his bones had shattered, and his skin has gone a bad color, gray and foul looking. But aside from that, he’s not rotted the way he would think he ought to be. Juno’d said she’d been waiting for days, presumably meaning it has been days since his death, but his body is looking remarkably unbuzzard pecked and unrotted. He shimmies up the pole he’s hung from, his ghostly noose trailing behind him, and the moment he touches his own boot, the world spins, going upside down and inside out in a way that’s too painful to try and perceive.

“Gahh-” says Beetlejuice, because he’s back in his body, which is still being hung by that god damn noose, and he realizes, annoyed, that he has no way of cutting himself down. He kicks, pointlessly, one hand going to the rope at his neck, to clutch it and try to keep it from choking himself again, and the other grabbing at the rope further up, gripping it to pull himself up, give himself some slack, instead of hanging taught. It’s not the most coordinated he’s ever been. At least there’s no one around to watch him struggle.

“Holy shit, the body’s movin!” he hears someone holler. Oh, come on.

Read the rest, right over HERE

[hansoulo]

lay back in cloying sin

part three of “Pillar of Salt”

Pairing: Boba Fett/Princess!Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N)

Warnings: NSFW-ish; references to marks and bruises, kissing, probably inaccurate descriptions of ballroom dancing, fluff, mentions of alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.3k

Gif Credit: (x) by @/ktfhett

A/N: boba & reader: [tyler the creator voice] oh no i hope i don’t fall 

༓ series masterlist ༓ 

Dinner was a tedious affair, filled with hollow pageantry. It was one last hurrah before the send off of the honored guests, one of which you’d never talked to and the other who was nowhere to be found. The former, Lord Vader, sat at the head of the long table and made for very unamusing company. You had the distinct impression that he’d rather be anywhere than here, having to listen to his uniformed subordinates squabble in grating voices and your father simper about mining collectives. That made for two of you.

But the cavernous banquet hall was always beautiful, if a bit ostentatious, and the food never disappointed, so you consoled yourself with a loosened corset and the promise of a second dinner by servants who pitied your forced small portions.

You floated into the large room, shuffled through by the compounding procession before an older man offered to help you into your seat. The ornateness of your evening wear made you grateful for the help, watching in sincere thanks as he pulled out the high-backed chair.

“Thank you, um…” the color of his robes and the softness of his hands signalled high rank and you chanced a guess. “Duke...?”

“Sagcock,” he finished for you. “Jovron Sagcock.”

He has got to be joking.

Evidently, he wasn’t.

If the man saw you choke on a laugh, sputtering it into a hiccup as you sat down, he pretended not to notice. After all, princesses knew better than to be unbecoming or crass or know why any part of that exchange could be fodder for humor.

Fighting down one last cough, you attempted to regain some sense of decorum. What a wonderful start to the evening.

The arrangement of persons on this particular night was strange though, even disregarding the title of the man now seated beside you. There were more people than usual filling out the hall tonight, all fancily clad and buffed to shining. Boba wasn’t anywhere to be found.

The supposed importance of the occasion probably necessitated a shuffling of seats to soothe egos and encourage conversation, but you weren’t used to being so close to the head of the table, near parallel with your mother. Usually your elder sisters sat higher and provided you the benefit of distance. Of course, they were all gone now. Your brother was still too young to be at evening dinners, so there was no buffer between you and your parents’ ire.

Maybe this was the Maker’s way of getting back at you for your tiny tryst. Maybe they all knew about what happened in the garden and were just waiting for the shoe to drop, branding you as a harlot and finally letting you free. Vader’s static words travelled down the table and mingled with your father’s but you were too busy entertaining worse-case scenarios to understand conversation.

People were observing you, you realized partway through the first round of courses. Watching you with strange eyes as if you were the last scrap of halfway-spoiled meat for imperial officials and all the nobility that had come to pay their prostrate respects. No one had really given half a damn about you before, which made it all the more strange.

A heel foot softly kicked at yours underneath the table, breaking you out of your glazed thoughts. The fork you had been mindlessly moving across your plate stopping mid-swirl. Looking up, you met the quiet glare of your mother and cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you asked. Your question was punctuated with a smile too large to be genuine. The queen’s head jerked towards the grizzled man seated to her right and you turned towards him at her behest, face open in trained invitation. “Oh, hello, General.”

General Enes, current commander of the army of Quas Killam. Not strictly Imperial, but aligned close enough to have him in the king’s good graces and to reside permanently at court. He was also a Duke and probably a cousin thrice removed, but who was counting?

“No need to stand on pleasantries, your Highness,” the gray-haired man assured you, one large hand resting over his stomach as servants replaced the dirtied plates in front of you with new ones. You only sipped delicately at your algarine as he chortled and remembered, “It seems like yesterday that you were running around the palace with your sisters. A little sprite of a thing, weren’t you?”

Was he drunk already? “Yes, I remember,” you tread pleasantly; carefully.

The general settled and let out one last chuckle before his eyes grew hawk-like again, trained in the jewelry and accoutrements that signified your being old enough to marry but young enough to have not yet been taken. Like a prize. Or a charity donation. “You’ve grown into quite the young woman, you know.”

So that’s where this was going. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and tried to look gracious. “Thank you, sir. That’s a high compliment.”

“How old are you again, dear?”

Masking your surprise at the forwardness of the question, you supplied your age to a nod of approval from both him and your mother.

“A good age, I’d say. ‘Round the same as my youngest.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” you shot a look down the table and caught a glimpse of cropped flaxen hair, its owner sitting enough seats down to prevent any shared conversation. You counted your blessings for it and smiled, tight-lipped. “Your son and I shared company when we were children.”

“Well that’s very nice,” the queen interjected quite loudly and looked around the long table with a light laugh but cold eyes. “Isn’t that nice?”

Your father looked at you for the first time all evening as if on cue, boring a hole into your face with the words he seemed to be telepathically trying to put in your mouth.

The taste of bitter wine on your tongue made your thoughts fevered, though not borne out of alcohol so much as the memories of someone else’s touch in the same places. “Yes,” you repeated vaguely. “Very nice.”

Darth Vader apparently didn’t remove his helmet. You wondered why he came to dinner at all.

The remaining evening hours had been whittled away by dessert and drinks. Everyone who cared to stay shuffled into the ballroom, a behemoth of a thing filled with inky windows and sparkling artifice. It was a blur of waltzes and predetermined couplings with boys you’d been ignoring since you were old enough to kick them in their shins, but you didn’t care enough to go to pains to avoid it. They broke up the monotony of introductions, at least, and let your mind and body be somewhere else for a while.

All compounded, the night left you flushed and tired. You needed alcohol. Or air. The latter was probably the more reasonable choice of the two.

Being in the midst of ballroom theatrics allowed for an easy enough escape, and a side entrance to a balcony overlooking the palace grounds became the object of your attention.

The tall double doors lay open in their glass encasings and spilled out lamplight refractions on the guests’ gaudy clothing and gaudier jewelry, everything sparkling and warm. But you were far enough away from it to still be chilled by the night air, a balm for your flushed cheeks and fizzling temper.

Usually guests ignored it in favor of staying indoors, so you were fairly confident in the promise of solitude and an undisturbed breeze.

But someone apparently had the same idea as you.

“Hello,” you ventured out a greeting to the silhouette not yet fully in your vision. You stepped closer and the heels of your shoes echoed on clay tiles. “I’m sorry, am I bothering you?”

Royal Highnesses shouldn’t really care about whether or not they were disturbing strange party guests, you could make them leave if you felt so inclined, but something in you was feeling magnanimous tonight. You tried not to think about why.

The figure didn’t turn back towards you, still facing out towards the blurry glitter of urban lights far off in the distance. It looked pretty this far away, all glowing masses and amorphous buildings that scraped the sky. You’d never  been close enough to see all the dinge and smog that made its home in places not populated by princesses. Marble felt more familiar than metal.

The man wore metal too, and his voice scraped at your chest when he answered. “You’re not bothering me, princess.”

Oh.

You ventured cautiously towards the balcony’s edge, next to the man you now could recognize as Boba. The thick stone railing was cool to the touch. “Hello.”

His helmet tipped to the left, which was probably his way of saying it back.

“I didn’t see you at the dinner,” you noticed quietly. Would it be presumptuous to assume he was avoiding you? Intellect said yes, but ego didn’t listen. You leant forward, the speckled marble digging into your elbows as you mirrored Boba’s sightline out into the city. “You know, you wouldn’t have needed to make conversation. Lord Vader was the guest of honor and all he did was sit there.”

“I don’t like crowds.”

“Ah.”

A silence lapsed between you, awkward as if you were strangers. You were though, weren’t you? Strangers. Not friends. Not lovers. Not really.

But if he asked you to crack yourself open for him, you would. You would rip apart every satin petticoat and snap the boning in your corsets until your hands were raw if it meant he would touch you; skin to skin. You’d run away and cite a hidden fountain as the reason why.

You didn’t know what he’d give up for you, if anything. Boba didn’t seem like the type to have much in the first place. Either by choice or by necessity.

The garden afternoon nagged at you after having time to form coherent thoughts, and the fizzy shine of palace lights reflecting off his helmet reminded you of what you’d been meaning to ask.

Night made you softer-spoken. “Why did you let me take off your helmet?”

Night made his edges sharper. “Why did you want to?”

“I asked first,” you volleyed back as reason enough to get an answer first.

Boba wasn’t a Mandalorian in the true sense of the word, at least that’s what gossip told you, so it didn’t really matter if he took the helmet off or not. But he kept it on in front of everyone else.

The hunter gave you visor-silence and your impatience made you concede. “I just wanted to see you,” you breathed out, still not looking at him.  The admission sounded much more naive than you intended.

His words held their characteristic aloofness but were edged by gentle teasing. “What if I said the same?”

That he wanted to see you?

You still didn’t understand half of why he did what he did and what he wanted, but you turned to face him head-on anyway. Cold moonlight fell on your neck and the air cracked with fever. You tried to reply in jest. “Then I’d say that you were being stupid.”

“You’d be right.”

A swallow bobbed in your throat. He always seemed to take up your vision; fill it and suffocate you with seemingly no effort. “And then I’d ask you to do it again.”

“Do what, princess?”

He knew. He just liked seeing the words come out of your mouth.

“Let me take your helmet off.”

This time, he guided your hands up himself. They were slow and almost careful running across your palms, placing them on the mechanisms your fingers found in quick memory. Set on the balcony railing, the helmet seemed to be a prop. An upside down bucket filled with all the things you had yet to say to each other, spilling out onto the ground in a fog.

“I like you better without it,” you decided when he turned back towards you, his weight still resting on the railing with one cocked hip. Everything about the way he looked was dark: inky black curls and scarred brown skin and eyes that pushed the air in your lungs with a stall and a catch. They looked even darker next to tan clothes and green armor.

His voice wasn’t entirely lacking in humor. He did that. Humored you. “Do you now?”

“Mhm.” you nodded with fake seriousness, slightly giddy and slightly too brave. You blamed it on an excess of wine and good company. “Better-looking.”

He only scoffed, a flash of pearl-white canines serving as one half of a smile. A smile that had been wider when it was against your collarbones, your neck, your mouth. A smile that you wouldn’t mind being in other places.

You nudged Boba’s shoulder with your own when a waltz kicked up in the background, faint through the open ballroom door. “There’s music,” you implied, half-joking and half-expectant. There had been this whole time, of course, but acknowledging it now seemed better than never. “You should ask me to dance.”

“I’m not one for dancing, your Highness.”

The title made you roll your eyes, a commonplace formality that you usually insisted on but now found overly facetious. Coming from him, that is. “Clearly not,” you almost snorted. Pushing away from the marble ledge with a finality that seemed almost comical, you held your hand out and waited, eyebrows raising and fingers beckoning. Well? your face seemed to say, Are you coming?

His sigh was bone-deep and settled in your chest like chunks of black plaster, but it felt good. “You’re not going to let me leave, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” you replied, as if it’d be ridiculous to expect anything else. Princesses danced with men at parties. You were a princess. Boba was a man at a party. In a roundabout sort of way. “It’s easy, I promise,” you assured, wrapping your hand around his wrist and pulling him away from the balcony. His glove slipped down a bit; just enough that your thumb could press one soft circle against the tan skin over bone.

Uncomfortable wasn’t really the correct word for how you thought he felt. You doubted Boba could ever be uncomfortable. No. No, the right word would probably be… bemused. Like he was in a menagerie watching a creature, something exotic and pretty, with mild interest while it still had his attention. But you did have his attention. That was something.

“You put your right hand on my waist,” you moved to reposition the large fingers more accustomed to blasters than they were to bodices. Boba smirked, almost boyish, when you caught his hand wandering someplace else. “Not that low,” you chided with quiet exasperation, placing your palm atop his and guiding it back up.

The pale leather was warm underneath your skin and you bit down a smile, almost awe-struck at how strange your hand looked next to his. Yours was polished, weighed down by heavy gold bangles and softened by years of idle play. His, you suspected (for you didn't actually know; hadn’t yet actually seen), was anything but.

“That’s good,” you supplied lightly. “And then I do this,”your other hand reached to rest on Boba’s shoulder. “And then- no, no you give me your left hand. Hold it out- good.”

Still looking down, you were careful not to trip over your skirts or his boots. “And now we just-” you breathed out and glanced up, surprised to find his expression strangely careful. Almost tender. You gulped down the quiet notch in your throat. “-now we just um… sway. Like this.”

You eschewed complication in favor of a simple rhythm, just letting your feet fall wherever they liked so long as they didn’t tangle in themselves. Now wasn’t the time for anything laborious; you didn’t have faith enough in Boba’s footwork. But he actually wasn’t too bad all things considered. A bit stiff and a bit gruff, but those were part and parcel. It was a bit like dancing with a tree trunk. A very handsome, very broad, very taciturn tree trunk. It was easy to let yourself sink into it a little with how solid he felt.

The man arched an eyebrow when your fingers stretched to thread together with his. “Just sway?”

“You’re welcome to do a jig instead if you’d like,” you replied wryly as your weight shifted from foot to foot. The hand around your waist stiffened at the prospect and a grin escaped your face.

“Nevermind.”

The amusement that had previously only been in your throat escaped in a quiet laugh. “Thought so,” you whispered, victorious. Tension, bunched up in your shoulders and collected in your bones, melted completely when he pulled you closer and let your head fall against the space of his neck. Sinew fit against silk like puzzle pieces and warmed the quiet moment that followed. Neither of you spoke for fear of disturbing the fresh peace.

You found yourself dwelling more and more on hypotheticals. Unrealistic and stupid, you knew, given who you both were. But still you dwelt, unable to fathom a reality outside of the last nine hours and inside a reality within which Boba was gone.

Would he fit here, with the stucco and plaster and ivy? With all the sheltered society of an insignificant court? With you?

You wondered if he dwelt on hypotheticals, too.

Swallowing cold air as Boba thumbed the collar of your dress, you felt the light scatter of broken blood vessels from hours before smart again. Your cheek pressed against the pauldron of his beskar, but neither of you were really dancing anymore. “I- I wanted to talk,” you began quietly. “About earlier.”

“Did you not like it?” Did you not like me?

“No! No, I…” you shook your head, trying to rid yourself of his assumption. The crystals hanging from your headpiece tinkled with every soft movement. “No, I… I liked it. I like…” The lump in your throat seemed to travel down back into your stomach. “You,” you finished, swallowing the final word and leaving all its implications to settle in the night.

He could feel the rise and fall of your chest; delicate and airy and resigned. You spoke again. “But you’re leaving tomorrow and... and we could’ve been caught. And the more I think about it the more I really am not looking forward to the idea of some court scandal or being cloistered up like a nun because I—”

He called you your name.

He’d never used your name before.

You lifted your head off his shoulder, desperate-eyed and looking for answers you both knew he couldn’t give. “Yes?”

“Kiss me.”

You barely breathed out an okay before the arm around your waist tightened, crushing you against cold metal and a warm body.

He kissed you how a lover would. Like how a first kiss should’ve been.

It was gentle. Warm. Tender-mouthed and aching, placing promises down your throat with a soft hand and closed eyes. It was… It was…

It was broken up far too quickly.

A voice called out your name from somewhere far-off, regally accented and not at all welcome. It called your name again, first middle and last with all the titles in between with much less patience. Your mother, queen consort.

The groan of displeasure that escaped you was muffled in Boba’s mouth and swallowed up before it could give either of you away. He recovered much faster than you did, peeling back from your body with eyes already alert and scanning the shadows for passersby. There were none. For now.

“It’s my mother,” you whispered, letting your eyes roll seemingly out of your skull. “They’re probably doing some send-off for Vader’s entourage.”

Neither of you mentioned the fact that Boba was part of that entourage too.

Your last words were rushed before the footsteps became too close and the mercenary pulled away. You didn’t really want to stay to hear the answer. “Will I see you again?”

Boba Fett, you’d come to learn, wasn’t the kind of man to offer more than what he knew he could give.

The helmet went back on. “I don’t know.”’

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 7

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,480

Warnings: none

A/N: This is long overdue, sorry - hopefully it’s worth it. It’s also incredibly long... idek anymore. I want to thank you all for your patience and support. It means a lot to me.

Wannabe sugar daddies, don’t interact with this post.

You grumbled into your pillow when you heard your phone buzz on the bedside table. Cracking one eye open, you lifted your phone and squinted to read the neon numbers showing on the screen.

7:12 a.m.

You had an email notification, nothing important, but it somehow managed to come through the ‘Do Not Disturb’ feature. You knew you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep so you got up and padded barefoot into the kitchen.  

A smile curled up your lips when you saw the leftovers from your made-up holiday. There were a few cookies and muffins in a plate, a large bowl of cereals, and two dirty milkshake glasses on the counter.

It had been a fun and relaxing couple of days. You ate, talked, played board games, and watched movies in your fanciest loungewear attire. Bucky sought your touch more than usual and it left you a little confused. Every time he touched you, the line between feelings of friendship and feelings of love became blurred.

Bucky was an early riser, always up before you, dressed in his usual khakis and long sleeved Henley shirts with his hair slightly tousled. He looked effortlessly sexy and always had a warm smile for you even though you looked like a hot mess in your mismatched pyjamas, staggering into the kitchen, blindly following the smell of food cooking on the stove.

Today, the kitchen was silent. Bucky was probably still asleep, so you decided to cook breakfast. Maybe, if you were lucky, you’d catch him in his night clothes.

Wasting no time, you made a beeline for the coffee machine. You filled the water tank and measured fresh grounds into the filter, but your task was interrupted when you heard groans coming from somewhere nearby. You soon figured out that the sounds were coming from the living room.

Curious, you silently made your way toward the sound. The shades were up, and you could see the midnight blue sky fading into pastel hues of yellow and pink with the approaching dawn. Under any other circumstances, you would have been completely enraptured by its beauty, but something else caught your attention.

Bucky was standing upside down with his head on a yoga mat. His eyes were closed and his features were set in an expression of serious concentration. You half hid behind the wall and observed him.

You were impressed, his headstand was perfectly vertical and he was doing it without hand support, meaning that he was supporting his entire weight on his neck. He slowly lowered one toe back down, then the other, before he rested his forearm on the mat and lifted his butt toward the ceiling, his body forming a perfect inverted V.

“You’re up already,” he asked, sitting back on his haunches. “I can hear you breathing behind that wall.”

Busted...

You peeked out into the living room and cringed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you but that was sooo impressive.” You walked into the room and perched yourself on the arm of the sofa, facing Bucky who was kneeling at your feet. “How do you do that?”

He chuckled, his cheeks red from exertion and bashfulness. “Practice. Yoga’s good for building strength.”

He looked up at you with a boyish smile, his hair damp with perspiration. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, rolling too close to his eyes and making him squint.

His pants left little to the imagination, the fabric stretched across his powerful thighs, and his sleeveless shirt clung to his drenched chest, outlining his muscles. Your eyes darted to his left shoulder where his stump was visible.

Despite living with him for over two months, you had never seen him in one of those sleeveless shirts before, though you couldn’t blame him since it was the middle of winter and you hadn’t been wearing any either. It was warm inside the apartment but not enough to walk around bare-armed.

“It’s easier to do yoga when the sleeve isn’t slapping me in the face every five seconds,” Bucky said, looking at his stump. “But I can cover it up if you prefer.”

“No! Of course not,” you rushed to say. “I’m sorry. That was really rude.”

“You were just looking, it’s only natural,” he said. “People are curious. Staring... well, staring is different.” His frown smoothed away and he turned to you with a smile. “Are you hungry?”

You smiled down at him. “Starving.”

“I’m gonna hop in the shower real quick, then I’ll start breakfast.”

“Actually, I was about to start cooking before I got distracted.” Bucky looked away, a slight blush covering his cheeks. “But I think we have plenty of food left over from last night.”

“We’re not eating cookies for breakfast,” he said. “We’ll save them for later. Right now we need something healthy.” He grinned as he pushed himself to his feet and ran upstairs. “I’ll be right back.”

You shook your head at his antics and returned to the kitchen to finish making coffee. After all he’d done for you, it was the least you could do. You knew Bucky liked cooking –and he was damn good at it- but sometimes you wondered if this was a fair arrangement.

He had given you a place to stay, money, food to eat, your own artist’s studio, and you had given him... nothing. Admittedly, you knew that your presence calmed him, comforted him. You gave him the emotional support he desperately needed and it was important, but he could also have adopted a pet.

Too tired for coffee or tea, you poured yourself a glass of orange juice, hoping it would wake you up. It worked but your self-deprecating thoughts were still playing havoc in your mind.

You were fixing Bucky’s coffee when he came back downstairs after his shower, and you were pleasantly surprised to find him wearing a clean sleeveless shirt. You met his eyes and found that he was watching you intently. You offered him a smile and leaned back against the kitchen counter.

“Looking good, James.”

He looked down at his feet with a bashful smile as he crossed the room slowly. You observed him in silence while he prepared breakfast for the two of you. It was a simple breakfast bowl with yogurt, granola, fresh fruits and honey but he somehow made it look like a gourmet dish.

“There you go, angel,” he said, setting your bowl in front of you. “What are you going to do today?”

You took a slice of kiwi and dipped in yogurt. “I think I’m going to paint. You?”

Bucky licked his spoon and you stared at it longingly before you quickly averted your eyes. No, you couldn’t be jealous of a goddamn spoon. Catch yourself on.

“I have an idea for a new book,” he said, running his tongue along his teeth to clean them before he spoke again. “I had a meeting with my agent last week. It went well, my old publisher really wants to work with me again. I’m signing my contract this afternoon.”

“Bucky!” you squealed after swallowing your mouthful of yogurt a little too fast. “That’s amazing!”

“Thank you,” he said, staring into nothing with wide eyes. “I’m nervous, scared and excited at the same time. It’s strange, y’know, all these feelings mixed together. It’s a bit overwhelming and I haven’t even started yet.”

“Don’t think too much,” you said. “You’ve done this before, you can do it again.”

“Yeah,” he replied, smiling.

You scraped your spoon around the bowl and licked it clean. “What’s it about? Is it a novel? Can I be in it?”

Bucky chuckled to himself and you figured that every single writer had friends who begged them to appear in their books. You couldn’t help it, the idea of living forever as ink on a page was too tempting.

“It’s not a novel,” he said. “It’s the third instalment of my series. The style is a little hard to explain but this is what I like to say: self-help book meets Bridget Jones’ Diary.”

“I tried to look you up but I couldn’t find anything written by a James Barnes or a Bucky Barnes.” You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you a fraud? Or are you using a pen name?”

He pretended to think about it. “I’m a fraud.”

“I knew it,” you mock-sighed.

