#I ALSO like to ramble my silly little mouth so I promise more often than not you’ll see a novel in the tags

[foolishfalls]

Old Friends

Happy Holidays, @suuilee!! I was your secret santa for @fmasecretsanta!

First off, apologies for my delay in posting this! I've been struggling so much with editing lately and that took me a lot longer than I thought it would. Still, I hope this brings you some belated warmth this holiday season.

I tried to consider all of your prompts, and I've been dying to write about Ed and Riza's relationship and their character parallels, and of course there's a heaping side of Royai. Hope you enjoy it!

Rated T | 3538 Words | Canon Compliant (mostly i think!?), Found Family, Love Confessions, Ed-centric, Implied Royai, Lil bit of angst, Mostly Ed being Silly and wanting the best for his loved ones

Read on AO3

Ed was wandering through Central City that afternoon when he arrived upon a thought–it wasn’t often that he visited Captain Hawkeye at home.

He had just left Gracia’s apartment after visiting with Elycia. The young girl had spent moments between mouthfuls of stew rambling to Ed about the elementary alchemy she’d been learning in school, interrupted by the occasional scolding from Gracia for chewing with her mouth open. He allowed her to ramble on, prompting her to talk more about her studies, the vast expanse of a world that felt so new to such a young kid.

He couldn’t help but think that she reminded him of himself when he was that age. It brought a new kind of warmth to his chest. 

Ed spent much of his time since the Promised Day holed up at his home in Resembool, one that he was fortunate enough to return to.

Nowadays, it was rare that he let himself leave his little hometown and its quiet, unassuming safety unless he was pursuing research with his brother or helping an old friend. Wandering the city streets reminded him of a time when the country was in danger, when he was still down one arm and his brother’s whole body.

Ed didn’t care to revisit such a feeling when he had the comforts of home to return to, a home he once thought he’d lost forever, a home he wouldn’t have felt worthy of returning to before he accomplished his goal.

For some reason, those thoughts lead him straight to Hawkeye.

He often thought of stopping by the Captain’s apartment–it would be nice to see Hayate, to sit and have tea with her as they had once in the past. That way, at least he wouldn’t have to see the Commander’s ugly mug for once. And then, there was also the matter of what he’d said to Winry before heading out on his travels.

I mean, after all, you love her, don’t you?

Echoes of Riza’s years-old words rushed up from below the surface of his memory, thrumming inside his eardrums. The Hawk’s Eye was famous for her perception–you couldn’t get a thing past her, but Ed hadn’t realized that sentiment applied to his silly little childhood crush, as well.

He dug his nails rhythmically into the heel of his palm, hammering out his thoughts. He felt like he needed to repay her for something, but he was unsure what, exactly–for the gun that she lent him to protect his loved ones back then, for the stories that she shared so he might avoid the mistakes she made. They were gestures that Ed had come to appreciate more as the years passed, as he grew further into adulthood.

With a decisive scrape of his thumb against his palm, he turned on his heels toward the east sector of the city, bound toward the Lieutenant’s apartment complex.

When he made it to her floor, Ed found the same non-descript doormat he remembered in the hallway. He braced himself and knocked.

It was just before sunset, so there was no guarantee that she would be home for the evening. She was known to work late, he remembered. He considered turning away, but then the doorknob rolled over with a click.

“Edward?” Riza appeared, her shoulders wrapped in a familiar cardigan, Hayate trailing  behind at her feet, more docile than Ed remembered him. Her voice pitched up as she spoke, her shaky nerves evident in her tone. “Hi! This is unexpected.”

“Hi, Captain. Long time no see. I… I hope this isn’t a bother right now.” He silently chided himself as he stammered, his throat catching around the cumbersome feeling that filled the air between them

“Not at all, please, come in.”

The tea that she brewed tasted the same as it did years ago when their lives hung in a much more precarious balance. 

He savored the taste with that in mind–where they came from, where they were headed, and what constants they had to rely on–feeling the warmth as it radiated into both of his hands.

“What brings you to Central?”

“I’m waiting to catch the morning train heading east. I’ll be meeting with Al and May in Xing to help with their research.”

“That’s wonderful! I hope it all goes well.”

“Thank you.” Ed set down the cup on its saucer. “How are things down at the Central Command? I hope the Colonel-ah, Commander isn’t working you too hard.” 

He couldn’t help but trip over Roy’s newer title. For some reason, every time he went up a rank it left a bad taste in his mouth, like he could taste the compounded interest he was sure Roy would hold him accountable for once he collected his debt from their years-old deal.

“I appreciate your concern.” Riza’s hands were out of view, but Ed could tell she was twiddling her fingers in her lap by the slight sway of her elbows. “I’m trying to relax whenever I can. If anything, no one looks out for me more than he does.”

“I’m glad to hear that the old bastard still has your best interest at heart.” Still, softness permeated her gaze at the mention of him.

“So, what brings you here? I mean, not to Central, but…” She gestured broadly to her living area. It did look the same as he remembered it, save for the unpacked boxes that littered the floor last time, not a hair out of place.

“I came by because I feel like I never properly got to thank you for that time when you helped me out a few years ago.”

Riza looked at Ed, unsure at first, but the way he looked down at his teacup called the memory to mind–his sullen eyes, his lament about how useless he felt that day. It touched her heart, to know something so simple still meant something to him.

“Oh, Ed. It was the least I could do. I’m glad I was able to be there for you.”

“You’re humble, Captain. You went out of your way to help me even though you hardly knew me, and I’ve always been curious why.”

Riza felt like she was being put on the spot. Why, he’d asked–why would she help the little boy with the sullen face, with no way to carry on after losing his home, his family?

When she’d handed him the gun and when they spoke after he returned it, all she could think of was what she recognized in his eyes on that day in Resembool, the first day she met the Elric brothers. She’d seen those same eyes in the mirror before, she could have sworn–back home in her own empty country house, as she trudged forward through her own grief, as she forced herself to live on in the face of loss that felt endless, insurmountable.

“I guess I saw some part of myself in you, Ed.” She felt anxious, remembering how she once cleaned her gun in front of Edward that time, wishing she had something to busy her hands with besides a cup of tea. “I could tell you were desperate to protect the people you loved, the people you had left.”

Ed’s eyes remained fixed on the teacup, she could have sworn she saw drops trailing along his eyelids, but she didn’t dare call attention to it. She wracked her brain for a more accurate answer.

“I knew how you felt, and I wanted you to understand that you still had a way forward.”

When the words left her lips, a strange sort of openness hung heavy in the air around them. It occurred to Riza that this was something else she seemed to have in common with Ed–they were both awful when it came to moments like this–being candid with their emotions. 

She’d never considered it until now, but it was selfish of her, really, the way she treated Edward back then. It was what she’d wanted most when her world seemed empty and hopeless.

She was grateful to have had someone like Roy to lean on back then, despite how things turned out in the end. She supposed Winry was someone like that to Ed, too.

She remembered how he’d sputtered and blushed back then when she brought up his obvious feelings for Winry–Winry, she thought. Finally, the perfect topic to shift their conversation away from the subject that was plaguing Ed’s eyes with tears. Small talk is safer, Riza reminded herself.

“How’s Winry? How are things with you two?”

Ed’s face turned red hot, a blush even more aggressive than the tone that painted his cheeks when he was young.

“Well, I told her how I felt… sort of.”

“That’s great! How did it go?”

Ed cringed inwardly at himself, searching for the right answer to her question, shifting his gaze downward, back to his tea. Even if he flubbed the confession’s delivery, all things considered, It could have gone worse.

“It went alright… She told me how she felt, too.” Riza smiled, clearly unaware of how much suffering Ed was enduring at the moment, but he smiled to himself despite it. He took some comfort in reminding himself that Riza, and anyone else, would never have to know how silly he sounded. That was between him, Winry, and the train platform.

Lucky for him, he had the perfect counter, the best way to reverse the tension. He’d already gotten the answer that his sentimentality sent him in search of. 

Now that he’d been reminded again of the embarrassment he felt in front of Hawkeye years ago, now that he was out from under Mustang’s command, it hit his brain like the perfect storm–an opportunity for a kind of mischief he had yet to grow too old for.

“Anyway, speaking of that,” Ed cleared his throat and leaned in, a posture meant to convey a careful approach, a clandestine discussion. He had to ham it up a bit to get his point across, after all. “How are things with you and Mustang?”

“What?” Blood rushed to Riza’s cheeks, and Ed noticed the way her arms clung to her sides as her hands remained in her lap–movement implying clenched fists, and her nerves bubbling to the surface. Bingo.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she followed, regaining her composure. It was an obvious attempt to save face, but still somewhat successful at that. It was Hawkeye he was dealing with, after all. She wouldn’t slip so easily.

“Relax! It’s not like I’m gonna snitch on you two. I’m not a dog of the military anymore, remember?”

She was silent, still, in stubborn defiance. Perhaps this would be tougher than he thought, but Ed was patient. He had nowhere to be that evening, and plenty of time to kill. He’d been driven by the inkling he felt to repay Riza for the good deed she did for him back then, but he realized he also craved a little payback for his humiliation, a childish urge he wanted to sate, even at the expense of an old confidant like her.

“Look, it’s just that I can tell you two care about each other, that’s all. Anyone around you can see that. You should tell him how you feel.”

Ice cold. Nothing. She calmly looked toward her hands in her lap, then toward Hayate, who sat on the ground next to her. She glanced up at the clock on the wall, and then shifted her stoic gaze back toward him, still unbroken.

“I mean, I did see the way he looked at you on the Promised Day. Scar did too. Can you blame me for asking? I just hope it’s not too soon to bring it up.”

She still kept her lips sealed. Stonefaced, she checked the clock again. Ed recognized a hint of a grimace in her expression despite her attempts to cover it up. He considered his options for ammunition. What might cause Hawkeye to break? What dirt did he have on her and Mustang?

He needed to tread lightly, but he wasn’t giving up this game of chicken he’d started–or, from his perspective, that Riza initiated years ago when she teased him about Winry.

“I’ve always been curious about all that drama between you two in the tunnel too, remember? About your ‘secrets?’” He laughed, hopeful it might diffuse some of the tension, invite her to join in on the fun, anything, but when he glanced up at her again, her eyes shot daggers at him. “You spoke to each other like old friends.” 

He just wanted her to say something, anything, in response to his teasing, to leave with some measly can of beans to spill. It would be hilarious, after all, to show up in Xing, triumphantly, with some gossip to share with Al and May. No one would appreciate it quite like those two.

She was still silent, though, amid the din of the ticking clock, the loudest thing in the room. He’d underestimated her ability to keep her lips sealed, as though he’d forgotten about her decorated military tenure, her status as the model soldier. 

Screw it, he thought. It was time to return to lower blows, after all, that was his specialty.

“There’s not a chance that he’s giving you some kind of special treatment, is there?”

“Stop it, Ed.” Finally, a bite. He didn’t know quite what he was looking for, but he knew that any reaction out of her would be hard-won. He leaned in again, his tone obviously playful, but threatening nonetheless. She had to know he was only joking, right?

“Perhaps the Commander’s real motive for rising through the ranks is so that he can change the anti-fraternization law–”

“Edward Elric.” The Captain raised her voice, remaining stern. His name came from her lips like a threat on his life, the knockback of her voice surging through his ears, “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t dare utter another word against the Commander.”

She glared at him, and his life flashed before his eyes. He realized now that he had a more thorough understanding of her reputation than he’d ever had before, even after her stories about Ishval–so this was what it truly felt like to be caught in the Hawk’s sights.

He’d only ever seen one other person on the receiving end of such intensity from her. Perhaps belittling their professional aspirations was taking it too far, even if it was just to get a rise out of her.

“It’s getting late.” She stood up, turning around to look at the clock again. “I have to be up early tomorrow.”

“Ahh, you’re right. I have a train to catch, too, don’t I?” he said, punctuated by another laugh, fraught with tender nerves.

He felt a pang in his chest, weighed down by some kind of heaviness. He felt bad for pushing the conversation so far, and especially for bringing up what he’d witnessed between on the Promised Day.

Ed only seemed to know how to say what he meant through some grand metaphor connected to something he actually understood, like on the train platform with Winry, or through teasing and poking fun at the people he cared for. When he tried to talk about love, he was like a shaky compass needle, nervously wobbling its way toward its chosen direction.

He thought all he’d wanted was to get some playful revenge against Riza, to give her a taste of her own medicine, but it hit him then and there how little he knew of her life, despite the feeling that something like mutual understanding was present between them, like roots from separate plants that had become twisted up in each other beneath the soil. 

Most of all, he just wanted to return the favor of the reminder that Riza had given him back then about Winry–a reminder to love what you have left while you still can.

Because Ed knew that she was right when she said she understood how he felt. Because he understood how she felt, too.

He just didn’t know how to say it without, well, tarnishing the Commander’s reputation and making himself the target of Riza’s pent-up rage, or making presumptive comments about the nature of their relationship. He was never good at being subtle, but he could try if it meant getting his point across.

“One more question before I go, Captain.” She looked at him as if she was quietly pleading with him to go easy on her, to not pelt her with any more career-ending accusations.

“What is it, Ed?”

“How did you know I loved Winry back then? Did you see some of yourself in me then, too?”

Riza smiled. Her expression was soft, like Ed had finally managed to say the right thing, with just enough of the implication he’d sought to make, neatly obscured beneath the surface.

Then, it came, rattling out like the contents of some pandora’s box that only Ed would be stupid enough to open: a knock at the door, and the brash, melodious voice of Ed’s least favorite person in Amestris.

“Captain?” the familiar voice sang from behind the door, hushed enough that a neighbor wouldn’t hear, but not so much that Ed could miss it from where he stood against the door, “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Riza’s face turned red hot, and Ed was sure that her blushy glow was more vibrant than the color that painted his cheeks earlier. Now, he’d truly won.

Her eyebrow twitched, and Ed felt his blood boil in anticipation of her rage, but she held back again.

“Good evening, Edward. Safe travels.” Victory against Hawkeye was bound to come with its drawbacks, but Ed knew he wouldn’t be the one to experience the aftermath. Riza opened the door with a swift pull and grabbed him by the shoulders, expertly shoving him out and into the hall. The door slammed behind him.

