#Going to try to make earl grey tea as soon as I get home tomorrow bc this CANNOT continue

[himemeika]

Fuck my stupid baka life

[tennessoui]

would you be willing to go more indepth on the TA au first kiss scene?

i'd be willing to apparently really really really fucking in-depth with the TA au first kiss scene it turns out.

(3.1k, no porn but a lil raunchy there at the end)

This is not the first time Obi-Wan has been over to Anakin’s house. At the start of the semester, back in August, Professor Skywalker had invited all of his TAs to dinner, to introduce himself to them outside of the classroom.

This is different, though. Obi-Wan’s alone as he dismounts from his bicycle and stands it up against the garage door. No one else will join them tonight. Anakin had only asked him over.

If Obi-Wan thinks about that too much, he’s not going to be able to ring the doorbell.

He’s already late as it is, having changed multiple times since Anakin had texted him. What does one wear to the house of one’s professor who one desperately wants to fuck?

Lingerie, obviously. Check.

But on top of that?

He’d gone with a navy blue sweater over a simple t-shirt and jeans. Even still, when Anakin opens the door, he feels immediately overdressed. Anakin’s only wearing a black tank top and dark gray sweatpants that cinch at the ankle.

Alright. It’s official. Obi-Wan doesn’t think he’s going to survive the night.

“Obi, great!” Professor Skywalker exclaims, ushering him in and out of the cold November air. “I was worried you’d slipped on ice riding over here. It really is starting to get dangerous to bike in this sort of weather.” His tone becomes disapproving, something that absolutely doesn’t make Obi-Wan’s cock twitch in his pants. “I’ve seen your tires, they’re not up to the way it gets icy up here.”

Obi-Wan could say that he knows the weather better than Professor Skywalker, seeing as how he’s been a student at the same school for going on five years now, and Professor Skywalker still has partially-unpacked moving boxes sitting around his living room.

But what he says instead is, “Yes, Professor,” which makes Anakin freeze for a second before he hurries into motion again.

It’s interesting, is all.

“I told you to call me Anakin, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says sharply, turning away. Alright, yes. Obi-Wan’s body does react to that tone.

“Sorry, Professor,” Obi-Wan murmurs with a half-smile when he sees the way Anakin’s back stiffens for a second.

“You must think I have the patience of a saint,” Anakin mutters to himself. Louder, he says, “Shoes off and do you want some tea?”

Obi-Wan bends down to start untying his shoes, perking up at the mention of tea. “You have tea? I’ve never seen you drink tea on campus.”

“I have rooibos and earl grey,” Anakin shouts from the kitchen. Obi-Wan stands, shoeless, to follow him curiously, looking around the house as he goes. The entrance hallway opens up into the living room, which is sunken into the floor. There’s a dining room table a few feet from the couch, positioned next to a window looking into the kitchen.

There are still moving boxes scattered around, even though it’s already mid-November.

“Earl grey, thank you,” Obi-Wan says absently, still taking in Anakin’s home. Gently he lays his messenger bag on the table next to Anakin’s laptop and retrieves the papers he’s been invited over here to grade. When the kettle goes off, he peers through the window to watch Anakin assemble his cup. “Oh, that’s my favorite brand,” he says happily. Anakin flushes and busies himself putting away the apparently incriminating boxes of tea.

“What a coincidence,” Anakin replies, handing the cup to him through the window. Obi-Wan wraps his cold hands around the mug and allows the warmth to travel through his body. He’d forgotten his gloves, an idiotic move that can only be blamed on his nerves for the night.

But now that he’s here, he suddenly doesn’t feel quite so nervous anymore. It feels natural to sit with Anakin like this at his dining room table and grade their students’ work.

It feels right and scarily easy.

They get to work with little more chatter, as these papers are supposed to be handed back the next section class.

After one high score and two middling ones, Obi-Wan sets down his pen. “You still haven’t unpacked everything?” He says this observation like a question.

Anakin looks up at him from the paper in front of him and adjusts his glasses as he processes the words. “No, not really,” he agrees. “I never usually do, not until I find something that makes me want to stay in one place for a while.”

Obi-Wan’s hands tighten around his mug of tea. His voice comes out more strangled than he’d like. “You’re thinking of leaving?”

“It’s a temporary position, Obi,” Anakin says slowly, taking off his glasses and setting them down on the essay. “I’m renting this place from the school, but even then the lease is up in February.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t know what his heart is doing, but he doesn’t think he’s ever been in so much pain. Not to be dramatic or anything, but the thought of Anakin leaving as quickly as he’s blown into Obi-Wan’s life feels as if it can kill him.

“Oh,” is all he says. “Do you have a bathroom I can use?”

Minutes later, Obi-Wan is staring at himself in the mirror, hands gripping the sink. He’s still reeling from the very real possibility that Anakin will leave in a few short months. That he’ll go to some other college in some other city and make everyone fall in love with him there as well, and Obi-Wan will never find out what it feels like to kiss him because he’d been too scared of breaking the rules or being rejected to try.

Resolve forms in his mind. If Anakin is looking for a reason to stay, Obi-Wan will give him one.

But Obi-Wan’s never really set about seducing a professor before, is the problem. He doesn’t know what Anakin likes in his partners, and he doesn’t know if he even really likes Obi-Wan at all. There are hints sometimes, certainly, the way he’ll stare at him in class, the casual way he’ll touch his lower back when they’re walking somewhere, all of his behavior that night at the bar near Halloween.

But there’s a difference between feeling arousal and acting on it. And there’s an even bigger difference between wanting someone once in your bed for the night and wanting someone enough to stick around town for a few years while they finish school.

So it’s not even seducing Anakin that is real problem here. It’s keeping him interested afterwards. And Obi-Wan needs to start now, before the semester ends. If he waits until January, he won’t have enough time before Anakin’s lease is up. Hell, he doesn’t even have enough time now, not really. He’d probably need four months alone just to get Anakin to look at him with more than dark, considering eyes.

Alright. Alright.

He’ll start with coffee tomorrow morning. He’ll go out there and finish grading papers with Anakin, and then tomorrow before class begins, he’ll bring Anakin a cup of coffee. It’s a start.

Anakin’s made a fair amount of progress by the time Obi-Wan exits the bathroom-cum-war council room. “Alright?” The professor looks up with a small furrow between his eyebrows.

He’s so gorgeous Obi-Wan almost gives up right then and there, but he’s never been a quitter.

“Alright,” he agrees, picking up his mug and carrying it to the kitchen. He’ll just add some more water and a little bit more milk and get started on the rest of the papers. The sooner he finishes, the sooner he can go home and start planning. The thought makes him excited and nervous all at once.

He glances up through the kitchen window just in time to see Anakin lean back in his chair and stretch his arms so far up that his tank top rides up enough that his tummy--or, well, defined abdominal muscles as it were--flashes into view.

Which, of course, makes Obi-Wan’s life flash before his eyes. He trips and then promptly curses when he rights himself but half the tea spills out over his sweater.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin’s there immediately, as if he’s teleported from the table to the kitchen instead of gone around the normal way. “Are you alright? Are you burned?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Obi-Wan mutters, blushing furiously. His seduction of Anakin is never going to work if he keeps behaving like a clumsy idiot in front of the older man. “Just got on my sweater, it’s fine.”

Anakin’s hands grab at the hem of Obi-Wan’s sweater, and when he doesn’t protest, slowly drags it up and over his head, careful to keep the wet stain from his hair.

Obi-Wan’s breath catches in his throat at the look of intense concentration Anakin’s wearing, how dark his eyes are. It’s almost exactly what he wants, but it’s not enough because Anakin backs away quickly, sweater clutched in his hands. “I’ll get you one of mine,” he says gruffly, turning to leave the kitchen, but Obi-Wan stops him with a hand on his arm.

“It’s really fine, Anakin, I’m not cold.”

“You’re covered in goosebumps,” Anakin points out, laying his hand on Obi-Wan’s own arm.

Obi-Wan swallows and bites at his lip. “I’m not cold,” he promises. A part of him wants Anakin to hear what he’s not saying. A part of him is afraid he will.

But Anakin only nods jerkily once before exiting the kitchen and returning to his seat at the table. “You’ll tell me as soon as you feel so much as a slight chill,” he insists, picking up his glasses and resettling them on his face.

“Yes, Professor,” Obi-Wan murmurs as he sits down, just to watch Anakin’s jaw clench tightly for a second before relaxing.

They resume grading in silence, but this silence is tense. A different beast than the previous one.

Halfway through his sixth paper of the night, he furrows his eyebrows at a student’s paragraph. “Professor,” he says, standing and moving to lean over Anakin’s shoulder to show him the error. He places one of his hands delicately on Anakin’s skin, because he is a weak, weak man. “They’ve gotten this bit extremely wrong, but the paragraph after this one is basically the same thing but with the correct information. What, do you think it’s just an editing error?”

Anakin looks at the paper without saying anything.

Obi-Wan adjusts his position so he’s more leaning over next to him instead of behind him and points out the relevant sections. “Would you dock points, do you think?”

Anakin’s jaw bunches as his nostrils flare for several long seconds, before he seems to snap out of whatever had taken his mind away. “Take a few off, but for formatting not for content,” the professor decides.

Nodding in agreement, Obi-Wan stays where he is and makes a note in the margins. He looks up at Anakin when he feels his eyes rest heavily on him. “What?” he asks. “Do I have pen on my face?”

“Just haven’t seen you this dressed down before,” Anakin’s voice is incredibly low and the timbre of it makes a shiver run down Obi-Wan’s spine. “You’re always so buttoned-up in class.”

Obi-Wan wets his lips. Somehow the words that come out of his mouth are not ones he’s approved of saying. “That’s not true,” he says so quietly it’s almost a whisper. “I wouldn’t say I was buttoned-up at the bar.”

Anakin inhales sharply and he leans towards him with dark, dark eyes. “You were all dressed up then, weren’t you?” he murmurs. Obi-Wan can’t stop himself from swaying in Anakin’s direction, even if he wanted to.

Slowly, he nods, paper forgotten under his professor’s burning gaze.

“Do you still have it?” Anakin asks hoarsely. “I’ve been wondering what you did with that little dress for weeks now.”

“Didn’t keep it,” Obi-Wan replies honestly. His mouth dries incredibly fast when Anakin’s hand falls to his arm.

“You’ve got goosebumps again,” Anakin observes, rubbing a thumb over his skin. “Are you cold?”

“Not cold,” he whispers, moving closer than he’s ever dared. He’s terrified that if he speaks louder than he is now, the moment will be ruined. They’ll snap out of this, whatever this is, go back to grading papers, and then Obi-Wan will leave and tomorrow morning he’ll buy Anakin coffee and try to make himself come across as the perfect life partner for his professor.

But he wants this so much. He thinks they’re standing on the edge of something that could very well be amazing.

Anakin’s opening his mouth to say something, but Obi-Wan cuts him off. He wouldn’t be able to hear it over his pounding heart anyway. “I kept the lingerie though,” he says. “Do you want to see them, Professor?”

For a second, those words and all they imply hang in the scant few inches between them.

Then, “Jesus fucking Christ, baby,” Anakin groans, sounding torn to shreds. He pushes his chair back so fast that Obi-Wan stumbles.

Anakin’s hands are there to catch him and pull him into his arms, mouth descending onto his.

Obi-Wan moans into the kiss immediately, wrapping his arms around Anakin’s neck and tugging their bodies as close together as he can get them, making helpless little noises he’s never made before in his life. Anakin’s not quiet either, not as his hands roam down from Obi-Wan’s waist to trace the outline of his ass before he grabs it and rocks them together. The pleasure skyrockets when their bulges grind against each other, and Obi-Wan has to break the kiss just to gasp for air.

Feeling brave and desired and hot, Obi-Wan grabs one of Anakin’s hands and slips it down the waistline of his pants, just far enough that he can feel the spread of lace over his skin.

“Baby,” Anakin groans again, rubbing his thumb over the cheap silk of the Halloween costume’s panties. “Baby, fuck.”

Obi-Wan pushes back into the hand, trying to convey how much Anakin really can fuck him, should he want. Obi-Wan wants.

Before he can say anything though, Anakin’s lips claim his again and his tongue fucks aggressively into his mouth. It feels so good, especially when Anakin scratches up the skin of his back gently with one hand. The touch has Obi-Wan turning pliant and weak in the knees, something Anakin must realize because he edges Obi-Wan closer and closer to the table before sweeping the contents off with one hand and lifting him up with the other.

He spreads his legs automatically and for a second everything is perfect when Anakin comes to stand between them, mouth biting searing kisses into his neck while Obi-Wan tries to keep rubbing their pelvises together. He throws his head back and to the side with a high moan, mouth falling open as he stares uncomprehendingly at the ceiling.

Does this mean he doesn’t have to buy Anakin coffee before class tomorrow?

The thought of school is like a bucket of ice water poured directly over his head. Almost frantically, he pushes at Anakin’s chest, trying to get space between them.

Anakin detaches himself from Obi-Wan’s skin with the utmost reluctance. His lips are red and wet.

But Obi-Wan needs to be responsible, and he’s currently sitting on his professor’s table, papers scattered on the floor around them. “Fuck, half of these weren’t stabled together,” he cries, hopping down and starting to pick up the students’ papers. “Shit, Professor--”

“You were just sucking on my tongue like a professional slut, Obi-Wan, I think you can call me Anakin,” Anakin bites out, working his jaw furiously as he watches him crawl around on all fours from above. The nerve of the man for causing the mess and not helping at all to clean it up!

Obi-Wan feels just petty enough that he pauses at one of the papers and arches his back, pushing his ass out and looking over his shoulder. “I thought you liked it when I called you professor, Professor,” he responds in what he hopes comes out sounding mostly sultry.

It seems to work if Anakin’s reaction is anything to go by. “Fucking hell, Obi-Wan,” the man snarls, but his sweatpants make the twitch of his cock impossible to miss.

“What a pair we make,” Obi-Wan says, just for the fun of torturing Anakin. “You’re not wearing any underwear and I’m wearing lingerie.”

He finishes with the papers and stands to stack them on the table.

“I think you should go,” Anakin grits out, watching Obi-Wan intently.

Obi-Wan’s heart stops for a second and he’s suddenly terrified he pushed too far, too fast, that Anakin hadn’t enjoyed the kiss, that he remembered he was too annoying to keep around, that--

“If you don’t go now, you’ll be spending the night in my bed, and I think we need to talk first,” his professor finishes gently, reaching out to rub his thumb over Obi-Wan’s lip.

Obi-Wan licks it immediately, and when no protest is made, brings it further into his mouth.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin sounds extremely pained.

Slowly, he drops his thumb from between his lips. There’s hardly a foot of space between them. It’s too far. It’s too close.

Anakin’s right. They do need to talk. And it shouldn’t happen tonight.

“Can I borrow a sweatshirt for the bike ride back?” he asks quietly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Only it’s cold outside and--”

And you smell really nice, he finishes in his head. Out loud, he says, “And I think I’d look good wearing something of yours, don’t you think, Professor?”

Anakin’s eyes narrow and his hands clench tightly into fists at his side. “I didn’t have you pegged as a brat.”

“You haven’t had me pegged at all yet,” Obi-Wan points out with a grin. As if magnetized, Anakin’s thumb comes up and digs into one of his dimples.

“I’ve wanted to lick these since the first time I saw you smile,” his professor whispers like they’re in a confessional.

It’s incredibly easy to reach out and trace one of the lines of Anakin’s octopus tattoo down his arm in return. “I’ve wanted to do the same with your tattoos for months now,” he admits. “Will you let me? After we talk? Will you let me put my mouth on you?”

His fingers dance across the front of Anakin’s sweats, before veering back up to more friendly territory.

Anakin’s eyes are dark with promise when he nods in response. “I’ll do more than let you, baby,” he growls. “I’ll put your mouth on me myself.”

Obi-Wan shivers.

No, he probably doesn’t need to buy Anakin coffee tomorrow before class.

But he probably will anyway. Just because the way Anakin’s looking at him makes him think the other man isn’t going to get much sleep tonight either, and it’s the least he can do.

[scrumptiouslittlesimp]

“At Least He’s Trying” Ciel Phantomhive x female reader

genre: Angst

word count: 1.2k words

pairing: Ciel Phantomhive x female reader

warning: none I don’t think

Summary: being in an arranged marriage with someone who you fell in love with sounds great doesn’t it? But in your case, your love was already in love with someone else, or was he. 

note: As I write this I’m still only at episode 12 of Black Butler so I’m kinda rolling with one and a half wheels here. Oh and in here you’re Ciel’s fiancee instead of Isabelle, but everything else is the same. 

Walking through the large halls of the mansion you had grown accustomed to, you hold the tray of earl grey tea, your fiancee’s favorite. The previous day you had requested Sebastian to teach you how to make tea that is up to Ciel’s standards. 

Sebastian complied, teaching you the technique he used elegantly, what did you expect from the butler of the Pahntomhive household? You knock on the door to his study, balancing the tray of tea on one hand, “Ciel, it’s me, can I come in?” 

There was no reply, only an eerie silence. Letting out a small disappointed sigh, you slowly open the door, “Ciel, I’m coming in.” As you open the door you saw the usual sight, him on his chair writing down whatever business he needed to tend to. You quietly place the tray of tea on his table and you pour him a cup.

“Here Ciel, take a break, I’m pretty sure you’ve been working all day,” placing a cup in front of him, you hope that maybe he would pay attention to you, but that was always your wish, and it never came true. 

He hums as he acknowledges your existence. You solemnly look down at your shoes, not even preparing his favorite tea would make him notice you. You gulp down the bile that was slowly rising up your throat and leave the door. "Alright, I'll head out now," you mumble quietly and Ciel nods. 

As you walk out the door Sebastian comes in, offering you a smile that you returned. Sebastian closed the door "my lord, maybe you should pay some attention to your fiancee," Sebastian says, striding towards his master's side. 

"Why should I, she's already my fiancee, there's no use in talking to her, she's already meant to marry me soon anyways," Ciel tells Sebastian, as he fills out the last of his papers. "She's been trying to get your attention for a while, my lord," Sebastian says, glancing at the tea you had prepared earlier, he hadn't even touched the glass.

"I don't need to pay her attention, there are more important matters, just because she's the daughter of another powerful household does not mean that I need to give her any special treatment," Ciel says with a strict voice, letting out a 'tch' sound as he finishes his sentence.

Sebastian lets out a sigh, 'my master is absolutely hopeless,' he thinks. 

The day passes and night comes. You enter your bedroom on the opposite side of Ciel's bedroom. You didn't sleep with Ciel as he said he still wanted to be alone and you complied, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. 

Entering the room, you switch out to your sleeping garments. As you sit down at your table to read a book before bed, you hear a loud carriage outside, “who would be coming to the manor at this hour?” you mumble quietly to yourself. 

Looking out the window, you see Isabelle come out of the carriage, her bright yellow hair shining in the moonlight. Your heart drops as you think about why she's here, the only reason she is here would be to meet Ciel. 

She always managed to capture his attention, she even managed to bring him to dance with her when he never even bothered to talk to you. You feel that familiar feeling of bile rising in your throat and your eyes starting to sting from the fresh tears that we're about to come out. To think that maybe he really was just going along with the arranged marriage just for the sake of it and not because he liked you pained you. If that were the case, you would much prefer him to deny going along with the arranged marriage.

Letting out a shaky sigh you close your book and put it back into the bookshelf, not feeling like staying awake anymore. As you climb up to your bed you can hear Isabelle's loud laugh and Ciel screaming after her. 

Closing your eyes as the last attempt to stop the wave of tears about to burst, you tried to fall asleep but the constant laughing and screaming that echoes around the manor kept you awake. Why did you have to fall in love with him? Why did he never pay attention to you? Was it because he was in love with Isabelle?

Ah… that's right, he was in love with Isabelle, of course, she was his childhood friend with whom he shared multiple fond memories with. Why would he want to be with you? Someone who just came into his life and he was told to marry.

Hugging a pillow to your chest, you let out your painful tears, sobbing to your heart’s content, it’s not like he’ll notice if you had puffed eyes tomorrow anyways. 

Sebastian watches you from the window, looking at you with pity in his eyes. He drops down to where his mater is. “My lord, maybe it’s best if you would check on lady y/n,” he says as he analyzes the current situation, trying to find a way to bring Isabelle home. 

“Why?” Ciel says, although his voice is as stable as ever, his eyes show a little hint of worry. Sebastian smiles, “Just go check on her my lord,” and he tells Isabelle that Ciel has to retreat and go to bed. After saying their goodbyes, Sebastian heads to his room while Ciel climbs up the stairs and stands in front of his fiancee’s bedroom door. 

As he stands in front of the door, he could hear little sobs coming from the other side. Giving out a little sigh, he opens the door. You sit up, your sobbing had ceased when he came in the room, turning into little sniffles. “H-Hi there Ciel, what are you doing here?” 