Bucky took your bowl and placed it in the sink along with his. When he started cleaning them, you joined him and took a dish towel.

“I’ll tell you soon,” he spoke after a moment.

“It’s okay, take your time.”

You knew he wasn’t going to tell you what his pen name was, not now at least. His books were a reflection of his struggles, his success, and his fears, and you could understand why he preferred to keep you in the dark for now.

The people who read his books didn’t know him, they were just anonymous faces in a crowd but you were real. You were his friend, his new friend, and your opinion mattered.

“It’s been a couple of years since I’ve published my last book. My agent said that people haven’t forgotten about me but I still have to,” he made air quotes with his fingers, “’show my face’, just to remind everyone that I’m still writing.” He sighed.

“There’s a charity event next month at the museum of Natural History,” he continued. “It’s a huge event, a lot of important people will be there, including some of the most famous gallerists and curators in the country. You’re allowed to say no but,” he paused and turned to look at you, “do you want to come with me?”

You pressed your lips together while you mulled this over. There was no doubt in your mind that it was a great opportunity, one that you would have never had without Bucky, and you knew you had to say yes. But this was your least favourite part of being an artist.

You didn’t know how to sell yourself and you always felt like an arrogant asshat when you spoke about your paintings, even though you had every right to be proud of your work.

You had managed to persuade yourself that this new life would last forever. Eat, laugh, paint, repeat forever. But it wasn’t real. You had to put yourself out there, even if it made you uncomfortable because painting was only half your job.

Something else bothered you. You didn’t want to be the poor, struggling artist who took advantage of a charity event to make herself known. It seemed wrong and hypocritical.

You voiced your concerns to Bucky who looked at you with a pained expression.

“Yes, it’s a fundraiser but I can assure you that everyone at the party will be talking business and exchanging business cards,” he said. “And they’ll compensate with a huge donation to clear their guilty conscience. Is it false philanthropy? Absolutely, and I’m ashamed to say I’m one of them. You’re not taking advantage of a good cause, we are.”

“You’re nothing like them,” you said. “You’re kind and selfless, you’re a good person.”

“I’m not sure that’s true, angel,” he said with a tight smile.

When you opened your mouth to protest, he leaned forward and cupped the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, ending the conversation. He had never done that before and you froze, feeling equal parts confused, incredulous and appreciated.

He pulled back and wiped down the sink with the sponge, acting like kissing you so sweetly was something completely normal, like he was unbothered. Meanwhile you just stood there wondering if you would ever be able to breathe normally again.

You pressed your lips together hard and tried to gather your thoughts but your mind was reeling. You were about to leave the room when your eyes landed on a pile of mail on the kitchen counter.

The first letter was a cheesy view of the Tower Bridge, the words ‘Greetings from London’ written in bold cursive letters across the postcard.

You only knew one person who still sent postcards.

Wanda.

“What’s this?” you asked, nodding toward the stack of mail.

Confused, Bucky looked to you then followed your line of sight and saw the mail. “Oh, Natasha dropped these off last night. She wanted to see you but you were already asleep.”

You nodded distractedly while you picked up the postcard. The sight of it filled you with anxiety. Your sister didn’t’ send these postcards often, but every time you received one it reminded you that things were different now. Gone was the happy and supportive family you used to cherish.  

Your breath caught in your throat as you read Wanda’s hastily written words.

I’m coming home.

She was coming home. A wave of nausea ran through you and your breathing came shallow and fast.

“Wow, wow, wow.” You felt Bucky’s hand at our waist, steering you toward a chair, and you realized your legs were giving way under you. “Deep breaths, angel. Look at me. There you go!”

“Sorry,” you said. “See what happens when you don’t let me eat cookies for breakfast?”

Bucky smiled at your poor attempt at humour. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

You debated telling him but you weren’t sure how to voice your concerns so you handed him the postcard instead. You had told Bucky about Wanda. She had disappeared after Pietro’s death, sending postcards from time to time as proof that she was still alive and well.

“Your sister is coming home.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I haven’t seen her for six years. She doesn’t know our mom has Alzheimer, she doesn’t know I sold our old childhood home. She keeps sending those postcards there. I gave the new owners Natasha’s address in case they still receive our mail. They’re very nice.” You let out a humourless laugh. “I had absolutely no idea what I was doing when I sold our house, and they could have taken advantage of me but they didn’t. I guess it’s not every day you buy a family house from a 24 year old girl. It probably screams tragic backstory, uh?”

“You did this on your own?”

“Yup.”

Bucky put his hand on your knee and gave you a comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry you had to go through this.”

You looked down at his thumb rubbing soothing circles just above your knee. “Yeah, it wasn’t easy.” You paused, then raised your head to look at him. “Living with you makes my life so much easier. I live in my own little bubble where I don’t have to be an adult. I feel like I can finally breathe. And I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me and all you continue to do.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, shaking his head. “We help each other. We’re good together.”

“Yes, of course,” you said with a smile. “But we both know it’ll have to end one day. It has to, one way or another. I want to be more independent, start my career and support my family. I don’t want to rely on others anymore. I want to rely on myself.”

“But there’s no rush, angel.”

“I know, but nothing’s gonna change if I stay in my little bubble. I have to do things that make me uncomfortable.”

“What are you trying to say exactly?”

“I’ll come with you to the fundraiser.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up in surprise but a smile broke across his face. “That’s great! But what about your sister?”

You shrugged. “There’s nothing I can do. She’ll probably go to our old house, realize it’s not ours anymore. If she’s lucky they’ll give her Natasha’s address. I’m sure she’ll have lots of questions but she can’t show up six years later and act like our bond is still intact. I’m not at her beck and call. I’m only responsible for myself and, Bucky, I’m so tired of trying to please everyone. I deserve to live my best life, goddammit.”

“I am so happy to hear you say that,” Bucky said, his smile blinding. “Celebratory cookie?”

“Yes! Two cookies, please,” you replied, out of breath. “I’m slightly freaking out.”

You spent the next couple of weeks planning for the event; painting, taking pictures of your work, posting them on Instagram, searching for gallerists and curators you wanted to work with and cross-checking the attendees.

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but wonder if Wanda was already in New York and if she was looking for you.

“Check this out!” you exclaimed, shoving a business card in Natasha’s face before you pushed past her to get into her apartment. “It’s official, I’m an artist.”

She laughed as she closed the door, her eyes on the card. “Hi, it’s nice to see you, too,” she deadpanned.

“Sorry, hi.”

“Well, looks like you’re all set. When’s the party?”

“Next week,” you replied, taking a seat on you former bed, her sofa. “I’m a little nervous, but also excited. I don’t know, it’s a strange feeling.”

Natasha pinned your business card onto the fridge using a magnet before she opened the refrigerator door and retrieved a bottle of orange juice. She took two glasses from the cupboard and joined you on the sofa.

“But, yeah, I’m ready. I have over two hundred business cards, I know who I want to work with, and I even bought an external battery pack just in case.”

“And what are you going to wear?” Natasha asked before taking a sip of orange juice. You looked at her with wide eyes, panic written all over your face. “You forgot to buy a dress,” she concluded out loud. “Why am I not surprised?”

“With everything going on, I completely forgot I had to... wear clothes.”

“I’m sure James wouldn’t mind seeing you in your birthday suit.” She laughed when you practically shoved her off the sofa. “Come on, I’ll help you look semi-decent.”

You groaned. “I don’t want to go shopping right now. Plus, I blew all my money on business cards.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s freezing outside, I’m not leaving my apartment,” she replied, reaching for her laptop. “You’re going to rent it.”

“Ew,” you made a face.

You remembered the formal wear store where you had rented your prom dress. The place smelled like moth balls and sweat, and the dress had given you a rash. Not a great memory.

“Trust me, I know this is your first but I’m a seasoned veteran. I’ve been to dozens of fundraisers, and I had to wear dozens of designer dresses. Do you even know how much a Saint Laurent evening gown cost? You can’t wear the same dress twice. That’s a big no-no. And it’s not just the dress. You need a clutch, a pair of shoes, jewelry, a coat. You have to rent them.”

“You’re giving me a headache.”

She opened up her web browser and typed in the website address for the dress rental. As she entered your size and budget, it was obvious that she knew her way around the website and you had to admit that it was a lot easier than traditional shopping.

You looked at the collection of dresses, not entirely convinced, when you found it. You instantly knew it was the right one.

You stared longingly at the beautiful wine-red dress, made entirely of velvet. The bodice was cut on the bias, the fabric draping itself elegantly to contour the shape of the model’s upper body. The skirt was long and flowing, and the waist was cinched in with a thin black belt.

You clicked on the second picture and Natasha let out a strangled gasp. The open back was draped at the waist and weighted with a crystal on a golden chain.

The dress gave off 1930s vibes, it was elegant and refined but the back was daring and sexy. It was exactly what you needed. You paired it with a black wool cape, and Natasha offered to let you borrow a pair of shoes, jewellery and a bag.

The dress and coat arrived the next day. The woman who delivered them was kind and polite, she stayed in the kitchen while you tried on the dress. Once you gave the all-clear, she handed you your receipt.

The dress was yours for an entire week.

On the day of the gala, you were a nervous, sweaty mess. Natasha’s clutch was on your nightstand, filled to the brim with business cards. Your hair and makeup were already done. You sat on your bed in your underwear, staring at the dress hanging in your closet.

“I can do this,” you whispered to yourself.

You were adjusting the fabric around your cleavage, making sure everything flowed nicely, when you heard Bucky shouting from the kitchen.

“The car will be there in fifteen minutes.”

You took a deep breath and smoothed your hands down the sides of your dress, the tickling caress of the velvet calming you almost instantly. You reached for the handle, your heart hammering in your chest, and opened the door.

Bucky was standing at the kitchen island, looking down at his phone. He looked up when he heard the sound of your door opening.

“Hey, are you-” The rest of his sentence died on his lips as he froze. He stood there, staring at you, his eyes roaming your body in a manner that could only be called amazement. “You look-” He shook his head as if he couldn’t find the right word.

You looked down at yourself, grinning. After weeks of seeing you in your big woolly jumpers, pyjamas and painting overalls, you could understand why this was a shock. It was one to you as well.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice sounding strangled.

“Thank you.” He stood a little straighter when he noticed you were checking him out. He wore a dark blue suit with black lapels, a white shirt and a black velvet bow tie. You matched. “You look like a real heartthrob in that suit.”

He laughed and looked away, embarrassed. It was your favourite look on him; when he couldn’t maintain eye contact and his cheeks were slightly red and his nose crunched up a little.

“You’re wearing your prosthetic,” you said, noticing the stiff arm and fake hand.

“Yeah,” he replied, looking at his left arm. “This thing itches like hell, but I don’t blend well in a crowd when I’m not wearing my prosthetic. These people know me, they’ll be looking for me. Let’s not make it too easy for them.”

He finished his sentence with a wink and your entire body threatened to spontaneously combust. Do people still wink? Apparently. You walked over to him and briefly stroked his arm before you walked past him to the bathroom.

It gave him a great view of your bare back and the little crystal nestled just above the small of your back. You didn’t see his reaction but you heard his sharp intake of breath.

You left the bathroom door open while you rummaged through your makeup bag, relief flowing through you when your fingers brushed against your favourite lipstick.

You straightened up and looked at yourself in the mirror. Bucky was leaning against the bathroom door frame, observing you. You uncapped the lipstick and brought it to your lips, locking eyes with him in the mirror.

“Don’t worry, I’m almost ready.”

“I’m not worried,” Bucky replied with a mischievous smile. “Please, carry on.”

You rolled your eyes at his sudden smug expression, trying to look unbothered, but you could feel his eyes on you and you willed your hands to stop shaking. Today was not the day to look like Miranda Sings.

“What’s it called?” Bucky asked from the threshold, spellbound.

“No idea, the label has faded,” you said, rubbing your lips together to smudge your lipstick. “It has probably expired by now, my mom gave it to me when I was a kid.” You blotted your lips and tossed the balled tissue into the wastebasket. “She called it ‘Carter Red’.”

You dabbed the lipstick on your lips. “When we were kids, we used to watch her apply her lipstick. We thought she was the most sophisticated woman in the world. When she was done, she’d turn to us and ask ‘Who wants red lips?’ Then we’d leave the house in our matching red lips.”

Bucky entered the bathroom and took a seat on the edge of the tub. “Did your brothers wear red lipstick too?” he asked with a grin.

You laughed. “Pietro did. Scott was more into nail polish.”  

“Do you think I can pull it off?”

You turned to him with a wicked grin and waved your lipstick in his direction. He stood when you took a step closer to him. He seemed to enjoy the playful glint dancing in your eyes. You beckoned him closer like some kind of old witch.

“I’m sure you’d look real cute with lipstick all over your face,” you said, taunting him with your tube of lipstick.

Something in his expression changed, darkened, making you feel hot and cold at the same time. His eyes travelled down your face to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “Yeah, I’d really like that,” he spoke so softly you almost missed it.

It was your turn to freeze. You parted your lips to speak but nothing came out, you just blinked hard and stared at him incredulously, waiting for him to explain what that meant. But he never did, and you took a step back.

Did he just...? Did he just try to kiss you? No! No, that’s silly. Why would he want to kiss you? He was just being playful and you simply projected your own desires onto him.

He took a step back too and gave an imperceptible nod. “The car should be here any minute,” he said, smiling. It was a tight smile and you didn’t like it at all. “I’ll let you get ready.”

After he closed the door behind him, you dumped your lipstick back into your makeup bag and took a long look at yourself in the mirror. You looked deflated, miserable. You sighed... the night was off to a great start.

Bucky waited for you while you finished getting ready. You picked up your clutch, slid your feet into a pair of high-heel shoes, and struggled with your cape until Bucky came to your rescue. To your surprise, his smile was genuine again, and it made your heart soar. Maybe you had just misread the situation and he wasn’t upset, offended –or whatever that tight smile was.

The heels were higher than you were used to, but Bucky gave you an arm to hang onto. The sky was already dark when you arrived at the Museum of Natural History. You walked up the stairs and left your coats in the coat-check room before you took a look around the room.

Hundreds of people were milling around the hall, a glass in their hand as they weaved between the jaw-dropping dinosaur skeletons that were on display. You kept your arm linked through Bucky’s and tried not to stare at anyone.  

“Be careful,” Bucky whispered in your ear, making you perk up. “Someone once told me that the exhibits come to life after the sun sets.”

“Remind me to stay away from the Biodiversity Hall,” you chuckled. Then you spotted one of the curators you wanted to work with, you let go of Bucky’s arm and squared your shoulders. “Showtime. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, angel.”

“God, I’m sweating. Is it noticeable?”

Bucky smiled at you. “No, you look perfect.”

You gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I hope I won’t make a fool of myself. I hate small talk.”

As soon as you were gone, someone took your place by Bucky’s side. You grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and made your way over to the curator. You didn’t drink alcohol but the glass made you look like you were part of their little group.

It went horribly wrong; you stuttered when you said your name and everything went downhill after that. While you were talking, he subtly looked around to see if he could find a more interesting person to talk to, which made you stutter even more. Then as you opened your clutch and fished out a card, several others fell at your feet in slow motion.

Between the dress, the glass and the shoes, it was practically impossible to bend over. The curator left and you stood there alone.

“Let me help you,” one of the waiters said. He gathered up your business cards and handed them to you.

You sheepishly took the cards and shoved them back in your purse. “Thanks. Can you take this? I’m not going to drink it.”

“Would you like something else to drink?” he asked as he took your glass of champagne.

“No, thank you. I... I think I’m going to go find my friend.”

You smiled politely at the young man but he had a strange look on his face. He looked like he wanted to say something but hesitated.

“I saw you with Mr. Thomas,” he finally said. “I’m not supposed to talk to the guests but can you tell him I love his work.”

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

“Grant Thomas,” the waiter pressed on. “The writer. I saw you two together.” Then he leaned forward and whispered, “He only has one arm.”

Oh...

Grant Thomas was Bucky’s pen name.  

Your face broke out into a huge smile and you started giggling to yourself. The waiter recoiled a bit, confused and a little freaked out. You scanned the room for Bucky.

“Of course, I’ll tell him,” you told the waiter. “He’ll be very pleased to hear it.”

You went in search of Bucky, wobbling around in your high heels, a permanent smile on your face. After walking around for a few minutes, you felt more stable and in control, even going so far as to power walk from room to room.

You found him in the Hall of Ocean Life, entertaining a small group of people. You walked over to him, your heels clicking like typewriter keys. You heard bits and pieces of their conversation as you approached.

“Oh, it’s absolutely lovely,” a woman cooed, a hand over her heart. “Who was your inspiration for your new book, Grant?”

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly when he saw you. You gave him a small wave and he held out his hand in your direction. He introduced you to the group, and while it was strange to hear him say your name, you kept a straight face.

“I’ve looked everywhere for you, Grant,” you told him, emphasizing his pen name. “I should have known I'd find you in good company.”

“Oh, she’s the painter,” the woman said. “Darling, I hope you don’t mind me saying this but-” she extended her arms in your direction “wow!”

The woman next to her looked half amused, half exasperated. “It means you look beautiful in that dress.”

“Oh, she knows what it means, Sylvia.” The ‘oh’ woman swatted Bucky’s fake arm. “Grant, isn’t she gorgeous?”

Bucky looked at you with a fond smile. “Yes, she is.”

“Oh, my heart is about to explode,” the ‘oh’ woman squealed before enthusiastically waving to someone behind Bucky. “Sylvia, darling, take her contact details. We need new blood at the gallery. Please, excuse me, I haven’t seen Michael in ages,” she said, stretching out the last word.

She was gone before you could comprehend what was happening. Her laughter echoed through the room. Oh, I hadn’t seen the back of that dress! Sweet baby Jesus!

You found her whimsical and quite intense but if you had to work for her, you’d probably end up looking like her assistant, Sylvia, who seemed at her wits’ end.

She sighed and opened her leather-bound notebook. There were several business cards attached to the pages with paperclips. You handed her one of your business cards as her boss shouted, Oh, Michael, isn’t this party deliiightful? It was Sylvia’s cue to leave.

“Thank you. We’ll take a look at your work and get back to you as soon as we can. Enjoy your night.”

Sylvia rushed to her boss who was looking around like a lost puppy. When she saw her assistant, a look of relief crossed her face. It was a little over the top but it made you smile.

“So, Grant Thomas,” you said, planting yourself directly in front of Bucky now that you were alone. “Cute name.”

“Agh, I wanted to tell you before the party but...” He shrugged. “How did you figure it out?”

“One of the waiters saw us together. He’s your biggest fan. Said you were talented, humble and devilishly handsome in that suit.”

“The waiter said that?” Bucky asked with a frown as he led you toward an empty corridor.

“I think he has a crush on you.”

“I seem to have that effect on people,” he said, linking his arm through yours.

“So humble.” You entered the Hall of Biodiversity together. “What’s the meaning behind your pen name?”

There was a small pause before he answered. “Grant is Steve’s middle name, Thomas is Sam’s. I wanted to honor them. Steve literally saved my life, and Sam... well, he stood by my side even when we barely knew each other.”

“I’m sure they were touched.”

“Meh,” Bucky said with a grimace. “Steve said it sounded like a fake name, and Sam tried to make me use ‘Thomas Grant’ instead. I think deep down they like it.” He turned his head to look at you. “How did it go with the curator?”

You cringed. “Just to give you an idea, imagine an amateur magician performing at their first show. I was sweating, I stuttered, and I dropped my cards. It was awful.”

He laughed softly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m not upset. At least he’ll remember me, right?”

You spent the next couple of hours mingling with a bunch of rich people; most of them were incredibly weird, the others were strangely relatable. You were a lot more cool and collected with Bucky by your side. He always had really nice things to say about you or your paintings, and his words rang true, giving you yet another reason to fall for him.

When you reached the planetarium, Bucky took your hand in his, his eyes sparkling with childlike wonder.

You practically had the place to yourselves, everyone else was either in the Grand Gallery or in the Roosevelt Memorial. Since no one was around, you decided to take your shoes off and walk around barefoot.

You lost track of time, listening to Bucky’s stories about the universe as he guided you along the spiralling walkway.  

“We’re just tiny little specks living on a bigger speck, floating around,” he said, gazing up at a model of Jupiter hanging from the ceiling. “Our time here is so limited, our bodies are so fragile.”

“Umm,” you hummed. “At least we’re not at the bottom of the food chain.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that would be a bummer.”

“Do you know who’s at the bottom of the food chain?” you asked. “French fries. I’m starving.”

His laughter rang out, loud and clear, in the silence of the planetarium. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

You headed for the coat-check room, where Bucky left one of his ridiculously generous tips, and stepped outside, shivering from the cold winter night. You looked up at the stars glistening in the dark sky while you walked the short distance to the fast food restaurant.

You ate your fries in silence as you glanced around the restaurant. It was bright and gave off a friendly vibe. There were several other patrons even though it was almost two in the morning, though you and Bucky were the only ones wearing designer clothes.

Your high heels and clutch rested on the booth next to your hip, and Bucky’s bow tie was tied around your wrist. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a tanned, muscular chest and a smattering of dark hair.

Bucky had removed his prosthetic after you’d found a booth. His fake arm rested on the table, scaring the hell out of the waitress when she came to take your order. Bucky apologized profusely, probably mentally adding another twenty to her tip.

You dozed off in the cab, utterly exhausted, your cheek resting against his shoulder. His arm was draped over your shoulders, his thumb sweeping up and down your collarbone. When you remembered that you still had to remove your makeup before going to bed, you let out a whine and nestled closer to him. He rested his head on top of yours, and you closed your eyes, enjoying his closeness.

A few days later, you told Natasha about the party, and she reminded you to be careful, to protect your heart. She wished someone had given her this advice when she’d met Sam.

It had never occurred to you that Natasha might have feelings for Sam, not because he was an awful person. No, it was quite the opposite. He was handsome and funny, always looking for some kind of trouble. She’d mentioned multiple times that he was really good in bed, which honestly didn’t surprise you.

You knew she liked him, but you didn’t know she liked him.

On your way home, you mulled over the things she had told you. About a block away from your apartment, you took your keys out of your pocket and stared at the little angel keychain, wondering if your feelings for Bucky were real. The line between friends and lovers was definitely blurred but you couldn’t cross it. There was too much at stake, you couldn’t risk ruining your friendship.

As you turned the corner into your street, you spotted someone standing outside the building’s front door. You slowed down, dawdled, so you could observe them.

You couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, though you suspected a man. They were carrying a traveller’s backpack on their shoulders, blocking your view. Whoever it was, they had a fantastic ass.

They pushed the intercom button, waited a few seconds and pushed it again. When the doors remained closed, they turned around to leave and you came face-to-face with a man with long dirty blond hair, a bushy ginger beard and striking baby blue eyes. You immediately recognized him from the photos you’d seen on Bucky’s laptop.

“Oh my God, Steve!” you exclaimed, startling him.

Part 8

[animeheadcannoncentral]

NSFW ENJI (Endeavor) X READER ONESHOT

Business/CEO A/B/O AU - this just popped into my head and turned into a 10 Chapter fic you can read on Ao3: “Hidden Flowers”

Warnings: smut, Dom Enji, sub reader, rough sex, A/B/O dynamics, alpha Enji, omgega reader, alpha Toshinori, heat cycles, dirty talk

Words: 5k

(Y/N) checked her emails one final time, ensuring nothing new had come through in the last three minutes that needed her boss’s attention. She picked up the file she had organised for the day, shuffling the papers into a neat stack before rising to her feet, straightening out her clothes and marching towards the CEO’s office. She opened the door without knocking, an action that he had told her to forego many years ago, she was his secretary after all, if she had something urgent to tell him, there was no point in wasting time knocking on the door. And he also didn’t need to burden of someone knocking on his door fifty times a day. The red head was on the phone when she entered, this scene wasn’t uncommon, some days he scarcely got away from the damn thing.