“Fullmetal?” Roy said, looking at Ed like was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Mustang.” Ed was on the floor, and he was sure his ass hadn’t made it through the ordeal unbruised. He supposed he’d earned it, for how far he was able to push Hawkeye.

“What brings you here?” Roy looked puzzled, but Ed could tell he was less suspicious of him than he was worried for himself, or worried about the questions Ed might ask him.

What brought him there, after all? There he was–just outside of Hawkeye’s apartment, at such a late hour, in such a casual manner. He held a paper bag that was the perfect size for carrying a bottle of wine.

“I was just repaying the Captain for something she did for me a long time ago, that’s all. I have to be going. See you!”

Roy looked at him like the answer wasn’t satisfying enough for him, but Ed had to be getting the hell out of dodge and leaving Mustang to deal with the fallout of his goading.

“See you, Fullmetal,” Roy said, but Ed was almost out of earshot.

He faintly heard another knock, and as he was making his way down the stairs at the end of the hall, he could have sworn he heard the door slam closed again. 

When he made it down to the street, he looked up at the window on the second floor and saw the curtains drawn in careful communion, refusing to betray whatever might be going on behind closed doors.

Which, he was sure from his encounter moments ago only included a very clueless Commander Mustang getting reamed out by a very embarrassed Captain Hawkeye.

But maybe it wasn’t so bad. Afterward, they might have a glass of wine, and Riza might finally tell Roy how she feels, thinking that if Ed could do it, maybe she could do it too.

He wondered if the pair of them were growing a bit more careless as they grew older, what with Hawkeye allowing Ed to linger a little too late, only to see Mustang arrive at such a scandalous hour.

They must have been getting soft. Or rather, he hoped that they were. Some little part of him thought they’d earned that much–some softness for themselves, even if it has to be kept under wraps.

He made his way, slow and meandering, back to the hotel he stayed in when he was down an arm, down a brother’s body, and still yet to fully arrive where he would become rooted. 

As he strolled down the main drag of the bustling city, he considered it–how the people passing by were just like him, how the paths they shared in passing might bring an opportunity for understanding.

Though his roots were, more often than not, still in Resembool, he took comfort in knowing that he had people in each corner of Amestris who understood him, who’d been touched by him. He took comfort in the little gifts that his journey gave him before he’d even arrived at his destination.

[inogenzentan]

Blog intro

Hello!!!

This blog is run by two admins, admin 🍉 and admin 🎴! We’re both lesbian artists that are currently obsessed with demon slayer and wanted to make a blog dedicated to Inogentan! We’ll be reblogging art of them as well as occasionally posting our own. We’ll also be reblogging posts relating to gentan, inogen, inotan, etc, as well as the individual characters themselves!

Here are the tags we’ll mostly use! (More will be added eventually):

#inogentan

#fanart rb

#official rb

#video rb

#gif rb

#manga

#anime

#mod 🍉 art

#mod 🎴 art

+ more!

This blog is just for fun, so posts won’t have a proper schedule, just whenever we feel like it!

Thanks for reading!!!!

-Mods 🎴+🍉

[divinolenta]

kazuha with a bookworm s/o

kazuha x gender neutral reader, fluff/sfw

additional notes: repost due to previous difficulties regarding posting and tags ! [ original message: requested by an anon! thank you for requesting ♡ i got carried away with this but i hope it's not too messy/long to read ! ]

although kazuha doesn't necessarily make an effort to look for someone who dedicates themselves to reading and writing, he does eventually appreciate that you share his sentiments (the crew thanks you many times, gratified that they will no longer have to hear him drone on about the beauty of nature)

he's so in love with you that while you're caught up in a chapter of your book or furiously scribbling down ideas for your plot, you'll catch him smiling at you like a fool

he's captivated by your natural mannerisms as you read: the way your eyes drift across a sentence as you absorb the words or the way your lips curve up when you come across something amusing

he will often write in his free time too, and although he opts for haikus, he's delighted when you ask him for help on writing your latest novel

kazuha has joined your late night writing sessions, chest pressed against your back as you sit between his legs, soft and lyrical voice suggesting ideas that you immediately jot down. your ears burn at his proximity and the way the warmth of his breaths tickles your neck as he peers over your shoulder curiously

hours later, when you finally declare that it's time for some much needed rest, you always feel guilty when you notice how fatigued he looks, crimson eyes bleary, and he can barely lift his head from your shoulder

from then on, you try your best to persuade him to retire early, promising to follow soon after. yet he somehow finds a way to refuse repeatedly despite returning from a long and arduous expedition

"there's no need for you to stay up with me!" you insist, gently nudging him towards the bed but kazuha shakes his head. "i can never sleep well when you're not by my side." he confesses shyly, and you gawk at him, taking a moment to process his words before tackling him into a hug, unable to resist his flustered expression

on rare occasions, as you conjure up tales of courageous heroes and treacherous adventures on paper by candlelight, kazuha nods off, arms slackening around your waist (you smile to yourself before calling it a night, blowing out candles as you stagger towards the bed with kazuha clinging to you)

likewise, if you request kazuha to read over your work, he's happy to oblige! he simply cannot resist you, and being the first person to read your work makes him feel elated

kazuha will gift you novels he thinks you might be interested in, and there is almost always a maple leaf pressed neatly between the pages. sometimes, it'll be an old favourite of his and he'll even write tiny annotations in the margins or include little messages to highlight sentences that remind him of you

adores it when you read to him! whether it's the both of you spending the afternoon sitting in the shade of a great tree with his head in your lap or if it's you reading your favourite book to him at night. it's perfect for him to unwind after a particularly stressful day, plus he can listen to your voice (he claims that it's his favourite sound in the world, and can easily defeat even the most talented bard)!

kazuha practically makes heart eyes at you when you ramble animatedly about the current novel you're reading. he also loves it when you discuss upcoming works with him! it's endearing how the timbre of your voice becomes higher-pitched as you gesture excitedly with your hands

he knows it's silly but he can't help but mope when you pay more attention to your book than him (in your defense, you had just gotten to the climax of the plot)

being a romantic at heart, kazuha will call your name, petulant when you merely hum but don't glance at him. tugging the book down, he'll lean forward to capture your mouth with his

if he's truly desperate for your attention in public, he'll yank the novel out of your grasp and swallow your complaints with a kiss, one hand preventing you from moving away while the other holds the book up as a shield from prying eyes

if you've recently published a book, he'll subtly promote it when the fleet sails to other nations and cities. however, he'll never divulge details on your relationship. after all, kazuha is still a wanted fugitive fleeing from the nightmare that the shogun calls eternity

[bugsyfics]

The Flower Who Bloomed (Part 2)

Undertaker x Reader

Fandom: BB

Summary: Undertaker requests for another visit with Y/N despite the conflict he is causing. Like Undertaker said, “once a lie is unraveled, the truth comes tumbling forth” —and so it does.

Warnings: Smut/notsfw, some serious teasing

Word Count: 1.8k

————•————•————•————•————•————•————•————

After you leave Undertaker’s shop, dress slightly disheveled and hair every which way, there’s no doubt that you have been absolutely ravished. With one good stare it is obvious what activities you were previously involved in. But even as you walk aimlessly around town to find a carriage in the brisk fall air, Undertaker’s words still play in your head.

•••

“Do not tell anyone about our little encounter, dear. He wouldn’t —they wouldn’t be very happy,” Undertaker spoke low, biting his tongue.

Undertaker phoned the earl, informing him he had seen you trip on the sidewalk, and tended to your twisted ankle. While that was a great excuse, nothing could get past Sebastian and you knew he would try to put the pieces together.

“Come here before you leave, my little flower,” Undertaker motioned to you, “I want to see you again soon. How does next week sound?”

You were unsure after the mess you got yourself into, but you just couldn’t say no to him.

•••

Fortunately when you arrive, no one is at the entryway to greet you, so you quickly walk to your bedroom. As you hum to yourself, changing into your nightgown, a knock at the door startles you. You slowly open the door to the hallway.

“Let me see your ankle, Y/N,” Sebastian says plainly. “It won’t take long. I need to check if it’s sprained.”

You smile wearily and sit on your bed holding out your leg. Sebastian grabs your ankle gingerly and observes it for much longer than you would like. After wrapping it with gauze, he looks beside himself, eyeing a pile of your clothes. “I can take those down to the laundry for you.”

“N-no! U-um I mean… it’s my job anyway,” you stammer and smile at him awkwardly.

“I insist, Y/N. You shouldn’t be walking at least for a couple days.”

Sebastian goes to pick up your clothing and you sweat nervously, aware that your soiled undergarments are stashed between your dress. Of course he wouldn’t say anything because it would be ungentleman-like, but the idea of him finding your ruined panties swallows you whole.

•••

Some days pass and surprisingly no one brings up the glaring flaws in your excuse. Though Sebastian has been observing you more often and it’s clear he’s on to you.

Instead of letting your curiosity eat away at you, you decide to ask Sebastian a question only he can answer. You stand in the doorway of the kitchen as he prepares dinner and clear your throat. “Good afternoon! I have a quick question about something that crossed my mind recently. It may sound a bit strange.”

Sebastian looks up at you and wipes his hands on the towel laid across his shoulder. You notice the slightest smirk cross his lips as he nods for you to continue. “Is it possible that the Percy twins were killed by something inhuman?” You watch as he raises his eyebrows in amusement. “For instance, like in the tales where a supernatural being eats innocent children.”

“Where did this come from all of a sudden? I thought you didn’t believe in those silly tales,” Sebastian prys.

“W-well I don’t… There’s just no other way to explain it. There aren’t any witnesses and the way they were so brutally killed…” you falter from your rambling.

“Did you need evidence to believe in the Church, or was it just second nature for you?”

“I guess it was second nature.”

“Exactly, Y/N. So why question yourself, if what you believe is the only plausible explanation?”

You never thought about it that way. Undertaker wasn’t wrong when he said Sebastian knew all about the supernatural. Though at first glance you wouldn’t think this butler in black would be knowledgeable of such topics. You thank him and turn to leave, but notice a glow cross his orbs and you do a double take, unsure if what you saw was only your imagination.

•••

Here you are back in town the next afternoon to run some errands. Young Master warned you to be more careful and to pay attention to the time so you didn’t have another mishap. You expected his tone to be much harsher, though he is more mindful of what he says to you, since you are his youngest servant.

You cross off the last reminder on your list, smiling to yourself. The timepiece reads a quarter to one and you’re expected to arrive back at 3, giving you a little over two hours to spare. A jittery feeling starts in your belly when you hear the bell chime as you enter. Yet again, Undertaker is nowhere to be seen, so you call out to him.

“Hello? Sir, it’s Y/N.”

It’s eerily silent as you walk further in. You sit your bags down on his desk carefully and decide to call him once more. “Hel—” you gasp, feeling icy hands cover your eyes.

“It’s me, dearie,” Undertaker whispers in your ear, causing goosebumps to raise over your body. You eventually relax into him and pull his hands from your face.

“You scared me,” you giggle and turn towards him.

Undertaker’s hat is gone and his hair is pinned back as he stands simply wearing both a black long sleeved shirt and pants. His bangs still fall into his eyes, and you can’t help but feel bubbly. He grins at you, rubbing your arm lightly. “It’s only been a week and I’m craving you, my little flower.”

He rubs circles on your hip and leans down to kiss you, but pauses above your lips. “Oh how I crave you... but you told our little secret, didn’t you?”

“No. I promise I kept my word, sir,” you shake your head.

He presses you onto his desk and runs his fingers up your spine, until he reaches the back of your neck, gripping it firmly. “That is what you say, but how can I be so sure, poppet? I had an unlikely visitor last night, you see. Hehe, I didn’t think you would turn around and disobey me like this.”

“I swear, I can prove it to you!”

It never crossed your mind that perhaps this visitor was Sebastian. You were too worked up to even notice that minor detail.

“Well, show me you’re innocent, love. Then I’ll believe you,” Undertaker orders curtly and pulls away.

You unfold your arms and reach behind yourself undoing your gown, letting it fall freely and the cool air causes your exposed nipples to harden. Undertaker reaches up to caress one of your breasts fondly, toying at your small bud. “How exactly does this prove anything, love?”

The truth was, you were innocent, but your mistake was letting Sebastian take your clothes. He never once impeded on your privacy nor searched through your garments. To him your arousal was just strong enough to detect and he didn’t condone a Phantomhive maid being intimate with a close ally of the Young Master. Sebastian was aware that Undertaker often revealed much more than he should and your little involvement threatened the trust he had with the earl.

Naive as you were, you knew that giving yourself up to Undertaker once more would not only distract him from finger pointing, but also allow you to feel his hands touching your body again.

You shrug at Undertaker, biting back a moan as continues his assault on your swollen peaks. He stops to wrap his arms around you, rutting his clothed hard on against your bare pussy. One of his hands travels down your back while the other rakes through his light bangs hastily. You watch him with wide eyes as he reveals a hard stare and you gulp, wondering what his next move will be. “Do you remember what I taught you last week? Something that I said before ravishing you.”

You shake your head. There was certainly more than just one thing that you considered to be a lesson.

He laughs in a shallow manner and wags a finger at you, “Once a lie is unraveled… the truth comes tumbling forth, my little flower.” He pauses for a moment to pinch your nipples, causing you to whimper. “Sebastian knows.”

Your mouth falls open, but for two reasons: you can’t believe that Sebastian would go to such lengths to find you out and also at that very moment Undertaker brushes across your clit, spreading your slick with his fingers. He eagerly teases you in every way possible, practically making you drip onto the floor.

“W-wait! H-how would he—”

Undertaker grunts, putting his fingers to his lips to taste you. He takes his time sucking each finger as if he devoured an entire meal, savoring your sweetness.

“He could sense it —your arousal— after you returned.”

“Sense it how? He must have snooped through my clothes,” you scoff.

Undertaker shakes his head, rolling his eyes at you, “Have you not gotten it, love? The butler is a demon.”

He places his hands beside you, leaning onto your much smaller frame. His nose ghosts over your ear as he speaks, “He popped by last night, apparently not very happy about us having it away. Hehe, I guess your arousal exposed us, dearie. Right now I shouldn’t be here touching you the way I am —I was warned. But you make me drool with anticipation for your delicate flower.”

Undertaker grins, his face visibly brightens. His hands grab on your hips, even after revealing this shocking information. His grip is possessive, trapping you against himself as he hums into your neck. You love every bit of how he is holding you and you want this feeling to last, but how could Undertaker remain so unbothered?