He frowns and walks to the side of the bed, and sitting down beside you. He awkwardly hugs you from the side and your heart warms to temperatures that could be hotter than the sun. “Stop crying, if your parents knew that you were crying in my manor then they would kill me,”

And with that statement, your heart drops. Right, he was only doing this for the sake of pleasing your parents. Closing your eyes, you laid down on the bed. Ciel gets out of your room and you sigh, great, you thought you were finally getting somewhere in the relationship but turns out you were wrong.

As your eyes start to close from fatigue, you hear the door opening. You open your eyes and wince at the bright light from the door but low and behold, it was Ciel. he takes off his eyepatch and lays down beside you, pulling you towards him. 

“What are you doing,” you mumble, too tired to resist. “Comforting you obviously, what else do you want,” he says, his voice still as rough and sharp as usual. Sighing, you relax into his arms. “Don’t you love Isabelle though? I’m pretty sure you would sacrifice me for her,” your voice rough like venom. 

Ciel stays quiet. “I’m trying,” he mumbles quietly. And that statement brings a small smile to your face, at least he was trying.

[amyscascadingtabs]

don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you [chapter 2]

CHAPTER TWO: see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night

excerpt below, read whole thing on ao3

Amy doesn't return to the office until after she's spent a good hour at home. First, she showers, washing off yesterday's old makeup and grime and letting the warm water run over her shoulders as she lets the sweet scent of raspberry shower gel replace the vague smell of old beer and sweat. Her back is sore; probably thanks to Jake's lumpy mattress, she thinks, and wonders for a second if she should add buy new mattress to the contract before deciding it’s far too much. That's relationship stuff, and that's point one of the contract; that's not what this is.

She blow-dries her hair and replaces her makeup, taking extra care to try and cover a pink mark that sits just a little too high on her chest before giving up and picking a different shirt instead. Then she fills the biggest coffee cup she has, eats a buttered slice of toast standing up, and feeds her pet fish before rushing back out the door.

She probably looks fresher than most days once she's done, but she's still worried Gina can sense something from her secretary desk as Amy walks in. She raises a brow in greeting like she's actually interested, which is rare in itself, and Amy can feel her eyes on her as she walks into her own office and closes the door behind her.

Amy starts regretting her decision as soon as she's opened a new document. What is she even supposed to name it? Friends with benefits contract is too obvious. FWB-C sounds like code for something. Sex agreement makes her sound like someone who’s read Fifty Shades Of Grey too many times (which really is just once). Jake and Amy is a wedding invitation, Rules too general. She puts her head in her hands, staring at the blinking line, and groans. Then she writes in Jake, looks at that for a moment, and adds stuff after. Not her proudest, but it'll have to do.

Amy’s relieved she doesn't have much work to do today, because she spends every free minute she can come across tweaking details on the document, adding and removing sections to suggest. When she's finally happy with the result, she saves it in a personal folder she can be sure no one’s ever going to open, and praises the office-gods for the fact that she has her own printer.

~

There’s a faint smell of artificial lemon in the air of Jake’s apartment as he welcomes her in, and the thought that he might have cleaned for her makes Amy blush. It seems unlike him, but the living room area does appear less cluttered to her than it did this morning, so maybe he isn’t totally incapable of it. She still doesn’t want to check his cabinets.

“You cleaned,” she says instead, nodding to the couch that looks almost neat now. “You expecting to get lucky tonight, or something?” Jake’s cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink, but then he shakes his head and points to her outfit. “You’re one to speak.”

All Amy’s done is put on a maroon floral blouse with lower cleavage than she’d ever do for work and put on a touch of pink lipstick, but he’s not completely wrong. She still chooses to ignore him. “I’ve got the contract. Should we do this, then?”

He offers her an orange soda, which she declines, but accepts a mug of Earl Grey tea from a package that seems to have remained unopened since before the brand last changed its design. A hot drink might calm her nerves, she hopes, but it ends up being quite the distracting experience to watch him make it for her. She tries to read through the contract one last time while searching for spelling errors she knows aren't there, her eyes keep being drawn to his hands as he holds the label of the teabag between his thumb and index finger, bobbing the bag a few times with focus once he's finished pouring the water into a New York Knicks mug. It's hard not to think about how those fingers felt dancing across her skin yesterday, massaging the sides of her breasts and holding on to her inner thighs, and it's harder not to imagine what they'd feel like another time –

“Tea,” he interrupts her thoughts by placing the mug in front of her. “Thought maybe you wanted a cup that didn’t say NYPD on it.”

“Well, you're right in that.” She brings it to her lips, almost burning her tongue and hoping he didn't see. “You want to read it on your own, or should I read it to you?”

Jake sits back in the massage chair closest to her, spreading his legs and putting his palms on them before shooting her that disarming smile again. “You read it.”

Amy swallows hard. “Okay. Section one: relationship status. This arrangement only works if we're both single. We’re not bringing more people into this.”

“What about an open relationship?”

“No. Still complicated. This is complicated enough with just us. If either of us gets in an actual relationship, it's over.”

Jake nods. “Cool. Next rule?”

“Section two: appropriate behavior. We're not dating,” she says, pointing first at herself and then at him with the ballpoint pen she brought from work. “So we can't behave like we're dating. Outside of our apartments, we're strictly friends. Or acquaintances. Honestly, it's weird we're even friends.”

“But you admitted we're friends.”

“Sure.” She takes another sip of the tea. “But that means no public flirting, no inappropriate comments, no like, commenting heart or fire emojis on Instagram pictures –”

“Are these rules for you or for me?” Jake winks. “I know my selfies are stunning, but I’m sure you can control yourself.”

“For both of us. Section three: we part in the morning. No exceptions. Staying overnight is okay, but once we wake up, we’re done.”

“What counts as morning in this scenario? I’m not going to have to get up at six a.m., am I?”

“Not unless you stay at my place when I have work.”

“I’ll remember not to do that, then.”

“Great. Section four – protection.”

“You have an entire section on that?” Jake looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

“It’s important!” She exclaims, feeling herself getting defensive. “I have an implant, so we’re safe from pregnancy, but it’s either condoms or you need to get checked.”

Jake nearly spits out some of his orange soda, coughing slightly. “You must be fun at parties.”

“I’m actually a nationally accredited and registered chaperone.”

“What is that?”

“Doesn’t matter. Are you going to do it or not?”

“Fine. You, then?”

“I will if you want me to.” Amy shrugs. “But I haven’t slept with anyone since my ex, so we should be good.”

Jake’s eyebrows fly up. “Really?”

“That so surprising to you?”

“A little? In the least jerk-ish way possible, you must get, well… offers.”

“People don’t flirt a whole lot with their lawyers,” she says, shifting in her chair and crossing her legs. “And it hasn’t been my focus. Are we good with the contract?”

“Actually, I want to add one more rule.”

“Yeah?”

Jake leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head and flexing his biceps through the green shirt with a smug grin. “You’re not allowed to fall in love with me.”

Amy looks at him for a moment, trying to determine whether or not he’s joking, but he doesn’t waver, so she leans forward and draws a fifth section sign on the blank space left on the document. No developing feelings or this ends, she prints out in capital letters, signing her name on the allotted line.

“Won’t be a problem.”

Jake signs the contract, and Amy tries not to grimace at how messy his signature is as she places the document in a thin plastic folder, promising him a copy tomorrow.

“Cool,” Jake nods. He’s messing up his curls with his right hand again, the way she’s noticed he does when he’s trying to flirt. She wonders if it’s strategy or nerves. “So, are you doing anything else tonight, or...”

“What, contract signing’s got you all hot and bothered?”

“I mean, seeing you in full lawyer mode. It’s not, not hot.”

“Double negation?” Amy scrunches her nose. “Oh, you’re going to have to make that one up to me.”

“Maybe I will,” he says, and she needs only to notice the way his eyes darken to know that it’s on.

Amy can feel her legs still shaking a little as she hails a cab outside Jake's apartment just after, and she closes her eyes in the backseat and wonders how it's possible to feel this amazing, this satisfied from a cocktail of what she knows is mostly dopamine and oxytocin. It still makes her feel all giggly, like she can't stop smiling to herself.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket, and she picks it up to read a text from Jake.

Fucking hell that was SO GOOD.

Maybe this friends with benefits thing won't be so bad after all.

~

[risukadarlin]

[kare no plus minus jijou] vol. 2: kuchibeta na osananajimi - track two

2; + friday, just the two of us

listen along・masterpost

                                                                                     ✿

Ah, no.

I need a break.

It’s already 9?!

I’m never going to finish this report.

I have work tomorrow too.

Are you thirsty?

That cup’s empty, right?

I’ll bring you something.

What do you want?

Same again?

It’s fine, sit down.

It’s not like I need help carrying drinks.

Really?

Let’s go together then.

Come on, where are you going?

This kitchen’s this way.

“You want to say hello”?

Oh yeah, I forget you get on well with my mum.

But there’s no point in going to the living room.

She’s not there right now.

No, she’s not at work.

She’s gone on a trip with my dad.

They won’t be back until Sunday.

It’s their wedding anniversary.

They do this every year.

I’m having soda but what about you?

Something warm?

Okay.

The air-con’s on in my room, right?

Give me your mug.

What do you mean “that’s lovely”?

Oh, my parent’s holiday?

What? Do you want to celebrate anniversaries too?

Okay. I’ll keep it in mind.

What do you mean, “that’s unusual”?

I never said I actually would?

I just said I’d keep it in mind.

I’m mean?

You used to say that all the time.

I always used to make you cry in primary school.

I’m sorry.

I was desperate back then.

I wanted you to like me.

But I never knew what to say.

You always used to react when I made a pass at you, though.

No, no, I’ve definitely changed.

Haven’t I…?

I might still be the same in some ways but I always tell you how I feel now.

“Tell you what”?

You really need to ask?

You can tell already, can’t you?

That I…

Things like this.

Do you get it now?

You don’t?

You’re hopeless.

I’ll tell you one more time, then.

Oops. Are you okay?

It was long because…

I couldn’t kiss you in the club room.

I’m amazed I lasted so long.

Hm? That candy?

It just tasted like lemon.

But now it tastes like tea.

Hey.

Why don’t you stay over?

It’s Friday evening.

I’ll be sad if you just do your homework and leave.

I won’t force you.

I’ll walk you home if you want.

But I want to spend more time with you, if I can.

Are you sure?

I have ulterior motives, you know.

Oh, shit.

I almost forgot.

Is tea okay?

You like early grey, right?

Oh, there’s none left.

Are you okay with something else?

Orange Pekoe?

Is that just orange tea?

Is it different?

It’s not the same as earl grey right?

This is complicated.

Whatever.

Give me that cup.

If the flavour’s different, you should wash it first.

It’s fine, I’ll do it.

Are you okay?!

Are you hurt?!

You’re not?

Good.

It’s fine.

Don’t touch it.

It’s dangerous.

This is all of it?

I don’t think there are any pieces left but I’ll run the vacuum over it later.

Don’t take your slippers off.

There might be some small fragments there.

You don’t need to apologise.

It’s my fault for trying to grab it.

Don’t worry.

I’ll get another one.

Is this one okay?

It’s not the same, is it?

That was your special cup, right?

Oh, I’m sorry.

That’s not what I meant.

Don’t look so down.

Okay?

You don’t need words right now, right?

So I’m hugging you. Silently.

Do you feel a bit better now?

Good.

I’m sorry for breaking it.

I didn’t know you liked it so much.

I won it at the shooting range during the school festival in Grade 11, right?

I tried to give it to you but you said you’d only use it when you came to my house.

I thought you were just giving it back to me.

You’re right.

You really only did use this when you came here.

I thought you were just following what you promised you’d do.

But I was wrong.

I’m sorry.

And thank you.

I have work tomorrow but…

Let’s go buy another one on Sunday or something.

One just for you.

Good.

Let’s go back upstairs.

If we’re going out on Sunday, we need to finish this report soon.

[lovestraykldz]

icstay | chanlix

summary: it's another fall without him, and felix can't help but continue the habits he's started since the last day with chan. cw: implications of death                      i can’t stop thinking about you ,, rain taps the windows of the cafe as the door opens every so often; customers ordering, drinking, and leaving. the leaves resting on the cement outside become soaked and more fall from the rain pulling them. autumn’s crisp air visits the cafe with each customer, the place staying warm for only a few moments at a time. another fall without him. it doesn’t surprise me that more people walk in once school hours end. the shop is pretty well known around seoul as the menu doesn’t have much of a limit to it. he actually introduced me here our first year of high school. i take a sip of my earl grey tea and finish my coffee cake. outside, a high schooler says something to his friends and drops down to tie his shoe. he stands up and rushes to catch up to them, walking into the cafe seconds later. their group adds to the noise already bustling in the evening rush. i overhear one of them talk about visiting a pc room after they order and they’re all in. “i’m sorry. i can’t.” the others pester him as to why and he says, “my brother just got back home and he said he’s cooking tonight. i’ll go tomorrow.” his friends mutter okays and wave him goodbye as he goes home to his brother. my phone buzzes on the table and i almost feel something. hey, i just came back from uni. do you want to go out for a meal? my treat! i reply with an enthusiastic sure and turn off my phone when he says to meet him outside my complex at 18:00. after an hour or so, the cafe calms and my sister comes over from behind the counter. “hey,” she smiles lightly. i look to her as she sits in the seat beside me. nothing is said for a few moments until she sighs. “i have a date tonight, so,” she pauses, bites her lip carefully and continues. “i won’t be home until late. you don’t have to stay up.” i nod and take the last sip of my earl gray tea, taking it to the kitchen behind the counter. she follows me and asks if i’m mad. i shake my head. “why would i be mad?” the kitchen door opens and her coworker kihyun puts his things away as his shift is finished for the day. he leaves us afterwards and we’re in an awkward silence. “because it’s the fall..” she trails off and i can’t help but make a remark. “it being fall doesn’t mean anything. you find someone when you find them and you don’t let them go until you know. don’t make the same mistake i did.” the air stills and she looks at the floor like it’s the one she’s having a conversation with. i wash the mug and plate and leave them on the rack to dry. i look at the clock and it strikes a quarter to 18:00. “i have to go. have fun on your date. see you tomorrow,” i say and dry my hands, making my way home to change into something a bit more fitting for the occasion. i turn my phone on right before i walk into my apartment and jisung texts me a second later as i’d timed it. i’m downstairs! :) i reply an okay and slip on a pair of jeans, a white tee, my converse, and his hoodie. when i reach the front door of the building, i see jisung whistling and looking around. he sees me walk out and waves with a smile. “hey! how’ve you been?” he asks. i tell him the truth: okay. he nods and smiles as if okay was something spectacular to be. i ask him the same and says he finally got his own apartment and he’s going to adopt a puppy soon. he goes on about his future dog as we make our way to the restaurant. upon entering, the waitress at the front desk asks us how many and jisung answers a table for two. we’re seated after minute and given our menus. “your waiter will be with you soon,” she smiles and walks back to the front. i take out my phone and turn it off, setting it on the table beside my chopsticks. jisung notices and asks. something clicks and i ask myself like the protagonist in a drama, why’d i turn my phone off? “habit,” i answer simply and he nods, almost taking note of it. i stand by my action and keep my phone off but still ask myself why i’d turned it off. “felix,” he calls my name softly. i look up from my menu. “what’re you going to get?” he asks, tilting his head to the waiter waiting for me to place my order. “can i get pork belly and stir-fried rice cake,” i order and jisung follows with his and the waiter takes our menus, saying our orders will be up soon. he looks over at me with a slightly shock and confusion in his eyes. “you like pork belly?” he asks. i nod, asking myself why i ordered pork belly if i was already planning on eating stir-fried rice cake. do i even like pork belly? jisung seems to take note of this too, and he puts it aside bringing up how uni’s going. “it’s good,” i lie. i haven’t gone to classes since two weeks ago. my professors have emailed me saying if i don’t show up next week, they’ll either drop or fail me for the semester. i can’t tell him, though. he’s the only one treating me like i’m not broken and the moment he hears this i know he’ll try fixing it. he sighs, dropping his head and says my name as if i’m a child in trouble by his father. “have you even gone to your classes?” he asks, his eyes are now closed. i hum a yes and he looks up, a bit angered. “felix. please,” his expression goes soft. “tell me the truth. how’s uni? how are you?” he breathes carefully as if his breathing will push his questions to push me off the cliff. suddenly, finally, i feel something. i don’t know what to say. i want to say that uni sucks; that i’m not doing so well; that it’s getting harder to get out of bed again; that i can’t stop ordering the food he ordered on our dates; that i can’t stop turning off my stupid phone becasue without him i have no one i need to text; that all i can smell is his damn cologne; and that all i want to see his stupid face one last time. but all i can do, is cry. i don’t make a sound, and nothing falls, but the tears form heavily. he sees our waiter with the food and asks if we can get it to go. the waiter nods and goes back to place everything in containers. when he comes back with our take-out, jisung pays quickly and we leave. once we reach my apartment, he starts opening the bags. “do you want to watch a movie?” he asks. i agree and put on howl’s moving castle, hiring the volume enough so we can watch it from the kitchen table. once the movie finishes, we get up and i start clearing the table and sink for the night. “hey, jisung,” i mumble. he hums softly in response. i put the dishes down and let the water run as i ask, “how’d you get over minho?” i look over and he has his head down, maybe thinking. he looks up and smiles lightly, “i didn’t. sometimes, you just learn to live with the memories they leave behind. it took me a while to start smiling again,” he pauses and looks down again. “the last year of high school and starting uni weren’t the best. i couldn’t get up; i didn’t want to. all i wore for months was his cardigan he left behind.” jisung sighs and leans against the couch, still smiling softly. “i’d even check my phone a lot; i thought he’d text me or something. don’t even get me started on the pictures,” he chuckles. i let my head down and think, so, i’m never getting over him ,,? “thing is,” jisung continues. “it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. i know i didn’t lose him like you lost chan. can’t imagine what it’s like.. i’m sorry.” i shake my head, “it’s not your fault.” “it’s not your fault either,” he sighs, standing up. “i should go. it’s getting pretty late. i’ll text you. keep your phone on tomorrow?” i nod with a faint smile and he smiles back, waving and leaving to his place. i’m alone in my apartment for a couple more hours till my sister gets back, so i decide talk as if he’s still here. “hey, chan,” i try to smile. this is stupid.. but it’s all i have. “i hope you made it to the happy place you always told me about.” tears start bubbling up. “i miss you, a lot. i still wear the hoodie you gave me for my birthday. it’s still really soft,” i chuckle lightly. “i hope you’re not mad that i’m using your cologne on the hoodie.” there it is: the first tear i’ve let fall since that day. “i miss you so much, chan. fuck!” i let out, going to the ground. “how can i forget you?! i can’t stop fucking thinking about you!” i try to breathe, and let out one more cry. “i can’t stop thinking about you..”                                                  ☽ !disclaimer!: i wrote this without knowing if chan is passed or not, so i myself am not sure what the situation is.

[juliandev0rak]

More Like Sisters

Beatrice, Leila, and Ella pick out their dresses for the yule ball and spend the day together. 

a side fic to the main Hallmark Yule Series written by @leila-of-ravens

characters: Beatrice Viano, Leila Lonan, Lysander Lonan, Lachlan Lonan (of @leila-of-ravens), and Ella Sagen (of @leechobsessed)

oh and Julian Devorak (he’s here too)

words: ~3300 warnings: friends being cute notes: 2/3 of beaellaleila are unlucky in love, the remaining 1/3 wants to put clay on everyone’s faces

Life in the Lonan household is never silent. There’s always someone up making noise, or even just the creak of the walls as the house settles in the night. Though she’s had trouble sleeping with all of the noise and excitement, Beatrice finds that having so many people around has become comforting after a few days. She doesn’t know how she’s going to return to her empty, quiet apartment in Vesuvia when she has to go home.

She sits at the breakfast table across from Leila, stirring a large spoonful of sugar into her tea. Bramble sits on her lap, fast asleep despite the lively chatter of the group. Since Lysander has already left for the University, Beatrice finds herself less apt to socialize. She stares sleepily into her teacup and is thinking of grabbing another of the pastries on the platter in front of her when she notices that Leila has turned to look at her.

“Earl grey again, Beatrice?” Leila gestures to Beatrice’s tea. Beatrice blushes behind her teacup and takes a sip to stall as she thinks of a response. Since she’d met Lysander she’d taken to drinking it, even though she hadn’t loved the taste at first, but now it’s become her favorite simply because it’s his favorite.

Beatrice settles with a polite but vague response, “Yes, I quite like earl grey.” 

Leila simply gives her a knowing look and turns back to her own breakfast. Julian sits to her right, drinking a cup of coffee and leaning back in his chair, looking fully at ease. He raises an eyebrow as he watches Beatrice add yet another spoonful of sugar to her cup.

“You sure put a lot of sugar in your tea,” He laughs, and Leila playfully nudges him with her shoulder.

“Don’t be rude to our guests.”

“It was simply an observation, and I’m a guest too!” Julian protests.

“Not anymore you’re not, we live here.” Leila’s tone is light and affectionate as she leans in to kiss his cheek and Beatrice looks away to give them privacy. 