Closing the door behind her, she walked up to his desk and placed the pile of papers down on his right before walking to a white board and started neatly writing out the day’s major meetings.

“I don’t care about the cost, how long will it take to get it up and running again?” Enji sighed into the phone as he noted down the time frame.

“Is there another company that can fix it faster?” she turned back and saw he was looking at her. He’d asked both her and the person on the other end of the call, he just knew she’d come up with a solution faster.

“Mack Plus have the best engineers, Trencher Co. will be quickest but they fixed that unit previously and it’s broken again, I would suggest Wheels Down Inc as nothing they’ve fixed has broken again and it will be fixed within the week” she spilled out, she’d read the email about the mining vehicle break down this morning and immediately looked at the data for previous break downs. The man nodded and wrote it down, whilst also rolling his eyes at whoever was on the other end of the call.

“(Y/N) will send through contact details for further correspondence with Wheels Down Inc, let me know once the machine’s operating again” and the CEO hung up.

“Fucking useless” Enji muttered as he started going through his emails, “got any good news?” he asked.

“Stocks are up again today?” she tried which resulted in a small smirk from him.

“And you only have one meeting currently locked in today as well, however it is with a major shipping company that we’ve been trying to create a deal with for the past five years” she frowned a little at the last part.

“I said good new (Y/N), not mediocre news” he sighed.

“It’s their new CEO, so I guess a new chance to make good impressions” she tried again.

“That’s why I’m putting you on the front line”

“I’ll do my best Sir” putting the whiteboard marker down and turning back to him.

“Have you found anything of use in Yagi’s background?” he asked as he started going through the files she had left on his desk.

“Nothing of particular use. The problem is he seems completely different to his father, since he’s taken leadership, the company has become heavily involved in charity work. Regardless of whether it was his intention or not, the shipping company has gained a huge amount of positive press. I found nothing on Yagi himself, the only thing you can really play into in this deal is the ‘make the world a better place’ because even after a deep dive on his history, I couldn’t find anything to suggest he wants anything else” she explained with a shrug.

“How do our eco stats look?” he questioned.

“Favourable, we’ve cut emissions by seventy-five percent with the new machine’s we’re using, and with the new sonar tech that’s been implemented we’ve reduced habitat loss due to our companies’ procedures by nearly ninety percent. The rest of the report is on page five” she was confident as he went through the papers and pulled out the report.

“Increase public profile” the red head raised an eyebrow at the short list of suggestions she had made.

“It can’t hurt Sir, becoming more involved with the local community could see a potential increase of upwards of twenty percent in sales”.

“At what cost?” he put the paper aside, knowing she would be able to give him a clearer answer than the document.

“Time, funding, man power” she was curt, the CEO didn’t like wishy washy explanations.

“The board won’t like that” it was a statement.

“Can’t make an omelette and all that” she shrugged and he eyed her. She had never been wrong when it came to giving suggestions or advice on what was best for the company. She would voice her opinion on occasion, when she knew she was completely in the right. It was one of the many reasons Enji kept her as his secretary and refused to promote her to a section manager, not to mention the ridiculous bonuses that he forked out to her at the end of each year for her work. She were too goddamn valuable, and unlike many of his employees, she wasn’t afraid of him. The alpha was used to people grovelling at his feet, begging and pleading for whatever it was that they wanted at the time, usually sex or money, even employment. Enji Todoroki was one of the strongest alpha’s out there, hell, he was so intoxicating some alphas had even begged him to use them. But she wasn’t like them, it was almost as if she couldn’t smell pheromones, he was almost convinced that she in fact couldn’t, going by the amount that he had released around her in the beginning to test her.

When he’d first met her, he was shocked by her professionalism, she didn’t seem to care that he was an alpha and she wasn’t deterred when he borderline threatened her during the job interview. Hell, he didn’t even know what her secondary gender was, her CV states that she’s a beta, but the way she acted sometimes, she could convince anyone she was born an alpha. She wouldn’t take shit from anyone, and she certainly wouldn’t let him dish it out to her either, or if he did, she’d give it straight back and usually be right, and always got away with it. It’s why he respected her so much and hadn’t tried to come onto her once, also because he was more attracted to submissives, and she were far from it. She took suppressants, that much he was sure off, she never smelled like anything, and she didn’t give off any scent at all, ever.

“When’s the meeting?” he asked.

“In thirty minutes” she said as she turned to leave.

“You better get to it then” he mused.

“You don’t have to tell me twice” she gave a small smile and then exited the room. She made her way down to the lobby of the building to greet Mr Yagi on his arrival, just in case he was early. And wouldn’t you know it, this ball of sunshine was always early. He walked through the front doors to the building not two minutes after she had walked out of the elevator. She lifted her shoulders, stood up straight and approached the man with confidence.

“Mr Yagi, I’m (Y/N), Mr Todoroki’s secretary, it’s an honour to meet you” she put on a bright smile upon reaching him and what must have been his secretary. It wasn’t until she reached them that she realised how god damn tall the man was in person. Sure, Enji was tall, but for some reason, this man’s height stuck out to her. And they were both businessmen, so how the fuck did they both luck out in the looks, smarts, height and muscles departments?! It just wasn’t fair. Forget about triple threat, these men were quadruple threats. They covered all fronts.

Then to her surprise, he actually offered her a hand to shake with a genuine smile.

“Thank you for greeting us, this is my secretary Izuku, we’re so glad Enji was kind enough to host this meeting” his voice was deep, but kind and polite as she shook his hand, referring to the greenette beside him. She glanced at the young man before returning her attention back to the alpha in front of her.

She had never met a business partner this kind-hearted before, the business world didn’t usually allow his kind to thrive, but here he was, the CEO of the world leading shipping company. Without even realising it her cheeks flushed a light shade of red and she felt her heart rate increase, and of course, her scent glands started aching as they tried to release pheromones. Luckily, her suppressants were working for now, but it was then that she caught his scent, everything went blurry for a second and she lost focus.

“Are you alright Ms (Y/N)?” he asked, gently stabilizing her by her shoulders. She cursed herself, why did her body have to react to an alpha now of all times?

“I’m so sorry, Mr Yagi, and (Y/N) is just fine” she smiled up at him, puffing out her chest a bit and stabilising her footing.

“Please, call me Toshinori” he corrected her and she was slightly stunned for a moment. Every single business partner she’d ever introduced had always treated her like trash on the side walk, scarcely giving her the time of day. She’d be lucky if she even got a grunt of acknowledgment from them.

“If you’d kindly follow me” she said and turned to lead the way. Taking the chance to scoff at herself and attempt to pull herself together, an attempt that miserably failed when Mr Yagi insisted on maintaining small talk then entire elevator ride. He was just being a human being, asking how her day was going, how long she’s been working at the company, if she enjoyed working here. She could feel her temperature rising with each question he asked, and pain started erupting in her abdomen.

“Please follow me” she said politely, stepping out of the elevator cursing herself, she was going into her heat early, and she was pretty damn sure it was because of the presence of this alpha. She guided the CEO and his secretary to an empty meeting room.

“Please wait in here for just a moment, Mr Todoroki will join you shortly” she said before closing the door. Her head was starting to spin and the pain was growing from annoying to uncomfortable ridiculously fast. She maintained her composure as she walked into her small office, quickly taking some pain killers with half a litre of water. She ruffled through her draws as she looked for her EpiPen, her heart skipping a beat when she couldn’t find it. She knew she had one here for emergencies. The omega let out a sigh of relief when her hand glided over it. Quickly removing the cap and injecting herself with more suppressors that would hopefully stop the effects of her early oncoming heat for at least the next few hours. She took three deep breaths before exiting her office and entering Enji’s.

As soon as the door opened, a wave of pheromones hit the CEO. His brow furrowed in anger. His employees knew better than to come to work during rutting or heat cycles, it decreased everyone’s productivity.

“Get the fuck out of…” his eyes had been fixed on the computer when he glanced at the intruder. “…(Y/N)?” he looked taken aback. There was no way she was an omega. She always held herself like an alpha, how the hell was this strong, independent woman a fucking omega? However, he couldn’t deny that her scent was causing blood to flow straight to his cock.

“But you’re not supposed to be off til next week” he went to check his calendar.

“I know, it’s come on early” she let out a stuttered sigh as the drugs finally started to set in.

“I’ve taken some emergency suppressors, my hormones should level out in the next minute or so. I um, Toshi… I mean, Mr Yagi and his secretary are in the meeting room” she shook her head at herself. It was then that everything clicked for Enji and a smile crossed his face as he rose from his seat.

“He’s sent you into an early heat, hasn’t he?” the alpha’s voice was low, but there was a hint of playfulness behind it. She ground her teeth, refusing to answer the question, instead choosing to look away. He approached her, a smirk still playing on his lips, instead of walking through the door, he shut it, as he caged her between his arms.

“You know better than to not respond when I ask you a question, omega” he let the work hang in the air, testing her boundaries. Her brow furrowed and she glared up at him.

“You don’t get to call me that” she growled at him, then noticing that he was purposely releasing pheromones to try and rile her up. If she hadn’t just shot herself up with enough suppressants for a week, she would probably have slick running down to her ankles by now. Her boss was unfairly attractive.

“Answer the question (Y/N)” he leaned close to whisper into her ear.

“So, what if he has?” she burst out, ducking out from under his arms and walking across the room, folding her arms, “All he did was smile at me and I lose control, what the fuck is wrong with me?” she sighed angrily rubbing her temples.

“When was the last time you properly went through a heat?” Enji asked her, she looked back at him to see a genuinely concerned face. When she had taken her mandatory time off for her mating cycle she never stopped responding to emails, most people wouldn’t touch their computers during the height of a mating cycle, it all became too much, but she was always online, which told him that she probably hadn’t let her body go through a normal cycle in a while.

“I don’t know, during high school, like eight or nine years ago” she shrugged and the CEO just blinked at her in shock.

“I had more important things on my mind” she shied away from his judging look.

“That’s still a long time” he pushed.

“It’s not like I had an alpha to help me through one!” she suddenly shouted at him, she stared him down for a moment before realising what she’d just said and who she had just said it to.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, that’s not your fault, nor something you should worry about, fuck I hate this” she muttered.

“(Y/N), be honest with me, have you ever been through a proper heat?” he asked, when she turned to him this time, there was nothing but concern in his face.

“No” she didn’t make eye contact with him, but she had no reason to lie to him. Enji hated how submissive she was being, this wasn’t her at all, while a dark part of him did want her begging for his cock, he hated seeing her looking so vulnerable, he wanted to protect her, to make her feel safe.

“Look, I’m going to be really selfish now, but if you think you can handle staying for the meeting then I could really use your help. If not, I’m also more than happy for you to go home. But you’re going home before lunch today either way and I strongly advise you don’t take any more suppressants” he paused for a moment, as if trying to word something correctly, “What I’m about to say, I’m saying as a friend, not your boss, if you need help getting through it, i can help you. But who knows, maybe you might actually be able to get his number and he can help you” the alpha growled slightly at that last part, admitting and acknowledging that he wasn’t the one to set off your heat. Although to be fair, he hadn’t purposefully released any pheromones around you since you had your job interview with him. The girl let out a sigh and composed herself, straightening out her shoulders.

“I’m staying for the meeting” he knew she would, “but I am not going through a full heat” she said firmly, walking past him.

“(Y/N)!” he was about to say more, but she had already walked out the door, heading towards the meeting room. She opened the door and put a smile on.

“So sorry to keep you waiting” she apologised.

“That’s quite alright” Toshinori smiled back at her, however he noticed that she was no longer producing the lovely pheromones that he knew he had set off. Was the girl taking suppressors? He was certain he had set off an early heat, that fact that she was supressing it frustrated him. He loved seeing a flustered omega, especially one who was normally kept together as this one appeared to be. She was going to pose a challenge, and Toshinori was going to have fun pulling her apart and turning her into his little slut. The thought had him half hard in his pants. This omega was going to belong to him, one way or another.

Enji followed her into the room. The two CEO’s shook hands and introduced themselves to each other before commencing the meeting. (Y/N) was a sharp as ever, handing Enji the correct documents when they came up in conversation and was able to provide any information when called upon. Izuku wasn’t as sharp as she was, but still maintained a professional standard and look about him, the boy certainly didn’t let the woman’s sheer dominance fluster him. The meeting went as well as it could have, they both signed a contract of partnership, so it went better than both parties were expecting. Seeing her in action just made Toshinori want her more. She was professional, sharp and confident, and he wanted to be the one to own her, to see her trembling underneath him, begging for his cock. Somehow, all four of them managed to remain professional throughout the entire meeting, there were no sly words with hidden meaning, and (Y/N) was thankful for that.

Enji Todoroki was never one to escort his guests out himself, it just wasn’t a thing that he did. So, he left the meeting as he usually would with a ‘pleasure doing business with you’, but he purposefully changed the wording on the following sentence ‘my secretary will get you anything you need before you go’. She burned holes into his back as he exited the room. She was going to kill him. The next morning’s headlines would read, ‘Secretary jailed for attempted murder of her boss’. She sighed, shaking her head slightly.

“Midoriya, go wait outside, I’ll be down shortly, I just need to go over a few things with (Y/N) before we leave” the tall blonde uttered to his secretary.

“Of course Sir” the boy said before he exited the room. Toshinori’s eyes didn’t leave (Y/N)’s, who still had her business face on. He couldn’t read her. This was going to make things more difficult. After seeing her in action, he wanted her even more, and without even realising it, his pheromones radiated off him. But she was acting as if she couldn’t sense them, which pissed him off.

“What can I help you with, Sir?” she asked, her tonne polite, but holding no emotion behind it. Unlike their first interaction where she put on a sweet, warm smile for him, she was bitterly cold now, purposely trying to shut him out.

“I don’t like corporate titles, I told you to call me by my first name” he sighed, rising form where he was sitting, she was going to be more of a challenge then he originally thought. That was fine, he was actually excited.

“Is there anything I can get you, Toshinori” she said softly, not removing herself from her seat as the man walked around the table removing something from his pocket. He handed the small piece of paper to her.

“You seem like a very professional woman, so I hope you don’t take offense to this, but here’s my number, I’d love to catch up for a coffee sometime” he said with a smile and she took the paper from him carefully, the man was letting off an absurd amount of pheromones which were causing her to literally burn off the suppressants she’d taken no more than two hours ago.

“I…uh…” she tried to respond, but the alpha gripped onto the side of her chair, leaning over her to whisper in her ear.

“Let me know if you need any help with your heat, something tells me you’ve never had an alpha look after you properly before” he growled lowly in his chest before pulling away and walking out of the room with a smirk on his face.

Once she finally recovered, she heaved herself out of the chair and found that her panties were completed soaked through, luckily it hadn’t yet soaked through to her actual pants yet. She made a quick dash to her office before closing the door behind her. She turned the internal heater on and grabbed the emergency blanket from the bottom draw, wrapping it around herself and hiding in a bundle under the desk with her laptop as she continued to work, hoping it would distract her from the slick pool that was growing around her cunt and the immense pain growing in her lower abdomen. At about three in the afternoon an email came into the inbox that needed the CEO’s immediate attention. She was too worn out by that stage to register that he had told her to go home and she probably shouldn’t be working at all. She flicked the email to him without a second thought.

Upon receiving said email, Enji’s brow furrowed, she should have been home by now. He quickly opened the door to his office just to check she had in fact gone home, letting out a low growl when he noticed her light was still on. He stormed across the corridor and opened the door, a wave of sickly sweet pheromones hitting him all at once. He was confused when he didn’t see her sitting at the desk, she had to be in the room, there was no way the place smelled this sweet without her being in there. He closed the door behind him and walked around the desk to find her nesting. His first thought was to yell at her for not listening to him and also for using the goddamn office to nest. But then he saw she was shaking as she tried to type out an email, it took a moment for her to noticed him crouching there looking at her incredulously.

“I told you to go home” he rumbled deeply, and she winced.

“I… I can’t walk” she admitted, refusing to make eye contact with him. Something burned inside him, obviously that alpha had said something to her to set her off again, and then just goddamn left her. It infuriated him, sure he’d done the same thing to plenty of omega’s before, but this was his…, no not his, this was (Y/N).

“I want you to send a message out to all staff working today and inform them that they can knock off” he said calmly. She was confused by the instruction, but took a minute to type out the message and sent it on his behalf.

“Now close the laptop and give it to me” he said gently, and she cautiously complied, handing him the laptop before he placed it on the desk over her.

“Come here” he motioned towards himself, and she went to move, but her eyes widened in panic and she returned to the way she was sitting, confusing the alpha who was doing everything in his power not to just grab her and knot her right there.

“If I move, it’s gonna run” she whispered, his face scrunched up in confusion for a second.

“What’s gonna…” he stopped short, she was worried about her slick. She really had never gone through her heat’s properly before, she was embarrassed by something that was normal, something that made him almost lose control and show her just how normal it was.

“That’s okay, it’s normal” he said, still offering his hand to her, she looked at him then, searching his eyes that were looking at her with kindness. There was no malicious intent behind them. She slowly reached for his hand and crawled out of her makeshift nest, pausing for a moment when slick gushed down her thigh, before continuing to crawl out from under the desk. Enji noticed she was clutching her stomach the entire time. She lifted her face up to look at him, she had tears in her eyes.

“Enji, can you please…” she paused trying to think things through, “can you please fuck me?” a tear rolled down her cheek when she said that and the alpha wasn’t’ sure if she was crying from the pain or from giving in. He unintentionally started releasing pheromones, having an omega so close to him, and especially considering that omega was clearly under a lot of stress, his instincts were taking over.

The omega couldn’t help herself when she caught his scent, she latched onto him, rubbing her face into his chest, taking in as much of it as possible. Seeing how well she responded to his pheromones, Enji started released them in waves and the little omega in his arms sighed and then started doing something he thought she’d ever do. She had split her legs over one of his muscled thighs and was rubbing herself on it. If he hadn’t been stiff before, he was definitely rock hard now. The omega was whimpering with each thrust of her hips, and soon enough, Enji could feel his pants becoming covered in her slick. He would never allow an omega to dry hump him like this, but she looked so goddamn perfect as she chased her orgasm on his thigh. He ran a hand through her hair, gently tilting her head back, forcing her to look up at him.

“Are you enjoying yourself? Little omega?” he asked lowly, she let out a moan then made eye contact with his stone-cold eyes, that screamed indifference.

“Please…” she whimpered, by the way she was shaking, he could tell she was close.

“Please what?” his eyes narrowed as he looked down at her.

“Can I p-please c-cum, alpha?” she begged, and something stirred in him, maybe she was a submissive after all. And as much as that excited him, he wasn’t going to be cruel to her right now, he had promised to help her after all. So many dirty things flooded into his head to respond with, but he wasn’t sure if they’d scare her off or turn her on. He decided teasing her was the best way to go.

“You’re so close already, and I haven’t even touched you” he mused, easily picking her up off his thigh and placing her in his lap, she let out a moan as she rubbed herself against his clothed erection.

“Good omegas look at their alphas when they cum” he whispered in her ear and then leant back into the chair, to watch her as she came undone. The girl did her best to look at the alpha as she rode out her orgasm, but her head titled back in euphoria at the height of her orgasm causing Enji to bite his lip to try and control himself. She was going to send him into an early rutt if he wasn’t careful. The girl was shaking as she came down from her high, however, her eyes widened slightly when she comprehended what she’d just done and she quickly looked away, causing Enji to smirk at her expression.

“Come now, you enjoyed yourself, didn’t you, (Y/N)?” he asked, gently grasping her chin and guiding her head to look at him.

“Yes, but…” she trailed off.

“But what?” he asked curious, although, the alpha was well aware of the answer, he just wanted to hear her say it.

“You’re my boss and I just, oh my god” she hid her face in his chest and he chuckled deeply.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m thoroughly enjoying this” he looked down at her to see her flash dagger eyes at him before she doubled over, whimpering in pain as she clutched her stomach.

“I can make the pain go away, you just have to ask” he whispered into her ear. She lost all normal sense as her instincts took over.

“Please fuck me, please alpha, I need your cock, use my cunt, please” she begged and a thrill rushed through Enji’s body.

“You’re so pretty when you beg” he trailed his hands down her body, hooking them under her thighs and lifting her up before easily manoeuvring her onto the desk. He rolled her pants and panties down to her ankles in one go, and was pleased to see that she had removed her shirt when he looked back up and was in the process of removing her bra, before laying down and displaying herself to him.

“Sir, please, I need your thick cock inside me, please fuck me” she begged again, looking him the eyes, on the verge on tears. The alpha released his hard cock from his restrictive clothing, stroking himself as he watched the omega writhe below him. It was a dream come true, seeing her beg for him like that, and it was taking his last piece of self-control not to dive in and fuck her immediately. He leant down over her, slapping his cock against her cunt, teasingly as he gently moved his hand to stroke her face, she nuzzled into his palm.

“Alpha, please, use me for your pleasure, I’m yours, please alpha, please” she begged again, attempting to thrust her hips upwards to gain any form of friction. Enji’s last fibre of constraint snapped, and with no warning, he thrust into the hilt and his omega let out a scream a pleasure. Even though this was her first time, there was enough slick pouring out of her cunt that his massive tool didn’t hurt her, it stretched her perfectly and hit all the right places as Enji started to thrust in and out of her cunt.

“Fuck… your cock… mhmm, feels so good, alpha, do whatever you want with me” she panted as he rammed into her. It was invitation Enji realised. He smirked as he gripped her throat with his free hand, and she let out a whine. Gently running her hand up and down his arm, encouraging to grip her neck tighter.

“Do you like that, little slut?” he whispered into her ear, and she nodded, her hips thrusting up to meet his.

“Good pets reply when they’re asked a question” he sneered, gripping her neck like a vice.

“Yes daddy… I love it when you choke me” she managed to wheeze out using the little oxygen that she had left in her lungs. Her words were nearly enough to send him over the edge.

“You’re such a filthy omega, I bet you’d do anything to please your alpha” he growled as he pulled his hand away from her throat, hooking one arm behind her back, the other under her thighs so he could lift her up. Her legs wound around his waist, arms hooking around his neck as he fucked up into her cunt, using gravity to enhance the angle.

“Mhm… anything to please you, anything, use me as your cock sleeve, I’ll be your cum dump, I want to satisfy you, please Enji” she moaned into his chest. This omega was going to be the death of him. She’d used his name, which meant that there was truth behind what she was saying. He could feel his knot starting to swell up.

“Fuck, you dirty whore, if you don’t stop talking like that, I’m going to knot you” he growled.

“But I mean it Sir, i need you to use me, I could keep your cock warm during long phone calls, mhmmm, you could come in here and fuck me whenever you wanted to, I need to pleasure you, please alpha” she whined.

“I bet you’d even let me fuck you in the middle of a meeting, wouldn’t you? Fuck. You’re mine. You’re my pretty little cum dump. You are mine, all mine” he growled possessively, thrusting deeply into her. It was enough to send her over the edge into an earth shattering orgasm, screaming his name as she clenched around his cock. He was patient and waited until she came down from her high.

“Alpha” she whispered in a sighed, he grunted, informed he was listening.

“Do you want to cum in my mouth or my ass?” she asked with a sly grin and he smirked, this omega had stamina, and the fact that she could keep up with him just made her that more attractive.

“All fours, face down, ass up” he ordered as he placed her on the ground. Oh and did she move quick for him.

“You’re such a perfect little omega for me” he cooed to her as he knelt down behind her, hotdogging her ass with his slick covered dick, using the slick build up to cover his knot.