He whispers, telling you he is ready to take you once again. Though when he pulls away and his face comes into view, your heart starts to race, heavily unsettled. You notice the same glow in his eyes as Sebastian’s, but there is a different gleam lying behind them. You knew at that moment why Undertaker was so infactuated with telling you about other beings, and specifically Sebastian. He certainly isn’t human either.

Undertaker is utterly amused as he watches your eyes widen just as his cock slips deep inside you. He sees that you connected the dots to his secret and he chuckles. “What is wrong my little flower? Have you figured out my age yet? Or is it too many centuries to count on your fingers?” He grabs your hand and places a kiss along your knuckles with a sly grin.

————•————•————•————•————•————•————•————

— bugs

Taglist: @second-weeb-chick

[green-socks]

Hungry Eyes chapter 1

Pairing: Benny Miller x OFC (Dirty Dancing AU)

Summary: Dirty Dancing but here Benny is in the role of Baby and the dance instructor is a female OC. Benny goes to the resort with Will’s family (because who wouldn’t want cool uncle Benny to join their summer vacation?), and ends up falling for a dance instructor working on the resort. This first part is Benny and the dance instructor’s first meeting, basically the “I carried a watermelon” scene if you will.

Words: 1,818

Warnings: Alcohol/drinking, some curse words. Something else? Let me know!

Notes: This is one of those “I want to see it so I have to write it” situations. I have never ever written fiction before and this is scary as fuck, but I have this story in my head and now I’m trying to put it into words. I’m posting this part of the story now because I can, but I’m also working on a prologue of sorts.

This idea came to me in a dream (which was probably inspired by this headcanon ) and I told @the-purity-pen about it and she told me to write it. Without your encouragement I never would have even tried this fun thing and I’ll love you forever for it <3

And of course I’ll be eternally grateful to @astroboots for the beta and giving me that final push! Thank you for letting me ramble to you about this and being so lovely <3

Prologue

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

The night was warm, only the sounds of crickets and the slight rustle of wind keeping Benny company on his walk. Most people on the resort, like his brother and his family, had already retired to their cabins and rooms for the night. It was quiet, calm.

Despite what many people thought, Benny enjoyed the quiet. Needed it, in fact. He was always energetic around people, giving them all of himself. And he didn’t have to fake that energy, but sometimes even he needed to wind down and enjoy some peace and quiet. These walks, this whole vacation, was his time to relax and just be.

Benny was walking along a path near where the hiking trails begin when he heard the quiet thumping of bass through the night air. The further he walked along the path the louder the music got.

Through the bushes and trees Benny could see a house a little further up the hill. There seemed to be a party going on there, judging by the noise and music coming through its open windows. Benny wondered who were partying there and if the house even belonged to the resort or if it was a private property.

He continued walking, thinking he’d just walk past the house and continue further into the woods, when he saw a woman on the bottom of the stairs leading to the house. She was carrying a big box in her arms, clearly struggling under the weight of it.

“Hey! Do you need help with that?” Benny hollered to the woman.

She let out a breath. “Sure, thanks,” she answered, while handing Benny the box and starting to climb up the stairs. “Hope it isn’t too heavy!”

“Nah, doesn’t weigh a thing. We goin’ to the party house over there?” Benny asked, nodding his head in the direction of it.

“You’re technically not supposed to be here, you know. It’s off limits to resort guests.”

“I can keep a secret”, Benny grinned. 

“What’s your name?” she asked him. “Benny.” “Nice to meet you Benny. My name’s Lily,” she added, pointing to the name tag still on her work shirt.

“Anyway, some of us who work on the resort live in this house for the summer, and sometimes we throw parties. But they’re strictly for a limited group of people, and we could get into a lot of trouble if our employees or other resort guests found out, so you better keep your mouth shut,” she warned sternly.

“I promise I won’t tell a soul.”

They continued up the stairs and Benny heard the telltale clinking of bottles from the box even through the loudening music.

“Wait, you’re all of age, right? Cause this is a lot of booze”, Benny asked, suddenly slightly worried about assisting these partiers.

“Oh yeah, don’t worry, we have a strict no minors policy!” Lily answered.

With that they reached the top of the stairs and Lily held open the door for him into the house.

Benny wasn’t fully prepared to the sight that greeted him.

Sure, he had seen his share of parties, especially with his boys, but these people were wild.

There were no more than twenty people in the room, but they were all dancing like no tomorrow. Benny doubted they even needed all the booze he was carrying to let loose like that.

He watched in awe the mass of bodies moving to the beat, everyone shaking, grinding, jumping, twisting, and twirling around without a care in the world.

“Who are these people?” He asked incredulously, eyes wide.

Lily laughed at his shock. “We’re the entertainment team! Most of us are dancers or come from a theater background. Now come on!” she said and led him deeper into the house.

Benny suddenly felt like some silly delivery boy, even though he was probably older than most of them, when he maneuvered around the dancing people, trying to watch his step. Some of them spared him curious glances before getting lost in the music again.

“I imagine you don’t dance like this during the day when you’re doing dance classes on the resort?” Benny joked, still trying to get his bearings.

“Oh hell no, this is just for our own entertainment here,” Lily laughed again.

Suddenly two more people burst through the door, arm in arm, and everyone cheered happily in greeting. 

A man and a woman, who Benny recognized as the lead dance instructors on the resort, joined the party, immediately grabbing drinks and making their way through the dancefloor.

Benny noticed how they seemed to greet everyone individually by dancing with them; how they took eye contact and often physical contact with everyone and danced with them for a while before moving on, each one with a slightly different way. It was like they were speaking to one another, all these bodies communicating through movement alone.

He was mesmerized looking at them both, the attractive couple that were clearly the life of the party. But he couldn’t take his eyes off the woman who seemed to move so easily, so freely, the joy and love she was feeling visible in her every movement.

Benny couldn’t believe this was the same woman who had taught a dance class to his nieces earlier that same day. Sure, he had noticed her even then, how could he not; she was very pretty.

But the woman he was seeing now was sexy, confident, nothing like Benny had seen before.

“Those are my friends Patrick and Jolene, they helped me get this job!” Lily shouted in his ear over the music.

“They seem to have great chemistry,” Benny remarked, his gaze still focusing mostly on Jolene.

“Yeah, it’s because they know each other so well. People always think they’re together --“ Benny certainly thought their very physical and intimate way of dancing would mean that “-- but they’re just best friends from a long time”, Lily chatted casually, oblivious to Benny’s thoughts.

Benny found his heart beating a little faster with this information, not that he really knew what to do with it.

His mouth was getting dry and he was breathing a little quicker. For fuck’s sake, he was getting a little turned on from watching her. Get it together man, he thought to himself.

Benny tried not to stare too hungrily; he didn’t want to be that creepy guy at the party that no one even knew.

The longer he watched these people dancing their hearts out the more he found himself slightly bopping along the beat, wishing he had a beer in hand, or maybe that he knew how to dance like they did.

______________

Jolene was enjoying herself, finally letting off steam after a hard day’s work. Few things on this earth made her happier than dancing, especially dancing with her best friend Patrick on these summer nights they got to spend together.

As she spun around in Patrick’s strong arms, she noticed the tall stranger standing near the back of the room next to Lily. Who the heck was this guy and where did he come from?

Jo tapped Patrick on the shoulder to let him know she was going to get something to drink and made her way through the crowd towards Lily and the stranger.

“Hey, Lil. Who’s your friend here?”

“Oh, this is Benny. He came with me.” Lily answered happily.

“Yeah, I, uh, helped her carry the box up here”, the guy, Benny, supplied shyly in a deep voice, pointing at the box in question.

Jo gave Lily a stern look. She really should’ve known better than to bring customers up here. These parties were kept a secret for a good reason, since they could all lose their jobs if the resort managers found out, but especially her and Patrick, because they were responsible for their team. And they were already on thin ice as it were, because, in Jo’s humble opinion, the managers were a bunch of jerks.

Lily just shrugged and Jo sighed deeply before turning to look at the man next to her, who, for some reason, was avoiding her gaze.

“Well, Benny, would you like to dance?” Jo thought she could size the guy up a little better if she could get him alone with her. She had to look after her team after all. Besides, he looked a little lonely, bopping along the music shyly. Maybe she could teach him a few things.

Benny looked a little startled, as he answered “Oh, I don’t know how to dance”.

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you,” Jo said, pulling him on the dancefloor.

“C’mon, just follow my lead. Do this. And try to feel the rhythm.” Jo started showing him how to move to the beat, swaying from side to side.

“Good, now loosen your hips a little more,” Jo instructed, putting her hands on his hips and directing his movements.

Jo had to hand it to the guy; he was learning surprisingly quickly, and it was refreshing to see a man who was willing to try and learn dancing even if it was a bit awkward at first. His movements were a little stunted, but he clearly had a good ear for the rhythm. He was even smiling and laughing a little at his own awkwardness, but Jo could see he was also enjoying himself.

“Okay, now let’s try this. Follow my lead again,” Jo said, putting her hands on his broad shoulders. He was so tall she had to reach pretty far, but they managed it anyway. Jo stepped closer and started grinding against him, showing him how to move by using her own body to guide him.

Slowly Benny was easing into it, even putting his arms on her waist.

“Okay, you’re getting the hang of it now!” Jo smiled at him proudly and he grinned back.

_______________

Benny was actually enjoying himself. He was dancing with a gorgeous woman and he wasn’t making a complete and total fool of himself. He considered that a victory at this point.

He just knew Santi would be laughing his ass off if he could see Benny now. Will probably would tease him too.

Benny grinned at the thought. But hey, they weren’t here and he was having fun so who cares, he thought.

Although he had to admit, he was still a little shocked at the fact that this amazing dancer was dancing with him and even looking like she wasn’t completely hating it.

He was still a little dazed when the song ended and Jolene patted his arm, told him “See you around” and bounced her way to the middle of the crowd again.

“Yeah, uh, see ya,” Benny muttered after her, standing awkwardly on the edge of the dancefloor.

Deciding he had probably already overstayed his welcome Benny readjusted his hat on his head and quietly headed out to the warm night air again.

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

Chapter 2

Notes: If you read this far I don’t even know how to react. Thank you?If you like Benny and/or Dirty Dancing we can probably bond over that

[bellatrixobsessed1]

A Spark In The Snow (Part 2)

This is probably gonna have more of a loose plot. I have a storyline set up here but some of the chapters are probably going to mostly just be shenanigans featuring Azula with Alcina and the Dimidaughters.

Alcina eyes the slumbering child. She has been a charming presence at castle Dimitrescu for a little over a month now. More than charming, the girl has become something of a gem to her. Something just as important and precious as her own daughters. Another black rose for her dress.

For all of her chaotic streaks and stranger mannerisms, the girl is everything Alcina could have asked for and then some. She only hopes that Mother Miranda will be just as impressed.

She isn’t sure what she will do if the woman decides that her fourth child is unworthy. What she will do if that simpleton, Karl is crass and crude with the girl. She wonders what the girl will make of Moreau--that cretin isn’t exactly pleasing on the eyes. She isn’t all to worried about Donna. Quiet and soft spoken Donna who would probably dote over Azula. It is Angie that might cause a stir.

She finds the the girl is prone to fitful slumber often waking up and crying out or crying out without having woken at all. She wonders what the girl dreams of. What troubles her so deeply. Alcina thinks of her own fears and nightmares; inadequacy, rejection, the very notion of losing any of her children…

She frets that all of these fears will come to pass in one fell swoop should Mother Miranda decide that Azula is a distraction or of no use. Absently she finds herself rubbing circles upon the sleeping girl’s back. Tonight seems to be a good night for her. So far she has slept without so much as a whimper or flinch. And maybe it is because this time she has fallen asleep propped up against an also slumbering Daniela.

Alcina stands up and tosses a blanket over the both of them. She takes a generous mouthful of wine and leans back in her chair. She closes her eyes but there is no sense in trying to sleep; her mind is unsettled and it will remain so until the family meeting comes to pass.

.oOo.

Azula isn’t sure what has Alcina so agitated. She only knows that she is by the lack of conversation. Having enough of the silence Azula clears her throat, “good morning mother.”

Alcina gives a small cough, if only to give herself that much more time to gather herself. “Yes, good morning, darling.”

“You’re nervous.” She observes and the woman grows more tense.

“I...there is to be a meeting with my family today. I will be introducing you to them.”

She furrows her brows. “You think that they won’t like me.” And for the first time in ages she finds herself worrying over whether or not she is good enough. “I won’t be setting anything on fire in front of them.” Agni, she has been careless. She has let herself grow too comfortable…

“Mother Miranda is a picky woman. Hard to please. I assure you that whatever misgivings she might have with or about you are no fault of your own.”

She knows that it is meant to be reassuring when she feels a hand on her back. And yet she can’t find it within herself to be reassured. Unknowingly or not, she has come here to get away from the pressure for perfection. And she has been thriving in her freedoms. And now this Mother Miranda seeks to take that from her.

Mothers… She has known only one good one. She looks up at that pale and elegant face. And she doesn’t want to lose her.

Her mother. Her mother and her three sisters. “What is expected of me?”

Alcina looks off for a moment. “She will probably take a liking to your fire. It is a...thing of interest.”

Azula nods. So this Mother Miranda is more like her father. She grits her teeth as a chill passes through her. “I will exceed your expectations, I promise.” She knows how to work a person like that. How to display her talents in the most satisfactory way, how to choose the most pleasing words, the words that people like to hear. “I know what I’m doing.”

.oOo.

But there is nothing that the girl can possibly say to reassure her. The unease and the feeling that she will lose one of the things that she treasures the most follows her throughout her day to day activities. She can barely eat for it, can’t bring herself to drink or rest. And so she finds herself at the family gathering hungry and tired and stressed among other unpleasantries.

She tries, to the best of her ability, to hold herself high and proudly. She observes the girl who looks most admirably collected and composed, chin up with her hands folded neatly in her lap in spite of the eyes that so plainly observe her.

Alcina has been so busy fretting over what her family might think of Azula that she hadn’t thought to worry over what she might think of them. Is it so unlikely that Azula will get a taste of them and decide that it is bitter and disgusting on her tongue?

“Who is this?” Mother Miranda asks.