Her eyes drift to Ella and Lachlan who sit across from each other at the other end of the table, pointedly looking anywhere but at each other, just as they had the morning before. Beatrice has been worried about Ella, she’s seemed withdrawn as of late, and Beatrice has a hunch that the youngest Lonan brother is to blame. 

Ella is in dire need of some cheering up, and luckily today’s the perfect day for that. Since they’ve arrived in Umbra there’s been a packed agenda, but the only thing on the schedule today is an appointment with the tailor. It promises to be a fun experience, and then they’ll have the afternoon to themselves to just spend time with each other, something they haven't had much time for yet.

The tailor arrives shortly after breakfast and as Leila leads Beatrice and Ella down the hall to the room where the tailor has set up, she finds herself feeling a bit nervous. When Lysander had asked her to the ball she’d been overjoyed, but once she’d learned she would have to dance in front of everyone she was less than enthused. Her choice of dress seems important, given how many people will be looking at her. As if sensing her apprehension, Leila reaches out to link her arm with Beatrice’s and the three make their way into the room together. 

Leila goes first. She already has an idea in mind, and the tailor picks out a lacey white material to compliment the design. The color is beautiful, and when she shows them the fabric swatch up close Beatrice notices the lace pattern is made up of tiny white snowflakes. It’s perfect, both for the theme of the yule ball and for a tempestaria like Leila. 

“You’ll look stunning, Leila,” Beatrice says, noting how the color of the dress accentuates Leila’s dark hair and brings out her light eyes.

“It’s beautiful.” Ella smiles at Leila as she twirls in the sample dress in the mirror, testing the swishiness of the skirt. It’s the first genuine smile Beatrice has seen from Ella all day, and she’s determined to see more by the end of it. It’s Ella’s turn to go next, but as she steps up towards the mirror her smile fades.

“Do you have anything in mind?” The tailor asks as she takes Ella’s measurements. 

“No, I hadn’t thought about it.” Ella does her best to keep her tone light and polite but Beatrice can detect a hint of sadness. Though Lachlan and Ella are going to the ball together, clearly they haven’t reconciled.

“Ella, you look very pretty in blue, perhaps we should look at blue fabrics?” Beatrice suggests.

“I agree!” Leila smiles, getting up from her chair to inspect a sample of sparkly blue fabric, “What about something like this?” she holds it up for Ella to look.

“Ooh.” Ella’s smile perks up as she reaches a hand out to feel the fabric, “That’s pretty.” 

“It most certainly is,” The tailor smiles, heading across the room to their inventory of sample dresses. “I would suggest a cut like this.” She holds up a dress with a full skirt and delicate, sheer sleeves.

“You should try it on,” Leila encourages her. “That would be gorgeous on you.” 

She agrees and steps behind the changing screen in the corner of the room. Leila and Beatrice turn to discuss the ball preparations, and despite her fear of public dancing Beatrice finds herself quite excited. If nothing else, she loves to plan, and though there’s not much left to do with the event only a week away, she’s eager to decorate the house tomorrow. 

They’d left the door to the room open a crack, and Beatrice startles as the door squeaks open more widely. She’s puzzled when she sees nobody at the door, but then her gaze is brought to movement at the ground to see it was just Bramble coming in. “Oh, hello Bramble, have you come to get a dress too?” Beatrice picks up her rabbit familiar, carefully placing her on her lap.

The girls are too deep in conversation to notice the youngest Lonan brother who happens to peek inside the door at the exact moment Ella steps out from behind the changing screen. Lachlan takes a surprised step back into the hallway, his eyes stuck on the exposed skin of Ella’s back, the way the dress cinches perfectly around her waist. He pulls his gaze away and hurries down the hall, fleeing the scene before anyone has the chance to notice his presence.

“I couldn’t get the zipper up all the way,” Ella says, oblivious to the drama occurring outside the door. She turns around so the tailor can help her and stands before the mirror with an excited smile. “I love this.” 

“It’ll be even prettier in blue!” Beatrice is glad to see her friend happy. Ella swishes around in the dress like Leila had, looking excited and pleased, and very pretty indeed.

Next is Beatrice’s turn, and she has no idea where to begin. The tailor takes her measurements and she wonders whether she should go for something familiar or something new, something that would take people by surprise, something to take Lysander by surprise. She tries to stop thinking of him as she discusses dress design with the tailor, her mind can’t help but wonder what he might think of her choices. 

When it’s clear Beatrice isn’t going to make a choice any time soon, Leila jumps in, “The colors of the yule ball are white, blue, and gold. If you wear something gold, we can match!” 

It’s a great idea, Beatrice loves to be on theme after all. The tailor holds up a variety of samples but none of the golds are quite right, they’re too bold, too shiny, too yellow. Finally the tailor pulls out a swatch of champagne gold, lighter and almost pink in tone compared to the other fabrics she’s looked at so far.

“Oh, Beatrice, that’s lovely on you,” Ella comments as the tailor holds the fabric up to see how it looks next to Beatrice’s face. 

It brings out the rosiness of her cheeks and the golden undertones in her hair, and she has to agree that it’s a pretty color on her. The fabric decided, they move on to the style of the dress. She wants something with a flowy skirt, but nothing so voluminous she could trip over it. Beatrice is a good dancer, but she’ll take no chances with a train or a full ball gown. 

Once the girls have finalized the details with the tailor and scheduled their fittings for a few days later, they’re left with the rest of the day to themselves. The afternoon passes quickly, spent in front of the fire, playing cards and chatting. The topics are light, mostly focused on the upcoming ball and their plans. Beatrice finds the drawing room warm and the couch comfortable and just when she thinks she might doze off on Leila’s surprisingly comfortable shoulder it’s time for dinner.  

It’s just the three of them, and though Beatrice is glad for more time spent with her friends, she misses Lysander. After dinner Leilla announces that she has a surprise for them and they follow her eagerly up the stairs. But when she leads them into a bathroom, Ella and Beatrice exchange a look of confusion. 

“Why have you brought us to the bathroom?” Ella asks as Leila reaches into her dress pocket and pulls out a vial of what looks to be green dirt.

“I thought we could use a little more pampering.” Leila reaches for a bowl stored in one of the storage cabinets.

“Do you usually carry dirt in your pocket?” Beatrice asks, watching in confusion as Leila tips the vial into the bowl and fills it with a bit of water.

“It’s clay, ” Leila laughs, dipping her finger into the bowl to stir it around. Beatrice peers over her shoulder, not quite sure what she’s expecting to happen. “Beatrice could you put your hair up?” 

“My hair?” She questions, wondering what on earth Leila’s up to. When Leila nods, Beatrice reaches into her pocket for a pencil, quickly winding her hair into a bun around it.

“It’s a clay mask, you put it on your face and wait for it to dry before you wash it off. It’s good for your skin.” Leila continues to stir the mixture until it becomes homogeneous, then she lifts her finger up and reaches towards Beatrice's face.

“How… inventive.” Beatrice struggles to find the proper word, it just looks like green mud to her. But Leila hasn’t steered her wrong yet, so she lets her friend spread the mixture on her face. It’s cold, but in a refreshing way, and she catches a glimpse of her face in the mirror and stifles a laugh at the image of her face turned green. Leila finishes applying the mask and turns to Ella who is busy wrangling her hair into a manageable pile on the top of her head.

“What do we do while it sets?” Ella asks.

“We sit, and drink wine.” Leila starts to apply the mask to Ella, who winces from the cold just as Beatrice had.

“I remember where the wine is, would you like me to go get it?” Beatrice offers, already stepping out into the hall. 

“Sure!” Leila turns to look at her, half of her face green and the other her natural color. 

“Maybe bring more than one bottle,” Ella suggests, peering her head around the doorway to watch Beatrice walk down the stairs. 

Beatrice can feel the clay hardening on her face as she walks, and she thinks if she were to smile it might crack. The image reminds her of the scars she’d seen on Lysander’s hands, disappearing beneath the sleeves of his shirt. She’s never dared to ask him about the scars before, they’re peculiar but beautiful in a way, cracked like broken ceramic. She rounds the corner into the kitchen and suddenly comes face to face with the man she’d just been thinking about, busy making a cup of tea.

“Oh, good evening, Beatrice.” Lysander greets her cordially, his lips turning into a confused frown at the sight of her. “What do you have all over your face?” 

“Clay.” She responds, grateful the green mud at least hides her embarrassed blush at being caught looking this way. “It’s supposed to be good for your skin.” 

“It looks strange, but I have heard of the health benefits of clay. You’ll have to apprise me of the results.” He turns back to stirring milk into his tea with absolute focus.

“I’ll be sure to let you know how it worked.” She tries to keep her back turned to him as she grabs two bottles of wine and some glasses from the kitchen. In the few short days of her stay here she’d gotten well acquainted with the layout of the house, she already feels at home here. When she turns to leave she notices Lysander looking at her again and she quickly ducks her head.

“Will you be assisting with the yule ball preparations tomorrow?” Lysander asks, still looking at her curiously.

“Yes, I’m looking forward to it.” Beatrice gives him a nod in goodbye and turns to leave. As soon as she’s out of sight she rushes down the hall, trying not to drop any of the glasses or bottles in her arms. She finds Leila and Ella in the drawing room and tries her best not to slam the door shut behind her.

“Beatrice? What’s wrong?” Leila must notice the slightly crazed look in her eyes. Beatrice sets the wine and glasses down on the side table and takes a deep breath to settle herself. Leila and Ella are both turned to look at her and she realizes she should probably respond. 

“I saw Lysander in the kitchen.” Beatrice sighs, plopping down between them in the middle of the couch.

“Oh no.” Leila reaches a comforting hand to Beatrice’s shoulder, “I’m sure he wouldn’t judge you for your… green-ness.” 

“It was just embarrassing.” Beatrice resists the urge to put her face into her hands, not wanting to get clay all over her long sleeves. “I’m always embarrassing around him.” 

“That’s not true! You’re brilliant around him. I’ve seen the two of you carrying on your academic discussions, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you’re not watching. He likes you, even if he doesn’t know it yet.” Ella smiles at her, reaching to grab her hand. Leila reaches over to the side table and opens a bottle of wine, pouring a glass for each of them. 

“Are you sure?” Beatrice accepts the glass from Leila and takes a sip. “I think he sees me as a friend, perhaps, but surely nothing more.” 

“Beatrice, I know my brother better than anyone and I can tell you that for all of his intelligence, he can be a bit dense. He’s observant, but he doesn’t always see what’s in front of him. Give him time, encourage him.” Leila pats her shoulder again and takes a sip of her own wine.

“So what do you recommend, to encourage affection?” Beatrice asks, once again blushing under her clay mask.

“Dancing,” Ella says almost wistfully. The look on her face fades from happiness to sadness in an instant when she realizes what she’s said.

“Things still aren't going well with Lachlan?” Leila reaches across Beatrice to grab Ella’s other hand, the three girls now linked. 

“I-,” Ella looks as if she might cry for a moment, but she takes a deep breath and collects herself. “No, they aren’t.”

“He owes you an apology,” Beatrice says, trying to keep her voice from conveying the anger she feels at anyone who could harm her friend. While she’s angry at Lachlan, he is Leila’s brother and she feels the need to remain civil.

“He does,” Leila sighs, “He owes you more than that, he needs to make it up to you.”

“Lachlan can’t even stand to look at me,” Ella’s head droops as she stares down at her shoes. Beatrice squeezes her hand in a show of support. 

“He knows he treated you poorly, he probably feels guilty,” Beatrice frowns, “and rightfully so. You’re not the one at fault here.” 

“Ella, how do you feel about him now? Is he worth it?” Leila asks, giving her friend an encouraging smile.

“I thought I hated him for what he did, but I don't.” Ella sighs, “I could never hate him.” It’s not quite an answer, but the message comes across loud and clear- he’s worth it. 

“And Beatrice? How do you feel about Lysander?” Leila turns to look at her.

“I’m- I think I’m in love with him.” Beatrice’s voice is barely a whisper as she finishes the words, she’s admitted it to herself but not to anyone else, not directly.

“That’s wonderful, Beatrice!” Ella squeezes her hand, just as Beatrice had done.

“It doesn’t feel wonderful,” Beatrice murmurs, thinking of all the empty moments spent waiting for him to notice her, to give her some sort of sign that he might like her.

“No, it doesn’t.” Ella agrees.

“I’m sorry,” Leila puts her glass down and reaches around to give both of them a hug. Ella and Beatrice join in until they’re in an awkward sort of hug huddle. Beatrice’s cheek is pressed against Leila’s and the clay mask feels a bit unpleasant, but she doesn’t pull away. “The Lonans are a difficult bunch at times.” 

“But we love you,” Beatrice smiles, trying to ignore the cracking feel of the clay.

“And we all love you, or at least, we all will,” Leila returns the smile, finally pulling back from the hug. “It’ll all be alright soon, I can feel it.” 

“And I can feel my face peeling off.” Beatrice reaches up to touch her cheek and a patch of dry clay comes off in a flake. 

“Mine too, can we wash these masks off yet?” Ella asks, trying to avoid getting any clay in the stray piece of hair that’s escaped from her updo.

“What, you don’t want to keep the green for a while? Lachlan would definitely look at you then.” Leila laughs.

“I think I’ll pass on that,” Ella replies, and Beatrice is pleased to hear her laughing instead of wincing at the mention of him like she had earlier.

“Me too, I’ve had enough embarrassment for the day. But perhaps tomorrow I’ll turn my hair green too.” Beatrice jokes.

“I’m going to miss both of you when you go back to Vesuvia,” Leila sighs.

“Even when we’re gone, it'll still be the three of us.” Ella’s words, and her familiar smile, comfort the pang of sadness Beatrice feels at the thought of returning to Vesuvia.

“The three of us,” Beatrice echoes, “Though an ocean might separate us, we’re friends, always.” 

“Best friends,” Ella corrects her. 

“More like sisters.” Leila grins, and Beatrice agrees.

[notgonnarememberthis]

find your way (back to me) - chapter eleven

I was initially going to hold back on this update until Sunday but y’all already know my impulse control is nonexistent and with the encouragement of new friends (hey naomi and elena!!) I had to go ahead and post. Tried something a little new with this chapter and it focuses a lot on Malcolm and I learned I actually like writing in his POV a lot so that’s new. It also features more Edrisa bc I love her and she’s my best friend’s absolute fav so I had to do them some service after the help with the last chapter which got some of my most insanely complimentary comments. Like one of y’all really commented how I wrote Martin well and I didn’t stop smiling the entire day. That’s fucking insane. Hope y’all enjoy the update and are staying safe!

Gil steps out of the room, exhaustion settling into him. Immediately Ainsley sits up leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.

“How is she? Is she ok?” The drive back from Claremont had been the worst. Jessica had jumped with every siren sounding and in New York? It was a lot. Ainsley held her hand the entire time while Malcolm rocked, his brain firing off at a million miles a minute. Nobody said a word but it was Jessica’s silence that was the most concerning to them. 

What the hell happened in that cell?

“She remembered what happened, didn’t she?” Malcolm casts a glance at Ainsley who doesn’t meet his gaze. Gil can only shrug.

“She still hasn’t said anything but something in there definitely got to her. I called Dani and JT. They agreed to be the new details until we can sort out why she got so uncomfortable when we passed the guards on our way out and the drive home.”

“We should go get mom’s things.” Ainsley says. “She only packed clothes. She left all of her products and things she’ll probably need. Who knows how long this stay will last, we should at least make her comfortable.” But she shifts her eyes to the door where Jessica was sleeping, or at least pretending to. She feels guilty for leaving her twice, it’s written all over her face.

“I’ll go.” Malcolm offers. “I feel like we missed something that night. It’ll give me a chance to look again.”

“Hell no.” Gil protests immediately. “I’m not comfortable with you going alone.”

“I’ll bring a detail.” His retort is interrupted by the sound of movement from the other room, like someone shifting around in the bed. Jessica is listening and for whatever reason, she doesn’t like that.

“We can go tomorrow. Right now I want all of us under the same roof.” Malcolm tips his head back, annoyed then rises again with an idea.

“What if I bring Edrisa? She’ll be able to help me look around and we’ll be back before you know it.” No more sounds of ruffling interrupt so Gil has to give in.

“Fine, but I want updates. And if you get even a whiff that something is wrong you two get the hell out.”

“Deal.” Gil sighs as Malcolm rushes off to text Edrisa.

The Whitly’s are going to be the death of him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“This is so exciting.” Edrisa practically bounces with every step up the driveway. “I’ve never actually got to be a part of the actual investigation.” She pauses, a thought interrupting her excitement. “Should I have brought something to defend myself?”

Malcolm smiles, her enthusiasm is refreshing after his day. Honestly, part of him just wanted to talk to her to get some of the weight of the world off his shoulders. For a brief moment this case isn’t a killer threatening his family. It’s just him and Edrisa. “Edrisa, we’re just getting clothes.”

“Are you sure cause I have pepper spray in my car.”

“Yes I’m sure.” He holds the door open for her gesturing to enter. “And besides, you’ve got me.” She beams at that, her pep coming back in full force as she bounds to the kitchen. He follows with a shake of his head.

“Ok, so what are we looking for?”

“Well, my mother drinks tea like most people drink water.” He points to the cabinet where they usually keep it. “It’s her comfort but Gil doesn’t keep tea in the house.” If Edrisa is curious why, she doesn’t show it. His tone is enough and he’s absolutely certain she read the casefile from that night.

Tea was how the surgeon sedated his victims, Gil was almost one of them.

When Edrisa opens the cabinet her eyes widen. The shelves are stacked with bags of tea, neatly sealed with tight creases. “That’s a lot.” She chuckles.

“It’s everyone’s favorites. Chai for Ainsley, the black is mine. She has every worker’s favorites, I think she even managed to get JT’s but don’t tell him that.”

“My lips are sealed. Matcha is my favorite, by the way.” She winks.

“Oh, she knows.” He grins at the wide, starry eyed look she gets. She blushes and clears her throat before turning back to the task. “Mother’s is the earl grey supreme.”

“What’s the difference between that and the earl grey?”

“Honestly?” Malcolm shrugs. “Price, probably.” Often she falls into the trap of the more expensive the better, it makes for an interesting Christmas and a pain in the ass to get gifts for her when she just buys anything she could possibly want on a whim.

Edrisa stops for a second, her posture straightening, and then getting on her tiptoes to see better. Even from behind he can tell she’s got something on her mind. It’s confirmed when she reaches inside pulling out a smaller, black bag. His head tilts because his mother never bought small bags. Even for people that rarely passed through she wanted to make sure they were prepared. Then the label catches his eye, it’s a completely different brand then what she normally buys from. A brand he hasn’t seen in years.

The brand his father likes.

“Where did you find that?” He asks, on edge and looking out the door. The house is silent other than the two of them but that doesn’t mean that can’t change at any second.

“It was on the bottom shelf and it’s open. All the rest are sealed. Why?”

Just like that it all pieces together. 

His mother had asked him that night if he made tea. He’d told her no and that made her seem more agitated. At first he thought it was because the killer had made her tea, had been in her room. No, it was much more than that. With Freddy’s connection to Claremont, the ability for the killer to find her bedroom and the kitchen so quickly, and the tea that his father used to make.

“The surgeon. He knows who the killer is.” The rush of emotion the punches him in the chest makes him stumble back against the counter. Edrisa runs to him, one hand on his elbow to steady him. Her presence isn’t enough to tamper the anger thudding in his chest with every heartbeat. He knew. He knew when she was missing. He knows now that her life is being threatened.

He was the one who got her to remember.

“That’s why she’d gone to him. She recognized the tea and didn’t say a word about it. Why didn’t she tell us?” Anger clashes with sadness burning at his retinas. He shuts his eyes tightly pressing the heels of his palm to them trying to get himself back under control.

“Malcolm.” His own name sounds unfamiliar in Edrisa’s voice. She’d always called him Bright. Never Malcolm. “Let’s get her stuff and go. They’ll get worried soon.” Her calmness has him taking a deep breath and nodding. “Good.” She extends her hand to him, it’s an almost childish offer in its innocence. Her hand is something to ground him to the world. It gives him something different to focus on rather than his feelings.

Wordlessly, he takes her hand.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Malcolm and Edrisa arrive the house is more crowded than before. JT is by the doorway with Ainsley and Dani sharing the couch. Gil has made coffee for everyone, certain that it will be a long night all around. They all look relieved to see them but Gil reads it on his face before anyone else.

“You found something.”

“Hooooo, did I find something.” Edrisa lingers next to him, unsure if she should stay or go. She decides on the former when Ainsley scoots on the couch leaving room for her to sit on the end closest to where Malcolm still stood. “Is she awake?”

“Bright, is this a good idea?” Dani asks sitting up a little straighter. He notes that she’s in much more casual clothes, probably looking to rest before trading shifts with JT.

“Nope. But I think she knows who the killer is. And if I’m right?”

“Go. We’ll be right out here.” Ainsley nods, making the final decision.