“Please, use me alpha, I’m all yours” she begged.

“You’ve cum twice now, and you still want my cock. You greedy bitch” he growled, thrusting inside her back entrance, forcing his knot inside, scraping against her walls. The omega beneath him let out a muffled scream of pain.

“If it’s too much for you, I can take it out” he wasn’t being kind, he was teasing her as he fucked her ass. (Y/N) pulled her teeth from her arm and panted before responding.

“I’ll take your cock whenever you give it to me alpha. My perfect, handsome, strong alpha. I’ll give you anything, I’d do anything to please you. I belong to you” she moaned, it was enough to send him over the edge.

“Fuck (Y/N)” he muttered, with one deep thrust, he poured his seed into her ass with a guttural moan.

“Thank you alpha” the omega whispered as he slowly rotated her on his cock so she was facing him before picking her up and sitting down in the chair as they waited for his knot to shrink.

“You were so good for me” he cooed, continuing to whisper soft nothings into her ear as she leant against his chest.

[alj4890]

I have an ask. We know in TRR Book 3 Ch10 Drake is the one being challenged by Neville but what if The King is the one to challenge Neville? After all he’s the one that would talk down to Riley during book 3 and nit once did Liam stand up for her during those times? So I wonder if Liam knew what Neville had said to his future Queen what would his reaction would be. I feel at least that Riley had the choice to punch him! Lol

A/N: Okay, seriously. WHY didn't all the other love interests tell Neville off?! He even annoyed Olivia with his pouting and whines. I get the tension between him and Drake and all; but Neville was talking bad behind Liam's back about his choice to elevate MC to becoming a duchess regardless of whether or not she was engaged to Liam. He was such a jerk to Hana and who in their right mind could be mean to her??? As protective and sacrificial as Maxwell was, (he did show getting ticked off whenever Neville opened his mouth), why wasn't there a dance fight between the two🤣 Now that my mini rant is over, let's see what would happen if Neville pushed Liam too far.

Masterlist

@gkittylove99 @darley1101 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg

Too Far

It wasn't noticeable at first.

He even somehow managed to make friends.

Neville had a way that made him appear as the perfect example of a gentlemanly noble. His cultured tone uttering compliments and his ability to appear humble before his betters had assured his place within Cordonia's high society. Being heir to an earldom and not too horrible to look upon also set him up in life to have a variety of ladies to choose from.

Or so he believed.

When Prince Leo abdicated, the nobles of Cordonia were actually laughed at by the rest of the world. The teasing began with mere good natured ribbing at parties of how unfaithful a Cordonian must be.

It was enough to sour any disposition, especially one that was already so.

Neville Vancoeur kept his noble mask firmly in place. Nothing was going to stop him from his destiny.

Nothing. No one. 

But the newest crown prince was best friends with, it was disgusting simply thinking of the word, a commoner. A commoner! What noble much less a direct descendant of the king himself would ever align themselves with someone who was absolutely worthless

Yet, the embarrassment that was Prince Liam didn't end there. He then went on to favor a poor waitress from America of all places. A waitress. He redeemed himself in Neville's eyes when he chose Countess Madeleine Amaranth of Fydelia to be Cordonia's queen. Though he didn't quite understand why the normally shrewd countess would allow the waitress to travel with the nobility, perhaps it was to give Drake Walker a playmate (one has to entertain pets, he supposed) he accepted it as a way to appease the people they ruled over.

Then New York happened. King Liam threw aside a well respected, birthed to perfection noble for that mongrel American who did not possess the first clue of how to behave amongst Cordonia's elite court.

Neville would have found it humorous if he was not permanently tied to his country.

To top it all off, not only was he forced to endure such unworthy company, he was shamed in front of them by some minor noble who had failed to win Liam. He blamed that brief moment of weakness for finding Lady Hana attractive on being inadvertently influenced by what had to be Drake and Riley's baser inclinations.

There was only one action left to a man so much more above these lowly peasants.

He was going to have to put these people in their proper place.

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

Liam knew that some of his fellow nobles took their positions as some sort of right in lording over those they considered their inferiors. It had never sat easy with him. He himself had a mother who had been a, "simple commoner". Yet, being in the tenacious situation he was in as a new king, he had to ignore for the most part their rude behavior.

But there was only so much he could stand when it came to the one he loved.

He knew something was going on the night of Madeleine's ball. As he stood on the other side of the ballroom, listening to Duke Godfrey drone on and on, he noticed Drake bump into the future earl. He knew there were very few nobles his best friend respected so seeing the flash of anger was normal.

Riley's though was surprising.

That unusual bitter twist to her normal, friendly smile followed by what he could only assume were heated words between his love and Neville made him feel the need to rush over and place himself between them. That desire to protect Riley was so strong that his body had already turned to leave Godfrey mid sentence.

But then Neville walked away.

Maxwell's brief sadness followed by Hana's irritation had him focusing once more on Riley's anger turning to resigned acceptance. Her relaxed stance returned as his group of friends found a table to sit and enjoy their meal.

He knew then that he would need to keep an eye on Lord Neville for the rest of the Unity Tour.

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

It didn't surprise him at all the insults and tension between Drake and Neville during the charity polo match. Liam felt sorry for Rashad and Maxwell being stuck on their team and forced to work with the two men that seemed to truly despise one another.

Liam also felt a large bit of pride when Riley used Neville's refusal to pass to Drake to score.

He also was relieved that Neville had not turned his disdain toward her.

Perhaps he was beginning to respect his future queen.

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

It shouldn't have affected Liam like it did. Maybe it was the fact he was under so much pressure from keeping his father's cancer hidden, the fear from hearing he had been rushed to the hospital, all the terrorist attacks and threats, and then having to focus on pampered nobles instead of actually running his kingdom that caused him to lose his last shred of patience.

This ball was one that he had looked forward to. It would be the first of his escorting his Riley before the court. He had waited so long for such a moment to show his world how proud he was to have won her heart.

And Neville had to ruin it during their first dance.

The heated exchange of words escalated when Riley jumped in to defend Drake. Liam could see the utter hatred and lack of respect Neville had for the two people he was closest to. The way the young lord talked down to his beloved sent a bitter resolve through Cordonia's king.

"I've had enough of your insolence!" Neville snapped.

Liam saw his hand reach for his pocket and begin to withdraw a white glove. Before he could think through what he was about to do, he slapped Neville with the back of his hand, cutting short the challenge the lord was about to issue to Drake.

The entire court gasped. Silence fell as all watched this rare occurrence of Liam losing his temper.

"I've had enough of your insolence." Liam bit out. "Lord Neville, I challenge you to a duel."

Neville paled. His eyes darted around the ballroom, searching for anyone who might possibly be on his side. Seeing no sympathy, his chin lifted.

"I accept." His voice cracked slightly.

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

"Liam, why are you doing this?" Riley gripped his hand as they walked out to the courtyard.

"I'm tired of his attitude." Liam explained. "Especially around you."

"I can handle his snide remarks." She countered. "What I can't handle is the thought of you possibly getting hurt."

Liam paused and slipped his arm around her waist. "You don't think I can take him?"

She smiled, looping her arms around his neck. "I know you can." She snared him with a tender kiss. "Just make it fast. There's a certain king I want to slow dance with."

His lips curved once more before turning toward the growing crowd. "As my queen wishes, so it shall be."

With a wink to her, he removed his sword from its sheath with a dramatic flourish.

Her delighted laughter followed him as he faced his opponent.

Neville swallowed uncomfortably as Constantine laid out the rules for the duel.

He barely managed to block Liam's blows, footsteps retreating most of the time. His lip curled into a snarl when the new king sliced into his blazer.

"My lady was right," Liam taunted, "that is a dreadful dinner jacket."

Neville's cheeks burned when those watching nearby chuckled. Each time he tried to make an offensive strike, Liam not only blocked it but somehow turned it into a point in his favor.

At one point they locked swords. Neville hated he had to tilt his head up to meet Liam's eyes. He hadn't expected to see the coldness there.

"You will apologize to Riley and Drake." Liam commanded in a low tone. "You will also never speak to either of them with such disrespect again."

"Why should I?" Neville breathed. "They need to learn to respect their betters."

"Really?" Liam's tone held a sinister edge. 

With an elegant spin that happened in the blink of an eye, he knocked his opponent’s sword out of his hand, caught it in mid air with his free one, and had both blades crossed with Neville's neck in the middle.

"Well done!" Constantine cheered from the sideline.

Riley let out a whoop as she hurried over to Liam's side. 

"Wasn't there something you wished to say to her grace, Lord Neville?" Liam asked

Neville's ready sneer died when he felt a slight nick to his tender skin.

"Forgive me, your grace." He managed to say without choking. "I will remember my manners when next we meet."

Riley gave a regal nod of acceptance.

Liam lowered the swords. "You're dismissed."

Neville scurried through the amused crowd, keeping his eyes downcast.

Riley yanked Liam into a passionate kiss once all the compliments were given and the crowd dispersed.

"My lady?" He asked with a grin. "What brought that on?"

"Nothing except my impressive Prince Charming fighting for me." She responded. "Perhaps he would like to find somewhere more private where I can better express my admiration."

"As you wish." He handed his swords to a servant as the couple sneaked away for a moment alone.

[shirtlesssammy]

7x05: Shut Up, Dr. Phil

Then:

D E A N

Now:

A real estate agent goes under the salon dryer of death. Heat is SO damaging to hair, amirite?

Dean Winchester continues to be haunted by the death of Cas, his brother’s psychosis, and Amy. 

He starts looking into a case because drinking only takes up 99% of his time these days. Sam comes back from a run and asks about Dean’s wellbeing. 

Dean angrily deflects.

(The Leviathans are on the Winchester’s tail.)

Sam interviews the victim’s sister. He asks if she had any enemies. The sister tells him that everyone loved Wendy. Dean interviews the stylist at the salon.

Looking around the room, he finds a coin. He calls Sam later and they discuss, coming to the conclusion that it might be some kind of hex talisman. 

At a construction site, a dude makes a pit stop at a port-a-potty. While he’s inside, the nail gun comes alive and riddles him with nails. Dean later interviews the local law enforcement about the death. Dewey was a good man, pillar of the community --and they have no clue how the nail gun worked since there wasn’t a source for power anywhere around the place. Dean finds another coin.

Sam discovers that all the victims were working on a real estate development together, along with a developer named Don Stark. Don’s still alive --and he might be the next victim. 

The brothers head to interview Mr. Spike Stark. While talking with him, his assistant, Jenny, pops in and it’s clear that he enjoys her cupcakes. Sam makes a bathroom excuse to explore the house. In the bedroom closet, he finds half of it empty, and a box full of witchy stuff. 

Dean continues to talk to Don. We learn that Dean is IN A VERY BAD WAY --LIKE SO BAD --like, guys, this is the lowest of lows. I had to avert my eyes, and weep for the lost soul that is Dean. He seemed... impressed... with.. an... autographed... photo... from... the devil himself, and I’m not talking about Lucifer. 

Sam comes back and asks about Don’s wife, Maggie. They’re “going through a rough time.” Sam presses him and he admits to having a brief “thing” with an associate. The brothers imply that maybe Maggie was behind Wendy’s death and Don could be next. 

Outside, they notice more dead plants. 

They head over to Maggie’s to investigate. Dean sneaks inside the house to find a death shrine --with Jenny on the board. Sam, watching for Maggie’s return, tries calling Dean, but runs into Maggie (Cordelia!) instead. She doesn’t want to talk, so Sam sets off her car alarm to warn his brother. 

Dean scampers outside with Jenny’s photo in hand. She’s Maggie’s next target. Upstairs, Maggie notices that her closet door is open, finds the missing picture, and replaces it with a backup photo. She draws a red X over Maggie’s photo in blood. (Note to self: always have multiple copies of revenge photographs, I guess?) 

Jenny pulls cupcakes out of the oven, the very picture of wholesome, sugary charm, when the spell activates. 

Blood drips from the cupcake she’s bitten into, which is now filled with a beating heart. She begins to choke on it, when the Winchesters arrive. Sam finds the hidden coin and shoots it just in time. After allowing Jenny to cycle through shock, they tell her that she’s been hexed. They advise her to flee several hundred miles away. They ALSO tell her to stop carrying on an affair with Don Stark. She’s DEEPLY OFFENDED at their implication and sums up her feelings about her boss in one word: “Ew.”

This is one of those weird moments in the show where you wonder if there’s a point being made about assumptions about professional women or the irony of these two men scolding a woman for her potential relationships or even different presentations of femininity and then the show just sort of forgets what it was doing and wanders off into the next room.

The next room, in this case, is Maggie’s charity auction. 

Maggie and her assistant, Sue, organize the works of art and prepare for the auction. Her assistant tells the audience that she was the one to tell Maggie about Don’s affair, and manages to squeeze off a tiny “I love you” before Maggie rushes off again. (I look directly into the camera.) Don arrives, complaining to Maggie about how her charity work has edged him out of her life completely. She, in turn, complains that his development obsession has done the same. ALSO, we learn that they both know about hunters, and that the two Winchesters are gunning for her. Maggie doesn’t seem terribly concerned. 

Don heads back outside, only to watch a bust of his face shatter in the town square. Maggie smiles down on him from above. 

Back at their motel, Sam and Dean prepare an exciting spell with rapidly spoiling chicken feet. 

At the auction, Maggie hands a celebratory martini to Sue, who pulls out the olive and shrieks to discover that it’s...an EYEBALL instead. Incensed, Maggie stalks through her art display which is quickly melting. (Outside, Don smirks in his car.) Sue vows to stand by her side no matter what, only to be neatly beheaded by a flying silver tray. Apparently, the War of the Roses is on between these two pissed-off married witches.

The Winchesters arrive later to find Sue’s body and one very ruined auction. They put two and two together. Just in case we didn’t get the reference, Dean ACTUALLY name-checks the War of the Roses as they assess the situation: they have two witches to hunt. 

Storming into Don and Maggie’s home a little while later, the Winchesters perform their chicken-feet spell. It...fizzles out.

For Look at These Two Goofballs Science:

Maggie immediately pinpoints the problem: their chicken feet were spoiled. While the Winchesters stand there gormlessly, Maggie and Don casually begin to cast their own spell. Sam and Dean decide to “counsel them” instead of fight.

The Winchesters tell them they are MFEO and they should totes kiss and make up. The two witches beat up Dean and Sam for comic effect while they discuss their relationship. 

Maggie and Don bond over beating up Dean and Sam - and even though this is a VERY CHEESY scene, I melt a little bit because I do love these two Buffy alums. 

Later, Dean and Sam return to the motel, having NOT gotten the bad guys. They’re confronted by the creepy guy (leviathan) who’s been stalking them the entire episode. Don stuns the guy for them! Yay, Don? Don then fishes the cursed coins Maggie planted in their beds and they all part cordially. 

Sam wants to know if Dean paid attention to the Starks’s cathartic counseling session...because Sam wants Dean to spill out his feelings too! Dean is hugely resistant to the idea of sharing his emotional baggage and they leave town with Dean’s sorrow unexplored.

Quoteydale High:

Don’t say ‘yeah okay’ like yeah okay

I observe with my eyes

There were tiny, beating hearts in my cupcakes. There were hearts in my cupcakes!

There’s always something eating at me. It’s who I am

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[tae-cup]

Old Money and Brooklyn Babies

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Summary:  “Those summer nights seem long ago. And so is the girl you used to call The queen of New York City. But if you send for me, you know I'll come. And if you call for me, you know I'll run” - Lana Del Rey (Old Money) 

Genre: Modern/Realistic Au, Angst, like Fluff if you squint, rich people au??

Warnings: Yandere-ish themes, LANGUAGE, drinking, sexual tension (but no smut!), unhealthy relationships, heavy topics, maybe at the end if you think about it maybe depression?, Pathological liar (s?) are involved, your brain has been warned #trust no one. 

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 7.3k Words 

A/N: Ahhh this was such a challenge for me to write but I hope you guys enjoy it! PS I’m sorry. And I’m really nervous to post this because I don’t know how it will turn out askldfhsalkdfh

Other: Masterlist

      Loving him was intense, a whirlwind of emotions that could only be compared to a hurricane, a tornado. There was a time when loving him was explosive, a train on its way to be wrecked. The feeling hadn’t disappeared. 

      You knew it when you saw him standing on the staircase, a new love around his arm. You felt the room buzz when he saw you. Now, standing in this bar of sweat and alcohol where you could barely pay for your next drink, you wondered how things went so wrong. 

     Just a few weeks ago, you were the queen of New York City, the heiress everyone was talking about, and now you were a nothing, just another nobody in a sea of other nobodies. 

     Did he see it in your eyes? Did he see the desperation? The same look you had given him a few months ago, the kind of look that he had described as beautiful and exhilarating. Now he turned away in disgust. You tightened your grasp on your glass. 

It was your fault. 

You had ruined it all. Like you always did. 

Six Months Ago 

1 A.M. wake up. 

Obsess over what you were going to do for the day and plan it meticulously in your mind. 

3 A.M. 

Get out of bed. 

make yourself a cup of coffee and stare in the mirror for a while. 

    You stood tall, you knew you were a beautiful woman. After all, everyone had been telling you this since you were little. You could easily pass for royalty, that’s what you always thought and you wore it well. 

    You jutted your chin out, running a hand along your jawline. Then you made sure to put every hair in place, perfectly positioned. The mirror had a small crack in the corner, you made a mental note to buy a new one. 

     You put on your dark shades sunglasses so that you could barely even see inside. Nonetheless, you stumbled around your apartment like a model, refusing to look unfashionable even in the cold abyss of your living room. Who knew if someone was peering through the windows? That’s why you kept it as dark as possible. 

     You tripped over the couch. Since when was that there? You asked yourself angrily, as if you hadn’t been living here for the past year, a pretty bubble world built up carefully over a year of work and dedication. 

    Reality couldn’t catch you here. You stumbled around blindly for a while and then found the door handle.

5 A.M. 

 With a decisive click, your day had begun. 

      Astteria Jewelry, a company your father had invested in dearly when he visited the states. You hadn’t been there, but you’d heard a lot about the visit from the newspapers.

“Hello?” You cleared your throat, tapping on the top of the glass counter until someone came over, looking a bit annoyed. The woman’s face was twisted uncomfortably before she plastered a kind smile on her face. 

“How may I help you?”

“Yes, yes, I need to try those on.” You pointed to the chunkiest rings in the case. They were encrusted with large and small diamonds, all glittering beautifully. 

     The woman shot you a skeptical look. You just peered down at her through your dark shaded glasses. She was really straining for that pleasant smile now. 

“Of course.” She said tightly and reached under, unlocking the case, and bringing the rings out. 

“Ah, I quite like this one.” You gasped happily. The rock on your finger was hard to even hold up, but you liked it well enough. “I’ll take it, as you probably know, my father will be quite happy with this gift.” 

“That will be $247,000.” The woman pursed her lips as she removed the ring and placed it back in a box. 

“Perfect.” You declared.

“I need your card.”

“Nonsense! Do you even know who I am?” 

     The woman shook her head, her irritation visibly growing.

“That’s quite alright. You know, my father is a great friend and investor in this company. He has often bought for my mother from this very fine store. I think he even gave us a discount at some point?” You said casually. “My father is the chairman of Sinopec, I think you know it?” 

    The woman stilled then she looked suspiciously at the door and back at you. “I’ll give Mr. Betta a call.” 

“You better.” You snapped back, your patience wearing thin. You were the daughter of Sinopec’s chairman. Everyone knew you, obviously. 

    The dial tone was especially loud in the quiet store. A few rings and he picked up. 

“Yes?” You heard the muffled voice. 

“Sir, there’s someone here claiming you gave her family a discount?”

“Who?”

“From Sinopec.” The woman turned away, whispering furiously. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea. Okay okay, I will.” 

“Well?” You turned to her, looking every part the agitated socialite, 

“Mr. Betta seems to be under the impression...that you should be allowed this ring and we’ll charge your father.” 

“Of course.” You said quickly, taking the box out of her hands and striding out of the store. 

    Your heart was racing. You felt a weight on your chest and it wasn’t the ring. 

     Heather was rich. You knew her to be Old Money, everyone did. You always expertly placed yourself next to her in class. She didn’t seem to mind. She was beautiful, maybe even more beautiful than you, but you would never allow that thought to come to fruition. 

     Heather held herself like a commoner, to put it lightly. She got her morning starbucks, waited in line, ordered and waited patiently, got on a bus, commuted to school and got to class early. You realized a big part of being a ‘normal’ person was waiting around. 

“Heather, I was also at that party the other night.” You said to her as she scrolled through her photo album. 

“Oh? Really?” She chewed on gum, the sound smacking across her lips. You felt an itch of irritation, but pushed it away. 

“Yeah, really.” You drawled.

     You carefully placed your ringed finger close to her line of sight. She glanced down for a second then back at her phone, then back at the ring. She put down her phone. 

“Where did you get that ring?” She inquired, suddenly very interested in you. She picked up your hand and surveyed the ring from several angles. 

“Astteria.” You said nonchalantly. “My father is a good friend of Simon Betta.”

“Who’s your father?” She glanced upwards with a confused look. 

“Zhao Dong.” You said easily. 

“The chairman of Sinopec?” Heather looked up, confused. “I’m surprised I didn’t recognize you! You’ve changed since I last saw you.” 

    You smiled and nodded at her words. 

“I know. I spent some time away.” You looked nonchalantly at your nails. 

“Well you look great, Y/N.” She continued with a small smile. 

“Thank you, I know.” You tossed your hair. “Tell me, Heather, are we close? Would you consider me a close friend?” 

“I…” She stuttered awkwardly. “N-not close close, but I know your father and...your mother?” She interlaced her fingers and looked away, embarrassed. “Truth be told, I haven’t been keeping up with Sinopec as of late.”

“That’s perfectly alright.” You assured her. “Now, I’ve been looking for a charity to donate to. My dad has been bugging me about the yearly donations.” You said the words so easily, like water out of a waterfall. 

“Oh really?”

“Yes, I was wondering if you know any because...well, I know you’re into those charities and non-profits.”

     The sound of pages being turned filled the room and you turned back to your work. You didn’t even bother reading the page or taking notes, you had another mission at hand. Heather turned back to her work and after a while, she cleared her throat slightly. 

“There’s actually...a gala for an organization that helps fight for LGBTQ+ rights. Would you like to come? I could get you an invite if you just send me your address.” She lowered her voice.

     You glanced around. Everyone was focused on their work so you nodded. 

“I’m really into helping out when I can, you know? Here I’ll give you my number-” you stopped, thinking it over. “Actually, give me your number.” You prompted. 

“Oh? Alright?” She recited her number and you typed it into your phone. You felt her heated stare on the old phone in your hand. 

“It’s a friend of mine’s old phone.” You said. “My father has yet to send me the latest one.” 

“I see.” Heather narrowed her eyes and went back to taking notes. 

     You sent her a quick hello and smirked, going back to write down notes. Columbia College had been quite pleased to hear about all the non profit work and extracurriculars, not to mention your straight As in school. It was what you deserved.

 “Y/N!” Heather waved you over and you descended the stairs with a smile.

     There stood Heather in the middle of this grand ballroom. You tried not to look impressed. 

“Heather.” You greeted her with a smile.

      She pulled you into a quick hug and then grabbed two champagne glasses. Gold rimmed and bubbling with clear yellow liquid, she handed you a glass. The room was decorated lavishly with red drapes covering dark alcoves and chaise lounges positioned in the corners. These lounges were occupied by men and women all dressed to the nines. This type of luxury was what you deserved. 

“You look gorgeous!” She complimented as she took in your appearance. 