And so it begins,  “Mother Miranda, this is Azula. You will find that she is a very powerful and clever girl.” She pauses. “And she has a peculiar ability. A natural ability.”

“I should like to see it.”

Azula looks to Alcina and she nods her approval. “Go on, darling.”

The girl rises and inhales deeply. For a moment she closes her eyes and then the flames rise and with them so does the temperature. In a small and rigidly controlled ring they lick a cold and dancing blue. She raises her arms and the flames fan higher, she brings them down and the flames burn low. She releases her hold on them briefly to kick small bursts into the air.

She is an agile thing, graceful and fluid, light on her feet. She is effective and mesmerising. She lands with a soft thud and extinguishes her flames. She doesn’t bend nor bow. Rather she looks Mother Miranda in the eye directly. Alcina’s stomach flutters--she can only shift in her chair and hope that the girl’s display has earned her enough respect for the offense to slide.

“Fascinating.” Mother Miranda notes. And in that one word, the girl’s fate is sealed. It is the only word that Mother Miranda says of the girl and her fire. The only word and Alcina isn't sure exactly what to make of it.

Surely it can’t be a word of disapproval, the girl would be dead already if it were. At Mother Miranda’s mercy, Azula has been left to mingle with Moreau, Beneviento, and that louse Heisenberg. That louse Heisenberg who she takes a rather resentful shine to.

She has a flood of questions for him about his silly inventions and machines and he has an onslaught of answers to return.

Decidedly, Alcina shouldn’t be surprised; the girl has a curious nature, an insatiable appetite for knowledge. And this world has technologies that she has never seen. Lightbulbs had been a thing of mystery to her and then a thing to appreciate--lightning bending trapped in glass, or so she had called them. Alcina can’t help but think it is absurd, but the girl has a collection of lightbulbs in her room, both burnt out and never used.  

“You could create some amazing war machines for the Fire Nation. We can take back our glory with inventions…”

The unease in Alcina’s stomach grows, what if the girl decides that she enjoys Heisenberg’s company more. She clears her throat, “we should head back to castle Dimitrescu, darling.”

Azula seems to hesitate, disappointment flickering across her face.

“Aww come on, Alci, the girl has an interest in this stuff.” He gestures to his ridiculous hammer. “And I haven’t had anyone willing to let me ramble on about it in years.”

“There will be plenty of time for rambling later.” Alcina replies stiffly. “My daughter has had a long day and could use some rest.”

“She’s sweet.” Donna notes softly. “I would like to have a chance to speak with her myself.”

“And what say you, Moreau? Should you like quality time with my daughter?”

The man bobs his head. “If she will talk to me.” He seems to shrink back as Azula’s piercing gold eyes find him.

“But you’re afraid of her?” Heisenberg laughs.

Moreau’s head bobs again.

Hurt flickers across Azula’s face and Donna reaches out, “don’t worry, Moreau is fearful of most people.”

“You have a strong personality, that much I can tell.” Heisenberg notes. “That’s more than enough to scare Moreau.”

“Right, of course. Timid men fear powerful women.”

Alcina smiles quite smugly, “that is correct, my dear. You learn fast.”

“This is all very charming.” Mother Miranda speaks up once more and this time Alcina isn’t the only one to go tense. “But we have other matters to discuss. You all will have plenty of time to converse with the girl afterwards.”

And for just a few hours Alcina can relax. Azula has been accepted into the family. She has left an honorable impression.  

It only dawns upon her as she is tucking herself in, that Mother Miranda may have a fate worse than death in mind for her. Azula is the perfect host. A good body to revive her own daughter with.  

[jonspurpleskirt]

An Unlikely Befriending

Summary: Jon gets kidnapped. Jon gets bored. And Jon makes very unlikely friends because of it. Aka: Pen and Paper saves the day (world) and Jon finally gets to have a band. A/N: This is pure fluff, no warnings apply I think. ___

The worst thing about being kidnapped by a crazy mannequin murder clown monstrousity and sitting in a cold, room with creepy wax works, tied to a chair was not the ever present terror. True the fear of Nikola finally deeming his skin good enough and skinning him alive was quite potent, but it wasn't as bad as boredom.

Jon had never taken well to waiting. His mind needed to be occupied 24/7, needed something to latch onto, to obsess about. It's why he became a researcher in the first place. Having most of his freedom taken from him made occupying himself very hard.

At least they still let him eat and drink here and there. Nikola always visited personally, her overly cheery voice bubbling forth as she chattered away while slathering him with lotion or shoving bits of take out food in his mouth. His diet those last two weeks had been very varied and healthy and he had never drank so much water before.

He still probably looked a mess, what with no access to a shower and barely being able to sleep at all. And the constant terror. Oh yeah and the boredom.

Oh the boredom.

Jon was currently sitting in his chair as he was wont to do. Thankfully not nailed down despite all the nagging from Sarah Baldwin. The coffin was singing or moaning with a slight melody behind it, depending on who you asked. And somehow Jon found himself humming along, trying to find a good melody to go with the haunting tune. It wasn't like he had anything better to do and if he didn't start doing something creative his mind would start eating itself soon.

So he hummed, experimenting with the notes, twisting them into something that was reminiscent of circus music and airships. And then he kept humming the melody over and over, forming words in his mind to go with the tune. Once the spark was lit a fire started to burn, the story branching out and out into a twirling mass of chaos and fire.

He had gotten lost in his imagination, hadn't noticed how loud he had become, hadn't heard Nikola approach. Jon screeched when she leant down over him and grinned at him upside down, nose nearly touching his.

Nikola had the gall to laugh at him, no breath fanning over his face as she did so.

"Awww Archivist! I didn't know you had such a nice voice!"

"Hrmph."

"Yes your singing was also quite good!" She straightened herself, back cracking in several places. Striding around his chair she towered over him, tattered, bloody ringmaster uniform filling his field of vision.

"I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to sing, of course! And the broken repeat is lovely."

"Hm."

"Anyway water time!"

With gleeful cackling she ripped the tape from his mouth, amused enough to not immediately shove the bottle between his teeth.

"There are words to it, too." Jon rushed to say, not exactly sure why. What was he offering her here? A solo performance?

"Oh?" she at least didn't tape his mouth shut again. For now.

After waiting several beats where both stared at each other and nothing else happened Jon dared to speak up again.

"I ah... well I wrote it myself? Not wrote, of course. My hands are tied at the moment-" He was rambling. Nikola had given him the freedom of speech and he was off like a shot, telling her everything about what he had been thinking about before she had interrupted his impromptu jamming session, terror completely terminating his brain to mouth filter.

Nikola, for her part, took it all in stride. She even settled on the floor in front of him, blinking every now and then to indicate that she was still present.

"It's such a shame." she finally spoke, holding the water bottle to his mouth, letting him drink of his own volution for once. "You would have made a perfect piece for the choir. Hm maybe what will be left of you will do."

"I could sing for you now." Jon offered as soon as his mouth was free again.

Nikola startled at the offer and Jon just shrugged as much as he was able to. He'd rather sing to a creepy murder doll than spend one minute longer alone and bored out of his mind. And if he could delay the Unknowing (and the violent removal of his skin) by keeping Nikola entertained than even better.

That sounded like he almost had a plan. Which was untrue. He only had a very strong desire for entertainment.

"No sneaky questions." Nikola warned.

"Promise. I can't guarantee good quality rhymes, though. I'm still workshopping."

Singing out loud what had been in his head was always an awkward affair. He had wanted to start a band with Georgie in uni. But it was exactly because of this that he had never bothered.

"That was fun!" Nikola screamed after he was finished nontheless. Clapping her hands in delight, which created a horrible cracking noise.

"I'm glad? I also DM."

She tilted her head at him. "What's that?"

Jon explained the concept of pen and paper games to her while she rubbed lotion into his skin and had her hooked immediately.

Later that day (or maybe the next day, really Jon had no concept of time anymore) Jon was for the first time allowed out of his chair, carefully rubbing circulation back into his hands. Nikola had only briefly left him alone after watering and lotioning him. They had hashed out what kind of world and system they wanted to use (a horror setting, of course) and then Nikola was off and dragging Breekon and Hope back into the room so they had enough people to play.

Either Breekon or Hope sat down behind Jon, large hands lightly clasping his arms, squeezing every once in a while to remind him that should he try and escape he would only end up in pain.

Jon shifted awkwardly in the grip, unused to gentleness even if it was supposed to be threatening.

"Alright. First, character creation. Who do you guys want to play?"

It became a daily thing. The three beings in his group quickly became addicted to his story telling and to the characters they were allowed to play. Nikola tore through characters, trying on different personalities like pieces of clothing. She had a beautiful eery singing voice, Jon was surprised to find out when she had decided to play a member of a steampunk band.

Breekon and Hope were less manic, too attached to their twins to play anyone else. They changed voices and accents every session, though. Jon deigned to ignore their shenanigans, scared to make them angry. He hadn't had this much fun in ages, he didn't want to loose that.

The two delivery men took turns holding him down while they played, Hope holding onto his arms and Breekon using him like a child would a Teddy bear.

Eventually the three lingered after their sessions had ended, the ropes that tied him to his chair less tight. Jon tried to keep the conversations casual, to not ask all the questions that burned at the tip of his tongue. He found that he didn't need to. Tongue loose from goofing around Nikola was often chatty, Breekon and Hope throwing in their two cents every once in a while.

Eventually the topic about Tims younger brother came up.

"Danny Stoker? Grimauldi skinned him? Hm..." Nikolas head nearly dislodged as she stared at the ceiling in thought. "Noooo." She giggled. "We didn't skin anyone that night, silly! We were scoping out locations for the dance! Danny's little group stumbled into us and got a little confused~"

"But Tim saw Grimauldi rip Dannys skin off of a puppet."

Nikola shrugged. "An illusion. We're good at making you people see things that aren't really there. Yet."

"So Danny is alive?"

"I believe so!~ If he didn't die in a ditch somewhere."

Jon was very careful to keep his voice as soft as possible with the next question. "Could you find him again and bring him to the Institute? To Tim and... I don't know... maybe that's a stupid idea given that he can't be sure it's really him..."

"If I track him down do I get inspiration for my character next session?"

"That's cheating." Breekon complained under his breath behind Jon.

"I... yes?"

Nikola grinned. "Wonderful! I see what I can do!"

Days went by like that, Nikola or Breekon or Hope updating him on Dannys search, which had turned out to be harder than they had thought. Well at least Jon was keeping them busy.

They were in the middle of racing a burning train into the central bank of London when a door creaked behind Jon, bathing the room in technicolour and spiral shapes.

"That is not what I thought I'd find here." A voice that wavered between confused and gleeful mused.

Jon twisted in the grip Breekon had on him. "Hello Michael."

"Hello Archivist. You've found yourself in an interesting situation." The grin Michael shot him was a knife glinting in the light before striking.

"Yes. Why are you here?"

Nikola had let him practice after Jon had explained his lack of training, much more lax with her hostage now that he fed her fascinating stories of blood and gore. So there was no trace of compulsion in his voice when he asked the question.

Michael answered truthfully anyway. "I came to kill you of course!"

"I have dips on that!" Nikola said, voice pleasant and grin feral.

"I'm sorry about that. Would you like to join the game instead?"

Michael stared at him as though he had grown mad. Impressed, curious and lightly terrified. Then it laughed that horrible, headache inducing laugh.

"There's a lot of lies and delusion." Jon coaxed, heart beating out of his chest with nerves.

"He's a good storyteller." Hope added, Nikola and Breekon nodding along.

"Hm alright. I guess I can play for a bit."

It didn't stay just for a bit. Michael stayed through the finale of the story and then demanded to start another, their little ragtag group of definitely not heroes causing more chaos than any other player group Jon had ever DMed before. And that was saying something. Hours upon hours passed, Michael disappearing and reappearing to get Jon coffee and tea to keep his voice from giving out.

In the middle of it all Michael began twitching and twisting, glitching in and out of sight before slumping to the ground with a groan, form for once near comprehensible. Another door opened and out walked Helen looking down at the Distortion in disappointment.

"Oh that didn't destroy you. Shame."

"Helen?"

"Hello Jon! I was coming to rescue you given that Michael got a little distracted. Do you want to come to the archives with me?"

Honestly Jon should have been shocked, probably angry. He was definitely sad. And yet the most he felt was just an overwhelming sense of whelp.

Jon vaguely gestured towards Nikola, as much as Breekons hold allowed him to. "Ask her."

"We're not done yet."

"Later then?"

Nikola considered Jon for a long moment, both staring unblinking at each other. "Give us an hour."

To Jons great surprise Helen just nodded and delicately sat on the chair Jon usually frequented in his "freetime" all prim and proper except for the long sharp fingers curling at the edges like corkscrews.

"Now where were we?"

Michael groaned from the floor for once not smiling. Jon felt a twinge of sympathy for him.

"Are you alright?"

"Been better. Been worse. Let's burn this village down!"

There was no end to the tale they had been playing, not with just one session of playtime. Jon felt a bit bad about that, especially because he had left it at a cliffhanger. No one seemed to be angry at him for it, though. Michael had recovered fast and was again his usual ominous cheery, albeit lightly aggressive self. He poked and prodded at Helen like a curious cat while Nikola massaged lotion into Jons skin for the last time and handed him several expensive looking bottles, rattling down a step by step skin care routine he was to follow to the t or else she would break into his house and do it herself.

Hope patted him on the head. "See you around, Archivist."

"You're really letting me go? Just like that?" Jon still couldn't believe it.

Nikola shrugged. "I found another option. And I'd like to keep doing this after the Unknowing."

"Will that be even possible?"

The grin he got from was not at all reassuring. "I don't know~"

Well that was probably the best he would get from her. Jon gave a hesitant tiny wave and, flanked by both Michael and Helen stepped through their door.

Back at the archive no one had even questioned his disappearance. A fact that made Michael and Helen laugh, even though they both refused to leave as Tim, Melanie and Basira questioned him about his whereabouts.

Martin was the only one who took Jons forced vacation in stride. Maybe he even was a little too happy about a group of mannequins harassing him to take better care of himself.

"You're not compromised now, are you?" Basira asked when Jon had settled back into his office after a long shower.

"No? Because I still don't want the world to end?"

"Good."