He shifts the bag over his shoulder opening the door to the bedroom slowly. In the dim light streaming between the curtains he sees his mother sitting on the side of the bed, she’s got something in her hands but it’s too dark to make out.

“Mom?” Her head turns to him, her expression isn’t the blank unreadable one from earlier. No, she looks relieved that he’s back. The news twists uneasily in his stomach as he shuts the door behind him. “Can I ask you a couple of questions?” He doesn’t really expect her to answer. But when her breathing doesn’t pick up or really make any uncomfortable movements he takes it as permission.

He grabs a chair sliding it so that he can sit across from her. Closer he can see how tired she is. Her breakdown likely didn’t help but she definitely didn’t fall asleep at any point in time since she got back.

“Stop me if you need to, ok?” She blinks at him so he continues. “Why did you go see him?” He treads lightly, testing the waters first. An annoyed expression passes over her face but she doesn’t shift or startle. He digs in the duffel he brought along pulling out the bag of tea. “Is this why?”

When her eyes land on the bag she takes a shuddering breath, it’s confirmation enough. 

“This was the tea he used to make.” She blinks back the tears, correct again. “This is why you visited him. The killer made you the same tea, you knew he had something to do with all of this.” Her lower lip wobbles but she holds herself tightly wound. “He knew who did this.” The first tear that slides down her cheek makes him feel like the worst. “Do you want me to stop?” She shakes her head, almost imperceptibly. Her hand unfolds and in it is a crumpled note. He takes it, slowly as not to startle her into shutting back down.

Just like you like.

“Did the killer write this?” A nod. Malcolm takes a breath trying not to be frustrated that she kept this from them. Had they known they would have questioned his father so much sooner. The information she knew, it’d be common knowledge. “Thank you.” He says instead, taking her hand and enclosing it in both of his. She’d held his shaking hand like this countless amounts of times, her fingers stroking the back of his hand in the same way he mimics now. “I need you to tell me what he told you.” She starts, but doesn’t pull away. “Please.”

Her voice is deep, more tonal than he’s ever heard come from her. He almost thinks he imagines it. It’s too low to understand what she says.

“What?”

“He’s a cop.” Her eyes meet his, glassy from unshed tears. He smiles at her sadly, too caught up in the fact that his mom is back before the gravity of her words hits him full force.

Oh.

Shit.

[kait4073]

As the sun sets around us

Chapter 2

Previously:

HOLY SHIT! YOUR GOING FOR TEA WITH TOM HOLLAND!

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

Tom's POV:

After dropping off Emmi's folder, I started making my way out of the building. I didn't live far off from here and since I had no more meetings till tomorrow, so I started to make my way towards home. The busy streets of Kingston moved around me, but my mind was somewhere else. 'I'm Emmi' the way the dark shadows under her eyes contrasted against her pale skin.  She looked...tired, Like she hasn't slept in ages. Yet at the same time it was like she was a beaming ray of sunshine.

I finally reach my flat and reach in my pocket for my keys. Opening the door I hear little paws rushing towards me.  Then a little blue staffy meets me face to face, and my smile begins to grow. 

" Hey Tess, what are you doing here eh?"

I close the door behind me, bending down to meet her. Petting and kissing her head before moving to the living room. Harry, Haz, Sam, and Tuwaine sitting on the Sofa watching new episodes of Love Island.

" Really Mates! Without me!" Their heads snap towards me In fear and embarresment as if I had caught them wanking or something. Harry was the first to speakthe others not far behind. " SORRY mate we can go back for ya!"

" YEAH!!!" They chimed in.

" thanks mates! So what did I miss!"

I laughed as I made my way to the couch.

Haz looked at me seriously and stated " where do we begin"

Also, what's Tessa down here?" I asked quickly

" ahh right. We're dog sitting for a day or two while mom and day take Paddy to a modeling gig" Harry responds

As the episode is being restarted  I make sure I turned on my notifications, so that if Emmi called I wouldn't miss it. It would be nice to get to know someone new.

" ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION!" Sam cried

Putting my phone down I tuned toward the screen and prepared for what was to come.

" yes, yes. Sorry!" I replied

" Better be, we went back for ya!" Tuwaine responded jokingly.

"Alright, alright. I am paying attention. Now you can press play."

As Sam pressed play I suddenly felt the world outside of the flat sliding away. All that matred was this, me and my mates having a good time.

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

" Bloody hell Haz, you were right about not knowing where to begin." I cried. After the episode we all sat there hurt from who was just sent home.

" I know, he didn't even get a chance. Poor bloke." Harry chimed in solomy,

as you all talked about how badly he was done wrong. Thats when it happend, my phone went off..I know it could have been anyone but I really wanted it to be her. You jumped from you spot on the couch to the wall where it was now charging.

And that's when I read it.

Emmi: Hey Tom, it's Emmi.

Tom: Hey! I was wondering if you were going to message me.  Are we still on for tea?

Emmi: definitely! I need to thank you for today, if you didn't bring that folder I would have lost my roster.

Tom: No need to thank me, lol. Meet you at the school?

Emmi: Out front?

Tom: yup!

Emmi: see ya there

Tom: see ya x

" YES!" I cheered, unable to suppress my excitement,Forgetting I was in a room of people. Their heads turn to me in confusion waiting for an explanation.

" Yes what mate?" Haz ask. My cheeks brighten as I realize they have no idea about anything that happened today.

How am I going to explain this to them with out them forever making fun of me?

" well, you see...I met this girl today."

I stated shyly. I can see smirks making their way onto each of their faces.

" a girl eh. Tommy boy has got himself a girlfriend!" Harry laughs, patting on the back.

" finally mate. It's been ages since you've had a good one." Added Sam with a giggle.

" congrats Tommy boy, you always were a romantic, Love at first sight kinda guy" Haz joked.

" Alright you guys, just because Tommy here got himself a girlfriend, who her just met. Doesn't mean we can go around making fun of him to his face" Tuwaine starts "sternly"

" thank you twaine,but I will have you know that-" I speak before being cut off.

" WE JUST GOTTA DO WHEN HES NOT HERE!" Tuwaine laughs hysterically, the boys followed quickly after.  I knew the boys were joking, that's just how we were with each other. Although I want to actually tell them what's going on, if they can manage to let me speak.  I can feel the anger in me quickly growing.

"WILL YOU LADS SHUT IT! WERE NOT DATING!" I bellowed, red in the face. The room went quiet and the boys all started to stare at me.

" we might be going for tea as a thank you, since I brought her a folder she dropped in the street. I just want to meet someone knew, someone that won't look at me and  think they know because of my name or they watch my movies, and somehow I felt that with her, even if it was only for a few minutes." I ramble.

The boys eyes widening, as they had no idea what to say.

" Tom, we had no idea you felt that way...we're sorry mate!" Haz apologized.

" its alright. Just let me finish what I was saying before you go nuts will ya's?" I laughed. As I made my way off the couch and towards the door, popping my sneakers on. I quickly turned to Tessa who had followed me.

" Hey girl, I'll be back soon. Don't worry "

As I scratched behind her ear and gave her a kiss goodbye.

"I'll see you guys later!" I called out to the lads in the living room, closing the door behind me.

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

The walk back to the school would have been short and sweet, but the argument with the boys made me 20 mins, late.. The brisk London air hitting my face, and making the heat a little more bearable. As I came upon the school tonmy relief I saw still Emmi sitting on the stairs reading a book. Her bag looked less heavy than before and she had no folders with her. I quicked my pace again , and soon I was at the bottom of the stairs.

" Hello again." I said, catching her attention. A smile grew on her face as she saw it was me. " Hey yourself" she laughed. She stated making her way down the stairs while putting her book in her bag, then zipping it.

" Ready?" I asked holding out my hand towards the street.

" Yes sir" she mocked. She followed me to the small Cafe near my flat. It was cozy and quiet inside. You get hit with the warmth from the steam, and the smell from the drinks as soon as you walk in. A smile grew on Emmi's face. 'I knew she would love it here. ' I though to myself

" Oh Tom, this place is wonderful. This is an amazing place to sit and get away from the world and it's chaos, with a book and some tea." Emmi dreamily stated.

I laughed before guiding her to the empty table so she can put her bag down.

" let's order, it's on me since you saved me today!" Emmi laughed.

"What do you want? Before I go go there." Emmi asked

I thought for a second before making my decision.

" Earl Grey, lots of milk, 2 sugar. Please and thank you. " I made sure to thank her since she didn't have to do this and even threw in a smile. I sat at the table while she went to get the drinks. A few moments later she returned with both of our drinks in hand.

" Here you go, Earl Grey with lots of milk and 2 sugar.  You didn't specify size so I got you a medium. I hope that's okay?!" She says shyly. Handing me my drink.

" More than okay, thank you again." I smiled at her.

Taking a sip of her drink, she blushes momentarily.

" So what did you get?" I asked intrigued, leaning closer. She laughed at my actions before sitting back in her chair.

" Vanilla Chai latte, been dying to try on and I thought why not today." She shrugged and I nodded at her answer.

" Okayyy so, how long have you been in Kingston. Your obviously not from here." I asked. I saw all color.drain from her face. But she quickly covored it up. ' Am I missing something?  Did I say something wrong? ' I though beginig to worry I had ruined any chances of being her friend.

" I came here 2 years ago to finish school. I mean if you couldn't tell from this morning I work in a school. I am starting my first year as a full time teacher."  Emmi explains confidentiality.

" Anyways, enough about me. What do you do? Other than acting I mean?" Emmi said changing the subject. ' holy shit, I rarely ever get asked this. '  I thought slightly amazed. A smile grew on my face as I started.

" well I lived with my Mates, and we all have this obsession with Love Island. I know it's dumb but for some reason we just can't get enough. I have a dog named Tessa and she's my baby. I work with my brothers on our Brothers trust stuff. I mean I do a lot now that I think about it. Sorry I am rambling I don't get asked this a lot." I rambled on till I came to my senses. Emmi laughed and shook her head.

" no need to feel embarrassed I find it endearing. And besides I want to know more, Mr. Holland." She smiled

" I like to be able to go out with my Mates and have a drink, with out being followed by paparazzi. Clubs are always fun, and inlove to travel. What about you?" I asked

" well In my free time I love to read and bake. I love to be able to try new things, and go new places. Although with new teacher salary that may take a while." She joked

" Anyways, I am not the most social person, I prefer to keep to myself. Which may explain why in 2 years I still don't have any friends here. " she talked, she began to mumble the last part but I was close enough to still hear her.

" well now that's not exactly all true. You and I ate friends now." I comforted her, holding her hand across the table. She smiled at me. We finished drinking our tea and talked for hours. 

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

" which way do you walk home?" I asked  as the night had come to an end.

Emmi turned to me before responding.

" I go left, you?" She asked.

" I got north but I go left till the school. So I can walk you to the school." I offered.

Yeah that's great thanks. As we walked in the dark, we stuck closer together, chatting and laughing some more. Little did I know that the entire time we were being watched and our little hang out was about to bite us in the ass.

[soranihimawari]

West Coast kind of Love

 Summary: There were certain things you know off the top of your head. One, the fact that popcorn and M&Ms should not be sold separately at the local movies is a crime; two, every other Monday of the month, the neighborhood film club would host dollar monster movies (where one of your neighbors in your apartment complex would frequently attend); and three, you might have to pinch yourself when he asks you to take a photo with you as a proof of “how things are going abroad” to his friend in Argentina...

Word count: 4.685K

Taglist: @m0nstergeneration20xx 📷 (google docs proof reader), @oitoorus​, @tkags & her ⛅ (anon fam) , @oikawalovely [open still]

“Do what you love and the rest will follow”-proverb

--September XX--Thursday, 23:13 (11:23pm)

“Oh come on Yukihira,” you knocked on the closed bathroom door of your apartment.”You know I called dibs to the bathroom after we ditched those jerks at the dancehall.”

Every month you and your roommate took turns in choosing public places to go out for a night on the town. With midterms coming up for what would be the junior year of your undergrad studies, your roommate decided giving a double date a try. Unfortunately for her, those jerks were thinking of doing the deed way too early for either of your liking. You decide that spilling your peach Bellini on your friend’s outfit during the middle of the date was the perfect excuse to end the night early. More often than not, you mostly came along these dates with her as an enforcer. You two might be as different as night and day (yukihira studies medicine all hours of the day whereas your focus was the visual arts). Tonight was just one of those nights where you being there was beneficial.

“Ugh, fine,” she said opening the door revealing her freshly brushed grin. “I can’t believe you had the gall to ruin that outfit y/n.”

“Hey, whatever helps you throw it out like you did your ex then I was doing the Lord’s work for you, Yuks.” You rolled your eyes at her when she stuck out her tongue when you slithered into the ivory tiled washroom. This earned a laugh from the other member of your household.

“But because this was a bad date and I didn’t think things through this time again, that means I get to set you up on a blind date.” Her singsong voice reached your ears as you turned on the faucet to drown out her mocking tone. You paused for a brief moment while waiting for the make up remover serium to bubble up on your face before wiping it off effectively.

“With who?” you asked after you patted your skin dry post-makeup removal ritual complete. Your hair was undone from the hair elastic you pulled out of your inherited islander curls.

“I don’t know. Hmm...Maybe the guy in unit 23C? He’s awfully cute,” Yukihira mused as you leaned in her doorway. Her brows wiggled in delight when she noticed how you stared at your neighbor on move in day during your freshman move in day three years prior.

“Iwazumi? You can’t be serious,” you said. Your voice betrayed you because your eyes shined like the gods of furtune finally found their way to you.

“Do you want to or not? He’s focused, witty, determined; I have my physiology study group with him tomorrow. Why don’t you come with, best friend of mine?”

You really hated when she pulled the puppy eyes on you, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to refuse (not by a long shot).

“Ask him if he prefers coffee or tea.”

A few days later, you came home from your department’s masters class with your portfolio sling over your shoulder. Your hands were covered in literal ink stains from your latest mural macro-micro project.

“Hey, Yukihira! Have you seen where I kept my lacquer thinner?” You raise your voice slightly as you kick off your shoes by the entrance hallway. It was only then you realize there were a couple of other pairs of shoes that did not belong to either of you. That’s when you remembered your friend’s warning about her study group coming over. All color drained from your face when you rounded the corner to your living room area converted into a mini lecture hall. You clear your throat to announce your presence which went unnoticed (with the exception of your roommate). Without even looking at the board, you chose to mess with the med students’ practice case.

“And I’m telling you this is a bilateral cut to the optic nerve, Josefina.”

“The microabraisons on the left thoracic cavity allowed the victim to bleed out on the table due to the elevated use of blood thinners, ” your voice quiets the pre-med students and you smile in a nonchalant manner. You have read this problem with Yukihira so many times prior at the start of the semester that you were able to recall the prognosis off the top of you head. Being friends with a pre-med major does have its redeeming qualities although you were seen mostly honing your crafts in the art department and this was just the prime time of their study week. 

“Oh! You’re back early,” Yukihira says in a warm tone. She stands at the end of the table in between you Her eyes glazed over as if to communicate that you were about to be formally introduced. You bite your tongue prior to allowing your roommate to clap her hands together as she went naming every member starting with the person on her left who was the aforementioned Josefina. When she had come full circle, her voice trailed off with a small apologetic smile.

“Aaaand this here is my roommate, y/n. To answer your question about the lacquer thinner, I put the bottle on your desk when it arrived last time,” Yukihira made sure to watch everyone’s response. She was more interested in seeing how the third member of her study group (the aforementioned neighbor in 23C) would react. His minuscule smirk was doubly noted, prompting you to fill the few seconds of silence with your own voice. After a brief trip down memory lane, spear headed by your best friend as they took a break from studying for a moment, Yukihira explained after years of being friends you learned about the medical cases for exams via osmosis. You were an unofficial member of the study group since the medical arts building was located near the visual arts department offices on campus. You chose to not let them be pushed back any further especially since their content exam was coming up later that month, so you bid them good luck.

“Don’t mind me,” your brass tone conveyed an even temper at the time. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to head to my room. You guys aren’t the only ones with an exam this week.” You raised your portfolio canister so they could see the poster sized dyed cylinder. Reams of paper filled with sketches made from ink and graphite poked through under the flourescent lights of the kitchen dining room table. The med students along with Yukihira waved and said it was lovely to meet your acquaintance.

With that you made a beeline route to your room, opened the door, and promptly shut the door. You dropped your portfolio canister next to your desk, turned up the volume of the lo-fi radio station playlist on your sound system, grabbed the nearest pillow and let out a muffled shriek to expel the remaining bits of embarrassment your friend threw you in. You were good at smaller group studies, but to be fair, given the fact that your friend was a social butterfly, you mostly seemed to rub off the “talented-artsy, yet focused,” type of woman. That night you cleaned up your outline for your stencil art piece of a fox and a hound for your take on minimalism class which had its peer critique at the end of the week.

You didn’t physically speak to Yukihira for the rest of the week. With both of you burning the midnight oil within the last few days before the exam, you noticed that the number of study group being held in your apartment had become the norm every other day (causing you focus more on a certain individual). Funny thing was he was also doing the same thing...

『from Yukihira: how many times do i have to apologize? You know I didn’t plan on having an emergency study session with iwazumi. He just showed up & wanted to chat. Besides the TA & professor chose to move up the exam date...』

『from y/n: you should of told me earlier before I came home. You know I forgive you... only if you buy me the latest ice cream along with the new Jun Ito novel. I’ll be out there in a minute till make some coffee for us.』

『from Yukihira: Mmkay & thanks. Coffee sounds good right about now anyways.』

--October XX-- Friday, 15:55 (3:55p.m.)

The weekend came through soon enough and on a Friday afternoon with no where to go, you were chilling at the comfort of your own living room. You were quick to thank the test gods for the exam being moved up once you had a proper conversation with Yukihira that morning. She mentioned she was going be out all day making sure she was able to finesse her study guide with her fellow medical study group. Since it was the end of the week, Josefina opted to have a free for all study day at the book store for those who wanted to go over last minute things according to the note yukihira left on your door that morning.

At the time of the day, you were expecting to be alone, curled up with your favorite cup of English Earl Grey Tea and a Lovecraft radio program you downloaded via the student Spotify network. Your phone vibrated and pinged with a notification from the bookstore where Yukihira placed the order for your horror novel to arrive sooner than the estimated timeframe. Because life finds it funny to pull another prank on your clown assery with your little cynical attitude, you were startled when the formal knocker was used.

“Shit!” you said when you clutched your heart as you placed your cup of tea down on the coffee table. As your put two fingers on your neck’s pulse point, you waited a few minutes for your heart rate to calm back down; you stood up and began to make your way down the hallway. Lo and behold, you were greeted by a casually dressed man who was clutching your new novel in his sunkissed hands. 

It takes your brain a few synapses to register that it was Iwazumi who has been taking a liking to coming over for extra study hours with your roommate, but if anyone asked him to reply honestly, he wanted to know more about you. The human body has more than 240 bones, yet the more frequent his visits become, the more he felt himself become accustomed to befriending you both. There were instances where you joined them at the kitchen table glancing at their open notebooks and case studies; you often made tea or coffee depending on the hour of the day. On the days you had come home from the art department, Yukihira was quick to notice how Iwazumi’s usually tense face seemed to visibly relax when you came to prepare your favorite snack (m&ms and buttered popcorn). Your friend was quick to relay a text to his phone, which caused her study partner at the table to become more flustered than he already was. 

Regardless of the various near misses over the next couple of weeks between you and Iwazumi (sometimes it was Yukihira’s fault other times, it was coincidental juxtopostional humour: it has happened twice on Iwazumi’s side when his friends back home noticed he was not at his usual place. [Yukihira called for a mini-study break] However, that didn’t stop you from asking him if he preferred sugar or honey for his tea & all hell broke loose (Hanamaki & Mattsun were cheering him on while Oikawa.exe has dropped the call).

All this back and forth for the past five weeks caused this moment to occur:

“I-Iwa-chan?” your voice went up several octaves before clearing your throat with a cough. “If you’re looking for Yukihira, she’s actually not here at the moment...” 

“To the scientist there is the joy in pursuing truth which nearly counteracts the depressing revelations of truth.”

The audio from your radio program was keeping you company. The disembodied voice coming from the main sound system you helped set up when you first moved into the building with Yukihira quoted Lovecraft as the program continued to serve in the role of filling the silence between you and Iwazumi. The gods really did that, didn’t they? your thoughts were running away with you again, chasing a reality that would be yours--or so you think. 

During that thought hurricane you conjured up, you decided to pause the train of thought for a few minutes. You released your hold on your front door knob as you pulled the door a little wider in order for you to lean against the frame of the front door. Your hair was pulled up in a messy bun (on your days off, you were typically clad in tapered mint green pants and a spare white button down blouse due to laundry day), but it was enough to see the usual semi-talkative and stoic demi-god of a neighbor wear such an embarrassed expression. You pretended to not hear the barely audible, “woah,” that escaped his mouth prior to him holding up the book to you. 

“Did the mail carrier drop it off to your box again?” you ask taking the book in your hands. “Sorry about that. You can come in if you want.” 