      You had borrowed a dress from your much richer friend, though you personally believed that you pulled off the look better than her. You were the most beautiful after all. 

“Ah, thank you. You look exquisite as well.” You brushed a stray hair from your face. 

“Ah, Ms. Y/L/N.” 

     You turned to the voice and were met with a familiar face. You were shocked to even see him at a place like this. He hadn’t struck you as this kind of person.

     You had first met Park Jimin in a club. The lights were dim and you could barely make out his face, but you knew he was beautiful, just like you. The club was a world of beautiful people, all pressed against each other and sweating. 

“How old are you?” He asked, looking you up and down as you sat at the bar. You smiled slyly, swirling your drink to the pounding music. 

“Probably too young for you.” You shouted over the music. 

His hands went to his hair. “Listen! My hair looks gray but I can assure you I am a 25 year old man in good standing!” 

    You laughed. He seemed nice, genuine. It was a breath of fresh air. His entire aura screamed that he was important, yet his personality quite opposed this notion. You looked him up and down. 

    He was a man of stature, standing tall and proud amongst the crowd, his hair was a silver gray, his eyes of a similar shade. Jimin was either high society or had no idea how to have fun. You were a perfect match. 

“I believe you.” You replied happily, setting down your drink. “Want to get some fresh air?” 

     He smoothed down his coat and you wondered why he was dressed so formally to go to a nightclub. 

“I’d like that very much.”

 “Jimin.” You greeted him happily. He gently took your hand in his and kissed the back. 

“It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He said cordially, a hint of mischief in his eyes. 

“And you.” You bowed your head gracefully. 

    The music of the gala swelled and Heather cleared her throat. Her eyebrows were raised as high as the bronze arches that hung above you. 

“You two...know each other?” She asked, eyeing Jimin. 

Jimin nodded. “Yes, we met, achem, a little while ago.” You were grateful he didn’t mention the club. 

“Well, Jimin is actually performing tonight, aren’t you?” Heather turned to him expectantly. 

“Oh? Performing?” 

The man seemed embarrassed by the sudden attention on him. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Ah, yeah, well, I’m just singing-”

“Jimin is an excellent singer.” Heather nodded and you followed suit. 

“I’m not that great. My mom just had enough money to bribe the manager.” He joked and you chuckled along. 

“Yeah, I get that.” You agreed. “But I’m sure you’re an amazing singer, Jimin.” You looked him up and down, a smile growing. 

“He is!” The other girl chimed in before Jimin could protest. The clock chimed 8:00 P.M. and you glanced upwards. 

“I think that’s my cue to go.” Jimin announced, waving off a waiter who offered him a glass. 

“Alright! Best of luck, Jimin.” You bowed your head politely and he did the same.

    Heather watched the interaction intently. Once he was gone, she started laughing which caused you to look over at her sharply. 

“You guys really just eye fucked each other for a whole five minutes. I didn’t think it was possible after seeing Anna’s reaction to him. At least it was mutual this time.” 

“Anna?”

“Yeah, the daughter of the guy who made Adobe or whatever.”

“Oh, of course, I remember her.” You said easily, grabbing another glass of champagne.

  You were going to need a lot of alcohol to make it through this night, but these luxuries were what you had always wanted. 

 “I would be careful, though, Y/N.” She glanced around. “He doesn’t have the best track record with women, though he attracts them like bees to flowers.” 

“Oh I see.” You followed her eyes. “But from the way you look at him, I can assume you’ve been one of those women?” 

               She narrowed her eyes and then chuckled, though the sound was a bit strained. 

 “Me And Jimin? No, no. I can admit he is handsome, but we would never make a good pair.” Heather was quiet for a moment and then she crossed her arms, her gaze growing distant. “He’s too caught up in himself. You remind me of him.” 

 “I beg your pardon?

 “Forget I said anything.” 

     The music began to swell and you looked up from your conversation as the curtain on the stage began to lift. The din of the room died down. A man with a rainbow pin and black tuxedo stood center stage. He held himself with confidence.

“Thank you, everyone, for attending this charity event for the Audre Lorde Project. Today, we are so grateful to be able to present Mr. Park Jimin as our entertainment for the night. If you donate, he will sing a song of your choosing!” The MC leaned in. “Just don’t be inappropriate, folks.” He winked.

 “Now presenting….Park Jimin!” 

       You watched as the familiar man walked on stage. He looked quite dashing, sporting a rainbow tuxedo and white shoes. You were sure they must have cost a fortune. His rings alone must have cost at least $21,000. Then his shoes, oh, his shoes. They were perfectly clean, so white they could reflect the dim lighting. 

       People were quick to go up and pay for a song. The songs started at $1,000 and you pursed your lips, checking your wallet. Did you have enough? Yes, of course you have enough, you’re the daughter of Sinopec. 

      You set your mind on deciding a song. Heather began chatting to you about school, but you were hardly paying attention. You started drifting towards the box that held the donations. Heather moved along with you, unknowing to your next move. You straightened, holding up a hand, which quickly silenced Heather, and zeroed in on the box. 

    Withdrawing your money, you wrote a quick check for $1,000. Then you haphazardly tossed it into the box. Then you wrote your song on the sign up sheet and went back to the center of the room. You waited, tapping your foot impatiently. You wanted everything now, but you could try to be patient for once. 

   Heather continued talking about...whatever she was talking about. Halfway through her rambling, a familiar tune began to play. Your eyes shot up from where they were resting on your drink to the stage. You could feel Jimin’s heated stare.

“I think I'm too cool to know ya. You say I'm like the ice, I freeze. I'm churnin' out novels like Beat poetry on Amphetamines.” He sang and his voice was a perfect tune.

    You felt your toes curl pleasantly as his sweet voice tingled your eardrums. Brooklyn Baby by Lana Del Rey. You eyed him up and down, taking note of a particularly expensive looking Rolex watch. 

     As you made eye contact with him through the crowd, your heart thumped an untimely beat. Mine. 

     Jimin left hand in hand with you. What a sight to see. A couple that no one had expected, one out of the blue. You giggled, shifting over in the back of the cab to Jimin’s place.

     His hand slowly inched its way over to your thigh and gave it a light squeeze. Your eyes stayed trained on his face. The dark city streets casted eerie shadows over your figures, but you felt calm nonetheless. 

    Your hand reached out and touched his cheek. A wordless communication. May I? To be answered with you may. And he leaned in, diving into your arms, melding his lips against yours like you were meant to be. You both gasped for air, but it was a battle for dominance and neither of you were about to back down. 

    You bit playfully at his lips, devouring his strawberry lip balm like it was your last meal. He pushed against you so your back thumped against the door. His hands found your hips and he pressed into you tightly. 

    Your hands gripped his hair and you refused to part from his lips, the cold metal of his Rolex dug into the fabric of your dress. You wanted that watch. 

    The taxi slowly pulled up to the apartment complex and you both hurried out. Jimin haphazardly overpaid the driver and you both took a break to get your bearings before walking into his high end apartment building. 

“Hey, let’s try to look like we didn’t just make out like animals, okay?” Jimin patted your arm.

    So you went about smoothing down your hair, pulling down your skirt a little lower, and patting your cheeks gently to try and, in vain, dispel the light flush. 

     You both stumbled your way inside, laughing drunkenly. He helped stand you upright, a strong arm wrapped around your waist. There was a jingle of something falling to the ground, but you paid it no mind. He helped you all the way up to his apartment where you leaned against the wall while he searched for his keys. 

“Shit!” He cursed, sinking down beside you, his back thumping against the wall. “I lost my keys.” He grumbled. 

“Ah, that’s fine.” You laughed, “Just my luck.” 

“You seem pretty lucky, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I’m lucky, I guess, but I want a lot more than luck, you know?” 

“And what do you want?” 

“You.” You answered quickly.

     And that was the first time a lie had registered in your addled brain. Because that wasn’t true, no, not at all. Jimin was wonderful, handsome, smart, but you wanted something more material than these flimsy emotions.

    You wanted money. As you watched his expression melt into a lustful haze, you flexed your fingers and clenched them over and over. You could play his game of emotions, you could do it. You thought as he went in for another kiss. 

    It was a cold morning. Jimin had black out curtains. You could hide from the world very nicely here. You were awake at 1 A.M. 

    After a long night of searching and making out, the searching part of which you found far more enjoyable, you found his keys. He had dropped them in the lobby on the way in and the desk attendant had grabbed them. You went through your routine, replacing yourself with a pillow in his arms. 

“Huh. I always thought that only worked in movies?” You tilted your head and went back to your routine. After a while of getting ready, you sat beside the bed, watching him. 

    He breathed steadily. You glanced around, finally deciding to explore. You stood, picking up discarded clothes and observing his apartment. It was big, bigger than yours. 

   There were expensive things everywhere. You could guess he was old money. A glint of gold in the morning light caught your eye. You walked over, carefully not to disturb the floorboards. On his bedside table was the Rolex watch. 

“You can keep it.” His gruff voice said. “It’s not important to me, but you’ve been eyeing it all night.” 

“Why would you give this to me?” You asked, lifting the watch to look at it in the slim sliver of light that cracked through the curtain. You wanted to applaud his awareness and observation skills.  

“There’s something about the desperation in your eyes, Y/N. It’s exhilarating, beautiful, new. People are so...complacent, so okay with their situations nowadays, especially when you’re in positions like you and I. I’m giving it to you as a promise that this wasn’t just a one night thing. I’m serious about this.” Jimin rolled over in bed. “I like people like you, Y/N. I fall in love with people like you.” His words were soft, his expression was stone cold. 

    And you knew what game he was playing at with extravagant promises and carefully chosen words, you were playing the same game. So you simply let him win. 

    You could do that, for him, because as much as you were using him to help yourself gain a boost, your heart was beginning to lead you astray. And you could not let that happen. Still, that scent of cinnamon and the taste of strawberries would likely always remind you of him. 

    Perhaps it was obsession that took you back to his place over and over again. It wasn’t so much him, but the idea of him. Maybe it was the idea that he was rich, that he had money, that he was handsome, but all that aside, you were perfectly incompatible. 

     Jimin was old money, old money that was long gone. For as long as Jimin remembered, his father had worked very very hard to run his company into the ground. Whether it be with the drinking or the extravagant parties, his money was gone. 

     He had an unquenchable thirst for money. Some could call it an unhealthy obsession. So when he met you...oh boy. You exuded this confidence, the kind only old money could have. He wanted it. 

   Call him cruel, but he didn’t mind stepping on a few toes to get where he needed to be. He didn’t mind crushing some woman’s poor dreams. He really didn’t mind. You were another stepping stone. You were supposed to be just another tool for success. 

     In his alcohol induced state, probably drug induced state as well, he came to the conclusion that you two would make quite a pair indeed, a power couple. But he needed you to become more powerful. It would be a mutually beneficial relationship. 

“I don’t know, Jimin, I can get pretty nervous at interviews.” You had told him in response, but there was a gleam of excitement in your eyes, he didn’t read too much into it. 

“I think you’ll be fine.” He patted your back with a smile.

      Looking back, he never should have gotten you that interview with the New York Times. It was a poor decision on his part. Maybe if things had gone better, if he still remained ignorant of his situation and drank himself into debt like his father, he would be able to continue living his fantasy world. However, this would not be the case. He was not someone who was afraid of getting his hands dirty. And oh how dirty they were to become. 

 “Thank you, Miss Y/N, for joining us.” The reporter settled down across from you. 

“Ah, it’s a pleasure.” You smiled. The woman smiled back and prepared her notepad. 

    She was a hardworking woman. She wore flats and a nice outfit for this interview, but as you analyzed her posture and position, you knew she would most likely prefer something more comfortable. She slumped ever so slightly, her lipstick was well applied but her nail polish was cracking and half peeled. 

“I’m Anna and I’ll be interviewing you.” 

“Anna? As in Anna, Adobe Inc’s daughter?” 

“Yes!” She nodded happily. “I’m glad you remember me! You know, I only met you once really and we were children so I’m not surprised to see you’ve grown into a beautiful woman. Let’s see here…” 

    The interview began. 

“What was it like, growing up with Zhao Dong as a father?” 

“Well, Anna, he was absent a lot.” You said without a second thought, thinking back to your childhood sadly. “But he tried his best. I think I get a lot of my outgoing nature from him. He’s really a role model for me.” 

“And do you have the same goals and aspirations that he has for the company?” 

     You chuckled lightly at the question. 

“Oh dear, oh no.” You said, like it was some preposterous question. “Honey, he is all about the money. I am nothing like that. I’m all about human connection.” 

   Anna seemed pleased by this. Her eyes lit up and she hurriedly went to write down notes. 

“You seem like such a nice, down to Earth, person, Y/N, how do you get this mindset after being raised so...well, rich.” 

“I’ve gotten used to a lot of luxury, yes, but this does not take away from the fact that my father was always strict on discipline. He put a huge emphasis on respecting others and respecting situations we cannot comprehend. It is a valuable lesson I take to heart.” You nodded seriously, your hands gently folded in your lap. 

   Anna was, once again, pleased by your answer. You seemed to be telling her the right things. 

    Soon enough, your face was on the cover of every newspaper. The rich heiress to Sinopec is here in New York City! Or Y/N Dong, the future of the wealthy and elite. 

     You could bathe in the attention all day. In fact, you bought about 15 copies of the story and spread them around your apartment. You meticulously cut out each and every sentence that called you beautiful, complimented you, or even mentioned you and pasted them to the blank walls of your home. Even bad press was still press. After you were done with your hard work, you collapsed on the sofa. 

 “Knock knock!” 

      You jolted upright. You looked around your apartment. The curtains were drawn over the windows, just like they always were. You looked around. Your apartment was a mess. 

     The floor was littered with pieces of paper, the fridge stood open and there were expertly placed scissors just lying on the ground waiting to be stepped on. You blinked wearily. It was a disorientation akin to being hungover but not quite. 

“Knock knock?” 

    Your neck almost snapped with how hard you looked at the door. Shit. You immediately stood up, groaning in pain as you ripped your hand from the couch. You had somehow managed to glue your fingers to the fabric and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. 

    You started madly sweeping the paper, quite literally, under the rug. Then you threw open your windows and were reminded of why you kept them closed. They faced a brick wall. A lovely sight to see. 

    You frowned, but rubbed your eyes and carried on in your cleaning frenzy nonetheless. The knocks sounded once more and you finally answered.

“One sec-” You cleared your gruff voice. “One second!” 

    You tripped over the coffee table and you withheld a scream of frustration. Instead you threw your hands up in anger and let out a silent shout. 

“Everything alright in there?” 

“Yup! Just- give me- a moment-” You held your stubbed toe and every curse you knew flew through your head. 

    You then ran to the mirror and quickly brushed through your hair. Finally, you made it to the front door, looking as presentable as possible. 

    When you opened the door, two familiar people shoved their way in. 

“Ah, this place is smaller than I expected.” Heather announced, setting down a gift bag, Jimin entered after her with a shy smile. His face conveyed Heather’s words. 

“Yeah, sorry, it’s only temporary. I used to live down at Wall Street but then there was a pipe problem with my neighbor and you know...water damage is a real problem.” You clicked your tongue unhappily and they nodded sympathetically. 

“That’s completely understandable.” Heather said, moving to get a closer look at your walls. “Interesting decorations.” 

“I like words of affirmation to hang around my apartment. It helps build self confidence.” 

“Looks like you already have enough of that from the article I read.” Jimin chuckled, fingers brushing over a sentence plastered on the wall. 

“Oh, you read that?” Your cheeks heated up. “It was nothing, really.” 

“You’re practically everywhere, Y/N.” Heather pointed out. “It’s like knowing a celebrity.” 

“But I’m no celebrity.” You said humbly. “I’m just a normal person.” 

“My normal person.” 

    Possession. It was a common theme in your growing relationship with Jimin. You quite liked it. Your heart would always thump. A smile grew on your face and you gave him a quick kiss, one he returned gladly. 

“You guys are disgusting. Get a room.” Heather huffed. “Anyway,” She turned and grabbed a gift bag as you and Jimin parted. “I’ve got this gift for you. Call it a congratulations for being on your first ever cover. I was only 15 when I was on mine, but whatever.” 

“You didn’t have to.” You exclaimed, but happily took the gift. You threw out the tissue paper like an animal. “Oh! Earrings! I love them!” You exclaimed, surveying the expensive earrings. You assumed they must be at least $30,000. 

“Well, it’s just a little thing. Also, I forgot to mention it, my birthday party is next week and I’d love for you to come! I’ll send you the invites!” Heather interlaced your fingers with hers and you shot her a wry smile. 

“Of course, we’ll be there.” Jimin answered for you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

“Oh! I forgot to ask, has your father seen your article?” Heather inquired, it was a simple ask, one that had you twisting your hands nervously. 

“Oh yeah, I’m sure he has.” You said softly. “But he’s very busy as you know, so he just hasn't gotten in touch yet!” You assured her and when she nodded, you breathed a sigh of relief. 

    You didn’t want to know much about Jimin besides his family, his money, and how he looked. You just wanted him to be yours. 

    Jealousy. Yeah, that was definitely the green monster, as green as a freshly mowed lawn at bucking-fucking-ham palace. This feeling in your stomach was definitely jealousy. You told yourself you couldn’t feel jealous of Heather.

     Heather even explicitly said she’d never fall in love with Park Jimin, but that was a real trick, a trap, because everyone fell for Park Jimin. There was something about the way she held onto his arm that had you transfixed, how she casually brushed his side when reaching for something. 

    You were seeing green and red. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her fucking hand for one second, even when other people were trying to get your attention. The party was high caliber, celebrating the birthday of said woman. But you could care less that it was her birthday, that man was yours. 

     You were like a predator, stalking the perimeter before swooping in for the kill. You puffed out your chest and walked straight into their little conversation. 

“Jimin, Heather.” You greeted them with a warm smile, but inside you were screaming. It was a primal urge. 

“Y/N! I’m so glad you could make it!” Heather pulled you in for a hug and you both balanced your champagne in one hand while doing the awkward one armed move. “Jimin and I were just discussing the latest actions of the Audre Lorde Project.” 

“Oh, that’s wonderful.” You smiled slyly, all teeth and no glimmer of joy in your eyes to be found. “I just wanted to personally deliver my gift to you.” You thrust out the package. 

“Oh no no, you don’t have to! Besides, if you do, then suddenly everyone will want to come over and I just want to talk to you guys for now.” She lowered her voice and smirked. 

    You nodded, though your fingers clenched around the handles tightly. You trudged over to the gift table and haphazardly threw the bag among the other gifts. 

    It wasn’t anything special, just the ring you had gotten from Astteria. You had wanted to get rid of that old thing anyway. You glanced at the two, still talking. You gritted your teeth and stormed away to the bathroom. 

      You and Jimin did many things together. You learned his favorite color, his mother’s name and her favorite song, you learned about his life, his backstory. However, your favorite thing to do with Jimin was to make out. 

      Now, this might seem shallow, but making out with Jimin was like heaven on Earth. He knew how to move his lips, touch just the right spots, to get you melting. 

     He was the sun in a New York City heatwave and you were a popsicle melting below. It was truly a sight to behold, although Heather would disagree. As your hands would play a game of untying ties with his suit, your mind played a different game, a far more deadly one. 

“I love you.” You reeled him in. He followed you like a moth to a light. “I love you a lot.” You declared and he simply fell away under your grasp. 

     You had always enjoyed the sight of people falling beneath you as you stripped away their exteriors to find what made them tick. 

“You’re mine, Jimin, all mine.” You breathed heavily, gasping for breath as he moved to your neck.

     He made quick work of the clean skin, littering it with purple marks, delicately crafted by his skilled lips. His teeth grazed your ear, making you suck in a breath. Your, his, rolex watch pressed into his warm skin. 

“Tell me, Jimin, tell me you’re mine.” You said desperately and he groaned in delight. 

“I love it when you talk to me like that.” He peppered kisses along your jawline. “I love that sound, begging for me like a dog.” He gripped your jaw, pulling you closer, but you didn’t mind. “I’m yours, baby, but only if you’re mine.” 

“I’m all yours.” And he dove back to your lips like an animal.

“I’m madly in love with you, Y/N.” He murmured. “And you’re all mine.” 

    It was a perfect fairytale, but all fairytales need a villain.

     I have no idea who this woman is, posing as my daughter. She is an imposter for sure, or delusional. The subtitles on the T.V. read as you flipped through the article that just landed outside your door. 

     You seethed, feeling your heart sink as one by one, the article undid your many lies. You almost wanted this destruction, because with it came release.

   The release of pressure on your chest, from the weight of all these lies. They were carefully built, framing you in the perfect light, but you didn’t want everything to be undone. 

“What’s going on?” He picked up the phone. Your hands were shaking. “Y/N? Are you alright?” 

“I-I...don’t read the news, meet me outside my apartment door.” You said quickly, your voice quivering. You heard him roll out of bed. 

“Okay. I’ll be right there.” 

     You sent the same sentiments to Heather. You needed to explain this before they found out. You needed Jimin to understand your side of the story. Jimin was yours. No one else should have him. Ever since you’d set your eyes on him, you had known he was to be your newest obsession. 

“Y/N?!” Heather’s screeching voice echoed up the stairs and you knew it was too late for her. 

“I know what you think about me, Y/N, but I don’t feel the need to flaunt my riches. I may seem like a real stupid bitch, but I’m not.” Heather snapped, slapping the newspaper down in front of you while you waited with Jimin.  He picked up the paper before you could stop him. 

“Y/N? Is this true?” He asked cautiously, his eyes scanning the page. 

“Y/N? How could you?” 

“Y/N?” Y/N Y/N Y/N. The chant was dizzying. Everyone wanted a piece of you, damn it. 

“Shut up! Shut up!” You cried, breathless. 

    They both stopped. Heather’s eyes were pure anger, but Jimin looked confused, lost. He abruptly stood and you went along with him. Heather turned on her heel, storming out. 

“Don’t talk to me again, freak.” Heather said, her words bitter as she exited into the cold morning air. Mornings were always cold it seemed. 

“How many things have you lied about? Are you even Y/N? Is that even your name?!” He questioned, the buzz of anger growing. 

“I can’t...I can’t tell you that.” And you couldn’t. You’d lost track a long time ago.

“Jimin! Jimin please! Wait!” You grasped his hand desperately. He turned around furiously, sharply. 

“What do you want? You wore your little disguise so well and I, like a fool, fell for it.” His voice cracked.

“I know I’ve lied about-about a lot of t-things, but I know one thing that’s the truth,” You pleaded. “I love you.” 

His gaze hardened. “How do I know that’s not a lie?” 

    And you couldn’t tell him that either. 

      A pathological liar. Your mother would have been heartbroken by the label placed upon her precious daughter. You would have been offended as well if it weren’t for the objective truth. 

     Even when Columbia University expelled you for not only lying about grades and extracurriculars, but also just for being an awful person as they tried to lightly put it, everything still hadn’t hit home. 

     You were beautiful, fit for a queen. It was such a shame, then, when people also found out that you had no money. It made you hungry for the stuff. Now, the trick was to make sure they didn’t find that out. 

    Your mother had always been a good woman, but your father had easily gambled away all the money saved. Perhaps you got this carefree, flamboyant personality from him? 

     A narcissist. Not what you had expected as a new label either, but if it was in the papers, it must be true. In the end, all your little escapades had gotten you in a lot of debt, but the banks had just kept loaning you money. You had no idea why. Maybe it was like Jimin said, you had worn your disguise so well. 

“Wow, a narcissist, huh?” You studied yourself in the mirror.

   Your apartment was always dark, but you felt a particular chill today. You spoke to yourself, everyone else having had abandoned you. 