Somehow Jon knew that she would still keep an eye on him from now on.

~~~

When the day came to blow up the ritual site Jon hadn't slept a wink in three nights and was overcome by guilt. Despite how aweful his initial time at the circus had been and despite him knowing what horrible things Nikola and her kin did in their freetime, Jon still felt bad about probably killing her.

He tried to rationalize his feelings away, connecting his rising anxiety with the fact that Danny still hadn't been found. It was a flimsy denial.

Tim stayed by his side the whole time, resolute in his burning desire for vengeance. Jon was scared that he would loose him to this, too. Had confessed as much to Michael and Helen, who had taken to keeping at least one door manifested somewhere in the tunnels at all times. The two had started to get along well after some initial disagreement. The Spiral, split as it was between the two of them, was weaker in its influence now, leaving more of Michael Shelley and Helen Richardson to make decisions.

They weren't here now. Daisy, Basira and Tim were, setting up explosives and arguing about rescuing people that were already long dead.

And then Nikola appeared and the dance started and nothing made sense anymore.

Jon woke up six months later, Georgie calling him a monster and Basira giving him a statement to "eat" catching him up on everything he had missed. Tim had miraculously survived, having been dragged through a door by either Helen or Michael. Daisy and Basira had encountered Breekon and Hope, who had argued about what they should do with "Jons feral friends" and in the end had led them savely out of the building before it could go boom, muttering about possible inspiration points.

The only one who hadn't been saved was Jon. He tried not to feel too hurt about that.

Coming back to work was as anti climatic as it had been after the kidnapping. The only one who seemed happy to see him was Martin. He had apologized profusely for the hug and promptly stopped doing so when Jon dashed forward and back into Martins warm embrace, finally breaking down.

He had been too caught up in his crying to make a note of the little kiss Martin pressed into his hair.

They all were a little lost after averting the apocalypse, normal everyday life eluding them. Elias might have been out of the picture for the moment, but Peter Lukas had taken over and fighting against the isolation was taking its toll on everyone.

They were all huddled in the breakroom, faces grim and stewing in silence so as to not break into an arguement when they got their delivery.

Breekon and Hope stepped into the small space with their usual nonchalance dragging a scared young man between them, who had a lot of resemblance to Tim.

"Delivery for Jonathan Sims. Nikola says hi."

Tim was the first one up. "No... No no nononononono that can't be. He's dead. Jon. Jon tell me is that really him?!"

Jon looked at the scared man, who had his gaze locked on Tim, recognition slowly dawning on his face. He Looked and he Knew.

"Yes. No one was killed the night Danny disappeared. His group encountered Nikola and her troupe during a rehearsal, got confused and then lost. And was lost ever since. Nikola told me of this. She promised to find him for me, for you."

That was all Tim needed to rush forward, catching his brother in his arms and hugging him close. "Danny!"

Danny clung back just as tightly, awareness barely back. Still obviously shaken and confused.

Jon smiled at the two delivery men. "Thank you. Will he... will he be alright."

Hope shrugged. "Dunno. Nikola said to make him remember bit by bit. Been not Danny for a long time. Might need to get used to it again."

"We'll take it slow." Tim promised, silent tears streaming down his face.

"Good luck. Hey Archivist, do we get inspiration, too?"

Jon laughed, incredulous. The others in the room watched the exchange with varying degress of exasperation and outrage.

"You know what? Yes. Yes you have. And I'll give you all advantage on your rolls next session. Only that one session, though! Same for Nikola. How is she, by the way?"

Breekon made a so-so sign. "Restless. We've waited over six months to find out what happens after  that cliffhanger you gave us."

"Right." He still couldn't believe it. "Tonight 8 o'clock, my flat?"

Twin grins, the most excited he had ever seen them. "See you then, Archivist."

Tim was still gently hushing his brother, rocking back and forth on his feet to try and calm him down a little. And he still had tears streaming down his face, looking like an absolute wreck. But he still managed to join the unimpressed stares that were thrown his way by everyone but Martin, who at this point had just started to roll with the punches.

"You really befriended the clown club and made them rescue literally all of us?" Basira asked in a deadpan voice.

"I kind of feel cheap now." Daisy muttered. "As though those clowns let us win."

"Look, what can I say? Pen and Paper games are fun. I can't blame them. And Nikola did want to start a band."

"Oh my god." Melanie groaned, her head thunking onto the table. "I can't believe it."

"A band?" Basira asked, suddenly much more alert. They really had gotten quite desensitized to the whole monster thing, hadn't they? "What, you can sing?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. But really. Shouldn't we... I mean shouldn't we focus on Danny? There's a cot-"

"I know." Tim interrupted. "We all know there's a cot. I'll take him home, you keep talking about your weird band plans. Monster boss? We talk later, but... thank you."

Silence reigned long enough to follow Tim out of the Institute before Martin piped up, cheeks reddening before he had even opened his mouth. "Could we... Could we have a taste?"

"A taste? Of what? My voice?"

"Hold up, if Sims is going to sing I'll have to record it." Melanie tapped on her phone and held it into the room as one would do a microphone. "Alright go."

Jon sighed, what he didn't do to keep up the group morale.

"Aww shit." Was Basiras conclusion when he was done. "What kind of music were you thinking of playing?"

"Steampunk."

"Count me in."

~~~

Today had been weird, Jon thought, mind reeling from the whiplash of... kindness? That had happened after the delivery of one Danny Stoker. Granted the last month, no

year

had been weird. But this had topped it all. At least it had been a nice weird.

Jon had nearly forgotten about his appointment with a certain group of Strangers when he got back to his flat, overworked, hungry and still processing. So he should be forgiven for the scream he let out when he saw three large figures huddling on his too small couch.

"You haven't been taking care of your skin at all!"

There was no time to duck away from the cold, hard hands that fluttered all over his body. Nikola squished his cheeks like a proper grandmother, clearly unhappy about their elasticity.

"I was in a coma for six months."

"And awake for a few weeks now." A cheerful male voice said from behind him, bringing the smell of pizza with it.

"We were there he didn't take care of himself at all!" Helen added, putting down several cans of soda and what looked to be instant coffee.

"You're horrible!" Nikola wailed, manhandling him until he was squished between Breekon and Hope. "All my beautiful work! Ruined!"

"Uh... sorry?"

"You can make it up to us with weekly sessions." Michael suggested with a grin.

"Both on Saturday and Sunday!" Helen added.

"I actually planned for Sunday to be band day." Jon lied. "Basira wants to join, by the way."

They were all settled around the small coffee table now, food and drink on the floor so they had enough place to roll their dice.

"Wonderful! What did you think we'd name it?"

Jon tilted his head given the illusion of thinking it over even though he had known what to name his band since highschool.

"The Mechanisms."

[jobean12-blog]

Top Shelf: Chapter 8- Drunk In Love

Paring: Bucky x reader (Bookshop/bartender AU)

Word Count: 2,656

Summary: You have a fun night hanging with Bucky at the bar and a wonderful time at Sunday dinner with grandma but then Bucky drops some bad news...

Author’s Note: So I know I usually post on Monday’s but this week is the HBC’s week of kinks and I’m super excited and plan on writing something small each day so I figured I would put this out a day early since it was ready. Thank you all for your continued support. I used the photo of 1940s!Bucky as Bucky’s grandpa :) I love him so. Your amazing kindess and loveliness really keeps me going with this. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading! Love you all ❤❤❤ (ps the italics toward the end is Betty’s story of how she met James/grandpa :)

Warnings: Fluff, sweet Bucky (when is he not haha), smut (thigh riding, sorry not sorry), implied smut, alcohol consumption, angst (I’m sorry!) 18+ only please

Previous Chapters: 

Chapter 1: Enchantment

Chapter 2: Cookie Crumble

Chapter 3: Sweet Anticipation

Chapter 4: Read Between the Limes

Chapter 5: Secrets on the Shelf

Chapter 6: Love Between the Covers

Chapter 7: Love Lines & Sould Finds

“Yes,” you whisper, suddenly feeling like you jumped the gun, but the words had just spilled out. “I’d love to be your boyfriend, if you’ll have me?” He says the first part so decisively and with so much certainty that you just stare up at him and smile. “So, is that a yes?” he asks, his grin lopsided. You jump and throw your arms around his neck, kissing him firmly before breaking into a smile and whispering, “yes, definitely yes.”

When the two of you finally come back to reality you see Sam standing with his arm around Nat, both giving you knowing smiles.  “Back to work Barnes,” Sam says, his eyes bright. “Oh, yea!” Bucky replies, giving you a squeeze and another quick kiss. He hops around the bar; his head held a bit higher and a pep in his step.

Nat rushes over and grabs your hands, “I TOLD YOU!” she yells over the loud chatter of the bar. You try to contain your happiness to a small squeal but fail when she starts hopping. “I feel like I’m drunk but I haven’t even had a sip of my drink yet! Speaking of, where are our drinks?” She reaches behind you and grabs two cold glasses, handing you one. “Try it! It’s amazing!”

The rest of the night is spent chatting and laughing with Nat while Sam and Bucky work the bar. More often than you’d like to admit your eyes drift to Bucky behind the bar. His sleeves are rolled up and the top few buttons of his shirt are undone, giving you plenty to ogle. Every so often he catches you staring, and you watch his eyes darken making your breath hitch. “Stop eye fucking your boyfriend, please,” Nat teases, emphasizing the word boyfriend.

With a startle you whip your head around, “what?!? I am not doing any such thing.” You turn back to look at Bucky, his eyes crinkled in a smile as he laughs. “I mean, maybe that’s exactly what I was doing but can you blame me? Look at him!” Now Nat throws her head back with laughter, “no, I guess I can’t.” Throwing Bucky a wink and an appreciative smile, you try to keep a straight face as you waggle your eyebrows.

It’s after 2am when the bar starts to close, you and Nat swiveling around on the stools and giggling. “Should we help them clean up?” Nat blows a raspberry, making a face and says, “no way!” a little too loudly. “No way, what?” Sam asks, sidling up beside Nat with a smirk. “Nat doesn’t think we should help you two clean up,” you say quickly, trying not to laugh. “Oh, I see how it is,” Sam teases. Bucky catches your eye as he’s walking to the back and motions for you to follow. You tell Nat and Sam you’ll be right back, leaving them to their fun.

Following Bucky to the back you watch him place the container of clean glasses down on counter. He rinses his hands and wipes them clean with a towel before starting to unbutton his shirt. You’re leaning in the doorway, your eyes fixed on his long fingers as they easily work their way down his shirt. He reaches the bottom and looks up, pulling his shirt off and smirking at your reaction. “See something you like, doll?”

Your eyes travel down his chest, following the trail of hair from his pecs to the waistband of his jeans. His ab muscles flex as he grabs his backpack and pulls out a tee shirt, your bottom lip now caught between your teeth as you try to hold back a moan. Throwing the tee shirt over his shoulder he stalks toward you, his arm reaching over your head and pulling the door shut with a click, the motion pushing you closer to him as the door nudges your back.

“Hi,” is all you manage to say, your fingers dancing over his skin as pins you against the door. His hands cup your face, gently brushing your hair back before he kisses you, slow and deep. He parts your leg with his thigh, and you gasp into his mouth, your dress riding up, so the fabric of your underwear rubs on his jeans. You can’t help the way your hips move along the thick muscle of his thigh, the friction hitting just the right spot.

Grabbing onto his shoulders you continue moving your hips back and forth, your orgasm building quickly as Bucky’s mouth travels over your neck. “Bucky, oh my god,” is all that leaves your mouth before your body trembles and you cum on his thigh, your wetness soaking through your underwear.

Bucky carefully moves his leg and holds you up, bringing your lips to his. “That was so fucking hot,” he murmurs into your mouth. “We need to go home; my jeans are way too tight right now.” You giggle and give him a nod, running your hand over the bulge in his pants, “yes, I want to go home right now.”

With quick goodbyes to Nat and Sam you leave the bar. The cool night air is a stark contrast to your heated skin as you make your way down Eldridge Street. Bucky can’t keep his hands off you, stopping to kiss you every few feet. When you finally reach his building, he opens the door and practically sprints up the steps, the two of you falling through the doorway of his apartment in a lip lock.

You wake to the warmth of the early morning sun shining through Bucky’s bedroom window. Your body is tangled with his as he peacefully sleeps. Brushing some hair from his face you give him a kiss and carefully get up, grabbing his tee shirt from the floor and throwing it over your naked body.

Tip toeing into the bathroom you wash up and give yourself a tour of his apartment. It’s unsurprisingly neat and comfortable, the warm colors and wooden furniture making it feel like a lived-in place. He has several bookshelves lining the walls in the living room and you smile to yourself, loving that he’s surrounded himself with them.

“You look so much better in my shirt than I do.” You look down at yourself before turning on your heel, “I could argue with you on that.” Bucky walks over, his sweats hung low on his hips. He winds his arms around your shoulders and holds you against his chest. “Hungry?” Just then your stomach grumbles and you both laugh. “I definitely could go for some breakfast!”

After breakfast and some fun in the shower you leave Bucky’s and return home to do laundry and bake the cookies for dinner at Betty’s. You decide you also want to try one of your new recipes for a chocolate pie, hoping to get an honest opinion from both Bucky and his grandma. The day goes by quickly as you bake and clean, Bucky texting you silly pictures from the book shop.

‘I wish I didn’t have to work tonight😢.’ You read his text, wishing the same. You want to go to the bar again, but you promised Nat some girl time and you needed to do some things around your apartment. ‘I know, me too, I miss you.’ You send the text before thinking it through, cringing to yourself and hoping you didn’t overstep.

An, ‘I miss you more❤,’ comes through almost instantly and with a giant sigh of relief, you send several heart emojis back followed by a picture of your finished chocolate pie. ‘I tried a new recipe! Hopefully, you guys will like it🥰!’ The next few texts come through quickly, Bucky making his excitement know. Nat arrives shortly after and you veg on the couch with cookies and wine, hardly talking about anything other than the boys.

When Sunday afternoon arrives, you’re pacing your apartment, rambling to Nat on the phone. “Why am I all of a sudden nervous, it’s not like I’m meeting his parents and I’ve met Betty before!” Chewing on your lip you huff into the phone causing Nat to laugh, “listen, calm down, eat a cookie and get dressed or you’re going to be late.”