You were quick to notice that something caught your arm in an attempt to stop you from walking. When you chose to not try to pry yourself away from Iwazumi’s hold, he took it as a sign to bend himself to your ear and say the following in a powerfully low tone: “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t looking for her?” 

“Yes,” you say in a timid manner, yet it was paired with a curt nod. You both had the tenacity to swat away any lingering negative thoughts.

Iwazumi took this moment to turn you around to face him by the arm he held you with. His smile disappeared when he let your arm go and instead moved his hand to hold yours with his opposite hand, he pulled the door shut behind him. You were probably too proud to admit this aloud, nonetheless, you liked the way Iwazumi’s firm grip felt in your hand; his were rough and calloused as much as yours were from years of honing your independent crafts. You gave him a kind smile before your neighbor decided to take advantage of the fact that the other person in your apartment wasn’t home; you squeezed his hand slightly and he let your hand go. 

You placed the Jun Ito novel on the kitchen counter motioning for Iwazumi to meet you there. Your kettle was still warm, however you made a cheeky joke to your newly acquired friend. (Perhaps this was Yukihira’s plan, you think). You reached into the dishwasher and was about to pour him a cup of tea, yet you couldn’t help but make a small joke at his expense for holding your hand so intently. 

“For the record, if you wanted to hold my hand, you could have done so earlier,” you mention stifling a laugh, pouring the steaming water into the mug. Iwazumi mumbled something about how he liked the way your hand fit, yet you chose to throw caution to the wind and quickly planted short kiss on his cheek when you extended the cup toward him after placing the tea strainer in it. 

With one hand on yours and the other was wrapped around the ceramic mug,. Your kindness was always something Iwazumi found alluring. You might not have been in the same course of study as him or Yukinira, yet you were good finding the beauty in the mundane. A few of your pieces of work were hung around the apartment and from his line of sight, your dedication to your craft was something to be admired.With every sip he took a sip to deflect from the way his thoughts were heading into uncharted territories; OIkawa, Mattsun, and even Makki were the ones more verbose on love & conquest during the days of their you:

“You’re always over at your neighbors’ place, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa teased. 

“I wonder what his reason is,” Makki muses. “Mattsun thinks it’s a girl. Typical.”

Makki also noticed one of your sophomore symposium art pieces hanging behind the place where Iwazumi was sitting at the time of their weekly video call. Your avant-garde view of  viewing the world was enough to set the sky amethyst hues. California does have it’s moments of striking beauty and somehow Iwazumi found it hard to keep to a straight face around his friends. His expression was usually hardened or bold, but today you sat across from him at the beginning of the call, reading up on the use of gold leaf detail work for your art restoration classes. Across the myriad of scattered medical books and various notes that were pertaining to another medical case were a tell that their friend was clearly not alone. You glance up at him quietly, a minute smile formed between you two; you write on a spare piece of paper the word, “friends” to which he nodded. 

“Aww, is our little ace growing soft on us?” Oikawa’s whining was something you often heard Yukihira describe after nights like these.(She usually hung out in your room as you were placing the final touches of your latest art assignment. This month was dedicated to historic downtown with a twist of horror: modern mania & the ruiner of man. Right now, you didn’t mind the shared space of the dining room while Yukihira was out on a grocery run at the time the call was initiated.)

“Shut your mouth Shittykawa,” Iwazumi barks. His dark eyes hardened like stone and that was when Makki let out a wicked grin. 

“I owe Mattsun 500 yen,” Makki chuckled. 

“Holy shit,” Oikawa’s eyes bounced between his best friends and let out a low whistle. “if this woman is capable of such an amazing feat, ask her if she has a friend [for me].”

Iwazumi ended the call right then and there. He didn’t expect his heart to be beating so irratically when you walked room in your house attire for a moment to make yourself a cup of the same Earl Grey Tea. The hazy lights emitting from your room blended effortlessly with the flourescent ones in the kitchen; each beam clung to your body in such away Iwazumi was glad neither of his friends witnessed the moment he fell in love with California and all that came with it. 

This afternoon was a different story as you liked the way Iwazumi allowed his natural blush to bubble to the surface of his cheeks and you could swear you saw a fraction of the high school volleyball ace shine through. The sunlight danced around the stainless steel details of the kitchen where you shared secrets, recipes, and drinks with your best friend. His free hand chose to move away from the counter finding its resting place under your chin. The cup of tea Iwazumi held earlier was placed next to the stove on the coaster by the sink. 

You steady your breathing right before you felt Iwazumi’s breath on your cupid’s bow; his lips pressed against yours gingerly as though he felt his brain light up and catch a fire he needed to not run away from; everything he wanted to know about you was answered as soon as your hands cup his face. I think I like this, your conscience is egging you on to pursue his touch for a while longer. It was a silent acknowledgement of the other’s presence in the present moment. 

“Hm,” you hear him hum in mutual amusement when you return his kiss. The pads of his fingers trace the highest points of your face teasingly. He wanted answers to the questions your lips asked. When you two separate for a moment, you realize you might have been too forward, but when you move your hands away from his face only to hug him in a loose embrace, you couldn’t help the next words from posing a question.

“Do you want to kiss me again?” your coquettish tone made Iwazumi’s answer very apparent as you suddenly took into account the last couple of weeks and the way both of you came to enjoy each other’s company during study group hours at either your place as the primary location or the cafe down the road from the apartment complex. (Iwazumi’s frequent visits weren’t for tutoring necessarily, about a majority of the time it was to see you as an added bonus). 

Iwazumi did not have to be told twice; he enveloped you in his strong arms, he hoisted you up from under your knees and placed you a top the counter with gentle assertive force. Your legs wrapped around his fit waist as you gripped his biceps for leverage prior to letting the old ace prove his strength by placing you on top of the graphite counter like a doll. 

“Comfortable?” Iwazumi’s expression was more seductive than profound.

“Very,” you reply as you unwind your legs from his body. “Where were we?”

Your hands wrapped around his neck before pulling him close to you again. A smug smile cut across both of your faces for a brief moment until your lips hovered over his for the second time. This time, you let him kiss you the way you knew he had been meaning to since he showed up at your door less than fifteen minutes prior book in hand. When Iwazumi kissed you at the current moment, the world crumbled and fell away; it was somehow comforting in a way that words would not compare to. His actions listened to the way you were setting the pace with the same tenacity as he showed you. The scent of his sandalwood conditioner mixed well with your ocean scented dry shampoo. 

Your eyes were still closed when you felt your hands card through his ever-present spiky hair. His right hand rested below your ear, using the pad of his thumb and forefinger to caress your cheek and jawline again. You feel him smile against your own lips when you nipped the corner of his mouth playfully. You break apart long enough for your partner in the kitchen to began to sneakily undoing your top two buttons of your blouse to press his lips against your exposed skin. You let out a whimper in the heat of the moment the second his lips began to leave a trail of reverberating echoes in the simplest of ways securing his hold on your soul that very day.

“Beautiful girl,” Iwazumi murmurs as his eyes met yours when he was done having his fun. His voice was cautious, but when his arms began to hover over your own, you felt your heart rate speed up right as he told you this: “Tell me, what other sounds can you make for me?” 

“Is that a challenge?” you retort, your hands disappearing under his hoodie to feel the fabric of his undershirt. Your hand stopped roaming atop of his chest; he was liking this. You could tell by the way he was taunting you with his smirk. “Because I was wondering the same thing. Do you want me to remove my hand?”

“No.”

Your hands could have been made of branding tools and Iwazumi wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. He chuckled at your question before you brought him down to your level and your lips met again. The sound he made upon impact was as though you broke him yet healed him at the same time; time was on your side for this one and you proved he wasn’t the only monster in the kitchen. There was a hunger there behind every kiss you let him have; you were smiling in the between long enough to feel his heart beat faster through the fabric of his undershirt.

Your hands automatically removed themselves from his shirt and were found holding on to the aglet of the drawstrings from the hoodie he was wearing. Iwazumi kissed your fingers before proceeding with posing a question to you.

“Just so we’re clear,” your voice was bold and daring. It was one of the many things he liked about you both in and out of campus grounds. The small details was what Iwazumi liked the most and the subtle tells of how you, Yukihira, and even the other members of the study group didn’t make him feel so alone like when he first arrived to California to study.

“Whatever this is between you and I, does it mean we’re...together?” 

You make a sign in the air with your palms up and point between you and him. Iwazumi clears his throat as he taps his lips to tease you and that was when he saw it: a younger version of you covered in sidewalk chalk in your neighborhood (much the same as you saw reflections of the former ace/vice captain).

“If you’ll let me take you to the Monster Movie marathon on Monday,” he answered when he linked his right hand digits with your left and you capture his lips again on your own volition. Your ears perked up at this, you drop the string you played with and patted his chest with a light rapt. 

“Eager to make me your girlfriend aren’t you?” You laugh and Iwazumi furrowed his brows, but you silence his worries in one swift and simple move: you kiss him with the intent of either being his salvation or his torment, either way Iwazumi was not complaining. The girl who loves to read about Lovecraftian monsters and the boy who was a monster chaser shared a love as unique as themselves: like a secret they each wanted to keep  behind closed doors.

His only vice was the fact that his social call was coming to an end and every ounce of his well being was fighting to stay here with you. You back down for a moment only to showcase your best attempt at a flattering smile to match his own. Iwazumi would never let you know this at the time, but seeing that smile on your face made his list of top three things he found most precious in the world. This wasn’t a crush anymore was the proper conclusion you both concluded. 

“Meet at your place at 7:30,” you suggest. Iwazumi released your hand from his to step back as you hopped down from the kitchen counter you made a seat of. 

“I’ll see you then ‘Ms. Lovecraft’.” The nickname he bestowed upon you was one that made the butterflies come back in a flurry; this was the start of something special, but you didn’t know it at this point in time that the name will be used to describe your affinity for Iwazumi’s unyielding devotion to you (the seeds were planted in both of your hearts and the two of you waited for them to bloom).

Iwazumi made his way back toward the hallway and faced your apartment’s front door again. You refastened both buttons he undid prior to reaching for the door knob. 

“For what it’s worth,” your not-so-innocent tone in your voice begins to come through. His darkened eyes observe you undo your top knot and shook your shoulder-length hair to reveal the fullness of your wavy locks. You place your hand on his wrist and the other was on the door knob. He stopped you from opening the door with a softened glance; pressing his lips lightly on your brow bone. 

“I really like it when you come over Iwazumi. Thank you for dropping off the book.” You tap your fingers thoughtfully on your lips as a silent form of thanking him for the other part outside of the tangible order.

“Hajime, y/n,” he whispers his given name in your ear in order to get one last rile out of you before kissing your temple, and you could swear you could hear your heart beat in your ears. “Call me that from now on, ok?”

“Ok,” you swiftly reply. “Only if you continue to call me Lovecraft, haha.”

Iwazumi takes his leave when he thinksof how the next time he sees you, it’ll be filled with magic, mayhem, and the movie playing in his heart was one he would like to share with you for as long as it takes.

You rush to your room to retrieve your cell phone and immediately text Yukihira who was in the middle of her break between classes:

『from y/n: i have a date on monday night. the book came btw. thanks yukihira』

『from Yukihira: iwazumi asked you to go out with him, didn’t he? have fun and remember to not do anything i wouldn’t do. ;) 』

『from y/n: of course. and even if we did, i wouldn’t even hear the end of it from you. you’d might have an easier time talking to iwazumi than me, let’s be honest.』

『from Yukihira: (n˘v˘•)¬ oh you know me so well. see you later tonight.』

—November XX, 14:43 (2:43pm): 

First dates & a glimpse into their social medias (ft. Iwazumi, Babs (y/n), & Yukihira)

Iwazumi credit

Suffice to say that Mondays became your favorite day after this kiss...😌

Bonus:

Instagram posts from our UCIrvine trio ft. Iwazumi, Yukihira, & Y/N-san

[imagine-avengers]

Bakery Part One- Bucky Barnes Series

1/5  All other parts can be found on my masterlist once they come out!

Right in the heart of Brooklyn sat a small little café called The Pastry Corner. It was owned and operated by Melody Rogers and frequented by her brother, Steve Rogers. The café was small, not able to sit more than twenty people. The exterior was a pastel sea-foam that was painted over the old stoned making it pop out from the other businesses in the area. The inside had worn white brick everywhere besides where the photo wall was, which was where Steve Rogers and his friends sold their art. Walking inside you smell the pastries, bread, and coffee, a sense of comfort washes over you whilst you take in the rustic interior along with the array of plants, which were Wanda’s doing.

The café was unique in the sense that you didn’t get to order a specific drink, the barista, Natasha, was a wizard at reading what people would like and there was never a complaint with their order. Then there was Wanda, the cashier who’s friendly smile kept customers coming back for more. But the real reason people came back, was for the pastries and baked goods that Melody made fresh daily, from breads to cakes, Melody made them all with the help of her friend Maria, whom also made breakfast, lunch sandwiches, which were a big hit. The bakery was open everyday of the week, except for one, Sunday, which the group all spent with their families, occasionally Melody would go in and prepare the bread for the Monday.

The day started as usual, Melody had gotten to the café at four in the morning and began her routine of baking. Around six, Maria showed up to help, and six thirty came Natasha whom prepared the coffee and finally Wanda at six forty-five when she began opening everything for seven. At seven on the dot they were open and had their normal regulars whom came in before work or class to grab a pastry and coffee for breakfast. Then the eight-am rush came of everyone going to work for nine, after the rush it would slow down until around ten which is when everyone began trickling in for lunch before the lunch rush at twelve. After the lunch rush was over and the last of the pastries were in their displays and Maria was cleaning the kitchen, Melody would head behind the counter, her apron full of flour, her hair in a messy bun with more flour, but a smile adored her face as she helped serve customers their pastries all while Natasha was preparing coffee orders.

“Your croissants are really the best in Brooklyn.” A regular, Anna, stated as Melody bagged the pastry.

“Well we try our best. Have a good day.” Anna left as Melody glanced towards the clock. One thirty, Steve, Sam, and Bucky would soon be coming in with some new art pieces they had made so Melody moved behind the counter and began bagging pastries for the trio, all of their favorites before asking Maria to make the three their lunch. Just as Melody went to ask Natasha to make coffee, the trip came in.

“Hey Mel.” Steve greeted his sister as the three came in, all covered in paint and carrying different canvas’ and photos.

“Hey guys.” Melody responded cheerily as Natasha began their coffee before Melody began making Steve’s dragon-fruit lemonade.

“I see the three of you were busy today.” Natasha spoke as she set Sam and Bucky’s coffee’s on the counter.

“Always are Nat, can’t seem to keep these paintings on the wall.” Sam spoke to his longtime friend as he was hanging the slightly wet canvas on the wall.

“Mhmm sure Sam.” Natasha responded just as Steve finished hanging his own paintings and moved towards her and kissed his girlfriend of five years, Sam doing the same with Wanda. The three grabbed their drinks and lunches before falling into a spot by the window, the girls continuing to work, each one getting a break.

“Pietro is bringing the new books in today right?” Melody asked as she was helping a customer.

“Yeah he should be here around three.” Wanda responded whilst she rung up a customer.

“Fantastic. I’m gonna head upstairs and grab some of the old ones that I stole.” Wanda’s brother owned a local bookstore and the two owners would often trade coffee and pastries for books for the patrons to read.

As Melody walked past the art wall towards the stairs which led to her office, she stopped and stared at a photo, one that Bucky had taken. The photo itself was simple, but Melody recognized it immediately, it was a black and white of a woman sitting in a window with a cup of coffee, Melody recognized it because it was her in her apartment. Melody hadn’t been seeing James ‘Bucky’ Barnes for long, six months at most, and she hadn’t expected him to take a photo of her doing something so mundane. The time that Melody and Bucky had known each other he only took photos of places, animals, and inanimate objects, never a person. Melody stopped staring at the photo and looked towards Bucky, who’s eyes were already on her. Tilting her head towards the photo with a smile, Bucky grinned but looked away as Steve spoke knowing that if Steve knew he was dating his sister, he’d flip.

 “Pietro.” Melody greeted the blonde a few hours later. “Thank you for the books, they were lovely.” Melody handed off the small box as Pietro finished setting up the new books on their display by the photo wall.

“I’m glad you enjoyed them. Now tell me about this photo.” Melody looked up and knew which photo he was referring to.

“Uh no comment.” She shrugged.

“Melody, you and I both know that that’s you and James Barnes doesn’t take photos of woman.” Melody rolled her eyes.

“Mel someone’s asking for you!” Wanda called causing Melody to give Pietro a small smile.

“That’s my cue.” Walking to the counter Melody was met with an older woman whom looked less than pleased. “Hi, I’m Melody, what can I do for you?”

“I said I wanted to speak with the owner.” The woman stated snidely.

“Yes ma’am, I understand that,” The woman cut Melody off as she spoke.

“If you understand than why isn’t the owner in front of me?”

“Ma’am, I am the owner. Now what seems to be the problem?” Melody was slowly losing her patience, Steve and taken Nat out to get something different for lunch and Sam had left to the studio to finish a piece, leaving only Bucky with Melody and Wanda, Maria having left twenty minutes prior.

“My problem is that I asked for an earl grey tea and this is green tea.” The woman held her cup up.

“I’m so sorry, I’d be happy to make you a new,”

“She doesn’t want a new cup.” A man whom Melody assumed was her husband came up next to her. “We want a refund and a dessert.” Melody stared at them.

“I can give you a refund or remake your tea but I can’t give you a free dessert.” Melody spoke evenly as she glanced to the side where Bucky had been taking photo’s out the window, but was now staring at her, waiting to step in.

“That’s insane! We want compensation and a free dessert!” The man argued as Melody held her hand up towards him trying to calm him as other patrons began to stare, the same time she did, Bucky showed up next to the man.

“There a problem here?” Melody looked towards him.

“Yes, this bitch is trying to say she’s the owner and refuses to give us what we want.” The man spoke looking to Bucky whom rose an eyebrow.

“Firstly, she is the owner. Secondly, she’s not a bitch, she’s a human being doing her job. Now she offered to remake your wife’s tea and even give it to her for free, which she doesn’t have to do. But what she really isn’t doing is giving you a pastry for free. Wanda give them the amount for the tea.” Wanda handed the money to Bucky who shoved it into the mans hand. “Now get out.” The man stared at Bucky but he and his wife left as Melody gave him a smile.

“Thank you.” Bucky nodded before grabbing his things and moving to the counter where he sat until five when the two girls began closing for the night, Melody already having gotten the doughs started for the following day. “Go home Wanda.” Melody spoke as she began cleaning the counters. “I can finish here.”

“Are you sure?” Wanda asked but she was already pulling on her coat.

“Yes, Bucky’ll help me lock up. Go before Sam call’s and complains that I’m hogging you.” Wanda smiled at the two and bid them goodnight before disappearing out the door. “Can you grab those mugs?” Melody asked pointing towards the mugs that sat on the tables by the door.

“Of course.” Bucky moved and grabbed both mugs before going and depositing them in the kitchen to be cleaned the following morning. “You gotta get some more help in here babe.” Bucky stated as he noticed the disarray of the kitchen. “The four of you are going to go insane.”

“We already are my love.” Melody spoke as she entered the kitchen. “I hired two new people last week, they start tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah? Does that mean you’ll be spending less time here and have more time for me?” Bucky teased wrapping his arms around his girlfriends waist.

“I wish, unfortunately not, I can’t leave someone else to make the pastries. But Tony and Pepper recommended the kids, they were interns for him, said MJ always made the best coffee so she’s gonna learn from Nat and Peter is gonna work the counter with Wanda and dishes when needed.”

“What about you and Maria, you need the help and you’re financially stable that you can afford someone.” Bucky spoke as Melody moved out of his arms and started the dishes.

“I dunno James.” She spoke softly. “I like baking, hell I love it, this place is my baby, I can’t just let anyone into the kitchen.”

“Baby, what about Nebula, you said she was a wizard in the kitchen, even if she comes in for the afternoons, give you a break.” Melody thought about it a moment before looking back at her boyfriend.

“I’ll consider calling her if you tell me when you took that picture.” Bucky smirked.

“The night you agreed to go out with me, you didn’t want to do anything fancy so we ate pastries and Maria’s sandwiches in your apartment, you had just made a coffee and looked peaceful.”

“Don’t you think Steve is gonna say something?” Bucky shook his head.

“Nah, can’t see your face, he’ll probably think it’s some girl I slept with before.”

“James.” Melody groaned and turned towards him. “He’s going to notice because you never photograph people like how Sam only paints birds and scenery whilst Steve only draws people and animals. They’ll notice that mister still life and scenery has a photograph of a girl, much less a pretty girl whom looks exactly like me.” Bucky just shook his head.

“We will cross that bridge when it comes, okay? And it isn’t for sale, it’s actually for you, figured we’d leave it up a couple days and then you could take it home. Now come on, let’s get you cleaned up so I can take my girlfriend out to dinner.” Just as Bucky spoke the bell in front went off.

“Girlfriend?” Natasha spoke as Melody turned to her.