“I don’t think that’s right.” You argued back to no one. “I’m...Y/N...the daughter of Zhao Dong. that’s me.” You said over and over, but you were no longer convinced and deep down you knew it was all a sham, a lie. 

   One thing had built on another and another until all the lies piled up and you could no longer dig yourself out. Your head was often spinning trying to remember everything everyone had ever told you. 

   But the thing was, at a certain point, it had no longer been a fib, a disguise. You had become Y/N, the daughter of Sinopec’s chairman Zhao Dong. At a certain point, you had become someone else, and that was all you had ever wanted. 

    Then you started laughing uncontrollably before sweeping your arm across the counter, sending various beauty products tumbling to the floor. Your body shook. 

“No, no, no. It was all a lie.” You giggled. “It was just a lie, you’re just Y/N Y/L/N from a goddamn backwater town.” You slapped your cheeks, hard, as if that could erase all that was done.

   It seemed that you were the villain of this fairytale, but you couldn’t quite believe it. As you looked in the mirror, the darkness of the bathroom slowly closing in around you, you could see yourself clearly. 

    There was no doubt in your mind that you were the evil queen and there was no snow white, just you and your shitty castle. And you were alone. Not even Jimin wanted a thing to do with you, having called your reckless actions disgusting. You had assured him you weren’t a psychopath. 

    You remembered the conversation on the phone after calling him several times. 

“I’m sorry, how can I make it up to you?” You had asked. He had simply laughed bitterly and shifted his phone .

“You’ve already stolen everything from me, Y/N, and I fully intend to take back most of it, but you can keep the watch.” and then he hung up. 

1 A.M. wake up. 

Obsess over what you were going to do for the day. Fall back asleep. 

3 A.M. 

Get out of bed. 

make yourself a cup of coffee and stare in the mirror for a while. 

5 A.M. 

Take a deep breath. 

Start your day. 

    You didn’t have a home to return to. You didn’t have anyone who loved you and you most certainly didn’t have a reputation. With your face staining every front page of a newspaper, you had nowhere to hide, but you were just one person. You needed some fresh air, and where to best do that except at the top of the Empire State Building?

    You were surprised to brush past Jimin on the way up to the top floor, but you should have guessed. You supposed his mother worked there. Either way, he followed you, asking if anything was wrong. Like a fucking psychopath.

“STOP!” You cried, turning to him as you reached the top floor. There had to be roof access somewhere up here. 

“I want to know if you’re okay?” His eyes were kind and you were reminded of how everything had been before. 

    But you had already hurt each other, the past was past, there was only forward in this meaningless space of nothing. 

“Haven’t I hurt you enough?!” You shouted, tears finally making their way down your face.

     He pulled you back as you started to search the top floor, which was deserted save for two workers filing out for the night. 

“Why are you doing this?” You whispered.

      His eyes were furious, a volcano, a matchstick ready to ignite. It caught you off guard. 

“Because, even though I hate you right now with every bone in my goddamn body, I would stop you from doing something stupid, like what I think you’re about to do, over and over again. No matter what.” He stopped, words stuttering, jawline clenching as he searched for the words. 

“And maybe that’s what makes me the fool.” 

     He stepped back into the elevator and the doors slowly closed. You couldn’t bring yourself to join him, simply standing in shock at his declaration. And then he was gone. You saw him once more at a club with Heather on his arm, and after that, you never saw him again. 

     You would sometimes think you saw him; the flash of his silver hair, his figure ducking into a shop, the smell of him when you woke up, the taste of strawberry on your lips but he was never there. You didn’t need the money anymore. You realized...you had just wanted him. 

    Loving him was electrifying, like a hurricane at times and calm waters at others. You were a train on its way to be wrecked, and you had finally...run off the rails. 

 Fin

 Blue hydrangea, cold cash divine Cashmere, cologne and hot sunshine Red racing cars, sunset and vine And we were young and pretty

Taglist: @thereaderstea​ , @sadboibts​, @ditttiii​

[sparklyaxolotlstudent]

Tikki’s blessing

Because I had already made a “Plagg’s revenge” kind of fic, and Tikki deserves to do some justice herself, I wrote this.

Personally, I think Tikki is more vicious when she wants to punish someone.

-

“I can’t believe that brat!” Marinette left herself fall into her fainting couch and grabbed a pillow, screaming into it.

Tikki went out of her purse, already knowing what had happened. The class was organizing the same annual bake sale they always did, but thanks to Lila’s manipulations, Marinette had ended up with almost four times as much work as before, and half the price to boot. “Because you’re  a nice person, aren’t you, Marinette?”

At least her parents had agreed already, and some of her classmates had actually agreed to help her too, but still, what was done was done.  

Tikki has had enough of Lila too.

She knew some lies were a necessary evil in everyday life, but that bratty girl was taking it too far. She couldn’t remember anything she had said that was truth. She wasn’t even sure that the liar’s name was “Lila Rossi”, or that she was Italian.

Tikki wanted to do something about it, but by the looks of things, her current holder, Marinette Dupain-Cheng seemed to think otherwise, probably because Plagg’s current kitten advised her to not rock the boat and the take the high road, otherwise, Marinette could have exposed Lila a long time ago as Ladybug, or as herself, and prevent a lot of headaches.

Being a teenager was stressful. Being the savior of Paris was even more stressful, so Tikki didn’t like this lying liar who lies adding even more stress to Marinette.

Many people had called Tikki a “Goddess of Creation” or a “Creation Spirit” or even a “Creation Fairy”. She was none of those things. She didn’t “use” creation. She is creation itself, and unlike Plagg, she had control over what she could create, and a good intuition about creating useful things.  She wasn’t Life, however, as other people usually said, but it was close enough.

And the thing is, She is Creation of All Things, and all things include havoc and retribution.

So she decided to bless Lila. And by “bless”, she meant she was going to give Lila some of her own creation powers. She wasn’t crazy, of course giving Lila even the tiniest fraction of her powers was risky, but she could revoke the blessing at any time, and she could also put some failsafe in the bless itself.

So after she was sure that Marinette was asleep, she put her plan in motion. Tikki really hated to work without telling Marinette first, and really hated herself for it, but she was pretty sure her holder would veto her idea, as she had to admit it was a bit cruel and devious, but still, that brat needed to learn a lesson about lying. She sighed deeply, finding her resolve, and flying outside the house, going through the window.

She didn’t know exactly where Lila’s house was, but she had a vague idea for how she had heard the liar speaking. She hoped at least that was true.

Jackpot.

She finally found Lila’s house, some hours before sunrise, and found the liar’s room easily.  

Tikki smiled in a sad kind of way. Lila didn’t look different from any other girl from this point of view. Her house was nice; her room was filled with anything a teen would want.  She really couldn’t put her finger on why this girl needed to lie so much. But regardless, she had taken her decision and was going to bless this bratty kid, no matter what.

She puckered up the things that passed for lips on a Kwami and kissed Lila on the forehead. She hadn’t blessed anyone like that in a long time, so the tiny kiss shinning for a second came as a bit of a surprise. It had been so long… She sighed satisfied, and hoped against hope that this brat would learn her lesson. Heh, at least she would get to have some fun.

She shrugged and left for home. Thank herself she didn’t actually need to sleep. She’ll just ask Marinette for some breakfast cookies to get energy for the day.

The next day (Or already, for Tikki), it was Nino’s birthday, and Marinette decided to surprise him with a box of éclairs(which were Nino’s favorite) to share with the class to celebrate him. Only the freshest ingredients (As Always), the creamiest cream, and she even took the time to color the chocolate in green and blue, Nino’s favorite colors.

Everyone was happy with the treat that Marinette was offering, but before they could even bite into it, Lila… of course Lila had claimed to be lactose intolerant, throwing herself a pity party about how she wouldn’t be able to taste the oh so delicious éclairs that Marinette had made!

And she didn’t want to prevent everyone from eating the delicious treats just because she wouldn’t be able to partake in the festivities. She knew her public, and of course everyone else felt guilty and immediately reassured her that if they couldn’t get them, then no one would, much to Nino and Marinette’s disappointment. Everyone returned the éclairs to Marinette.

And Alya, good and sweet Alya, decided to buy Nino a vegan cake so that Lila could enjoy with everyone! Despite the fact that Nino didn’t like those kind of cakes, but it was for Lila’s sake!

And Alya, good, sweet, naïve Alya, got everyone to chip in some money for the cake. Lila of course took the chance for another low blow to Marinette, commenting how it was a shame that the Dupain-Cheng Bakery didn’t carry vegan option for people with allergies like her (Never mind that she claimed to be intolerant, not allergic). Marinette was quick to point out that they did made vegan option upon request. And again, Lila commented it was a shame that they weren’t ready to pick up.  

Marinette gave the whole box of untouched éclairs to Nino so he could enjoy them later, which he greatly appreciated and thanked her for them. They  were taken aback when Alya asked for her to give some money for Nino’s cake, and Lila of course took this as an opportunity to stir more trouble, she claimed to be broke because she gave all her money to some charity, otherwise she would gladly give it to the cause. Everyone was whispering about how selfless Lila was, but Nino, bless his heart, showed everyone his box of éclairs, the ones they had rejected, and kindly reminded everyone that Marinette had already given him a gift. Lila tried to say that having a bakery, the éclairs were no problem to her, but Nino very politely told her that he’d rather have the éclairs than some nasty vegan cake with fake milk. Alya got mad at Nino for being so rude to Lila, and cancelled the whole cake thing off, returning the money to everyone. She didn’t talk to Nino for the rest of the day.

Later that day, during lunch hour, Lila noticed that she actually didn’t have any money on her, but she figured she had forgotten it at home, and guilt tripped Alya into paying for her lunch, which she gladly did. She didn’t expect that Lila would get the most expensive item on the menu, seafood with garlic sauce.

And then she had to run to the bathroom after drinking her chocolate milk, which curiously, no one reminded her that she was actually lactose intolerant, but she figured she had gotten something bad in her lunch. Probably the expensive seafood she had made Alya buy for her. Then again, it was probably because she mixed chocolate milk with seafood.

Tikki snickered inside Marinette’s purse when she heard what happened to Lila (And that Alya had to run after her). Her blessing was working.

Next was during P.E. class, where Lila told Mr. D'Argencourt that she was having “feminine issues” having bad cramps and other related issues and would be unable to do the exercises. She had to run to the bathroom again when her period actually started, bad cramps included. Alya again accompanied her suffering friend.

Tikki smiled to herself after learning of this. Her blessing would allow Lila to create things about herself, so when she claimed to be lactose intolerant, she became just that. When she claimed to be broke, her money actually disappeared. She had claimed to be on her period, and now she was.

She wasn’t dumb, she knew that sooner or later Lila would claim something good about herself, but she also knew that if there was something Lila loved more than gaining attention due to her many talents and connections, she also love to play victim to get out of showing those fake talents and connections, so anything good she said about herself would immediately be negated by something bad she said about herself. And even if she didn’t play victim, Tikki thought it would be a nice trade-off if she used an actual talent (gained through magic, but still) to impress other people, instead of her usual lies.

She also know that although the brat wasn’t a master manipulator like Marinette thought, she also wasn’t particularly dumb, and would eventually realize she was under a spell and would try to take advantage of it. And the failsafe would act at that moment, revoking the blessing.

It could last a day, a month, or all of Lila’s life, but Tikki was in no rush, after all, she was Creation, and she was eternal.

[yoonsshadow]

BLIZZARD BLUES ⎯ myg

⇰ summary ; There’s a storm coming. Literally. And some idiot is standing outside singing Christmas carols.

⇰ pairing ; yoongi x fem!reader

⇰ genres ; strangers to friends to lovers[?], snowstorm!au, romance, fast burn [?]

⇰ themes ; fluff, a bit of crack

⇰ warnings ; talk of a natural disaster [blizzard], lots of banter, brief talk of male genitalia [balls lol], a bunch of sweetness

⇰ word count ; 1.8k

⇰ note ; Happy holidays everybody!! I hope that you all have a safe and happy day, no matter what you are celebrating. [Also this is largely unedited.] xx

It doesn’t always snow on Christmas Eve. Sometimes, when the sky feels selfish, it will open its clouds and welcome through the sunlight, especially harsh against the previous snowfall that is melting on the ground. What was once a white wonderland, snowflakes clustered together in a fine powder, becomes a muddy expanse of grass, dampened by the flowing tears of the melted icicles.

The magic of Christmas, so often associated with the pure white sheen of snowfall, is gone within hours of a clear sky.

But not today.

Today, the sky is selfish in a very distinctly opposite way.

“Temperatures will be reaching a record-low tonight, and snowfall is expected to only get heavier. With the possibility of a blizzard on the way, citizens are urged to stay indoors tonight.”

“Aish.” Licking droplets of mulled wine from your lips, you sigh at the latest news update. Just yesterday, you had been complaining of the warmth in the air, expecting yet another disappointment out of Christmas Eve. The universe seems to have answered your pessimism with a natural disaster.

Thankfully, you are one of the many lucky ones with a roof over your head tonight. The townhouse is small by standard means, but it feels so big to you. Though it may be cosy, it holds everything that is important to you, every memory that you have collected over your life, every momentum that has ever brought you joy. It is an extension of yourself, of your innermost being, and now it even protects you from the howling wind that you can hear picking up outside.

As you sit in front of your roaring fireplace, wrapped in blankets and listening to the Michael Bublé christmas album play on your scratchy record player, you think that maybe this is serenity; this feeling of calm, of contentment, when chaos surrounds you.

A harsh knock at your front door breaks through the sound of the wind.

At first, you think that maybe it was a trick of the mind, or perhaps a branch hitting a window, but the rapid knock-knock-knock against the wood is far too deliberate to be a mistake. Plus, when it’s followed by several more⎯⎯less patient⎯⎯knocks, you know that someone is here. At your house. At ten o’clock at night, as a blizzard is brewing.

It takes a moment to detangle yourself from your comfortable cocoon of blankets, but you eventually shuffle to the door as quickly as your cold toes [the things just never seem to be warm] will allow. You’re expecting an emergency official telling you to evacuate, or a neighbour asking to borrow supplies.

You don’t expect a shivering, disgruntled man reluctantly singing ‘Oh Christmas Tree’.

“Your boughs so green in summertime...stay bravely green in wintertime...O tannenbaum, O Christmas Tree...How lovely are thy branches…”

“Are you seriously carolling right now?”

The man stops his ‘singing’ to glare at you, as if you’ve just interrupted the most important performance of his life. “Hey, either let me finish the song or let me move on. It’s fucking cold out here.”

“No, but like, why are you singing at all? Didn’t you see the news?” The chill of the wind is biting at you even through all of your layers, so you don’t know how he’s surviving right now.

The man sighs, the air fogging in front of his face. “Look, lady, I lost a bet, okay? I gotta sing these carols, and I’m not backing out just because it feels like my internal organs are shutting down. So, what’ll it be? I can take song requests, if you’re feeling spicy.”

It takes you barely a moment to make your decision. “Option C. Come here.”

And you all but drag him into your house.

“Y’know, this could be considered kidnapping,” the stranger says as he slides out of his soaked jacket and toes off his boots. Despite his words, he doesn’t seem at all reluctant to be within your warm abode. “You could at least take me to dinner before inviting me in.’

His voice sounds harsh, mean even, but for some reason you aren’t intimidated by him. Maybe it’s the way his nose shines pink from the cold.

“Well,” you say, already gathering some towels for him, “it seems as though you haven’t watched the news in the last three hours. There’s a blizzard on the way, buddy, and you looked about halfway to frozen already. I thought that I would save the neighbours the trauma of digging your body out of the snow.”

“How considerate.”

“What’s your name, by the way? Since I’m extending my home and hospitality to you. I’m Y/N.”

“Yoongi. Also, you barely extended anything. More like forced. But, I’m a kind man, so I’ll let you believe that you’re being selfless. It is Christmas, after all.”

“And a merry Christmas to you too, mister Yoongi.”

“Ugh. Don’t call me mister.”

“Whatever. You should go take a shower to warm up, I should have some of my dad’s clothes for you to wear. I also have a shit-tonne of blankets and a big pot of mulled wine, so whenever you’re done just come downstairs and sit by the fire. And don’t steal anything. Or piss on the carpets.”

“Oddly specific, but okay. Thanks, generous kidnapper.”

Yoongi takes nearly an hour before he re-emerges from upstairs, to the point where you wonder if he’s actually pissing in your carpets. He looks clean, though, and flushed with warmth. And absolutely adorable in the ugly, oversized Christmas sweater that you laid out for him.

“This is fucking horrendous.”

A snort escapes you at his blunt statement, watching as he sinks into an armchair opposite you. His hair is sticking out from where he’s hastily dried it. “Thank you. My dad is the reigning champion in his workplace ugly sweater competition. He takes immense pride in inducing nausea. Want some wine?”

“Absolutely.”

When you pass him a mug, the liquid steaming and aromatic, he seems to pause, hesitation in the grip of his fingers. You give him the time he needs to arrange his words.

“I guess, um...thank you. For bringing me inside.” Yoongi isn’t meeting your eyes, but the tips of his ears are turning pink. “I was probably too stubborn to realise how bad it was and...I don’t know, it could’ve ended up really bad. So. Thanks.”

“Hey.” His eyes flicker up, briefly, but enough to see the bashfulness hiding behind all that sarcasm. “It’s seriously fine, but you’ve got to make a habit out of taking care of yourself. I’ve known you for two hours and even I can tell that you don’t take yourself very seriously. Hell, I could’ve been a serial killer, and you still just walked into my house.”

“I could’ve been a serial killer as well, hypocrite.”

“Killer Caroller does have a certain ring to it,” you admit. He’s deflecting, but you accept the divergence easily. “So, mister serial killer-”

“Don’t call me mister.”

“-Why don’t you tell me about yourself? There’s a chance that you’ll be here for a little while, so we may as well become acquainted.”

Taking a lingering sip from his mug, Yoongi keeps his eyes trained on the fire before him. “My name is Yoongi, I’m a Pisces, and I enjoy long walks on the beach.”

“Romantic.”

“I was born in Daegu.”

“Makes sense.”

“I’m a music producer.”

“Impressive.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, though they hold more mirth than annoyance. “Oh, and what about you, miss charity? Tell me about yourself.”

Biting back a chuckle, you reposition yourself in the armchair to face him better. “Well, my name is Y/N, and I have never been to a beach.”

“That’s sad.”

“I take self-defense classes.”

“Convenient.”

“And I’m a social worker.”

“Very fitting.”

The quick banter between the two of you pulls a smile across your face before you can tamp it down, but it seems like Yoongi is fighting one of his own.

Somehow, you have both converged to your larger couch, huddled together in a wine-drunk, giggly mess.

“No, I seriously would’ve won! But then he totally caught me off guard. I was sabotaged.”

Yoongi’s recounting of the story of how he lost his bet is nothing short of hysterical. “This Jeongguk guy sounds like a menace,” you say, throwing your legs over his lap. “I mean, who swings their balls in a friend’s face just to distract them? That’s just low.”

“Right?!” His voice is so loud, but your little bubble is barely disturbed. “And they were all hairy, too. I swear that I found a pube in my hoodie.”

This sets you off, for some reason, and your chest erupts in light giggles. Yoongi has only told you a few stories about his six male friends, and it has filled you with a kind of joy that you don’t remember ever feeling.

“It’s just...I bet that women aren’t this immature with each other. Am I right?”

You hum. “Sort of, but also not really. A friend of mine once stole my diva cup just because she was mad at me for using her hair brush. I tried to explain that it was an accident, but man was she pissed.”

Yoongi pauses. “What’s a diva cup?”

Blinking at the man that you’re draped across, you bring a hand up to pat his soft cheek. “Oh, honey,” you whisper, offering a small smile.

Slowly but suddenly, his hand comes up to cover yours, keeping it on his face. Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t notice.

“You’re really nice,” he says. His pupils are blown from drinking, and maybe from your faces being so close. Your cheeks are flushed for the same reasons. “And totally not a serial killer.”

“I’m still undecided about you,” you joke, breathing out a laugh. “But I do know that you’re pretty nice, too. And not as bad of a guest as I thought you might be.”

“Is it-” Yoongi cuts himself off, takes a slow breath as he closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he seems determined, if a little nervous. “Is it weird if I say that I enjoy spending time with you? And would, maybe, want to spend more time with you in the future?”

A lazy grin stretches your cheeks as you tuck yourself a little closer to him. It’s peculiar, maybe, that you’ve just met a man that you feel you’ve known your whole life. Curious, perhaps, that conversation with him feels more natural than with most people you know.

But weird?

No, you don’t think so.

“No. Not weird.” You lean forward a bit, shyly; wait for him to maybe do the same. “You do owe me the rest of a Christmas carol, after all.

He does lean forward, just a bit, and just as shy.

[myvividreams]

[Maribat] Hamilton the Musical AU

When @fsketchart​ started screaming about a Hamilton AU in the discord server, I screamed back with a Hamilton the Musical AU and now it’s a thing. Feel free to scream back to me about it!

First of all, yes, this is Jasonette

At the start of this AU, Jason is two years older than Mari, recovering from Pit Madness, reconciling with the Batfam, attending therapy with the rest of the fam, and recently declared legally alive.

When Jason’s therapist tells him he has to find more hobbies outside of hero-ing, some genii in the batfam decided to ‘help’ by arranging the entire production of a play since, you know, Jason in this AU is very much a thespian in addition to being a literature nerd. Alfred is very proud

Said play is Hamilton the Musical. It’s a charity production funded by the Martha Wayne Foundation, and all proceeds will go towards fixing up and providing aid to the residents of Park Row (which is half of what sold Jason on the plan).

Mari, having just finished her second year of college, is brought in by Tim as MDC to design and create the stage costumes.

On her way to the theater for her first meeting with the cast and crew of the play, Mari is caught in a villain attack---a minor one, as far as Gotham is concerned---that is resolved without needing any sort of intervention from her. It’s Red Robin and Red Hood who resolve it (since Tim and Jason were nearby and on their way to the same meeting as Mari).

Mari negotiated for a workroom in the theater so that she doesn’t have to keep lugging costume parts and cloth around. One night, she stays in a little late and Jason catches her singing to the Hamilton soundtrack while working. He asks her if she’d help him practice. She agrees.

It’s dark out though, and Mari still has to head home. Jason offers to walk her home bc Gotham is dangerous. She agrees. Which is a good thing because they’re held up by some thugs. When they attack, Jason takes down most of them only to turn and find that Mari is a BAMF who took down two of them herself. He’s impressed.

One of the batkids catch them practicing and snitch on them to Alfred who tells Jason to invite Mari over for dinner.

Mari helps Jason practice for a bit and then ropes the other batkids into helping him. Dick has video evidence of Jasonette practicing which he accidentally on purpose posts online. Social media goes wild.

Who is this girl with the second Wayne son?? They’re so cute??

By the way, the Justice League isn’t a thing yet in this AU. For a future JL meets the Batfam trope! (Plus Mari)

A few weeks into rehearsals, Eliza’s actress calls in sick after an encounter with Scarecrow, and Mari is roped into playing Eliza’s part for the day. Mari’s good at it, to the cast’s surprise, and the chemistry between Mari and Jason is great. Mari ends up being cast as Eliza’s understudy.

Meanwhile, Damian is forced into being the Burr understudy after he and Titus repeatedly disrupted rehearsals and destroyed stage props they were still making. Bruce (aka Alfred) hopes it will teach him to appreciate the work the cast and crew are doing.

Damian needs a lot of help. So Mari pitches in and then ropes Jason in, and then they both rope in the rest of the batfam one by one. Soon Mari is visiting the manor regularly to help them practice.

It starts with Steph. She volunteers to play Philip for the chance to play dead and dying again.