Bucky meets you at your apartment and you catch a cab together, his hand in yours as you walk to Betty’s apartment. “This stuff smells amazing, I can’t wait to eat it all,” he says, pulling you into his side. Kissing the top of your head, he whispers, “she already loves you, don’t worry about anything.” You let your shoulders relax feeling somewhat lighter after his sweet words.

Betty’s apartment door is slightly ajar, the delicious smell of lasagna wafting through the small space. “Oh man, that smells so good,” you say as Bucky opens the door. “Hey grandma, we’re here!” Betty pokes her head around the corner of the kitchen with a smile, “oh good, kids, come on in! I need some help.”

You brush past Bucky and put the cookies and pie on the table, going over to Betty and asking, “what can I do?” She pats your cheek and instructs you to set the table, yelling at Bucky to help get the lasagna out of the oven and get the drinks.

Once the table is set and the three of you are seated Betty gets to talking. You had checked with Bucky on the way over, asking him if it was ok to ask her questions about his grandpa, James. He assured you it would be fine, and she would be happy to talk about him. And she was.

We met when I was 19, not long before the Vietnam War. James was so handsome with his dark hair and beautiful blue eyes. It was summer and I was at Coney Island with my friends and some of the army boys had come out to have some fun. The moment I laid eyes on him; I knew. “Knew what,” you asked, your head cocked to the side and a dreamy look in your eyes.

That I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. Thankfully, he felt the same because that night my life changed forever. Just like any other show off he approached me and asked if he could try to win me one of the stuffed bears at the water gun game. He kept saying he was a good shot. Well, turns out, he won three times in a row and I got the biggest stuff bear they had. “She still has it too,” Bucky chimed in with a smile. You squeeze his hand, “it’s all so romantic.”

We spent the whole evening together. James took me for a walk on the beach that night and we bonded over our love of books and literature, quoting all our favorite stories and authors. It almost felt too good to be true but when we kissed for the first time on that sand, I knew he would be the last man I ever kissed.

He went to Vietnam. I knew he was going to and I had to let him, but it was the hardest thing I ever had to do. So hard, I wasn’t sure I would make it through. I wrote him every day and sent him books I had read with my notes in the margin. They were more often just the words in my heart that had leaked onto the page. He kept them all of course, telling me they gotten him through many nights.

When he returned home, we got married right away. It was a small wedding but just what we wanted. After that we moved into this apartment and I got pregnant in the next year. One day, we were walking down W 15th street, or more like I was waddling because I was about 8 months pregnant and we passed this quaint little bookshop. It was one of those moments where we looked at each other and it all just clicked.

Walking inside we were immediately surrounded by the familiar smell of old books. We spent the whole afternoon exploring the shelves for books for the baby’s library. We left with probably close to 30 books, hands, and hearts full.

Later than night when we were building the bookshelf for the baby’s room, James sat back and pulled me into his lap. He asked me what I wanted in life. I told him I had everything I wanted and more. He understood because he felt the same but then he added in a quiet voice, “what if we had our own library.”

At first, I didn’t know what he meant. Maybe one for the house? But then he started telling me his idea. He spoke with so much passion that I couldn’t have said no even if I wanted to. And I didn’t want to, I was all in. It was perfect for us.

So, after Bucky’s father was born, we saved up, bought the space, and turned it into the bookshop. From day one James was fully invested. He gave it so much of himself and we had so much success. Everything he did he did for us and I know he’s so happy that Bucky has taken over and we didn’t have to sell before he passed.

Betty slowly got up and walked to the living room, taking a photo off the mantle. “Would you grab the cookies and pie dear and Bucky put on the coffee please?” You both jump up and do as she asks, clearing the table and setting out the dessert and coffee cups. She returns with the photo and sits down, handing it to you. “That’s James and I in front of the bookshop the day it opened.”

Her smile is wide, but her eyes are sad. You look down at the picture, your own eyes blurred by tears, “you are beautiful, and James is so handsome. You really look like him Bucky.” When you look up, Bucky’s eyes are on you and not the picture. Something floats across his features that steals your breath. Something akin to pain but it quickly vanishes when Betty speaks again.

“Oh, my darling, this pie is scrumptious! You are quite the baker.” You and Bucky look over, smiling as she takes another bite. “I’m so glad you like it! Will you try some Bucky?” He reaches over and cuts a giant slice, “you bet I will!”

It seems as if the painful moment has passed as he happily chews the pie, groaning at how good it is. You kiss his cheek, taking a bite yourself and smiling. “It did come good! I have to add this to my recipe book.” The three of you enjoy dessert and more lovely conversation, helping Betty clean up before you leave.

You say goodbye and head out the door, promising to be back soon with more baked goods. Bucky’s hand is tight around yours as you walk down the street, deciding to take a stroll before getting a cab. The night is warm and beautiful as Bucky pulls you into his side. You can tell something is off but you’re not sure if you should ask. The moment with the picture sits at the forefront of your mind and you decide to take the gamble.

You stop walking and wrap your arms around him, “Bucky. Talk to me, what’s going on?” His brow furrows and his lips turn down in a frown. Your stomach sinks as thoughts that he is going to end it creep into your mind. He must notice the look in your eyes and quickly kisses you before saying, “it’s not you at all, you are perfect.” Taking a deep breath, he continues, “it’s the bookshop. I have barely been able to pay the rent these past two months. I don’t know what to do.”  

@aesthetical-bucky @bugsbucky @book-dragon-13 @buckys-broody-muffin @devynsdiary @eurynome827 @hawksmagnolia @hailmary-yramliah @hiddles-rose @itsunclebucky @ikaris-whore @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @metal-armed-cuddly-dork @mushyjellybeans @marvelgirl7 @marvelandotherfandomimagines @nano--raptor​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @softpeachbarnes​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @the-wayward-robot​ @when-the-hell-is-bucky​ @nordlysinthewoods​ @moonybarnes​ @rinthehufflepuff​ @irishflutiegirl​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @fire-flv​ @nd1998sc​ @captainchrisstan​ @vherriepie​ @godofplumsandthunder​ @amandatar-06​ @throwmyheartawayagain​ @flyawaybay 

[whisperednarratives]

EVOLVE

/ɪˈvɒlv/

verb

1. develop gradually.

summary:

bakugo katsuki has hated l/n y/n since the moment she first took a punch for izuku midoriya.

the beginning of bakugo’s reign of resentment towards the girl was also the start of a wonderful friendship between izuku and herself.to say bakugo hated this arrangement was an understatement.

and things only got worse after that.after junior high school, both teenagers found themselves realising what they truly wanted.he had his goals and she had hers yet to get to where they wanted to be, they both had to attend the prestigious u.a. high school.

this is the story of how two future pro-heros found their feelings evolving over time until they realised that there really was a thin line between love and hate.

•

pairing:

bakugo katsuki x reader

genre:

enemies to lovers/slow burn/a bit angsty(?)

a/n:

i do not own or take credit for any part of bnha/mha’s manga/anime characters, plot etc.

all of it belongs to kohei horikoshi. i do not take credit for any art/photographs/visuals that will be used for any part of the story.

to be added to the TAG LIST of this story; please feel free to message me!

[NONE OF THE FOLLOWING CHAPTERS HAVE BEEN PROOFREAD OR EDITED]

[AGE: SIX YEARS OLD]

“If you don’t stop bothering him, I-I’ll fight you myself!”

Izuku Midoriya raised his tiny fists at his friend. He knew Kacchan could go a bit overboard sometimes, but it seemed like today he had finally snapped.

“You’re going to stop me?” Bakugo Katsuki threw his head back in laughter. “With what? You’re just a Quirkless little brat.”

Izuku rubbed his eyes, the tears becoming even harder to hold back. Kacchan’s fists were raised, no signs of his Quirk being activated yet, however, his ‘friends’ behind him had already activated their’s. It seemed as though they would do anything to impress their leader, even if it meant harming an innocent boy.

“K-Kacchan please! Why do you have to be so mean?” Izuku was crying now. Although he was trying to be brave, the tears flooded his face as his voice trembled.

The boy Izuku had been trying to protect stood behind him. He was too scared to say anything to the blonde boy who seemed to hate them for no reason.

Bakugo’s expression did not change, showing no signs of sympathy for his classmates. Instead, he took one step forward and pulled fist back back to attack.

Izuku raised his arms in front of his face, knowing what was coming. His eyes closed as he placed his arm over them, waiting for Kacchan’s fist to collide with his body but the strike never came.

Instead, he heard a groan of pain causing his head to lift from its position, his eyes now uncovered.

His line of vision was blocked by a bright blue. A girl stood before him, her hands clutching her reddening cheek. She was panting, as if she had just ran a marathon.

As Izuku moved his head to the side, he managed to catch a glimpse of Bakugo’s face. His eyes had widened and his mouth was open as he clutched his fist.

The girl looked at Izuku over her shoulder.

“You okay?” she said, flashing him a smile.

Izuku found himself nodding. He didn’t trust his mouth to speak yet.

It seemed as though the girl had taken a punch for him, even when he had no idea who she was. She was staring right at Bakugo with such defiance that it left Izuku shaking in his place. He knew firsthand how much pain Bakugo could cause even with his small fists yet here she was, still standing.

The boy Izuku had been protecting had already ran off.

It seemed as though everyone was in shock because it wasn’t until the girl spoke up that Bakugo realised what had happened.

She had been so fast to jump in front of Izuku that Bakugo hadn’t even been able to realise until his fist had collided with her cheek.

“Why don’t you walk away before this gets any worse?”

Izuku watched Bakugo’s mouth close instantly as his eyes glared daggers into the girl’s form.

“Who do you think you are?” his fists were clutched tightly against his sides as he took a step forward again.

The girl stayed unintimidated and instead, took a step towards him as well.

“Someone who thinks you’re a big bully,” she stared back at Bakugo with as much ferocity as she could.

“WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?”

Bakugo’s palms held the telltale signs of his Quirk being activated as he raised his hand again.

“Bakugo, stop! She’s that weird girl with the rock Quirk!” a boy yelled. “She made someone land up in the nurse’s office once!”

Bakugo’s eyes narrowed and he saw the girl flash him a smug smile. The ribbons in her hair had loosened as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her left cheek was now a bright red because of his punch and it didn’t seem like she was going to give up anytime soon. For some reason, he was reminded of himself as he continued to study her...

And he didn’t like it one bit.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m the strongest person in this class, I can—”

Bakugo’s words were interrupted as their teacher’s voice was heard from the distance.

“Bakugo Katsuki! Your parents are here to pick you.”

Letting out a scream of frustration, Bakugo lowered his hands. He was contemplating ignoring the teacher altogether, before he decided against it. His mother had a nasty temper and he wasn’t in the mood for a scolding today.

“This isn’t over yet,” he growled, before turning on his heels to face his friends. “Come on.”

As Bakugo retreated the scene, he looked over his shoulder in time to see Izuku grab the girl’s extended hand.

The amount of anger that surged through Bakugo’s body upon seeing the scene was something he’d never felt before.

How dare this unknown, annoying little girl stare at him so boldly?

How dare she protect dumb Deku who deserved every punch thrown his way?

Nobody had ever stood up to Bakugo before. Nobody.

So how can this girl have the audacity to face him with such unreserved opposition?

Suddenly, Bakugo remembered who she was.

Always sitting alone in their classroom, she often stared out the window. Her behaviour always got her reprimanded by their teacher but she was one of the first few kids (much like Bakugo) to manifest their Quirk.

He remembered her showing how she could float some stupid rock in the air for a few seconds before her face turned green.

She wasn’t strong at all. Just some nobody who could do a few party tricks.

Then why did that idiot say she landed someone in the nurse’s office?

Bakugo felt himself rolling his eyes as he got closer to their impatient teacher.

Tomorrow, he promised himself silently. Tomorrow, I’ll show her who she’s messing with.

-

“Hey! My name is L/N Y/N, what’s yours?”

Izuku stood silently, staring at the girl’s hand. He looked from her hand to her face repeatedly, before he decided to extend his own.

“M-Midoriya Izuku.”

He was sure the blush he had been repressing had risen to his cheeks, a clear sign of how flustered he was.

After letting go of his hand, Y/N spoke up again.

“You shouldn’t let him treat you that way, you know,” she said, placing her hands on her waist. “He’s just a bully who needs to be taught a lesson.”

The small girl huffed as she frowned at the bushy haired boy.

“Kacchan’s always been like this,” Izuku managed to whisper. “I don’t mind though, he’s my friend.”

The boy’s answer caused her eyes to widen in shock.

“Your friend?” she said. “Friends aren’t supposed to treat you that way!”

“He’s the only friend I have...” Izuku trailed, his eyes starting to water again.

She probably thinks I’m a los-

“No, now you have me.”

Izuku was sure he was about to faint.

Did she just-

“If he ever bothers you again, let me know okay?” her bright smile was back in its place as she grabbed Izuku’s hand.

First, this girl defends him. Then, she offers to be his friend and protect him against the strongest boy he knew.

Izuku was sure he was either hallucinating or asleep.

“W-why would you help me?” Izuku managed to stutter out.

“Because we’re friends now, silly!” Y/N giggled. “Friends always protect each other.”

-

[AGE: FOURTEEN YEARS OLD]

Izuku shook his head, recalling one of his fondest memories as L/N Y/N sat next to him. She was rambling as usual as their teacher tried to distribute their exam papers.

As much as Izuku loved remembering how he had found his best friend, he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

After the two had become inseparable, Kacchan’s anger towards the young boy had increased a tenfold. This caused Y/N to fall victim to Kacchan’s wrath as well.

And if Izuku didn’t know any better, he was almost certain Kacchan hated Y/N as much as he hated him.

However, the young girl never stopped defending him in any way she could. Her and Bakugo had fought more times than he could count, with Bakugo terrorising anyone who tried to befriend Izuku or the girl.

She was still never as cruel as Bakugo. She dealt with him with her words rather than her fists. Izuku had seen the extent of her Quirk and abilities and knew she was strong - dare he say, as strong as Kacchan - but she never used her skills to torment the blonde boy.

Bakugo was the exact opposite.

Y/N was made fun of constantly but the worst thing Bakugo had done was burn all of her textbooks the previous year. Izuku had watched in horror as the young boy burnt her backpack to crisp, Y/N’s eyes brimming with tears.

And that was when she had snapped.

Izuku had never seen her that angry before yet he still remembered the words she had said that day.