“Nat.”

“I forgot my wallet earlier, but this is so worth having to come back.” Nat stated, her wallet in her hand.

“Nat.” Melody moved towards her brothers girlfriend. “You can’t tell Steve,”

“Steve would flip.” Natasha stated. “He would kill you Buck.” Bucky shifted on his feet.

“I know that, why do you think we kept it to ourselves? We both know that Steve already stated that Melody was off limits,”

“Wait he what?” Melody asked.

“Uh oh.” Natasha spoke.

“He sorta said we weren’t allowed to date you.” Bucky stated as Melody nodded tossing Bucky the keys.

“Lock up, I’m going to have a few choice words with my brother. He at home?” Natasha nodded and Elizabeth ripped her apron off before storming out. Melody stormed the two blocks towards her brothers apartment and pushed the door open not knocking, causing him to jump from his spot on the couch with Sam, the two watching TV.

“Mel?”

“How dare you! How dare you tell your friends that I was off limits! Who the hell do you think you are? Did I tell Natasha you were off limits? No! How dare you try to get involved in my love life! I will date whoever the hell I want and if that includes your friends, then fine!” Melody stated as Steve stood there staring at her before she turned to leave, stopping at the door. “By the way, I’m dating Bucky, might be fucking him too but that’s not your business.” Melody slammed the door and made her way back to the bakery but Bucky stood outside Steve’s building.

“What did you do?” He asked leaning against the side of his motorcycle, arms crossed.

“I’m sick of him trying to control my life Buck.” She mumbled moving over to where he was standing. Bucky dropped his arms as Melody wrapped hers around him, him doing the same.

“You brother is going to kill me, you know that, right?” Bucky asked softly as Melody shook her head.

“He won’t do shit James.” She spoke to him. “You locked up, right?” She asked pulling out of his arms.

“I did.” Bucky slipped the keys into the pocket of Melody’s jeans. “Come on, I’ll drop you off at home.” Bucky grabbed the helmet from his bike and handed it to her.

“I thought we were gonna get dinner?” She asked softly, putting the helmet on her head.

“No, best not to, Steve’s gonna end up showing up at my apartment in about a half hour.” He spoke as Melody nodded slightly. “But I’ll make it up to you.”

“Fine.” She spoke. Bucky climbing on the bike, she climbing on behind him. Bucky dropped her off, the two standing at his bike kissing for a minute before Melody began backing towards her apartment. “You sure you won’t come in?”

“No, I should be going. Looking forward to that confrontation with your brother.” Melody nodded.

“Fine. Call me afterwards, okay?” Melody entered her own apartment and made herself a small dinner. Melody spent the rest of the night inside her apartment, no word from Bucky at all.

-

The next morning came faster than Melody would have liked. Waking up to her phone going off at three in the morning after falling asleep on the couch sucked. Melody groaned and turned her phone off before heading to shower and get ready for work. Arriving at the bakery, Melody opened up the back and began her daily routine of baking. Noon came around, and someone asked about a particular photo on the wall, it was of the New York city streets.

“I’ll have to call the artist, give me about five minutes.” She spoke at the counter before moving to the back and pulling out her phone, ringing Bucky. The phone rang and rang, eventually Melody left him a message explaining someone wanted to talk about a photo before she went back to the customer. “Unfortunately the artist didn’t pick up, but if you leave your contact information I can have them call you.” The customer did that and Melody slid it inside the cash register drawer.

“You okay?” Natasha asked around four, when Melody was staring at her phone.

“Huh?” Melody looked up at her. “Oh, it’s just,” Sighing Melody ran a hand through her hair. “Bucky was supposed to call me last night and he never did, he’s still not answering me.” She spoke softly.

“Steve stopped by there not long after you left his apartment.” Spoke Natasha as she made a peppermint coffee. “He got back around eleven, that’s probably why Bucky didn’t call, he knows you go to sleep early to be here.” Melody nodded slightly.

“I guess. I’m going to go clean up in the kitchen.” Heading back, Melody did just that. At five thirty, Natasha and Wanda both left and Melody continued cleaning before heading out at a quarter to seven, stepping outside she found Bucky leaning against his bike. “Hi.” She said softly before locking up and turning back to him.

“Hey.” Bucky didn’t meet her eyes for a moment.

“Uh, did you get my messages?” She asked, fiddling with the keys in her hand.

“I uh, yeah.” Bucky nodded looking up at her and stood from leaning against his bike, Melody stepped closer to him. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” Melody stopped moving and stared at him.

“What? But, everything was fine yesterday.” Her voice dropped. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened Melody.” Bucky shoved his hands in his pocket. “I don’t want to lead you on, I don’t see this going anywhere.” Melody nodded.

“Steve got to you.” She stated.

“This has nothing to do with Steve,”

“It has everything to do with him James!” She raised her voice. “We were fine until he talked to you. After that you stopped answering my calls and my texts.” Her voice dropped as it broke.

“I stopped answering because I don’t want to lead you on Melody. We’re done.” Melody nodded, tears falling down her face.

“Fine. Fine.” She mumbled.

“I’ll have Steve get my photos,”

“Don’t bother.” She spoke. “Leave them, Nat will deal with the transactions from now on, happy? You won’t have to deal with me at all.” She moved past him and headed to where her car sat.

“Don’t be like that Mel,” Melody turned around and glared at him.

“Be like what? Cold? I think you deserve for me to be like this James.” Melody shook her head. “You say you didn’t want to lead me on, but what have you been doing for almost six months?” She asked. “Tell Steve you were a good little boy.” She hissed turning back to where she was parked. Melody sat in her car a moment before starting it and driving home.

This is part of a five part series. Thank you all for reading! 

Until next time my lovelies!

[serahsanguine]

A Gillvony Story - The Text That Changed Everything (Ch, 2)

The X-Files RPF (Gillian Anderson & David Duchovny)

Rating; Explicit

Chapter 2 of ?

Tagging; @skullsmuldon

A03;  link

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

Chapter 2: A Voice

He was still deep inside her when they heard Piper's voice. They soon heard footsteps coming up the stairs. 

“Shit David” and she pushed him off and he slipped out of her and fell off the bed with a thump. 

Gillian quickly wrapped her dressing down around herself and opened and closed the bedroom door behind her. 

“Hi, Piper what are you doing home so early from work?” 

“I was feeling sick why?” she looked at her mother with questioning eyes. 

“No reason” Gillian answered defensively.

“Mum, what's going on?” 

“Nothing,”  she said clipently. 

“So why are you standing in front of your bedroom door?” Piper walked over to her mother's door pushing past her and opening it. 

“Shit” Gilian muttered under her breath. 

There David stood in just his boxers, his hair all over the place his skin still flush, the smell of sex heavy in the air all he could come up with was, “Hi Piper.”

“Fuck,” Gillian said again.  

Piper closed the door and faced her mother. “Mum you said that this wouldn’t happen again, you promised even.” it wasn’t anger radiating through her daughter's voice it was disappointment. “You’re happy why would you sabotage that?” 

While that was going on David grabbed the rest of his clothes putting them on including his shoes and placed them on his feet waiting for the mother daughter to exchange to be over. He soon heard Piper's door slam shut before exiting Gillians' bedroom. 

“I should go” he looked at her and could see she was on the verge of tears. He was going to say something else but thought better of it. He walked to her wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry,” he said truthfully.

“I know” she replied simply back. She didn’t know when David grabbed his clothes but she was glad. 

With her still wrapped up in his arms he let her go smoothly and grabbed her hand, “We will talk ok if you want or … we can … it’s up to you Gill.”

“Yes” she let go of his hand and he disappeared down her stairs and out the front door. Her legs dropped to the floor and she wept. They had really done it this time hadn’t they. Not only ruining her relationship but his as well. Just because there was always more than an attraction between them. 

A few hours later Piper came out of her room to find Gillian still in the same place. 

“Mom come on get up let’s go make some tea.”

“I.. err..”

“Come on” she grabbed her lightly under the arm and took her down the stairs and putting the kettle on getting two cups out of the cupboard placing them on the counter placing the earl grey tea bag inside.

“Mum are u ok?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Talk to me please” Piper pleaded.

“I don’t know how it happened” Gillian whispered. 

The kettle boiled and Piper poured the water then took the cups and sat next to her mother at the breakfast table.  

“You love him mum, and you never quite got over that.” 

“But I’m happy with Peter”

“But does he gives you that spark the one that ignites you and makes you feel butterflies in your stomach, and want to melt into a puddle around your feet.

“No, but I love him, I'm not getting any younger. I’m happy I'm content.”

“Sometimes that’s not enough”  she took a sip of her drink.

“But.” 

“But nothing mum.”

“When did you get so wise?”

“My mum taught me well” she laughed trying to pick up the mood.

“That she did” she laughed back and they sat in contemplation drinking their tea. 

---------------------------------------------------------xx

Meanwhile

He had really screwed up this time, hadn’t he. Not only his relationship with Monique but Gillian’s relationship with Peter as he stood there in the pouring rain waiting for his taxi to arrive to take him to his hotel room. He realized he had left his jacket in Gillian's house but dare not go back. 

The taxi arrived and he was soon back at his hotel room, he looked outside at the sky grey and cloudy as well as muggy and horrid. He stared out at the scene in front of him watching the rain pitter patter against the window he didn’t even turn on the lights. He could still smell her on his skin and clothes could still feel her mouth on his. He could still feel him inside her and he instantly got hard again, she never even realized what she did to him even from a thought.

He took off his soaking wet shirt and as sad as it was, placing it to his nostrils and with the other he palmed his erection through his jeans. He groaned at the sensation he was causing himself. His mind filled with thoughts of her and moments in between filming back when they were young and unaffected by their worries. This one moment had stuck to him like glue, especially with the rain outside. 

  They had just filmed a scene for one of their episodes called The Rain King and in this scene, they got soaked to the bone over and over again for the best camera angle. When   Kim Manners called cut both they had ran to her trailer their clothes sticking to their skin. It was all innocent at first he stripped off his clothes and grabbed a towel from her bathroom. When he turned around there was a look in Gillian’s eye that he had become all too familiar with.

She stood in front of him in just a bra and panties, they were lace and she knew they were his favourite she raked her nails down his toned chest, his skin flushed in a row of goosebumps he was immediately standing at attention. He looked down at her, her eyes dark lustful and full of naked desire. This was one of the times she didn't want to be kissed it was purely to relive a need, an itch as they say. 

He unbuttoned his jeans and stepped out of them, next to go was his boxers he lay down on the hotel bed his shirt next to his head her smell still invading his nose as he carried on the memory. 

She kissed his neck and worked down his abdomen laying little kisses and suckles leaving little red blotches in her wake. He tried to reach out to run his fingers down her body or through her hair but she simply moved his had away and shook her head. With just a towel covering his lower half she undid the knot letting the towel hit the floor and she took all of him in her mouth. No warning and no ifs ands or buts,  the sight of Gillian, red hair bobbing up and down on his cock was something he could never get used to.   

His hand wrapped around his cock pumping slowly remembering the rhythm she took and matching it with his own hand.

She swirled her tongue around his girth back and forth up and down. He could feel the back of her throat with his tip. He was always impressed when she deep throated him. She brought her hand up to play with his balls caressing and squashing and letting go making him mad with desire over and over again he was so close but he didn’t want to cum without her not this time she liked her rules so did he. 

His pace with his hand quickened but still going steady as the memory continued playing in his mind. 

He stepped back and she looked at him confused, he took her hands and turned her around bending her over the small kitchen table in full view of the trailer window so if anyone were to peer in they would see what they were doing. He pushed her down undoing her bra and throwing into one side before pushing her panties to the side before running his tongue through her dripping wet folds. 

“Christ Dav…”

He placed two fingers in her tunnel pumping rough hard and unforgiving, now it was his time to play. 

She threw her head back in pleasure as he felt her climax come to her scream emanated beyond the walls of her trailer. He didn’t give her time to recover or time to come back down reality he grabbed his member and shoving it into her, his hands either side of her hands their fingers interlocked as he thrust his body into hers as he kissed her neck. 

“Shit….. Ahhhh.”

He knew she was close and so was he.

Hia hand pumping faster and faster there was no need for lube he was leaking precum and he used that spreading that around his girth and his hand glided across his skin. 

He untethered his hand and reached down to her clit rubbing circling gliding his legs pumping harder and harder. 

“Look outside they all know what we're doing but no one will say a word. You so fucking hot Gill you make me feel alive.” He kept rambling in her ear and it didn’t matter “you laugh when you say my name and how I grab your hip so mean.”

She screamed his name as he pumped inside her and she became undone her body convulsing and clutching around him he pumped inside her a few times before he himself came undone inside her screaming her name to match.

He lay there on the hotel bed his legs spread his cock full his climax hit him he screamed her name into an empty room his cum flowing out of him in hot sticky sprouts covering not only his hand but his stomach and the bedsheets as well. 

He came out of his haze when he heard the familiar chirk of his ringtone. He stood grabbing some tissue from his nightstand he looked at his phone and realized it was Monique and answered. 

“Hi Dave how's London treating you?” she said in her chipper way, how he loathed when she said his name like that. 

“Fine thank you, Monique, I’m just tired from the meeting. ”

“Ahh I see, did you see her then?” she said angrily. 

“No, why would you say that she is in a relationship and has been for years” he bit back in response. 

“Never stopped you before has it?”

He couldn’t deal with her childishness at the moment, "Well guess what? I don't give a shit what you think" and hung up. 

He threw his phone on the bed not giving a second thought about his girlfriend. He really should break up with her it's not like he actually cared for her anymore his thoughts were always full of Gillian and that would never change. 

He found his suitcase and changed into a clean pair of boxers and got into bed and fell asleep tomorrow is another day and problem. 

[boushh2187]

Home for Christmas - Rumbelle Secret Santa 2019

Title: Home for Christmas

Author: boushh2187

Rumbelle Secret Santa 2019 Gift for @crankynerdgirl

Prompt: jealous lovers, miscommunication, happy ending

Fandom/Pairing: Once Upon a Time / Rumbelle

Word Count: 5,798

Summary: A first Christmas together in Storybrooke is complicated by innocent misunderstandings. Non-Magical Storybrooke AU.

Author’s Note: To my giftee: Thank you so much for this prompt. I had a blast writing it! This was your choice of Plan B! :) I had two ideas and you chose this one. I hope you like it! It was an honor being your Santa! Happy Holidays!!

Home for Christmas

Mr. Gold’s Pawn Shop was quiet as he worked carefully on an old pocket watch. He rather enjoyed working on and restoring these old timepieces. There was something satisfying about seeing the hands move and hearing the ticking sound on a watch that was once still and quiet. Just one more adjustment and the job would be done. Raymond Gold looked at the clock on the wall. Just in time. Gold chuckled to himself and set the correct time on the pocket watch. His daily guest would be arriving soon. He might just have enough time to polish the watch before she arrived. 

He took the polish and cloth and began cleaning up the watch. He had a nice, velvet lined box to put it in, and he would leave the wrapping up to his customer. This was to be a holiday gift. Storybrooke was full of townsfolk buying gifts and decorating for the winter holidays. He couldn’t believe how the time flew by. A common saying among people, he knew, but it was different this year for him. This year, something had changed. He couldn’t believe his luck, and how much time had gone by since the fortunate moment when his life had taken a turn for the better. 

He thought back to that stormy day in early June. It had been six months since Belle French had pushed the door open of his shop and jumped in, the wind blowing in behind her... 

The gust of wind pushed at the petite woman, nearly knocking her over as she entered. Belle slammed the door shut with both hands and stood in front of it, dripping wet and trying to pull wet strands of her brown hair out of her eyes. Her light blue rain coat had blown open and the pretty spring dress she wore underneath was soaked. In a mere moment there was a puddle on the floor and she was apologizing profusely for bringing in all the rain water. Gold grabbed a clean and dry towel from the cabinet behind him and went over and handed it to her. He took care not to place his cane on the wet floor, for fear of slipping. “Don’t worry yourself. It’s not a day to be outside!” he reassured her and offered her his arm. She took it with a grateful expression and he led her inside the shop.

“It was lovely before. I was walking on the pier and stopped to talk to someone, and before you knew it the clouds had come in,” she said as she attempted to dry herself off next to the counter. “By the time I came back onto Main Street my umbrella had broken and blown away! Oh look at me, I’m a mess.” Emotion was creeping into her voice. Perhaps she was a bit embarrassed. She needn’t have been. She was always lovely.

“There, there. Come inside the back room. I have more dry towels and you can choose any of the clothes in the shop. Free of charge. I even have a hair dryer in here. I’ll make us some tea and you can ride out the storm in here.”

Before long she had on some dry clothes and dried her hair and was settled in, sitting across the counter from him and sipping her hot tea. “Mmm, I haven’t had Earl Grey in a while,” she said. “Thank you.”

He nodded and sipped his own cup of tea. They made pleasant small talk, and chatted about various goings on in the town.

“You know, I have decided that people have got you all wrong.”

He chuckled. “Oh? Do tell.”

Instead of going on about what the townsfolk thought of him she looked at him with an honest expression and stated, “Well I won’t say what they think, but I think you’re quite kind. Thank you again for helping me out this afternoon.” She reached out and touched his hand lightly. 

“It was no trouble.” He couldn’t think of what else to say. She was the one who was being kind by not mentioning what the townsfolk thought of him. Some just thought him cold, others mean, and others were plain afraid of him. He was a landlord to many, and more than a few people would come into the shop to pawn their things. He was never a social butterfly, but he knew he had become cold and distant since Milah moved away and took their son with her. It had been five years and he only saw his son twice a year. He was heartbroken, and lonely, but didn’t think there was anything to be done about it.

Belle changed that notion. The next day she arrived around noon with a picnic basket full of food for lunch that they shared for an hour, before she had to return to the library where she worked. She said it was to thank him for his kindness, but they had a lovely time. He enjoyed her company, and she must have enjoyed his because she arrived with lunch once again the following day.  It became a daily occurrence. Every day except Sundays when his shop and the library were closed. She didn’t work on Saturdays yet she arrived for lunch. Sometimes he would provide the food items, and other days she would bring something for them to share. 

Part of him didn’t think that she could possibly be interested in him in any other way except in friendship. He was divorced, with a child already, and much older than she was. He was in his late forties while she had just turned 30. He’d walked in on her birthday gathering at Granny’s earlier that year while he was out collecting rent. He was hardly the ideal partner for someone such as herself. Not to mention that he had a bad ankle and wasn’t able to walk without his cane. Meanwhile, she was beautiful, younger, smarter, friendlier, and there were plenty of younger men in town that would be interested. Yet she spent time with him every day, and he felt that there was a good connection between them. It was something he had never quite felt before.

It would take him two months to finally work up the nerve to ask her over for dinner. He was a good cook, and she agreed that she always enjoyed the lunches that he prepared, some of which were leftovers from the night before. She agreed and came over for dinner one evening in August, and it was morning when he drove her home to her apartment above the library. He had gone and opened up his shop in somewhat of a daze, wondering if it had all been a dream. They had been seeing each other ever since. Belle had even taken to calling him her boyfriend. Imagine that?

The little bell above the front door chimed, and there was the person that had so occupied his thoughts these last few months. Belle was holding the door open with her back and pulling in a medium sized soft sided red wagon. She was dressed for the cold, with a woolen grey coat and hat and boots. She pulled the wagon inside and closed the door behind her. Gold felt the gust of cold wind just at that moment and shivered. 

“It’s so warm in here! Thank goodness!” she exclaimed as she pulled her hat and gloves off. “I bought us lunch from Grannys, and I have a Christmas wreath for your shop and for the house. I already dropped the others off at the Library and at Grannys. Father sends his regards, by the way. He decorated the wreaths extra pretty this year.” She held one up for his approval. It was decorated with a big red ribbon, little red and green gifts, holly, and frosted pine cones.

“It’s very fine,” he said, and smirked. “However, I very much doubt your father sent his regards.”

She placed the wreath on the side counter and pulled the cart to the side. She grabbed the bag from Grannys and came over to him. “Well it was more like a grumble, followed by your name, followed by a grumble. Maybe a swear word or two.” 

“Now that’s more like it,” he responded. Needless to say, her father did not approve.

She came around behind the counter and placed the lunch on top of it. “Well he’s also not happy that I’m staying in Storybrooke and not going with him to visit my aunties in Boston. I’ll be seeing them when they visit in the spring. I’d much rather spend the holidays with you.” She put her arms around his neck. Her coat was freezing.

“You need to take this thing off before it turns me into a popsicle,” he said, and started undoing the buttons of her coat for her.

“Shouldn’t you be used to the cold weather, Mr. Scotsman living in Maine?” she teased as she looked up at him with her blue eyes. He looked back smugly as he undid the buttons.

He helped her take her coat off and draped it around the chair, wasting no time in putting his arms around her and pulling her close. “I do just fine in the cold weather, but I would rather be close to you like this instead of that big old frozen coat.”

“Hey, I happen to like that coat. It was a gift from a very handsome man I know.” She lifted up on her toes and kissed him gently on the lips.