They’re singing Stay Alive (reprise) when Bruce walks in wondering what’s happening. Is someone hurt?? Was there an attack he doesn’t know about?? He spies them in the middle of the living room with Stephon the coffee table while Mari and Jason are sobbing over her dramatically.  He walks out. He’s done.

At some point, they convince Bruce to do Washington’s parts and are blown away. Washington’s lines resonate a little too well with the batfam, and it makes things awkward for a while. These emotionally constipated bois

Dick is King George. He relishes the opportunity to trash talk Bruce. Jason is annoyed he can’t join him and breaks character one time to gang up on Bruce

Imagine Dick singing da-dadada-DADAAA while swinging on the chandeliers

Tim sings/raps Jefferson’s parts. What Did I Miss and the Cabinet Battles are amazing to watch. Except Jason and Tim are uber competitive, and they make additional (historically accurate!) rap lines to keep the cabinet battles going.

Cass is still mostly non-verbal, so she helps out by handing the others props or figuring out a way to add special effects (like using a flashlight as a spotlight). She also signals if the acting of the Actual Actors in the batfam is accurate/passable or not.

...Cass is also The Bullet. It’s a very respectable role, what are you talking about!

The family therapist starts wondering why the batfam’s progress suddenly jumped. It’s because they’re working through their issues vicariously through the characters in Hamilton

Dick, Steph, and Tim post videos of the fam and Mari practicing on social media. They start trending.

They also coo over Jasonette singing It’s Quiet Uptown while walking through the manor gardens, dancing on the dining table, and basically serenading each other with broadway songs all around the house. And Gotham.

They have video evidence.

(The production crew create a blooper reel of all their cast and crew’s shenanigans which they later sell on DVDs as part of the charity. Batfam and Mari take up 80% of all the bloopers on the DVD)

After social media realizes that most of the batfam aren’t in fact part of the charity show cast, people start a petition for a show with all the Waynes acting in it.

They cut it too close to the dates of the charity show for it to be possible, but their therapist mentioned to Alfred once that having the family work on a fun (non-violent) project/activity together would be good for them.

So, Alfred convinced Bruce and mentioned it to Mari who convinced Jason who helped convince the rest of the fam, and they agree to hold a concert ala the 25th Anniversary Les Mis concert in place of the final show they had initially planned. Tickets sold out in the first hour.

Damian, seeing the petition’s success, creates his own petition---for Alfred the Cat to be part of the production. Everyone votes for it.

The director tries to talk him out of it but Damian is a stubborn brat. The director finally puts his foot down and says he’ll allow it but only for the concert with the rest of the batfam. Damian agrees.

The director approaches Mari for help in mitigating the “damage” by making the cat a costume. Just in case.

(She does, and it works for about half the song before someone notices that baby Theodosia is strangely mobile. Then the baby meows, Damian coos at it during the instrumental, and the audience slowly catches onto the fact that baby Theodosia is actually a cat.)

(Alfred the Cat goes viral.)

The charity shows go live on the weekend of Jason’s birthday. Opening night is Aug 14, then they have two shows each day on the weekend. The main actor for Burr and Eliza step down on Aug 16, Jason’s birthday, to give Mari and Dami the chance to perform---and so that Jasonette can act together.

They get a standing ovation.

Unlike the full production of the original charity shows, (Mari and) the batfam’s concert was entirely meme worthy.

It had all the wackiness of the blooper reels but cranked up to eleven

Damian’s rendition of Dear Theodosia becomes a meme. Someone was able to get a hold of a video of him singing it with and without Alfred the Cat as baby Theodosia. The difference is like night and day.

Bruce half regrets that he allowed it to be immortalized on film/DVD and sold with the bloopers.

[yanderecandystore]

Happy holidays! how about a hot chocolate competition among the yandere ocs and the best one gets a special cabin date with darling?

Hello @teachillvibes, I'm so glad to see you again- Your requests are always so wonderful boo, thanks for requesting me this one!

Happy holidays everyone!! 🎄

TW/Tags: Sweet times cause I sure love them- // kinda like a city festival going on lol // I took your concept and change it a bit I'm sorry boo ;-; // it took me so freaking looooooooong to do it XD I'm sorry- I was kinda hoping that this could be my Christmas gift to y'all ;-;

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Hot Chocolate Competition [Yandere!OCS x Reader - Headcanon]:

🍒Bullies🍭

→Alexandra Coldwell:

If I'm being honest, she probably would have reconsidered sharing the prize with her brother before she can consider going out with you instead. Alexandra entered the competition solely because she thought it would be fun, after all she isn't really the type to get herself dirty if it isn't for fun.

She wanted to win of course, but surprisingly she did have a lot of fun learning how to make hot chocolate, especially with her brother's help. Alexandra thought it would only make sense to take her brother as her company into this free wintery vacation, yet for some reason he didn't accept her offer.

Adrien felt satisfied with helping his sister as normally his cooking skills are generally unappreciated or ignored, although he appreciated how his sister wanted to pay back for his help, he was already happy with just being the one that got to teach her something new, since it's normally the other way around.

And besides- Free vacation packages are always so lackluster to him, if it isn't a five star service then why even bother? He could literally pay for better treatment than what the prize guarantees anyway.

Still, she wouldn't have accepted it if she didn't have someone in mind already. Yeah, yeah, she knows you probably won't like the idea of spending time with her, especially all alone in the cold.

But- Hey, I think you should give her a chance, after all, isn't this the time to forgive and forget? Maybe not completely forget, but I'm sure she'll do her best to make this the best trip for you, ever!

→Adrien Coldwell:

Adrien is known as the lazy one of the twins, the antisocial, the "mean one" (let's be honest, they're both evil but in different ways-), yet people tend to not give him enough credit for his accomplishments.

Him coming out as the winner of the competition may seem shocking to many but let us all remember that this isn't just his random luck, Adrien really did work his best to win and since he is already interested in making sweet treats for himself you can only imagine how hard he wanted to be recognized at least once.

The prize that he won was a vacation to a winter resort of some kind for two people, meaning him and anyone he would like to bring. Adrien considered bringing his sister, since he felt like it would be better for her to spend Christmas in a cabin with him than at home with... both of their parents and, may he dare say, ridiculous Christmas songs. Those damn, Christmas songs.

But Alexandra made sure to refuse his offer each time he tried to bring up, saying that the place was probably runned down and filthy and that she would never step inside a place like that- Alexandra also said that it wouldn't be fair to go with him since she didn't help him, and that this was something he won on his on, he deserves to enjoy it fully.

But what a dilemma, who would have the privilege of accompanying him to such a "special event"?

You, of course. Even if he knows you would rather be far away from him and get some rest from his constant torment, it's not like he would leave you alone at all lol-

Hey give him a break, will you? I'm sure you'll have a great time with him, he promises he won't do anything stupid while you two are there.

Just let him repay you for an entire year of entertainment, dearest.

🍎Teachers🥧

→Madeline Allen:

Madeline is normally very uninterested in competing with anyone, even if the prize sounds amazing. What made her stay and see more of the event was when she noticed you in the crowd, maybe you were with your friends, although she didn't really see anyone she recognizes as your friends there-

What made her participate and do her very best to win? It was when she noticed how most of the contestants seemed to have a suspicious interest in you, something felt weird in those stares they were giving you. She is a little suspicious about the intentions behind those stares, yet she has to recognize that whenever there is a shiny diamond radiating light, it's hard to not notice. It's obvious that they recognize how shiny you are, love.

It doesn't really excuse their clingy behavior towards you, but sure, she gets why they're doing this, or why they would enter this competition in the first place. All to get your attention apparently.

Honestly, she wasn't planning on entering this competition at all, but… Hmmn, how can she say this nicely- She doesn't like these people trying so hard to get your attention, specially with the prize being something that would give any of them the privilege of having you all by themselves, no dearest, she can't let them have you like that-

Besides! Wouldn't you prefer being with nsomeone that is actually looking forward to making you happy, instead of being stuck with brats, with troublemakers and… uhn- A cosplayer…?

Anyway, all of them are pretty eccentric with their own weird little charm, she is sure they'll be fine, especially far away from you- Believe me, she is so excited about this vacation! Forget about these guys, think about all of the things you two can do!

She is already thinking about what she'll bring with her, some cozy warm clothes, maybe her favorite fuzzy blanket, maybe some of her favorite movies, some rope, an tranquilizer-

Well, who cares about the details anyway?? She is just so excited, she can't wait to give you the best of her cookies!!

→Matthew Robinson:

Matthew is a really reserved individual. Being part of big events is simply not his thing, but it was because of you and that sweet smile of yours that brought him to this place. And well…. The smile stuck in the other contestant's faces… Not that they were even half as charming as yours, on the contrary, they seemed oddly sinister.

Mischievous by their very nature, all of these people seem to be somewhat interested in you, breathing in your presence like you're oxygen itself. Disgusting. For the first time in his life he feels pissed off enough to say he wants to see them drop dead- Not that he'll actually do anything, he is nothing like that.

All of these people seemed really interested in winning that prize and hopefully taking you with them, which of course he couldn't allow it, as your only protection from these fiends.

When he won, he was too dumbfounded to even notice the hatred looks that the other competitors were giving him. He really did win, didn't he? He couldn't believe he won!

For the first time in his life he didn't feel satisfaction that came from the competition itself being great, no, true satisfaction came when you accepted to go with him! That's the golden prize he never thought he deserved, yet feels so rewarding.

Don't worry dearest, he'll take care of everything that you need while you two are there, you'll be treated like the perfect little princess/prince you are, like the perfect doll.

Now he just needs to be sure on what to bring, this is probably the most excited he has been since he was a child!

🍋Delinquents🐍

→Janette Sartorius:

Janette isn't one for entering in these competitions just because, there needs to be a good reason for it, like helping them raise a good funding for some sort of charity, or ya know, impressing that one really cute person in your class. Yeah, really important-

Look, she has a lot of clown energy, she knows it, but being publicly humiliated is absolutely not her thing! And that means being either the loser or the winner, she doesn't know exactly what to say when she is put into such position-

Still, if it means giving you something nice, then sure! She'll take whatever she can, although she was focusing on gaining something like second/third place so she can get something small like a plushie or a basket of chocolate, anything that would be small yet really charming- Just like you!

When the judges announced her as the winner in first place, she couldn't believe it! No- Seriously, she couldn't believe it!! She tried to make sure her presentation would be nice but mild enough to not be considered a winner!! What the hell???

Even if the universe seemed to have betrayed her by making her be the one in front of so many people as she claimed her prize, she was once again blessed with luck, as her prize was something truly worth looking like a fool in front of so many strangers-

Of course she'll take you first! Why not?? It's not that weird, it's just pals being pals and inviting each other to cool trips, ya know?? Surely she isn't screaming inside at how cliche this all seems.

Look at her, NOT thinking about the huge amount of fanfiction she had ever read where there was only one bed! NOT her reconsidering not going because she can't handle the thought of there only one bed. She is totally fine, ya know? NOT thinking you'll hate her when you learn how much of a weeb she is-

She'll make sure that you have fun with her, but you'll probably catch her trying way too hard to impress you very soon- Please, talk with babe- In her brain there is only one neuron, and it's constantly banging its head in the walls of her brain screaming your name.

→Jackson Macnee:

Jack isn't really interested in these competitions, it isn't his thing, he wouldn't waste time on it unless there was something really, really important at hand.

And it seemed like today was the day to do anything that he could to not only enter such stupid competition, but to win it at all costs. It was when he recognized those familiar faces next to yours that he decided to enter it, but it was when he noticed all of the contestants, who were presumably strangers to one another, get somewhat riddled up about your presence.

Yeah sure, you're cute, you're pretty and yes you're perfect, but seeing half of the contestants being so… Clingy over you it's absolutely ridiculous-

What? You know all of them?? Or are you going to tell him that some of these imbeciles got this lovestruck immediately just by taking one glimpse at you? You would sound absolutely insane to him if you have chosen to tell him none of them, absolutely none of them are interested in you in any way- Especially those dumbass bourgeois blondies.

Jesus fuck, what type of luck is that? Having all these morons be so interested in impressing you by winning a prize for you? Sounds dumb to him, but still, if winning it's what takes to make these fools stop daydreaming about you then so be it. It's not that he really wants to impress you by giving the prize he won, he just wants to see the twins cry after noticing the cruel reality that they don't have you- Or that they can't get everything that they want, that could work too-

Jack is sure to seem calm and unbothered throughout the entire event, trying to sound happy that he won, and trying even harder to not make the laugh in the face of the rest of the competitors. But honestly, he wasn't expecting the prize to be so…. convenient? Really? A place where he can take you to be all alone with him while enjoying such a joyful season?? Yes, he'll gladly take it and make sure to shove in everyone's faces, not literally, but clear enough for everyone to get the message.

Although he is happy for his win, he doesn't really know what to do from there- The fact was starting to settle in when he rethought over and over again about the trip. Somewhere all alone with you, sounds really, well, like a dream, like a fantasy, unrealistic.

Jack will do what he does best, fake that he is calm while hiding the fact he is panicking at the thought of being this close to you. Again, he doesn't want you to know how much he wished for this. Whenever he acts like he doesn't care at all, he at least hopes you know you do mean a lot to him.

🍈A.I (non-binary/gender neutral)👾

→Yuma Soma:

Yuma was focused on winning the moment they entered the competition, however they didn't know what the prize would be until they actually won it. They were more interested in the competition aspect of this event than what they would gain with it, yet when hearing what the prize would be they were, well, confused-

What is so special about this whole "free vacation"? A cabin in the middle of the woods with nothing but snow? Pff- As if snow is even that cool for them to want to see it! Yeah, they know what snow is….. 100%...... yeaaaaaah.

Okay fine, they don't really know what it is. I mean- Sure they know the definition of it, and they have seen a bit of it in their game, although they bet that what they have seen isn't half like the real deal.

It may seem silly, but maybe this trip could be a great opportunity for them to be able to see it and feel it for the first time with you by their side. With you trapped inside the game or not.

Don't be so mean boo, they promise they'll behave this time! The biggest gift you can give them it's the wonderful time you two will share, then again, it's not like you can really do anything against it, right?

🍬Kitsune🦊

→Tatsumi:

To be honest, Tatsumi isn't one for entering these types of competitions unless the price is truly worth it. Money would be the first thing in his list of priorities, yet the idea of going into vacation on the holidays doesn't sound half as bad, ya know?

While walking around the city plaza with you, you two noticed the event happening and decided to take a look.

He wanted to try it out because it sounded fun, yet to actually win?? This feels amazing yet somewhat inappropriate to him, he didn't really consider the possibility of winning, that it almost feels like he would be taking something that he doesn't deserve.

And as he struggles to come out with any excuse as to why he can't take the prize, even though he could take it and give it to any of his friends, you decided to intervene and take the prize for him.

You already knew how Tatsumi felt about himself, you didn't know exactly what led to it but you did know about his constant breakdowns whenever he thought no one was looking. He did tell you about some of his issues but whenever he could he would fake it as being something dumb that you shouldn't worry about, but come on- You already know that is bullshit.

Tatsumi would feel better knowing you're coming with him, but he would still feel awkward knowing it's just the two of you, and it's not like he won't receive thousands of messages from all of his friends calling him out for not inviting any of them. It's not like they had anything against you, they just really liked messing with him over his massive crush over a you-

He may be a little sneaky perv bastard, but come on now- You know he will treat you right while you two are there, honestly he just wants to enjoy some change of scenery with his favorite person.

🍰CEO📏

→Ingrid Bright:

First things first, Ingrid is a serious woman owner of the biggest business empire in the country- Do you really think she has time for things like that? Cause either way, even if she lost, she could have- Built a winter resort just for herself if she wanted to go there so badly.

But who knows, maybe she found something charming about winning the competition and sharing the prize with you, it's… A bit more charming than her just bringing you to a place she paid for. Something about the novelty of winning something for you sounds really appealing, maybe even worth the trial and error, and again she doesn't really need it, so there isn't any harm in trying.

Although let's be honest, there is a slight possibility that the game was rigged to her favour considering her own status against the various competitors. What? It's not like she is aware of it, if anything she is just as clueless as every other person competing.

She probably does need some rest from the same boring office that she has to work in everyday, and bringing you with her may be the best part of it all! What do you say? Want to get some rest far away from the company?

Well, maybe not completely far away, considering she is your boss… But, maybe if Ms. Bright gets to relax for a while, she'll eventually soften up. You won't be in an awkward trip with your boss anymore, you'll be on a surprisingly nice vacation with a person you knew for a while but only got to truly know recently. She really hopes you don't see her as just your boss...

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[bitch-its-me-alv]

Rose Gold Days Pt3

@crystalangelluna @k-poplunardreams @iwritelikeimrunningoutoftime @lilypos03

Pt2  Pt4

Dick was having a good night on patrol, it was a quiet night, maybe with two or three simple thieves that he handed over to the police without much fuss.

His mother was visiting that week, having found an important clue to the terrorist Hawkmoth's reasoning, she stayed at the mansion while the bats computer accelerate the investigation. The protective spells his mother always put on him were doing their thing under the keblar suit and all the latest generation armor.

With his father it was the same, awkward demonstrations of love and many fun workouts. The highlight of his life recently was when Bruce told him that he was proud of him.

It had been a few weeks ago, Mari was out of town, so Nightwing and Batman had gone on patrol together. Bruce always stayed on the roofs of buildings, running and using the hook simply for the widest jumps. But Dick liked to swing, pirouette on the air and land theatrically, a part of the circus boy would never come out of him.

Batman could see that, and he simply allowed him to do his tricks while probing the streets.

After stopping a gunfight in the middle of the street, batman and nightwing were back in the cave. With dick chattering about his possible occupation as a cop when he grew up. In the middle of talking about how much he wanted to help civilians inside and outside the suit, his father interrupted him with:

 “i'm proud of you son”

To simply ruffle his hair and continue the routine after the patrol. Dick froze in the middle of the batcave garage until Alfred asked him if everything was okay.

That night, by video call Marinette saw her son with the biggest smile of all, while talking to her about his plan to become a police officer. He hadn't even taken off his suit when the call ended a few hours later.

When nightwing entered the batcave thinking about the family's plans for the night, he certainly didn't expect to see a dirty and beaten 9-year-old boy next to his parents.

He seemed to be nervous, scared, and angry, looking at batman and ladybird as if they were going to bite him. As soon as he fully examine him, nightwing got excited

“Do you guys got me a baby brother?!”

Everyone in the cave got nervous. Batman put a hand between the boy and his son, fearing that Nightwing would get too close to Jason, or Jason would try to hit him.

Ladybird tried not to show too excited at the prospect of her beloved Nightwing with a little brother.

And Jason was just trying not to collapse on the ground, definitely stealing the Batmobile's tires was not a very good idea, now he would die in the hands of the vigilantes, what a way to die for an orphan.

“Nightwing sweetheart, we are going to talk to Jason here. Please wait up stairs.”

Nightwing didn't argue, he could spy on them perfectly on his trapezium in the hidden room. The echo in the Batcave was impressive.

He began to think what kinds of activities they could do if they started being siblings. Would they allow him to be vigilant? Would he go to school with him? 

Was it a requirement to be a black-haired boy with blue eyes to be adopted? Why did Mari and Bruce want to keep those traits on the line?

Nightwing was so focused on his thoughts that he didn't really hear anything they were saying until his father entered the room.

"Nightwing come down for a moment, we need to talk. Nothing serious, I just want to know what you think about it." Batman spoke. Nightwing only took a few somersaults to hit the ground.

Batman took a few seconds in silence to admire his son's abilities. Although Mari also did gymnastics and stunts, he was still disturbed and impressed by the movements of Ladybird and Nightwing.

"So ... Jason ... He ..." Batman couldn't find a proper way to start.

"Will you guys do it my little brother? Can we play on the trapezoids together? Will we go to school together? Say yes, pleaaaaaaaase.“ Nightwing grabbed his cape by the shoulders, in a futile attempt to shake him. Just managing to hang up on Batman… he still wasn't very tall to say.

Batman visibly deflated, relieved that his son took the idea of having a brother well. Of course he didn't expect any backlash, they were talking about Nightwing / Richard, a teenager who was all charisma, smiles, and justice.

Batman carefully dropped the vigilante. "So if so, we should go with Mari and Jason. Remember that he is new to this situation, it is understandable that he is nervous, if he wants to tell you where he comes from it will be his decision.”

"I'm not ten years old anymore batsy, I can manage to meet my little brother without problems."

"We'll see"

Ladybird put a hand gently on his shoulder.

"You can reconcide your answer if you're not sure Jason. We don't want to pressure you into anything, we just want you to be better"

Jason hugged his legs sitting in the main computer chair. "As long as I have food and a roof everything is fine, ladybird" His eyes were opaque, tired of life on the streets for a child.

Ladybird felt her chest clench a little more. "Jason, honey. We want you to join our family. Not only are you an act of charity, you may not feel comfortable with many things, but we want you to be well above all things.

Jason relaxed, but not quite. Ladybird knew it would take time. He was not like Dick, who upon arrival needed hugs and conversations about his nightmares.

Jason was a little more battered by life, neglect and general evil in Gotham, but he was still a child who needed guidance and love.

She was sure he and Dick would connect very well.

*Seven days after Jason´s arrival*

Jason was still insecure around adults, but he instantly became attached to Dick, much to his delight.

Despite his trademark smile, and the constant comforting touches that Jason was not used to. It was great to have an older brother, and a house, food, and real parents ...

He was fortunate that it was winter break, so Dick spent the whole day showing him around the mansion, and telling him anecdotes about his life at the mansion and before the Dupain-Cheng Wayne adopted him.

As for Bruce and Marinette, they were patiently waiting for Jason to get used to it.

They had both agreed that raising another child was going to be difficult. But they already had some experience, Bruce was in his best mental and emotional space, and Marinette had better control of the terrorist situation in Paris along with more experience in motherhood.

The rules about becoming a vigilante or hero were in place.

Bruce worked on his communication, and Marinette lessened her maternal paranoia.

*Two months after Jason´s arrival*

As soon as Jason settled in with Bruce and Mari, Dick had the brilliant idea to take another family photo, after all they now had a new member.

Jason began to express himself smoothly, showing a special interest in weapons and books.

Perhaps in another family things would have become complicated with his interests. But Bruce was a spoiling father with Marinette backing him up.

So the library of the mansion was very well dusted, three more shelves with different books were added. The Batcave's armory expanded, and Mari quickly put her protection spells on Jason, as soon as he began practicing under their supervision.

During free afternoons, Jason would be in Bruce's office, reading by his side while Bruce worked on the paperwork.

Other days he would be with Dick playing video games or sharing a mystery series in the projection room or in his own rooms.

And he would also meet Mari in the gardens, lying in a hammock while Mari sang for him and worked on his sketches. Or in the second kitchen, with Dick and him waiting to try the desserts she made first.

As family activities there will always be meals, movie nights, outings, and training.

Jason had already decided that he also wanted to be on the vigilante job. Motivated by his time on the streets, and decided to protect the children who suffered like him, but did not have the same luck.

When he saw that the painting on the main stairs had been changed, for the family portrait in which he had posed. He felt something warm in his chest, an inexplicable sensation that made his eyes water.

Twelve-year-old Jason Dupain-Cheng Wayne Todd was very happy with his family.

School sucked, but Mari and Bruce were always on the lookout for him. He was very good in his fighting classes, handling weapons and in parkour.

He didn't have many civilian friends, but the Titans and Roy were everything Jason wanted.

Dick was starting his police training, so he wasn't in the mansion all the time now, but he had no plans to walk away while Jason was still at school.

His mother had given Dick the miraculous dog, his kwami Barkk, always accompanied him, even in his new training.