“I hate you, Bakugo Katsuki. I am done trying to be the better person. From now on, if I see you so much as breathe near me, I will not hesitate to let the ground swallow you whole. You’re nothing but a dick,” she had said. “Stay the fuck away from me or you’ll regret it.”

Even since that incident, they hadn’t spoken to each other nor clashed heads. Their rivalry had reached the point of unresolved hatred and Izuku knew that Y/N hadn’t lied back then. Kacchan hadn’t exactly stopped bothering Izuku but he always kept his distance whenever she was with him.

Which meant he had noticed the blatant honesty in her voice as well.

Izuku had asked Y/N if she could actually control her Quirk enough to make the ground swallow people and she had just laughed. Although she was back to normal, he doubted she would really go through with the threat. However, Izuku knew it wasn’t a risk Kacchan was willing to take.

As they sat in class, waiting for the last day of junior high school to end, Izuku was thankful that he had managed to make a friend he knew he could trust with his life.

Beside him, the girl suddenly stopped talking as the teacher approached his podium.

“I would pass out these forms considering it’s your third year at this school,” the teacher paused. “But you’re all going to opt for the Hero Course anyway so what’s the point?”

The class started cheering, excited to finally be able to train for something they’ve always to do.

Y/N and Izuku had always talked about joining the Hero Course together. One of the reasons Izuku had even considered applying to the same school as her was because of how much the girl had pushed him.

“Quirkless or not, you’re still going to be an amazing hero one day Izuku!“ she had said.

After a moment of silence, Izuku spoke up.

“Why? Why do you think I can be a hero without a Quirk?”

The girl raised her gaze to meet his before replying.

“Because you are one of the most bravest people I know. We met because you tried to take on Bakugo without a Quirk and I’ve always admired that about you. Your ability to have the pure guts to take an enemy head on!”

Y/N never failed to make Izuku feel like he was the strongest person in the world, Quirkless or not.

Even now, as their teacher continued, she leaned towards him from her desk.

“We’ll train together later, okay?” she whispered.

Training mostly consisted of Y/N trying to gain better control and precision over her Quirk as Izuku took notes but he didn’t mind.

He wanted to help his best friend get stronger in any way he could.

Nodding slightly, Izuku’s train of thought was interrupted by Kacchan speaking up.

When Bakugo spoke, the entire class knew it was time to shut up. Someone didn’t stop when he was talking once and they ended up getting blown across the school during lunch break.

“No need to put all of us in the same category,” he said, his feet up on his desk. “I don’t plan on aiming low like these extras.”

She kept her head down as she scoffed at his words.

What an arrogant idiot.

“Ah yes, Bakugo. You plan on going to U.A High School right?”

This caused her head to snap back up, eyes wide as she glared at the back of Bakugo’s head.

He’s planning on going there too?

As her classmates around her discussed how difficult her dream school was to get into, Bakugo continued to boast about his achievements.

She felt an uneasy pit settle in her stomach.

As much as she wanted to get into U.A, she couldn’t bear the thought of having to spend the next three years with Bakugo.

And if he found out I was applying along with Izuku, he’d never let-

“L/N and Midoriya, you plan on applying to U.A as well right?”

Y/N buried her head in her hands as the teacher called her out. She knew Izuku was probably stiff as a board besides her as the entire class shifted their eyes towards the two teenagers.

It wasn’t long before the entire class bursted out laughing.

Even though they weren’t laughing at her, Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed in anger.

She knew how hard it had been to convince Izuku to apply to U.A with her but she couldn’t bear the thought of her classmates making fun of her friend.

“You can’t just apply thinking you’ll get in without a Quirk!”

“Like they’d ever take a Quirkless kid like him!”

Before Izuku could respond, Y/N had stood up in her seat.

“Why don’t all of you shut up and mind your own business,” she snapped back at the kids who had made the previous comments.

Everyone else immediately shut up, knowing how protective the girl was of her friend.

“Well Y/N, you do have the best scores in class besides Bakugo. I’m sure you’ll be able to qualify, considering how strong your Quirk is!” the teacher said, trying to diffuse the situation. “As for Midoriya, it doesn’t hurt to try.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N sat back down.

Izuku gave her a small smile, silently thanking her.

With a subtle thumbs up his way, she went back to waiting for this class to end so she could head home already.

Little did she know, Bakugo had heard the teacher’s comment about her Quirk and his fists had clenched in anger.

He couldn’t believe he might have to deal with her for the next few years of his life. The thought made him angrier by the minute and he knew the only way he could end his frustration was through one thing.

Deku.

-

Walking back into the classroom to see Bakugo towering over her friend was not something Y/N was happy about. His friends continued to laugh as he snatched something from Izuku’s hands.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

All four teenage boys turned around to face her.

Bakugo’s scowl was instantly replaced with a smug grin.

This was going to be good, he thought. She hadn’t spoken to him for the past year and he had been waiting for her to finally burst. He hadn’t taken her threat lightly but he knew Y/N didn’t have the heart to actually harm anyone.

It was why he found her even more infuriating.

“Oh look, it’s Deku’s little bodyguard,” Bakugo said.

Even though it had been quite long since she’d interacted with him, Y/N was able to calm herself down before taking any action against the blonde boy.

Y/N sighed before walking towards the group. She realised he had taken Izuku’s notebook, one in which he kept all of his tips and tricks to do with all the heroes he had ever heard of. She knew how important it was to him, considering it was the closest thing he had to make him feel like a hero.

“Hand his book over and walk away before I choose to get violent.”

Bakugo seemed to have realised the importance of the notebook as well as his grip tightened around the tattered object.

“No, I think I’m good. Why don’t you try and take it from me?” Bakugo extended his arm towards the girl, his grip still intact on the book.

A year later and he’s still an insolent fool.

The girl’s calmness was slowly starting to fade away and Izuku knew she wouldn’t hesitate this time around.

Shaking his head, he tried to tell her to stop but she didn’t listen.

“I swear I am about to shove a brick up your ass. Give him the notebook back!” Her hand reached out to grab the book but Bakugo was too fast.

He turned on his heels just in time to avoid her, taking a several steps towards the window as she continued to try and grab Izuku’s book.

Bringing both his hands to encase the journal, Y/N immediately realised what he was about to do.

“Bakugo don’t you dare-”

It was too late.

The boy had already burnt the book, flipping it over his shoulder and out the window.

Izuku let out a choked sob as he watched Bakugo burn his dreams to the ground.

Literally.

Y/N’s mouth remained open in shock.

“What happened? Didn’t you say something about the ground swallowing me whole last time?” Bakugo laughed as the girl stood as still as a statue before him.

She hadn’t realised her hands had started shaking out of anger until a brick flew inside through the window.

Bakugo, whose back was facing the window sill, didn’t realise until the brick landed a harsh blow on his head.

“OW! WHAT THE FUCK?”

Scowling, he grabbed the back of his head in pain.

But Y/N wasn’t done.

“What is wrong with you? How can you be so cruel?”

Her hands still hadn’t stopped shaking.

“What did you just say?” Bakugo screamed, taking a step towards her.

“How can you be such a jerk? That notebook was so important to him and you just destroyed it without a second thought,” Y/N’s eyes were now burning with such resentment for him that Bakugo almost stopped in his tracks.

“What is your goddamn problem? WHY DO YOU HATE US SO MUCH?”

This was the first time any of the boys had heard her yell.

Her question rang throughout the empty classroom and Bakugo couldn’t help but bite back with as much severity as he could.

“Because neither of you extras deserves to go to a place like U.A. U.A is a school for people like me. I want to be the number one hero one day and I don’t want anyone, including you two idiots, stopping me.” Bakugo stopped before turning to face Izuku. “If you want to be a hero that badly, why not try swan diving off the roof to get a Quirk in another life?”

Y/N swore she saw red as she jumped towards Bakugo without a second thought.

She managed to land a punch to his face before Izuku had grabbed her arm and pulled her away.

“YOU BITCH!” Bakugo screamed, launching himself at the girl.

“Bakugo, stop! You can’t get into a fight again!”

His friends grabbed both his arms, dragging him towards the classroom’s door.

“JUST WAIT AND WATCH, YOU FUCKING DICK,” Y/N screamed as Izuku struggled to hold her back. “I WILL GET INTO U.A AND BEAT YOUR ASS. THAT’S A PROMISE.”

As Bakugo’s friends practically threw him out of the classroom, Y/N heard his voice call out her name.

“I’d like to see you try.”

TAG LIST: @sizzlingbarbarianglitter

[georgemackayhey]

Rules For Falling In Love: #1

summary: In which George wants to get married. But... you're not dating. Why should you say yes?

a/n: Here it is I'm obsessed with this concept my dear friend thought up, so much so that I was inspired to write this multichapter fic about it all. Please let me know if I forgot to tag anyone, or if you'd like to be added to the list! And as always... feedback of any and all kinds are greatly appreciated!

w/c: 2k

Part 2 >

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Don't be a third wheel, come on now!" Dean's publicist shooed him away from where you stood next to George, counting down the seconds till the red carpet came to an end. You gave the guy a quick, twisted frown, as George's publicist pulled him further down the carpet, his hand holding on to yours, silently bringing you along.

This was just another normal Friday evening.

When the time came to flood into the award ceremony, you sighed in relief and reached for a drink from the tray of a despondent boy meant to stand right where he was for most the night.

"Don't you have any place better to be?" Dean laughed your way, thanking the waiter for the drink he swiped.

"We were going to go bowling." You shot George a look. You'd only made the plans as a joke, wondering how much shit either of you would get for ditching this stupid ceremony to go have a bit of real fun. But you'd made a promise to George long ago, to attend all these silly little Hollywood shindigs with him.

"And we will go bowling if we make it out of here alive" George declared with a nod, leading you toward the row of seats with your names on them. He hated these events almost more than you did. He insisted your presence aided to quell his anxieties these circumstances stirred up. And you couldn't tell George no, very often.

"If one of you ever did one thing without each other, I think hell would freeze over." Dean chuckled as you all settled into your seats. You looked to George again, and he looked to you and you both laughed, but Dean was probably right.

After the awards had been given out between long, sometimes painful speeches, the boy's publicists insisted they linger around the after-party for as long as they could manage. You kept your usual pace in between them, cackling over stupid old jokes and offering forced toothy grins to celebrities who asked if they could steal George away for photos and chats about the magic of acting- or whatever.

"You know, no one has even ever asked about us." You pointed out to Dean, sharing a piece of cake in the quietest corner of the party. "Showbiz people I mean. They just assumed right away. Even the times we've insisted we're only friends, they insist we're joking." You huffed a laugh.

"That's Hollywood for you, I suppose. But you've gotta admit... you and George-"

"Are just friends." You finished. Dean halted, smiling in agreeance to drop the subject, but clearly held back from stating his other points, whether they were valid or not.

After one too many sweets and drinks, George found you and informed his sister was on her way to give the two of you a lift home. You traded a few hugs with Dean, making rough plans to meet up again very soon, without all the cameras and microphones in the way.

///

"How was your date, then?" George's sister wondered as you clamored into the back of her car. George followed behind with an answer.

"It wasn't a date, it was work thinly veiled as fun."

"But you went together, which makes it a date."

"Nice try," You rose a finger, buckling in as the girl sped off toward the city streets. She'd always found sly ways to get you and George to admit there was something deeper to your connection. She'd introduce you to her friends as her brother's girlfriend. She'd address Christmas presents to the both of you, handing them out with a wink.

"I don't understand you two." She dramatically croaked now, as if your denial was her personal defeat. "You're catfishing the world!"

"We're not pretending to date." George reminded his sister, "And we're also not pretending we don't live together."

"Yeah so why aren't you dating? You do everything else together."

"We live to torment you. It's all to drive you mad" George falsely confessed.

"I wouldn't put it past you." His sibling let out a whine.

You and George shared a roll of your eyes, dulling snickers and exhausting explanations that weren't worth wading through. The midnight ride to your flat fell silent then. The night had been long, but it was a seemingly usual evening, these days.

By the time you and George shuffled up the drive, waved his sister goodnight, you were ready to forgo your usual routine and drop face-first into bed.

"I think my sister has a point," George mumbled, shutting and locking the front door.

"Hmm?" You encouraged George to go on, halfway in tune to listen, more so gearing up to head to bed after such a long evening out. George remained silent as you kicked your shoes off, and didn't speak again until he had your undivided attention.

"Let's get married," George said.

You tossed your head back in a laugh as you floated further into your shared home.

"I'm serious, y/n." George hurried along, moving to stop you from walking away, boring his sleepy eyes into yours.

"What?" You chuckled again, shaking your head, trying to keep up.

"We already live here. We've been talking about sharing a bank account. And it'll be so much easier to introduce as my wife than as 'my best friend who I live with but am not dating but go everywhere with.'"

"But that's the truth!"

"Marriage could be true! Think of how much easier life would be."

"George, how much have you had to drink?" You cackled as you pushed past him, into the kitchen for a glass of water. You clattered about the cupboards as he followed you, rambling still.

"I'm serious! We've planned out our lives together already. Future vacations, birthday parties, career deadlines, all accounted for with each other in mind. We should just get married."

"George! I will not let you lie at the altar. A wedding is for two people who want to commit every bit of their lives together for the rest of the foreseeable future."

"My plans for the weekend are always to ask you what you want to do the next. I'm your only emergency contact." George listed off these points as if they were dead giveaways.

"Okay, let's say we get married." You entertained, standing in front of George as he noshed on some deserts he'd brought home from the after-party. He raised a pretty brow, waiting for you to go on.

"Sure nothing changes at first, not really. You're already my ride to work, and I already promised to go to all those silly Hollywood parties with you. But what happens in five years when I want to move to France and you want to stay here? What happens in six months if some super hot mailman comes and sweeps me off my feet? What happens when you fall in love with some leading lady, George?"

"People get divorced all the time." He shrugged.

"That's a lot of money to blow. And for what? For a lousy label and some ugly rings?"

"So we pick out some bloody cool rings and promise to only get divorced if shit hits the fan. Neither of us can stay mad for long. Remember when I spilled wine on your great grandma's old lounge chair? I was fully prepared to be excommunicated. But you just hugged me while you cried." George chuckled, keeping his desserts close.