He was caught off guard for a moment because he was the one that had given her that coat. He was always surprised to hear these kinds of words about him. She saw him much differently than he saw himself, that was certain.

“If we continue like this much longer lunch is going to get cold,” she said, in a reluctant tone, and disengaged from his embrace. She started setting out their lunch. “Raymond would you mind if we had brunch at Granny’s tomorrow instead of lunch here?”

“That would be very nice, actually. I look forward to it.” He grinned at her as she set the hot soup in front of him. Perfect for the blustery day.

“Great, I promised Granny and Ruby I would help them decorate early in the morning. Remember I told you how it was my mission this year to help anyone with decorations that needed it? This town is so quaint and beautiful that I think it needs to be as festive as early as possible. It’ll bring in more business for everyone, and it’ll just be lovely! Oh! And I was talking with David Nolan earlier. He was saying how he wished he had some extra help at the animal shelter, to make sure the animals feel cared for and loved this time of year, and he needs help with potential adoptions… Anyway, I told him I would be glad to help. So if you’re ever looking for me in the late afternoons I might be over there helping him.”

She was a whirlwind of excitement this afternoon. “That’s all very kind of you Belle. That’s why everyone loves you, unlike my grumpy self.” He grinned and said it half in jest, but it was true that much of the townsfolk didn’t like him. He didn’t have any real friends.

“Oh stop. You’ve been friendly.”

“Thanks to you it somehow happens at times,” he said with a laugh.

“It does!” she insisted. “David likes you! And Ruby too! She just told me how much more personable you’ve been lately. And Mary Margaret invited us over for the Nolans Christmas Eve party. I hope you’ll want to go with me.”

“Of course,” he reached out and squeezed her hand. “You also said you’d like to help me decorate the house. How does this weekend sound? I’ll close the shop on Saturday. You can spend the weekend with me… if you like.”

She smiled brightly at him. “Yes! On one condition.”

He raised an eyebrow, just as he was filled with joy at her immediate acceptance. They’d never spent a weekend together before.

“We do the same for Christmas and New Year’s weekend. I can’t think of a better way to spend it than cozying up at home with you.”

He was certain he was dreaming, but he nodded in response, because he didn’t trust that words would actually come out of his mouth.

They finished lunch and set out to quickly decorate the shop. She found an old radio and tuned it to a holiday station. They put the wreath on the door, he put the menorah in front of the window, and they placed garland and colored lights around the shop. He also took some time to finish polishing the pocket watch. He handed the watch and the box to her. “What do you think?”

“It looks amazing. Father is going to love it. I’m going to make sure to mention how much care and work you put into it.” 

“He’s going to love it because it’s coming from you.” He was pretty sure that it wouldn’t make much of a difference in how the man thought of him.

*****

The next day he arrived at Granny’s for brunch. The wreath Belle had brought for the diner hung on the door as he opened it. There was garland all along the windows, and lights wrapped around the garland. It had the desired festive effect. 

He scanned the diner for Belle as he stepped inside. It didn’t take long for him to find her. She was perched on top of a ladder placing lights along the top of the windowsill in the back of the diner. She was laughing at something David Nolan said. David was steadying the ladder and handing her the remainder of the lights. She wobbled slightly and he steadied her more securely by holding onto the ladder and placing a hand at the small of her back. 

Raymond Gold felt his entire body tense. At first it was with worry when he saw Belle unsteady on the ladder, and then it was with a twinge of jealousy. He tried to shake it away, but he couldn’t help but feel it. David Nolan was tall, very handsome, very friendly, outgoing, and was with his second wife in less than two years, who was also pregnant with his child. If it wasn’t for that last fact, he would be just the kind of man that Belle should have in her life. She obviously seemed to enjoy his company. They were both smiling and chatting and having a grand time. He had to will himself to move instead of keeping himself standing near the doorway clenching his fists. He was aware that several people, including Granny greeted him, but he said nothing in return. He didn’t even look at them. He kept his eyes on Belle and David as he approached them.

“There!” Belle said, brightly. “All done!” She began an attempt to descend. 

“Looks great, Belle!” David said as he reached up to take Belle’s hand.

Before Gold even knew what he was doing he had stepped up to them and placed his cane right on top of David’s foot, and leaned down hard on it.

David shouted and pulled his foot from under the cane. He hopped on one foot for a moment, and Gold took that time to reach out for Belle to take his hand instead. “Oh I’m so sorry, Mr. Nolan. Are you all right?” 

Belle hopped down off of the ladder. “Oh no, David.”

David waved his arms at them. “It’s OK. It’s OK. Just my big clumsy feet getting in the way as usual!” He laughed through gritted teeth and Gold smirked in satisfaction.

“Yes, it’s a wonder you’ve had two different women in your life in such a short time…” muttered Gold under his breath.

“Raymond!” Belle chided him, quietly and nudged his ribs. David was busy rubbing his foot and apparently didn’t hear.

“I have some ice if you need it!” Granny called from behind the counter as she served a plate to a customer. 

David laughed it off and limped off toward the door. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later, Belle. I have to get to work. Goodbye Mr. Gold.”

“Take care, Mr. Nolan. Again, I’m terribly sorry about your foot.” Gold responded, only half sincere.

“Bye David. See you later. Raymond, why don’t you get us a table while Ruby and I take this ladder to the back.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Gold smiled to himself and went off to see if their favorite booth was free.

*****

That Friday Belle waited outside the Storybrooke Library with a packed bag for the weekend. Raymond picked her up in his black Cadillac sedan. That evening they made their favorite pasta dish, and once the dishes were in the dishwasher, and the table was cleared, they set out to decorate the house for Christmas. They tackled outdoors first. Bundled up for the cold they went around and placed the lights on the hedges and shrubbery around the house. 

“Oh my, it’s cold out there!” Belle exclaimed as they rushed back inside. It took them a little longer than expected and the temperature had dropped significantly once the sun had set. She was dressed warmly enough, but even so she felt chilled. She took off her coat and handed it to Raymond to put away.

Raymond took his own coat off and placed it on the rack. “I’ll make us some tea to warm us up… or hot chocolate?” 

“Actually hot chocolate does sound good! I’ll get started on these lights.” She dropped onto the couch and grabbed the first batch. These were to go on the windows inside, and on the tree. She hoped that Raymond would enjoy the house this way. He said he hadn’t bothered to decorate since the last time his son stayed with him for the holidays.

By the time he returned she had untangled two light sets and was onto the third. He placed the tray of hot chocolate and cookies on the table. The cups were steaming and as she expected, he made sure to add the marshmallows. He had said that it was a favorite of his and his son’s. It was something that the three of them had in common, she thought with a smile.

Raymond was about to sit down with her when the phone rang. He sighed audibly. “Who could it be at this time? Excuse me, please.”

“Don’t worry about me. I have cookies.” He grinned and she watched him head back to the kitchen. She loved his smile. She was quite pleased with herself whenever she got him to exercise those dimples.

The hot chocolate was still steaming so she did indeed nibble on a cookie. The lights could wait a little bit. She settled back into the couch and looked around the house. She wondered if there was mistletoe in those boxes to hang up somewhere. Where would the best place be? Catching him off guard might be fun. She pondered this for a bit, and then she heard Raymond laughing gently in the other room. That got her attention and she listened a bit more carefully. She felt a little guilty about trying to make out the conversation, but his tone of voice sounded conspiratorial. This was the second time she had heard him speaking on the phone in this way. Earlier this week she had walked into the shop at lunchtime and overheard the latter part of a conversation. He seemed to hurry off the phone once she arrived as well. He quickly offered that it was a customer, and he looked uncomfortable.

She heard him hang up, and she quickly put down her cookie and picked up her hot chocolate. She took a sip as he walked in.

“Sorry about that,” he said as he sat down next to her. “How’s the hot chocolate?”

“Mmm, it’s good,” she said and licked the chocolate off of her lips. “Who was that on the phone?” She tried to sound innocent, and wasn’t sure if she succeeded.

“Oh! No one important. Just a supplier calling about a part I ordered. The shop was closed so he called here.” He sipped his cup of hot chocolate.

It was a plausible explanation, but his tone of voice… She hated that this worried her, and the unwelcome thought that entered her mind was that perhaps he was speaking to his ex-wife? Could they somehow reconnect? It had been years since the divorce. It couldn’t be possible. Could it?

“Penny for your thoughts,” Raymond said.

“Oh, it’s nothing… just daydreaming,” she didn’t like that she was keeping this feeling from him, but she would surely feel foolish if this was all in her imagination.

“Belle, you can tell me anything you know. Whenever you like,” he said, softly, and the way he looked at her made her suspicions drift away. 

She nodded, and leaned into him. “I guess... I guess I had a bit of a feeling that you’ve been keeping something from me. I know it’s silly…”

“Hey… hey,” he said. He placed his cup on the tray and put his warm hand on her cheek. He tilted her head up to look at him and gently pulled her closer. “It isn’t silly… I am keeping something from you.”

She tried to lean back away from him, but he laughed and she looked at him quizzically. 

“I’m trying to keep your Christmas present a secret!”

“That was about my Christmas present?” 

He laughed, and nodded. “Now don’t you worry, you’ll find out what it is soon enough… that’s if I manage to procure it that is.”

She relaxed in his arms, and he pulled her closer into his embrace. She felt him kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry I was suspicious.”

“Sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about. I’m quite the boring sort, let me assure you.”

She smiled. “I find you anything but boring. Quite the opposite, actually.” The way he was rubbing her back was taking her mind completely elsewhere. She tugged at his necktie, “Will we be decorating upstairs at all?”

He leaned down and kissed her softly. He tasted of hot chocolate. “I think there’s definitely something we can do upstairs.”

She laughed out loud. “See? I told you. Definitely not boring.”

*****

It was Christmas Eve and he wished he was anywhere but David Nolan’s house. Raymond of course wanted to accompany Belle to the Nolans Christmas Eve party. He just wished David would stay far away from Belle. They had spent nearly every afternoon together at the Animal Shelter for the entire month of December. He visited once, and they had decorated the place, and brought toys and cozy things for the dogs and cats to lay on. Belle said that the animals just needed love, and tried to get as many volunteers to do just that. She had recruited him for that purpose, and he did have a nice time petting dogs and cats for an afternoon. 

Raymond just didn’t like how friendly David had gotten with Belle. He called her fairly often with Animal Shelter updates. She was always so happy to hear from him. He tried very hard not to feel jealous. He knew he was probably making it all up in his head, but he couldn’t help it, especially with David’s history and all.

He sipped at his espresso, careful not to spill any on his three piece suit, and surveyed the Nolan’s living room. It was like half the town was jam packed into this house. Archie and Marco were predictably in a jovial conversation. LeRoy and Ruby were having some kind of drinking contest, and had attracted a bit of an audience. Belle, who was dressed in an elegant dark green velvet dress that Gold highly approved of, was talking with Mary Margaret, who was visibly pregnant and glowing. Mary Margaret was a pleasant woman, and seemed the perfect match for David. If he hadn’t been a little jealous and suspicious of David and his friendly relationship with Belle it would be hard to believe that this match between the Nolans would be anything but solid. 

Just as he had this thought David signaled something to Belle from across the room. She nodded and gave him a little thumbs up. To make matters worse, this little exchange happened just as Mary Margaret had turned to say hello to Ashley and her toddler Alexandra. Surely, he was imagining things. There was probably an innocent explanation. If he wasn’t driving he’d be finding the scotch right about now.

Belle came over. Somehow she was holding little Alexandra with Ashley following right behind her. “Raymond, we were just talking about taking bets about Mary Margaret’s baby. What do you think? Boy or Girl?”

Raymond went with his first thought. “I’m going to say a girl. Put me down for that.” Belle and Ashley laughed. 

“We were thinking the same thing,” Ashley said, and took Alexandra from Belle’s arms. The baby was starting to get fussy. “It’s getting late. Way past her bedtime.”

“You know Raymond, I think I’m about ready to go too. How about you?”

“Yes, I think this coffee is giving me the jitters. I fear I might not be able to sleep tonight.”

“Oh, that might not be such a bad thing.” She winked at him and led him to say their goodbyes to their hosts and a few of the other guests. 

*****

When they returned to Raymond’s home on the outskirts of town, they found a wrapped up Christmas gift on the stoop. Belle watched as Raymond picked up the gift. “This is odd who would…” He read the little card on top, “Happy Christmas, signed Moe French.” 

Belle was amused by his stunned expression. “Well he was very happy with the gift I gave him. I told him how you took extra care in restoring it.”

They walked inside, and Raymond unwrapped the gift. It was a large poinsettia. He inspected the leaves and pulled apart the stems. He looked at Belle and explained, “Checking for listening devices, or explosives…”

Belle frowned at him. “Give me that! Honestly…” she took the plant from him and placed it next to the Christmas tree. 

“Well you can’t blame me,” he said with a shrug.

“I think my father’s grudgingly starting to like you.” She stood back and looked at the tree with the poinsettia next to it and the few presents underneath. “We should take a picture together right here tomorrow morning,” she said. She turned and Raymond had gone to the small bar in the dining room and poured himself a scotch. 

“Belle, I need to talk to you about something.” He took a swig of the drink. This sounded ominous. He poured her a glass of scotch as well. 

She took the offered drink and had a tiny sip. He motioned for her to come sit with him in the dining room. She was getting worried now. 

“I’ve been watching you and David together. You seem to get along very well. All that time at the Animal Shelter and on the phone.”

Belle raised an eyebrow. She didn’t like the sound of this. “He’s a good guy… Raymond, where are you going with this?”

He took another sip, and cleared his throat. “He’s handsome, tall, and all of that, and you’re beautiful…”

“Are you… are you suggesting that we are somehow seeing each other?” she asked, incredulous. Where in the world was this coming from?

His eyes grew wide, but she continued, “Do you honestly believe that I would be having an affair with a married man, whose wife is having his baby, while I’m actually with you?”

Raymond started waving his hands in protest. “No… no, no, not at all!”

“Then what were you saying, Raymond? I mean, I’ve had the thought that you might still have feelings for your ex-wife, but it was silly and fleeting, and I told you when I was feeling insecure…”

“Oh, I assure you, I don’t have feelings for Milah.”

“Fine. What were you getting at about me and David then?” It was her turn to take a swig of the scotch.

Raymond sighed. “Oh Belle, you’re so lovely. You deserve someone more like David. I envy him. We both come from a similar background. We both grew up on a farm, and he became the taller, stronger, handsome, manly type. He’s like a real life Prince Charming. Meanwhile, I got thrown off a horse and injured myself for life. I’m no Prince Charming. I’m more like the town monster, and for some inexplicable reason you are with me. I just think sometimes that I’m just not good enough…”

“Raymond Gold, I have half a mind to grab your gift when it gets here and just go home. What do I need to say or do to convince you that I love you, you silly man. Someone like David is not for me… not for more than friendship. He’s… too bland. I need layers, my love, and you have them.”

He stared at her dumbfounded. She hadn’t said that she loved him before, but it was true, and perhaps this was exactly the time he needed to hear it. However, this didn’t stop her for wanting to make him squirm a bit more for suggesting that she and David were a potential item. “And what about you and those phone calls. Were they really about my present? Is it there under the tree?” She pointed intensely at the tree in the living room.

Raymond breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, it is. Well there are a few over there, but the one wrapped in gold is the important one.” He got up and took her hand and brought her over to the tree. “Please sit.” She sat down on the couch and waited with a stern expression. She wasn’t terribly angry with him, but she wanted him to stew just a little bit. She understood that he felt a little insecure, but she hoped that she reassured him with her earlier statement.

He handed her the thin box wrapped in gold. “I’m sorry, Belle. Truly. I didn’t mean to upset you. I was being a jealous, insecure idiot.” He sat down next to her, and nudged her with his shoulder. “Forgive me?”

She fought the smile that ended up on her face. “I forgive you.” He kissed her on the cheek and nuzzled her neck. 

“I love you too, you know,” he said, quietly in her ear. She felt warm at hearing those words for the first time. He looked into her eyes. “You can open your gift now.”

She unwrapped it, and opened the box to reveal a small picture frame. The photo inside it was of a smiling boy with tousled brown hair in his early teens. It was Raymond’s son Neal. He held up a large book with the title Her Handsome Hero.

“It’s a picture of Neal, and… my favorite book. Oh he looks so happy. I love it, but I’m not sure that I understand completely.”

Raymond took her hand. “Neal has been the one I’ve been talking to on the phone. He’s been helping me get your present. It’s that rare illustrated copy of Her Handsome Hero that you told me about. He found it in New York. We bought it for you, and he’s going to be bringing it to you himself. He’s arriving on New Year’s Eve. His mother finally let him travel on his own. He’s very excited to meet you.”

Belle felt the tears well up in her eyes. “Oh Raymond, but this is wonderful. So wonderful. I can’t wait. Oh may we call him first thing tomorrow morning to thank him and tell him how much I’m looking forward to meeting him?” 

Raymond nodded, and hugged her tightly. “I have a feeling we both feel a little bit silly about earlier.” Belle laughed and wiped away her tears. She stood up to prop up the picture frame near the tree. They both sat down and looked at it hand in hand.

At that moment the doorbell rang. “What in the world?” Raymond stood up but Belle pulled him back down.

“I’ll get it. It’s your Christmas gift.”

“They make deliveries at this time of night?”

“Well it’s a special delivery.” She opened the door and pulled in the red wagon she had used earlier in the month. Inside was a large box with green holiday wrapping and an open top. She pulled the cart in front of him. “I think we’re going to be glad that Neal is coming for more than one reason. We might need a little bit of help.”

Raymond stared up at her as she pulled out a furry little black and white puppy. Indeed it was one of the puppies he was playing with at the shelter. She put the puppy in his lap. “Belle… I…”

“I know they say that you shouldn’t give puppies as gifts, but you talk about the sheepdogs you had as a kid with such love. And you seemed to have such a connection with this puppy. David and I kept talking about it, and that’s why he kept calling, by the way. Aaand David was the one that just dropped him off.”

She saw Raymond deflate a bit in realization, but the puppy made him smile immediately after.

“I just had to bring him for you. I filled out all the adoption paperwork. I’ll keep him if you don’t want him, but I can come over as much as you want to help out. Even stay over as much as you want.” She hoped it wasn’t an unwelcome hint. Perhaps it was a bit fast to suggest a permanent living arrangement, but these weekends they had spent together were wonderful, even with tonight’s miscommunication and misunderstanding.

Raymond had the biggest smile she had seen on his face. He was petting the puppy and it was squirming and kissing his chin. “Oh I think he can stay,” he said. He looked up at her. “And you can stay as long as you want.”

“Is forever, OK?” She laughed and flopped onto the couch next to him. They didn’t get much sleep that night, thanks to the puppy, and that was just fine. They had many more holidays to spend together in the future.

The End.

[mirthless-misanthrope]

Earl Grey (Jotaro Kujo Imagine)

A/N: oh boy, this is probably the longest imagine i’ve written for jotaro so far! it’s nice and angsty, because I decided to consider reality today. relationships aren’t all fluffy like fanfics can say sometimes, so i decided to write about the first big argument in the relationship.

however, today’s prompt was “coffee and/or tea” so i tried to incorporate that too whoops

Trigger Warnings: angst!!!! argument, swearing, hopeless thoughts, self-blame, self-worth issues, harassment, jotaro feels guilt :0

Enjoy!

...

Living in Japan, I’m accustomed to drinking tea with almost everything. That’s… not even because I’m in Japan. I just love the scent of tea, no matter what kind, and I somehow managed to get used to the taste of certain blends. Earl Grey is my personal favorite. Bergamot mixing with the general aroma of black tea always soothes me whenever I’m upset or stressed out.

In this case, Earl Grey is the only thing keeping me from doing anything rash. As miserable as I am after such a harsh argument, the steam hitting my face reminds me that there’s more things to life than love… but are any of them really worth it? I suppose that’s the question of the night. 

Wisps of fire burn in the fireplace beside me, similar to the frustration Jotaro threw at me before storming out: fiery, heated, bitter… just thinking about the words he said sends me into a crying fit again. Salty tears fall into my cup of tea, ruining it, but I don’t care. Nothing matters to me at this point. God, I sound like Jotaro right now…

Why should I care though? Looking back, I didn’t do anything except try to help him tidy his office… He just exploded for no reason. His words hit me like a train as he mocked every single one of my insecurities out of nowhere. And yet somehow, I feel like this is my fault anyway. No matter how much I try to convince myself it’s his fault, I just… can’t. I know he’s been stressed since finals are next week and he has research papers due soon, and to me, it seems I’ve made him more stressed. 