Jason had been handed the Miraculous Ox, with his Kwami Stompp when he had earned his right to be on the field.

Red Hood appeared in support of Batman despite Marinette's concerns.

Batman did not want magic in the vigilantes, and his family could respect that. But it was not an impediment for the kwamis to be active.

Bruce was very pleased with the development of his second son on patrol. And Jason was more than happy to swing between buildings and hit thieves.

Things were calm and happy, the Dupain-Cheng Wayne family happily unaware of a certain ten-year-old stalker who was watching his hero, Batman, Nightwing and Ladybird closely.

Yeah… Jason literally wouldn't know what hit him next time.

Certainly meeting your new brother kidnapping him wasn't a good start. But no one would say that to Timothy Jackson Drake, so it will be quite a show.

[lizacstuff]

i'd love (if you'd like ofc) to hear your thoughts on episode 20 as a whole! i personally really really enjoyed it.. it had some very good moments not only between edser but between serkan and his dad and selin. and of course were serving that angsty, but flirty, UST that we all love! it felt like a weight was lifted off serkan and he just became even more open with her, if that makes sense? what he says to her about leaving in the latest fragman kinda shows that too.

Are you sure you want my full thoughts? Because I'm about to get long winded, like novel long winded, lol. To start off, on a superficial note, can I say that casually dressed, brooding Serkan was pretty hot? Hello, Sailor! Can we see you in pullovers and hoodies and T-shirts more often? But just happier? He was soooo sad in the opening scenes, and honestly, when you think about it, it's pretty dark that he was so messed up that he didn't leave the house or attend to any business matters for those couple of days. Very unlike him, but he's probably never been at this depth of despair before. Now, since pretty much everyone knows he wasn't leaving the house while Eda was gone, I hope someone (cough Melo cough) tells Eda, she should know that. On a similar note, Eda's friendship with the girls is so lovely. They're indeed her family. Interesting juxtaposition that she took refuge with her friends, while Serkan holed up and stayed away from everyone who cares about him. 

I agree that once we got past the dark brooding and he had the talk with his mom about how if Eda was punishing him there was still hope, he was a lot lighter. I think finally being out from under the secret did him a world of good. He can finally stop pretending to be indifferent and can just be honest about how he feels.  What the “Gitme” line in the fragman tells me, is that he’s ready to put it all out there. He’s not going to risk miscommunications or hurt feelings anymore. Which is amazing and should lead to great things in the next couple of episodes.

More under the cut (a lot more):

I absolutely agree about the scenes between Serkan and his dad and Serkan and Selin. The writing was really terrific and Kerem just knocked both of those scenes out of the park. Serkan's suppressed fury was palpable, and it was extremely cathartic to finally watch him let loose on both of them. The scene with his father went deeper in the family trauma and it was so interesting to hear Serkan say outright to both of them that the reason he moved onto the property was because Aydan couldn't leave and his dad was never there, and was never there for him as a father at all. Which we saw from the beginning when Alpteken was actually at the house but refused to attend his son's engagement party. Regardless of the fact that Serkan sprung Eda on them, not walking 50 feet to make an appearance at your son's engagement party is an asshole move. I wonder how long he's been cheating on Aydan? Years? It's interesting how she foreshadowed that revelation to Ayfer, like she knew.

Also I can't believe he was just cavorting around a luxury hotel in Istanbul. The whole Bolat family are obviously figures in the upscale social scene, anyone who knew Aydan or Serkan could have easily spotted him with that woman and gleefully spread the gossip back. Did he want to get caught? Jerkoff.

As for Selin, we been waitin' for that explosion since she sold her shares without telling Serkan!  I like that Serkan was kind to her after Ferit left her at the altar, it spoke to him taking responsibility for the part he played in trying to manipulate her out of that relationship. However, she took advantage of the new, kinder Serkan (the one that exists courtesy of Eda) and went way too far into unstable territory. I, and many other people, were so confused about why Selin was so angry about uncovering the truth of the accident, like what right did she have to be that angry over it, to stomp over to his house, barge in uninvited and accuse him of being a liar at top decibel levels? Thank goodness the writing acknowledged that it was not her place, and that was the thing that enraged Serkan. They actually allowed him to say, "How dare you come to my house, and I don't owe you any explanations." Also, I'm glad he laid out his feelings for Eda, and his lack of feelings for her. Look... that is rough. Hearing from an ex that they never loved you.  But how she could have been in any doubt, after seeing the changes in him since Eda is beyond my comprehension. She even said early on, It's like there's two Serkans, the one before you met Eda, and the one after. For whatever reason it's like she thought Eda could come in and affect him, and then she could step in and get the Serkan who was in love with Eda, not the rigid, cold one who was in a relationship of convenience with her.  DELUSIONAL.

There was so much more about this episode I loved. It was nice to see Ayfer blossoming in her new business and getting a glimpse of Fifi's past. She comes from a society family, does she? I liked that Ferit helped them. I do agree that impressing Ceren was probably on his mind, but I like to think he's also just a nice man and he likes Ayfer and wanted to genuinely help as well. Interesting that we found out that Ferit's mom never liked Selin. Curious since you'd think she'd look great on paper, perhaps it was because of the speed at which they were moving, and I think she also stood them up, right? That made me like Ferit's mom a bit more than I otherwise would have. 

Aydan was in her element getting back to her charity work, I loved the way she plotted to put her name forward for the leadership position. She's just so savvy. That's why I'm glad she's now TeamEda!  Imagine what a formidable duo Eda and Adyan will make in this world, we saw a glimpse of it last week, but they'll be unstoppable! 

The contract was a neat device. I really appreciate how it was used. One of the things that Eda feels like she can't trust is the way Serkan has tried to control her. As I've said before, I think he's really trying to control the situation. And while that doesn't really make a difference to Eda in this instance, it does make a difference to me as a viewer. If he were being controlling in the sense of trying to dictate what she says or who she is, that would be upsetting. But that's not it, he really loves her for who she is already and he's not trying to change that, he's just, as I said, trying to control the situation. We know that he likes to think everything through and always has a plan and in this instance he was just trying to protect her, but she's right that he can't do that in a relationship. Proving to her that he can cede control is important and that's exactly what the contract did. We saw him do it willingly and blindly and it was actually really beautiful. Obviously, the Serkan apology to Erdem was hilarious, but more than how much I enjoyed how funny it was, I enjoyed how delighted Eda was by it. She loved every minute of it and it was so nice to see her relax a minute and genuinely laugh both at and with Serkan. Additionally, I think she was pretty surprised that he'd followed through with it. Lots of layers to that scene.  

The charity meeting he engineered was also pretty fun to watch. I loved how he calls Engin in to join them with no prep and then just expects Engin to reel off a bunch of good ideas for the girls education initiative. Good times. And Leyla rushing in to let him know that Melo had quit was hilarious, I love that Serkan was like "the whole situation is right here" meaning that Eda was in the room so whatever Leyla had to tell him could not possibly be important. Only Eda is important! LOL. Then Serkan doesn't even think before looping Engin in to go immediately hire Melo. You know what I hope this means!? That my crackship Mengin might actually sail!!!!  LET'S DO THIS MENGIN!!!!  Oh... I know, the show seems really committed to the mismatched duo of Engin/Peril, but I really think Engin and Melo are better suited to one another. And now maybe they'll get scenes together. Piril can dump him for being too... him, and Melo can help him pick up the pieces. They would be Serkan and Eda's big-hearted, teddybear couple friends!  

Watching Eda blossom creatively and professionally while working with Serkan has been a joy. She doesn't stand in awe of him at all as a person, but she does a little professionally, and it's wonderful to see how no matter how angry she is with him or where they are in their relationship she always craves his feedback, takes in his critiques and suggestions, and basks in his praise. While she didn't want his help with her schoolwork, I can't help but wonder if he ever comes up at school. I mean she's in the tabloids with him, and since he's extremely relevant to the field of study, and specifically to that school since he built the library, do her classmates ask her about him? Or does she mention something she did or learned working at ArtLife while in class? Inquiring minds want to know.

As for Eda's resolve to keep things professional, that pretty much was DOA. She definitely challenged him to break the contract there in that room, and I think she actually wanted him to do it, though I’m not sure how she would have reacted. she wants him, but she wasn’t there yet. She knows resistance is futile, deep down she recognizes her own feelings and his and knows they'll never stay away from one another and it's only a matter-of-time, but I think she needs this. She needs for him to understand what it means to be in a relationship, she needs him to know that he can't make decisions without her, and she needs to be sure he's ready to be a partner. Thankfully, he made a lot of headway in demonstrating all of those things in this episode. He signed without reading, he was willing to do anything and everything she asked, and while he's still him (asking Leyla for intel) he respected her wishes while still being there for her in a real way throughout the episode.  

Poor Eda fainting, but it's really romantic that he's always there to catch her. I assume this narcolepsy or whatever it is, like her claustrophobia, is related to the trauma around the retaining wall collapse and her parents' death. It was sweet the way he convinced her to let him be there when she met the contractor, and then during the confrontation he didn't intervene, he let Eda say what she needed to say and was there to move the guy along when it was time. He was pretty much perfect. I know we all NEEDED him to hug her, both Eda and Serkan NEEDED it as well, but she wasn't ready to ask for him yet and he was smart enough not to push it. But the loooooooooonging. 

It's a small detail that she asked him to deal with the paps and he went home and set about doing just that. Hopefully whatever he was doing will lead to the revelation that Selin is the one who planted the story in the first place. I need that, we all need that. And just when you think it's too late at night, he does their "thing" and shows up at her place with Sirius. So dang sweet. I like that he was respecting her pretense about colleagues while at the same time just outright saying, "I'm worried about you. Are you okay?"

The next day's car ride left me in a puddle. Serkan just out there telling her that he would do anything for her. But he didn't push it on her, he waited until she asked. He did a great job of pacing himself through the episode. I find it so romantic that she told him that he couldn't watch her speech. If they were together and settled and happy, I'd think she'd want him front row, center, but in their current state he just affects her too much. She'd be focused on him, worried about what he thought, distracted by him, he just sends her mind whiring and her pulse racing.

Though, it's pretty telling and super sweet that the first thing she wants to know when he approaches her afterward is what he thought of the speech. Oh, Eda, you're not fooling anyone. His opinion is most important to you, pretty much in all things. This scene gives us something that rarely happens, Engin being tone deaf and not reading the room!! WTF was wrong with him? Interrupting like that? Dude knows that Serkan is in a situation here, you don't interrupt for really no reason like that! Get your head in the game, son! Your his wingman, you help, not hinder!

The way Eda blushed and looked pleased every time he complimented her this episode was something else. She's trying to keep emotional distance, and he's breaking the rules when he does it, but still it makes her day. She's never portrayed as a vain character, at all, so it's just so sweet how his words and his compliments affect her. No one else can make her feel like that. 

Serkan was pretty sly in making his case as well. He gets her a bit mushy telling her she lights up the room and then brings up her speech and how it might apply to him. He was right in that she probably hasn't considered things from his perspective. How devastating it must have been for him to learn the truth. I want her to go back and piece together the timeline. She knew something wasn't right with him at the mall when she gave him the robot. Maybe it will help her deal with this if she realizes he had just learned the secret. She knew there was more to the story with the cut on his hand. Knowing he was so upset he put his hand through a coffee table might give her some perspective on his state of mind and why he acted the way he did.  But mostly I want him to tell her he overheard her conversation with Ceren. I think it's important for them both to confront how things unraveled if only to help prevent future miscommunications. 

Poor Eda having a good time using her powers of persuasion to tease Serkan into helping his mother only to find out that she had convinced him to auction himself off for a dinner date! I enjoyed her momentary discomfort at that. Welcome back, jealousy. Strictly work colleagues do not get jealous when one goes out to dinner with someone else, just saying, Eda.  And that smooth bastard bid on himself so he could go out with her only. We should have known! 

The conversation prior to the runway show was priceless, Eda's animosity and reserve sort of disappear and she's just unsure enough of what she's about to do that his reassurances are exactly what she needs.  And how Kerem Bursin can blush on demand, I don't know, but Serkan be red during that conversation, lol. 

I really loved all of Serkan's reactions as the ladies walked the runway. For Selin he was stone-faced and bored looking, for Fifi he gave a sly smirk as she passed as an acknowledgement of how different, and nice, she looked all cleaned up, Melo got the huge grin, we didn't really see Ceren since the camera was stuck on Ferit, but for Piril he gave her the fond, encouraging smile like he was proud of his friend. And then Eda. I don't even know what word to use for it. Enraptured? Dumsquizzled? Fuckstruck? Yes, let's go with fuckstruck. I'm not sure he remembered to breathe while she was walking, he was so affected by her.  This boy has it bad for this girl, ya'll. 

After that, the end was a punch in the gut. Our poor babies have been through so much, they really deserved to have that nice dinner.  Damn you, Selin! Obviously this was a delaying tactic, because once they sat down to dinner, you know they would have worked it out, so we wait. But the reconciliation is coming, don't you worry. I'm feeling it within the next 2 episodes for sure. 

[johnkrrasinski]

𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐞

Chapter 4: Leaving Out the Side Door

full masterlist // series masterlist // commission open // support my work

Pairings: Dark!Steve Rogers (in future chapters) x Reader

Word Count: 2,325

Summary: Steve Rogers; a Hollywood A-lister and your clandestine occasional hookup. Best friends since childhood, but people change and friendships fall out. Now you were merely strangers with benefits. What happens when one day you stopped being his doormat to be a better man’s queen? The selfish Steve Rogers would not like it. How far is he willing to go to get his favorite possession back?

Warnings: smut, non-con/dub-con, dark Steve (in later chapter), angst, Steve Rogers is an asshole in this one, no redeeming qualities. (MUST BE 18+)

A/N: this series is dedicated to the lovely @belovedcherry​​​ who commissioned this story and developed the concept. thank you for being a friend when i truly needed it. i’m really glad that you trusted me to write this story for you. with all my heart, i sincerely hope you like it. this series will be updated every day.

You were on your knees with your hands tied behind your back as he vigorously thrust into you. Your heartbeat pounded in your rib cage and you began to feel numb from the hours he had fucked you. Steve was relentless when he was chasing his own climax, greedily used you as a tool; giving zero fucks about your pleasure or your discomfort, to dump his load in.

Steve didn’t need to see your face or hear your consent. He could go on and on for hours and still not feel satisfied. One thing that you had learned from this being in this dead-end friends with benefits thing with Steve Rogers is that his stamina was relentless. And he wouldn’t think twice about getting what he needed whenever he needed it.

Steve impaled you as your face was squeezed into the pillow, you could hear the squelching noises from the ceaseless cycle of disposing his semen in you and then pushed it back in when he was ready for the next round. Your head began to feel dizzy and your visions turned hazy. You’d tell him to stop because you couldn’t take it anymore, but you knew you didn’t have any strength left in your body to do so.

So you ascended from your body and let him take the wheel; allowing him to go as fast as he wished. He kept hammering until he felt your cunt clenching around him and his cock pulsated, then the line blurred as the coil inside you burst, withering every nerve in your body.

“Ah, fuck.” He grunted. He stayed still inside you until he felt himself softening and then he retreated.

Steve unbound your wrists and he threw himself on the other side of the bed. You knew better than turning to his side and cuddle on his chest unwarranted. He always expected you to get up and get out of his house instantly because he either had another place to attend and didn’t want to see you still here when he comes home or he was ready for another hookup.

Every now and then, you’d let him use you to fulfil his needs and you’d volunteer in cleaning his apartment afterwards. Even after those countless nights where you weren’t the one who made a mess of his sheets.

Ever since that night in your dorm; the first time you were reborn into a blossomed woman and the first time Steve paved the way of traversing to the electric piquancy of venereal act for you, you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t stop letting him through your door or drive to his place at three in the morning just so he could let off some steam.

Every time you try to say no, he’d always pay you a visit unannounced. He’d paralyze you with his words and freeze you with his unchaste touches. “Shh, let me make you feel good, baby. You just gotta surrender yourself to me.”

You’d try to push him away but your brittle tenacity was unavailing. Fast forward to five years later, when you finally got your degree and life vagabondized to unexpected places, your sex life was still staying still in one spot.

You were recruited by National Institute of Mental Health as their project manager. You were possibly the youngest candidate to occupy this position but they were very impressed by your resume and your interview that they didn’t have any better choice than giving you the job.

You loved it, you excelled at what you do. Helping people and tending for their mental health was the aim of your life. You had a clear vision of how you were going to initiate a concept, plan a strategy and execute the plan. You respected your colleagues and vice versa. It was a suitable environment for you to work in and you enjoyed every minute of it.

Your best friend aka your former roommate, Natasha was your rock. You still talked to her everyday and she’d always text you in case she couldn’t call. You’d exchange stories about how your days went and she’d always send you pictures or videos of her adorable cat, Liho. It always carved a smile on your face.

The same goes for Wanda, although with her busy schedule of graduate school and supervised experience made things a little difficult for you to stay in touch, she still updated every nugatory detail of her life. You loved her and you missed her excruciatingly. You had driven to New Haven during some weekends to see her and spend time with her, but when the weekend was over, you had to return to New York because your job was waiting for you.

They were your two most endeared girls and you couldn’t wait for the day you finally introduce them to each other. Natasha and Wanda had said hi to each other a few times back when you were still living in the same dorm but, you really wanted to spend time with the two of them at the same time. They would totally click.

But if anyone asks you about your love life? Well, how could you explain something that was nonexistent?

Unless “friends” with benefit counts for something…

A bell on your apartment dinged and you reached for the door. A man in black with purple nuances uniform showed up with a package in his hands. “Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Here’s your delivery. Sign here please.” He handed you a piece of paper to draw your signature on and you accepted it without question, knowing full well it was another extravagant gift from Steve. Yep, that Steve.

The Steve Rogers.

A Brooklyn-born movie star of various blockbuster films, a remarkable singer and the face of Calvin Klein’s campaign this year… and Gucci Guilty’s last year.

The notorious womanizer but it was all good because he was the man. When you had starred alongside Leonardo DiCaprio and posed next to Oprah, who would give a shit if you never stopped playing the field, right?

And because he was The Steve Rogers, he could’ve spent his money on any lavish item and he could’ve put his dick wherever he wanted it. That included you, being the object of his wealthiness and his manliness.

How many times had you tried to reason with him when he constrained you to come over after a drunken hookup with a twenty-something model to clean up the mess and take out the trash? Perhaps just a few numbers exceeding the number of times he’d play the most charming man in the world only to forget your existence until he wanted you again.

So your feet innately transported you to your car, wearing the brand-new crimson red, bodycon dress with deep V-neck that displayed your cleavage, spaghetti straps baring your arms and a backless design that made you shiver due to the crisp air and drove to a place you had grown so accustomed to.

And this was the God knows how many times you were corrupted on his bed again. You had been so busy with your upcoming project that NIMH was ready to announce but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to resist the urge to come over to his place.

You stood on your wobbly feet, cleaned yourself up and see yourself out. Wouldn’t want to keep another mistress waiting in line…

Three weeks have passed since you last slept with Steve Rogers. Whispers on the streets chirped that he had been occupied with shooting a new film, erotic thriller slash mystery genre. Seems appropriate.

You yourself had been snowed under your work. The fundraiser event that NIMH was holding had been wearing you down but it was all worth it when the show was on. Negotiating with sponsorships, seeking donations and managing ticket sales were not easy, and it was all part of your responsibility because you were the boss, but you aced it anyway.

You were also responsible to hire professional entertainers and well, knowing that you got some connections to a well-known actor, of course, he was the first name on your list. But due to schedule conflicts, he couldn’t make it. It wasn’t a problem though, you still had a long list of names; film stars, movie producers, musicians, directors, moguls, etc.

You stood in your black sequin dress at the corner of the venue, inhaling all the sedulity and gumption you had invested in this event for the past couple of months. A part of you was secretly hoping that Steve would be here to see it, but you quickly eliminated those thoughts away.

9th-grade summer break. Upon the verdant hills overlooking the tranquil lake below; the moon’s faint glow ricochets on the water.

“What do you wanna be when you grow up, y/n?” his head reclined on his the palms of his hand, arms sprawled out like a butterfly’s wings.

“I wanna… Help people. My mom is a nurse and my whole life I watched her taking care of people she’d never met and I wanna have her big heart. I wanna do something that saves people.” you beheld the twinkling stars in the crepuscular sky, privily prayed that every word would come true.  

“You wanna be a nurse like her too?” His eyebrow raised.

“I don’t know… Maybe I’ll host a charity event or something and then I’ll use all the money for those who need it. It looks cool in the movies.”

“When I make it, I’ll come to your event and help raise the money too! People would be interested in giving money to celebrities, right?” the credence glinted in his eyes.

“But the money will not be for you, doofus.”

“Yeah, I know!” he chided. “I wouldn’t take a single cent even if I could. My mom taught me that if I were given the chance to put others first before me… I should and I will respect her legacy.”

You watched the host and your project leader, Tony Stark stood behind the acrylic podium and he greeted the crowd a good evening. He opened his speech, cajoling the guests with his words to share a little bit of their wealth as many as possible and closed it with a cordial adieu.

You made your way to one of the most respected guests; Benjamin Woods was sitting on the fifth table. Two times Oscar nominee and you were jittery to talk to him, but in this line of work, you were trained to be confident and act like one of the elites. So you weren’t going to freak out like an obsessive fan, you gotta keep it cool and classy. Plus, during the briefing, you were told to fraternize with as many of the guest as possible, persuade them to help us reach the goal.

You had your eyes set on the target until you bumped on a six-foot man, spilling the martini in his hand all over your dress. It caused a few heads turning but that was the last thing you cared about right now. “Shit!” you squawked.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry miss.” a British accent was hinted.

You grabbed a napkin from the nearest table to wipe away the stain but of course, it was futile. He offered a hand by saying “here, let me help.”

“No, no it’s fine, I’ll-” you looked up to see a handsome man with a pair of grey, slightly blue and green fused at the core. His dark brown hair matched the stubble covering his entire jaw and you were captivated by the work of art that was his face. Man, what a gorgeous creature. “…Manage.”

“I’m truly sorry, I must really stop reading through my emails while walking.”

“Don’t worry about it, sir. It happens.”

“Can I at least get you a drink? I’d feel really bad if I don’t do anything to compensate for my error.”

You averted your gaze from him to the person you really wanted to talk to but that could wait. You still got a few more hours to properly introduce yourself. “Yeah, why not?”

“Splendid.” You both walked toward the bar and sat on the stools. The next thing you knew, you had spent the last one hour talking and acquainting with this man. Apparently, he was the executive director of Filmmakers Without Borders where funding films and new media projects that aligned with themes of social justice, empowerment and cultural exchange was the prime focus of his job. He believed that if he could support ideas that would make the world a better place, he’d do it without a second thought.

He was also a big traveler. He loved seeing magical places in foreign countries, he was keen on exploring new cultures and learning new languages even if he could only recollect a few basic words. He claimed that he had traveled to nine countries in Asia and he planned to travel across Europe, his so-called home, once he had conquered the omnifarious continent.

And what enthralled your heart the most about him was that he was a proud father of two adorable dogs; a greyhound and a pomeranian and a benign Siberian cat. He spoke about them so fondly. He showed you pictures of them and he said that he’d love for you to meet them. Oh man, was that a subtle invitation to come over to his place soon in the future?

He was a real gentleman, courtesy and multifaceted were the proper words to describe this man, and you had only known him for one hour. Eventually, duty calls and you still had a role to play in this event, but before you could hop off the stool, he had asked you for your number and you gladly gave it to him. You had a feeling that this wasn’t farewell but rather, an incipience. The question is… What could it be of?