Heart throbbing in agony, I wander to the kitchen and pick up our shared notepad, scribbling an apology for him to read if he comes back home… I don’t think he will until I head to work. Regardless, I’d forget if I didn’t do it now. Once the note is done, I pour the cold, ruined tea down the drain of the sink. It’s mesmerizing to watch the dark liquid swirl around in circles like this… but I have to sleep. I know I don’t want to, but if I’m gonna work tomorrow, I’ll have to, or else I’ll fall off the ladder we use to put books back on shelves…

Sleep doesn’t come to me. It’s been hours since I first laid down in our bed, but it feels so empty that my heart won’t let me sleep. Lucky me, I know where Jotaro keeps his dolphin stuffed animals that I keep getting him, and so I throw myself out of bed, heading towards the closet where each dolphin is. Pushing the door open, I observe the different shades of blue and gray fabric around me for a moment before deciding to take as many of the dolphins as I can carry, bringing them to the painfully empty bed and filling Jotaro’s side with the soft plushes. That solves one of my issues, but… there’s still something missing.

Realization dawns on me as I look at one of Jotaro’s hats on the wall. So… despite my internal embarrassment, I go to his closet and pull out one of his giant coats, pulling it around me like a blanket. That’s better, I think to myself, maybe now I can sleep. Jotaro’s lingering scent on his jacket brings more tears to my eyes, and I cry myself to sleep for the first time in months, wishing Jotaro was with me as weak sobs leave me. Arms wrapped in a vice grip around the largest dolphin I brought with me, I curl up on top of the blankets and sheets, not even bothering to dress down into pajamas. No, I pass out under the fabric of Jotaro’s coat, feeling worthless and guilty, which leads to endless nightmares.

… I’m already in deep sleep when Jotaro walks back into our apartment and sees the state I’m in. And so I don’t know that he finds out about just how hard his words hit me. He leaves without a word as soon as he sees the pile of dolphins on his side of the bed, the coat draped over me, and the tear tracks on my scrunched up face. He doesn’t want to mess this up even more.

…

8 A.M. sharp and I’m walking into the library for my shift. I don’t know why they decided to give me the earliest shift today, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. The library is quiet at this hour. I have some time to think… and consider everything. The note on the counter wasn’t messed with, and the dolphins were all still there, so… Jotaro must’ve stayed somewhere else. Probably with Kakyoin. I thought I heard someone come in at some point, but all those dreams might’ve been fucking with my head. Besides, he had no reason to come home. It’s not like he-

“Yo, librarian,” a voice sneers in front of me. I recognize the voice. Damnit, not this kid again… “Whatcha thinkin’ about over ‘ere? We’ve been callin’ your name for the past half hour, so what’s the big deal?” His tall, lanky form leans on the desk in front of me, attempting to intimidate me and it only reminds me of Jotaro yelling at me, oh god, what did I do now-? “Whoa, holy shit, why’re ya cryin’? I didn’t even say nothin’ to ya yet! Geez, ya can’t even hold yourself together… Ya look like complete shit.” His buddies behind him cackle, but I don’t hear them. I only hear Jotaro’s words: “Jesus, woman, why can’t you stop cryin’ for two fuckin’ seconds? Pull yourself together. Yare yare, what a fuckin’ pain in my ass you are.”

A brittle shriek pierces through the air. It takes me a moment to realize it’s coming from me. My eyes notice the boy’s hand inching towards me, and I cry out in agony. “Don’t-Don’t touch me-! Please, I… just leave me alone for today, okay? You can bother me all you want on any other day, just - please not today,” I beg, eyes pleading the boy to just leave me alone…

I never get a response. The boy goes flying across the library before he can make a sound, and Star is puffed up in front of me, in a protective stance. It’s too bad nobody else in the library can see him though, because now it seems like I’m insane as I freeze in place, my shaky voice piercing the silence. “S-Star... What are… you doing here…?” Sniffles and hiccups take over me as I see Star look at me, utter sorrow painted on his angular face. I’ve never seen him so distraught… so when he comes closer to me and pulls me away from the desk, I let him. 

“Ora…” The stand before me makes sure nobody is around before picking me up off the ground, cradling me close as he starts to cry. Stands… can cry? Does this mean Jotaro is crying too? Shoulders shaking, Star refuses to let go of me, as if I would die if I left his hold. “Ora ora,” he cries to me, and I figure out what he’s trying to say: “We’re sorry.” That realization takes the breath out of me. Jotaro… is sorry about what happened? But… it was my fault, wasn’t it?

A deep baritone voice breaks me out of my thoughts. “Yare yare… So this is where Star Platinum went. What a pain.” There stands Jotaro, and holy shit he looks like a zombie. Dark circles showing his lack of sleep are the most prominent blemish on his skin, accompanied by a bit of red (perhaps from crying and rubbing at his eyes). His eyes are more dim than usual. And as soon as I see that, I know he’s been feeling as much pain as I have. “You look like shit. You shouldn’t be working.” He takes me from Star’s arms, the stand whining at him but not making a move to fight back. “I already called your boss. Said you’re sick and can’t come in. I would’ve left you here but that boy pissed me off.” And with that, he turns and walks out of the library, carrying me bridal style down the street towards our apartment. 

The walk is dead silent. Neither of us say a word. Not even Star dares to break the silence… and somehow, I appreciate it. Reading Jotaro’s expression turns out to be a soothing action - almost as soothing as the scent of Earl Grey tea - as I decipher a few emotions. I can tell he feels guilty (or did feel guilty, anyway) but his eyes are lit up now that he has me in his arms. His hands that grip my body are firm, yet gentle, leaving no marks but ensuring I don’t disappear. Really, the way he holds himself during the whole walk makes it clear that he’s glad I’m there. Nothing could possibly distract my soft gaze from observing his lips twitching every few seconds. He wants to say something… but he’s hesitating. It must be important if he’s thinking about it.

To my disappointment, we get to our apartment before he says anything, and I assume it must be insignificant when he sets me on our couch and walks away. Tilting my head, I hear him rummage around in our room, the sound of a closet door opening and closing, and footsteps as he returns to me. “Had to clear the bed,” he grumbles, “we’re going to sleep.” Tugged up by his strong arms, I follow him without a word, plopping onto my side of the bed and seeing the dolphin I had cuddled last night still resting on Jotaro’s side. Confusion must be on my face, because Jotaro scoffs and settles into his side of the bed. As his arms pull me into him, he allows me to clutch the dolphin plush to my chest. It’s comforting for me to feel the soft fabric, as well as his warmth, so I’m sleepy as soon as he has his arms around my waist. “Hey. I… said a lot of shit last night.” These words make me perk up. “I… Yesterday was rough. Stressful. I didn’t mean to… I took it out on you.” Tears gather at the corners of his eyes, causing my eyes to widen and tear up as well. “I’m sorry. I love you. Never meant to hurt you like this,” his thumb brushes against my cheek, “and never meant to make you cry yourself to sleep like that.” He… did come back?

“JoJo, I… I know,” A hiccup causes my words to get stuck and I lose it, sobbing into his chest. “I know you-you didn’t mean it, but I-I’m sorry. I pissed you off again, I should’ve known not to mess with your office-”

“Yare yare, woman. Stop apologizing and go to sleep. You didn’t do anything, so stop looking at me like a guilty puppy.”

So much for that moment of being soft. 

Listening to his heartbeat, I drift off, mind filled with dreams of affection from the man laying with me. And he falls asleep as well, murmuring the sweetest nothings he can think of until his breathing evens out. 

The entirety of the day is spent napping and cuddling. Jotaro is so much more affectionate and clingy as usual, but I don’t mind. He spends all day making it up to me by showering me with compliments (in his own way) and keeping me in his arms (except for when I use the bathroom, of course). Sweet kisses are shared throughout the day as well, sealing our unspoken promise that we will be okay.

[slothgiirl]

Shadowplay (alex turner x reader)

Ottoman's was the only coffee shop you were willing to splurge on. 

Their coffee a delight even without all the milk and sugar you could add when you needed a kick to keep up. There had been a rush of orders this week and even after waking up past noon today you still felt tired. 

As per usual, there was a line. People sitting around, working on their laptops. An old man reading the papers.  A woman in a sleek suit typing quickly on her phone as she waited for her order. 

The bells chimed and you couldn't help but glance over at the man who walked in. Clad in black fitted jeans, a leather jacket despite the turn in weather over a crisp white shirt and shiny leather boots. Hair gelled back with what looked like a whole tub of gel. 

With a confident swagger he took his place in line behind you. He was undeniably attractive. But you were more interested in getting your cuppa and getting all your errands done for the day than anything else.

The next few people in line went up. You were probably going to go for your usual. With just a splash of oat milk. 

Two people made a bee line for the man behind you. An incredibly beautiful woman, the type that become influencers on instagram, who got free drinks at bars. She had a golden glow and her hand in the man next to her.

"Al," she greets him, hugging him with ease. She's loud and you can't help but overhear them as you scroll through the sales page on net a porter. "It's so good to see you."

"Arielle," the man behind you greets stiffly, not leaning into the hug at all. You can't see his eyes from behind his aviators. "Didn't 'spect to see you here."

"Just a weekend trip really," she tells him, "the wedding plannings been crazy."

"Aaah, yes. The wedding. Congrats 'bout that again." 

Arielle doesn't seem to sense any of his discomfort, too caught up in her own happiness. Probably an ex boyfriend then. 

You're not even trying to pretend not to listen anymore, their drama better than anything on the telly since downtown abbey ended. 

The man at the til calls up, "next in line." 

You're about to go up when the man behind you throws an arm around your neck, pulling you into his side and smiling down at you as he tells Arielle, "gonna order. Wait for us?"

Arielle smiles at you warmly, "of course Al just don't take to long."

And before you can say anything he's pulling you along forward to order. "I'll 'ave a earl grey creme and whatever the lady wants." His loose hold is the only reason I don't move away instantly. 

Al turns to you, a devilishly confident smile on his lips, the type people promising a good time and more trouble than their worth give, as he asks, "please go along with it for a couple of minutes?"

Not wanting to bother the man at the register by taking forever you add, "and a cafe au lait with oat milk." Before looking back at Al as he finally lets go and slides his card, "and what's in it for me?" 

He chuckles, "the coffee."

"Least you could do."

"Listening in on people's conversations is very rude love," Al says, wagging his finger playfully.

You snort. "Maybe you shouldn't have those conversations in public if you don't want people to overhear."

"It's just a couple of minutes love." His deep voice smooth as you both move to wait for your order. 

"All right," you nod, letting yourself be charmed by him. 

"I'm Alex."

You introduce yourself as well, finding it funny that everything seems to be going in the wrong order with you both. 

"So," Arielle asks, joining you both along with her fiancé. "Who's this Al?" She's light and genuine and you think it would be all to easy to be friends with her. 

"My girlfriend," Alex replies back casually, as if remarking on the weather. You roll your eyes at him. He's a terrible actor or maybe he's just that much of an arse. 

"That enthusiasm," you tease, putting your arm through his, "it's too much."

Alex shakes his head, smiling. 

"Are you two going to make it too my wedding," Arielle asks, "it's in Palm springs. Just a few hours from yours."

So he doesn't live in the city despite his accent and we won't ever have to talk about this again. It's a relief. Lets you ease up from whatever this was. It said something about Alex, despite his confident demeanor that he didn't want to be alone while his ex got married. 

"We shall see," he says noncommintantly. 

"Got to get going," she adds, "hope we can get lunch before I go back to LA or when we're in LA."

Alex looks like he would rather die than do either one of those things, so you answer for him. "Love too but maybe this weekends a little short notice." 

"Oh okay." She looks genuinely disappointed. They both leave and the barista calls your order out. Alex grabs them both. 

"Thank you love. Really saved my arse."

"It would've been easier just to tell the truth," you note. Lies got all tangled up quickly. 

He shrugs, "a lot less fun though." Alex finally takes off his aviators. It's frankly unfair. His wide brown eyes only adding to his already well formed features. A softness to them that ruins the idea that he's a debonair devil the way he fronts. 

"What are you going to do when she asks?"

"Lie."

"So she's your," You raise a brow.

"Ex. She wanted to get married and I-," he fiddled with the ring around his finger, a silver garish thing that he pulls off through sheer confidence, "I didn't want to."

"To marry her or get married at all?""

Her. . .both?" He pouts, looking into your eyes. 

"And what? You don't want to look like the loser in the breakup or are you actually regretting not marrying her." 

Alex runs a hand through his hair, ruinning the carefully done style. "No. I don't regret breaking up with her. I just. . .I guess I'm feeling particularly old today," he jokes. 

You shake your head. "Honestly I've been feeling old since I finished school." 

"So what about you love? Any boyfriends that I should worry about?"

Laughing, you explain, "not but it's me you should be worried about. Did years of krav maga."

"Really," Alex says, looking your small form over. You might have a full figure, but you also have lots of toned muscle. 

"Yeah. My dad was very into martial arts. Boxing was more his thing though. What about you Alex? Arielle said you lived in LA?"

Alex takes his time to answer, dipping from his drink. Looking thoughtfully around before replying. "I do have a place there."

"But?"

"But I'm currently staying in London. Thought a change of scenery might be nice."

"Are you like a drug dealer or something," you ask unable to help yourself. London was expensive. Let alone having a place in Los Angeles too. "Or some trust fund posh kid?"

Alex laughs, almost choking on his tea. Rubbing his nose bride, before looking over at you and laughing again. "Neither. I promise love. I'm a musician."

"So a rich kid," you state, "all the musicians I know are broke."

"A successful musician," he amends. 

"Like Beyoncé?"

"Not quite," Alex says shyly. It makes you even more curious, having to wrestle this information out of him. "What do you do for a living love?"

"I'm a tailor. Mostly do handmade stuff. I always liked sewing. Even as a kid. In college I made my clothes a lot of the times and sometimes had to stitch things up throughout the day." It had been embarrassing to have a seam unravel during class. 

"Tailors make the world go round," Alex notes, "Though the fittings are annoying, the results are undeniable." He puffs out his chest and straightens out his leather jacket. 

You laugh at his faux posh face, one you know very well from work. It took a certain type of customer to afford suits starting at 2000 pounds. "Most people ask if people really still need tailors what with poshmark and h&m."

We finish our drinks, easily going back and forth. Alex is charming and sweet. The lull between his responses worth it, his voice holding the same quality as a good dark chocolate and just as addicting. 

He tells you about LA, a place you've never been too. About music, going off on tangents about instruments and records you've never heard off and will be googling as soon as you get home. 

It's easy to fall into conversation with him. Telling him about your small family. Your sister still in uni. Your parents down by the coast. The amount of work you currently have, and all the ridiculous request you get from your customers. "I'm all for making people look as fit as they want me too and having clothes that make them feel good but there's a limit. No cut will make you loose ten stone. Of have you suddenly look twenty years younger."

"I admire your ability to but up with all those posh fookers."

"I do too. Not that everyone's bad. There's also business people that are more middle class but a good suit is everything. Counts for more than having twent my prada ones."

"Well," he states, finally leaning back and ending the magic of the afternoon, reality coming flooding back because you both have things to do and he's still just a stranger, "it's been lovely talking to you darling but I'm afraid I already made plans for tonight." 

"And I have errands to run before lazying about all day tomorrow." You might still make it to the bank if you rush. Hail a cab. 

"You've been the best fake girlfriend I could ask for."

"How many have you had Alex," you tease him, watching the heat rise to his cheeks. Feeling emboldened, you give him your number, scribbling it out on napkin, "in case you ever need a fake girlfriend. I hear it's much easier than a real one. Not that you look like you have any trouble getting women."

He smiles, looking over at you in amazement, as if he's not sure your real. That he'd been lucky to run into a woman like you while getting coffee. It was too entente of a gaze for you to hold for long. 

You look away, feeling surprised at yourself. It wasn't like you to hand out your number. But you hoped that you might see him again. That it wasn't just a one off. 

"See you around love." 

[holylulusworld]

Please trust me – Part 2

Request: I wondering if you could do a smut/angst/fluff Jared x reader the reader is a writer/actress/video editor for the show. She spends her days off isolated because she has trust issues. Jared finds himself falling for her. In the end, they get married and have kids... I apologize if this request seems very detail lol. Thanks in advance for doing this request.

Pairing: Jared x Reader

Warnings: shy reader, angst, isolation, trust issues, fluff

Nervous as hell you bite your lower lip while you wait for Jared in front of your trailer. You chose a light summer dress to wear.

Did he really say date? Maybe you misheard and he didn’t say so? God, what if he gets your outfit wrong? What if he thinks you’re creepy?

“Whoa…you look stunning!” Jared swoons smiling.

Wearing tight blue jeans, a blue shirt and a light jacket Jared towers over you. He looks like a male model.

“You look great too,” you whisper.

“Really? Jensen helped me picking the outfit for our date,” Jared stammers.

Date! He said it again. It is a date! What now? What if this is a trick to make fun of you?

“Are you sure you want to go for a coffee with me?”

Taking your hand in his large ones he kisses it softly. Flushing red you just stare up at the gorgeous tall man.

“More than sure. I wanted to ask you out for so long. Please give me the chance to be your friend or more, Y/N.”

“Okay. I can try.”

“This is all I’m asking for. I would never hurt you. I really like you…really like you.”

-----

“What do you want? Coffee, tea or something else?” Jared asks.

“A tea would be great. Earl Grey and those red velvet cupcakes.” You squeal shyly.

“Great choice. I want those too. Wait, I’ll get us the beverages and the cupcake,” Jared says smiling.

Bringing the beverages and cupcakes to your table Jared is still smiling. His smile is even brighter.

“The girls said you look great. They asked me if we are a pair and if our roles will get together.”

Flushing red you stare at Jared swallowing hard. After placing the tea and cupcakes in front of you Jared sits down.

“I guess they only wanted to get your attention.”

“Maybe, but they really like you and your role. Like the rest of the fandom.”

“Oh…I didn’t know that.”

“So will you tell me what happened with your old friends back then? Only if isn’t too personal to tell…I don’t want to put any pressure on you.”

“I…I had two really good friends…well, three. Jamie was really cool, my best friend. But when we started college he got new friends and started to keep his distance. One day I got to know that he told everyone I’m an easy lay…but he knew I was still…ya know…innocent.”

“That’s horrible! How could he do that?”

“One of his new ‘friends’ asked him why he’s befriended with someone boring like me. Instead of telling them we are friends since childhood he said I spread my legs anytime he wants me to.” You whisper.

Clenching his jaw Jared has the urge to rip that guy apart. Seeing your sad face he gently squeezes your hand.

“I kept my distance and never talked to him again. After his new friends dumped him he tried to be my friend again but I refused.”

“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe he did something like that to you. I should smash his face!” Jared mutters.

“That was years ago.”

“What about the other two?”

“Janet and Jeremy…Janet was my best friend during college. Jeremy tagged along as he was into Janet. We were inseparable…until…” Sighing you look at your hands.

“What happened?”

“Jeremy and Janet got together and we spend less time together. It was okay, really. They were a pair and I understood they wanted to spend time without me. One day Jeremy came around, without Janet, telling me he needs help with an essay. I let him into my room and soon he started talking about sex and stuff. I got uncomfortable. I told him to stop and then he pushed me against the wall and kissed me.”

“Oh…”

“I pushed him away and scolded him. He was Janet’s boyfriend! After I kicked him out of my room I called Janet and told her…well, everything. Instead of believing me she started yelling. She said I’m a whore and that I always was into Jeremy.”

“Fuck…”

“Yeah. I mean I wasn’t into that small guy…I like tall men, not dwarfs…She didn’t believe me. The last year on college was hell as Janet told everyone I tried to fuck her boyfriend.”

“God, that’s awful. After that, you never had friends again?”

“I trusted no one. All my friends dropped me or worse. I stayed alone and isolated to prevent getting hurt again.”

“I swear neither Jensen, Misha nor I would do such a thing. Please, we only want to get to know you better. Jensen and I talked to our bosses to make sure you’ll get a bigger and permanent role at SPN.”

“You did? Why?”

“We all like you and your work at the show. Please give us a chance to prove we can be good friends.”

“I can try.”

“How about starting with having lunch together tomorrow.”

“All of us?” You stammer nervously.

“We could start slow. Only you and me in my trailer. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good. Thank you.”

“No, thank you for giving me a chance to prove you can find reliable friends, Y/N.”

“Oh look it’s getting late,” you say surprised. You and Jared talked for over three hours.

“I better drive you home then,” Jared chuckles.

“Okay.”

-----

“Did you have fun today?”

“Yeah, thank you, Jared.”

“No need to thank me, Y/N. As I said I like you…a lot.”

Giving him a shy smile you just stare up at the tall man. Smiling back Jared tilts his head to brush his lips over yours. Eyes widen you don’t kiss him back. Hit by surprise you got no clue how to react.

“God…sorry…I’m sorry. I rushed things…I…” Jared stammers flushing red.

“You wanted to kiss me?” You ask.

“For a long time.” He admits.

“You could do it again,” you whisper.

Nodding eagerly he tilts his head. Cupping your face with his large hands he kisses you softly. This time you slowly kiss him back.

Jared smiles against your lips when he hears a soft moan escaping your lips. After what feels like hours he breaks the kiss still smiling.

“Wow.” Jared rasps.

“Wow.” You whisper.

“So lunch, my trailer…tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’d like that.”

When you enter your apartment Jared slowly walks away, a bright smile on his face he hopes you will see how much he loves you…

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