"Do you really wanna kiss me in front of your mother and the world and pretend that this is normal?" You tried to ask with a serious glare, but it was just too funny. You couldn't help but let out a little giggle of disbelief that this was the conversation you were having on an otherwise normal weekday evening.

"Y/n, we're practically already married."

"George I love you, but this is a stupid idea."

"I don't think it is, but I love you too. I'm taking this box of macaroons to bed, now."

"Okay goodnight you two." You laughed, pulling at the sleeves of your too-tight dress on your trek down the hall.

"Wait!" You called out, a few steps from your room. "Can you unzip this, please?" You took a few backward steps to meet where George had stalled in the hall, macaroon halfway in and out of his mouth, he balanced one hand on your shoulder and used the other to undo the zipper that hugged your spine.

"G'night!" You heard him mumble past his dessert as you gave him a wave of thanks and practically threw yourself into your nice warm bed.

///

You met George when you were kids. You grew up attending the same local festivals and schools. His acquaintance turned more familiar with each passing summer until you'd become rather inseparable. It was that fact that kept his number in your contacts when you moved to the city, and he went away to film more often.

You'd kept up lunch dates when he came back home, and celebrated holidays with his family every time they invited you to come round like they'd been doing for years. You'd even attended a few birthdays and dinner parties with his family when George was out of town, when you hadn't spoken with him in months.

You moved in with George some odd years ago, when the flat you rented threw one too many unfixable issues your way. His home was the closest to your work, and he was one of the only friends you trusted enough to reach out to for help. After occupying his guest room for a few months, George insisted you move your things into the place you'd already practically been living in.

His home was big enough, tucked away just outside of the city. It's high ceilings, warm decor and a manageable rent were easily and comfortably split between the two of you. It made sense. You'd been sharing most of your free time together for years, anyway.

You shuffled through the bright halls, past framed photos of George's family. Of you and George. There was no difference, you'd been close for so many years, your lives were complexly intertwined whether you liked it or not. Luckily, you did.

George was already in the sun-drenched kitchen when you entered, stretching into the new day.

After trading usual morning greetings you could practically hear George's silent, burning thoughts. He poured you each a cup of coffee and shot you a look you knew was meant to say much more than words could.

"Okay, what?" You asked in a warning tone, accepting the drink he placed before you at the table, before sitting in the chair at your side. You knew George had something to say, and he'd say it whether you asked him about it or not.

"My mum thinks we've been dating since Uni. You know we can't talk her out of it. If anything she'd be relieved."

Oh, he was really still hung up on this huh?

"So you wanna do this because of your mother?" You asked, watching the steam curl up from the drink between your hands.

"No. I wanna do this because being together officially would make all our being together anyway, so much easier. Bills, plans, excuses, rainy days."

You looked at George, his start blue eyes, his unkempt hair, that stupid withheld smile he got when he was focused on something. You loved him for longer than you had the patients to do the math for. You planned on loving him for a while, even when he pissed you off, you couldn't imagine struggling alongside anyone else...

"Earth to y/n."

"I'm not responding because you're starting to make sense and I don't like it." You pretended to pout. Then George went silent for a beat, his brilliant eyes searching your face.

"Do you still want to go bowling?" He pipped up as if he'd just remembered you'd said something about it a day earlier.

"Sounds fun, doesn't it?" You asked, hoping he'd join you in wasting a day having childlike fun. George bit back a grin, leaned in close to catch your eye, and said,

"If I win... we'll get married."

You wanted to curse his name through a laugh, but you very rarely could tell the man no. And you hated to admit it even to yourself, but the more you thought about it... the more you liked the idea.

"And if you win?" George mused, egging you on. But you didn't need to place bets to play.

"Let's go bowling, Mackay."

///

As you took turns knocking pins down, George brought up several valid points.

How his family adored you. How he'd drop anything to be there for you when you needed him. How you'd always talked about how scary the future seemed, but agreed it was better to face together, like always.

And you argued for a moment that maybe neither of you knew any better, how you were all each other knew since growing up.

But George pointed out that simply wasn't true. He'd traveled. Met girls, none of whom were around at all anymore. You'd dated and failed to find anyone worth keeping around. It was as if you and George were the survivors of some twisted game of life, having only managed this far because of how you relied on each other.

But you weren't on the same bowling team.

You were scoring strikes left and right a few solid points ahead in the game.

But George was close to beating you, one good turn and he'd wind up the winner.

All the while, George only stalled his passionate speeches to listen and laugh over yours. And as you considered how familiar his presence was, and the way you couldn't imagine living life any further apart, you'd made up your mind.

But every time you thought of voicing your decision, something stopped you. You bit your tongue and decided that you'd wait to see if your feelings changed soon. And after some serious thought, you could either tell George that you'd hate to let him down, but plan a movie night alongside his favorite dinner, to make up for your decline. Or you'd tell him yes, and agree to his stupidly sweet idea to get hitched. Because you couldn't tell him no.

He won the game.

But of course, George wasn't living and dying by the bet he made that coaxed you to play. And you never really agreed to it anyway. The two of you simply went on arguing on the way home, more or less about how you were on the same page, and just what to do next.

And while you made dinner together, your conversation stopped when you sucked in a big breath and spun on your heels across the room. You'd heard enough.

George raised a pale brow, sitting patiently at the table as the oven did its thing. Then he watched as you settled back to the seat across from him, placing a pad of paper and a pen down.

"If...we do this, I'm writing down rules."

George watched on, sipping tea as you scribbled away. Once you felt comfortable with the list of regulations you'd penned, you read from the marked-up note pad, one at a time.

"Okay, listen up..."

MARRIAGE RULES

one. No lying to family and friends. They get to know that this isn't conventional.

two. No lying to each other. We're only doing this to make things easier. We must remain every bit a team.

three. We must celebrate our anniversary because there's no point in not milking the chance to go on holiday.

"Now," You flipped the page to a new set of rules before George could go on smooth-talking.

DIVORCE RULES

"We can only get a divorce under dire circumstances. Which include the following..."

one. If we betray each other's morals or trust in a way that cannot be fixed or forgiven after a year's time.

two. If one of us is dying. Actively dying.

three. If one of us finds and falls in love.

"We've managed to work out all the bad shit together so far and I'm sure we can keep that up. A divorce is too much money to waste over one fight we end up resolving and remain otherwise together."

"So you'll do it?" George grinned, setting his drink to the side.

"Is this you asking me to marry you? It's very unromantic. Negative three out of ten." You laughed, George did too. But you needed to make yourself very clear.

"I'll think about it." You clarified. "You should too."

You’d tell him yes later. Because as much as it scared you... you'd already made up your mind.

───※ ·❆· ※───

taglist: @whenthe-smokeisinyoureyes @andux @imaginationandlove @velvetgoldsilver @queen-bunnyears @maria-josefin @dearevansamham @belledamsceno @nilletellsstories @haileymorelikestupid @loulouloueh​ @visionsofmelodrama

[dreamdropxoxo]

OMG I just saw your post that says you finished Basket of Figs and so somehow my brain refuses to believe that this story will end ( probably because my brain is 50% plush and 50% shark most of the time 😅)

I mean I know there‘s still chapters for me to look forward to but I also mean you think I want it to go on forever because I love it so much. Chapters 20-23 were once again sooo very sweet and perfect and I‘m still heavily in love with the entire story 🥰 And I know I‘ve been rambling about how I love it for a while now but it‘s true! This story is my regular dose of happy Lamen fluff and it makes me happy ☺️

Even though every time Laurent‘s education is brought up, I have a visceral urge to slap his father over the head. With a mallet. The uncle too. Just for good measure 😬 My poor baby 😢 But then I tell myself that everything’s fine now and he has Damen who loves him so much and will do everything for him and then I start to grin like a silly shark 🙃

I really hope Aleron‘s not going to be an ass towards Juliette 🥺

Hey my dearest plush shark anon 😍

So nice to read from you! 

Ah, I know how you feel. I’m feeling just the same thing. I mean how can it be over now? I’m still sad about it, but at the same time I’m so proud that I managed to finish this rather long project without a hitch and my readers will never have to wait for me 😂 (First time ever that this happened to me!)

Well, I can assure you, even after Basket of Figs I fully intend to write all the Lamen fluff I’m capable of! So, maybe there’s something for you there too. I actually have two projects I’d like to start next (I still need to decide which one is better as the heir to BoF). But I promise there will be more fluff. 

Regarding education, I think Aleron would deserve even worse. But at least Laurent will be able to do better with his own children (yes, plural 😂). Damen is a great husband and he loves Laurent dearly, so we don’t have to worry anymore. 

And I think Auguste would rather kill him than let him insult Juliette. ❤️

Your message made me so happy and I have a little something under the cut for you (although today the story will be updated xD So, I chose from a later chapter!)

Goodness, but the omega looked breathtaking. The pale blue dress made his eyes sparkle like jewels and draped over his swollen belly beautifully. Damen wanted to bury his face in the long, pale neck exposed by the pinned up golden locks and suck marks into the skin for hours. Laurent didn’t look as if he was in pain or afraid, the bond between them was calm and Damen knew there was no need to worry, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Are you alright, my love?” He forced the words out of his mouth. His jaw was still clenched, which made talking difficult. Laurent tilted his chin up and observed him closely with a furrowed brow.

“I’m fine, Damen. Cramps in this stage of the pregnancy are normal. It’s nothing to worry about and they’ll pass in the matter of seconds. It’s because I sat for too long in the same position.”

Damen blanched. His mate had spent the last days in the carriage without a break. Obviously this wouldn’t be advisable, would it? 

Laurent, clearly anticipating his thoughts, interrupted his spiral into despair, “Don’t. Please. I’m fine. I just want to get home. Maybe we could take a break a little more often so that I can walk around the carriage, but don’t you dare blame yourself. I’m perfectly alright and the baby is too.”

He looked around and when he realized how sheltered they were behind the carriage, the blond stepped closer and touched his fingers to Damen’s jaw. “Relax, my dear. We’re fine.”

- Basket of Figs, Chapter 29

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Promises Not Kept Part 34

Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.

Part 34: Johanna growing up. 

         Johanna nearly scared Tommy out of his skin when she started screaming at eight o’clock at night.

           Leah was feeding Molly in the parlor while he was in the big room working. When he heard his daughter shrieking, he jumped up in an instant and made a mad sprint for the stairs. Taking two steps at a time, he dashed down the hall to her room. He ran inside and scooped her up. His eyes shifting with paranoia over the dimly lit room. “What, what is it, Jo?”

           “Loose!”

           Breathing heavily from the run, he looked at her with a confused face. “What’s loose?” He flicked on the nearest lamp to see what she was on about.

           Johanna gave a big smile and pushed on of her front teeth forward with her tongue.

           Realizing he’d almost had a heart attack over a loose tooth, he sighed and slumped to the bed with her in his arms. “Joey, it’s a loose tooth, it’s okay, that's supposed to happen.” He sighed, his heart still racing.

           “I don’t like it.” She frowned and reached into her mouth to wiggle the tooth. "Feels not good."

           “Well, by the looks of it, it’ll fall out soon.” He gently pulled her hand out of her mouth. “Just don’t touch it, it’ll come out on its own.”

           A look of terror began to cloud over the little girl’s face. “But I don’t want it to fall out!” She exclaimed. "Where's it gonna go when it falls out?"

           “It’ll grow back, Joey. Your baby teeth fall out and your grown-up teeth come in.” He reassured her.

           It wasn’t convincing enough to Johanna. “What if I swallow it?”

           “You won’t.”

           “Yeah-huh, I could!”

           “Okay, well.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Ask Charlie tomorrow, he’s lost some of his teeth, he's an expert.”

           Then, Leah hurried into the room with Molly fussing crankily in her arms. “What was all that screaming about?” She gasped.

           “Jo’s got a loose tooth,” Tommy reported.

           “Mummy, I don’t wanna swallow my teeth.” She cried fearfully, wrapping her fingers tightly around Tommy's shirt.

           “Oh, lovey, you won’t. Just have daddy pull it out so you won't have to worry about it anymore.”

           Tommy frowned it sounded like a terrible idea to him. “I’m not going to pull her tooth out, Lee.” He replied.

           “If it’s loose enough, it’ll come right out.” She shrugged.

           Charlie peeked into his sister’s room, also alarmed by the screams. “Let’s tie a string ‘round it and then tie it to a doorknob!” He exclaimed after listening in on the conversation about teeth.

           “Charles!” Tommy scolded.

           “That’s how James lost his tooth. He said his brothers tied his tooth to a doorknob and then his brothers shut the door and it came out.” The boy explained while miming the motion of a tooth being violently ripped out.

           Johanna whined in horror and covered her hands over her mouth. “I don’t wanna tie it!” She cried, her voice muffled.

           “We’re not doing that, Johanna, it’s okay.” Tommy gave his son a disappointed look. “Charlie was just being silly.”

           “Lovey, let me see.” Leah handed Molly to Charlie and knelt down.

           Johanna hesitantly moved her hands away from her face and opened her mouth. Leah lightly wiggled the tooth. “Oh, Joey, it’ll be a few days before that comes out.”

           “I won’t swallow it?”

           “No, you won’t swallow it.”

           “Feel better about falling asleep now?” Tommy asked hopefully, ready to end the drama.

           Johanna nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you, daddy.”

           He smiled and picked her up so he could tuck her back into bed. “I love you too, Joey bear.”

           After getting Johanna settled again, Leah took Molly back downstairs. Tommy led Charlie back to his bedroom. He tousled the boy’s hair. “You stay away from string and doorknobs.” He warned.

           The boy smiled and nodded. “Alright.”

           Tommy wished him goodnight, not about to tell his son that’s how he and Arthur got John to lose his first tooth.  

~~~~~~~~~~~

           The next Saturday morning was one that Johanna had been anticipating for a very long time. She was officially six and a half and according to Shelby rules, made up some decades ago by who knows who, that meant you could ride a horse.

           Tommy distinctly remembered being hauled onto a pony at a very young age. He almost slipped off the second the feisty little pony started to trot but he was grinning the entire time. He only hoped that his children would have the same love he had for horses. Charlie certainly did, looking forward to every lesson and every chance he got to ride alongside his father.

           Now it was Johanna’s turn.

           She awoke at the crack of dawn, almost too excited to stay in bed for another hour or so. She bounded out of her bed, down the hall and burst into her parents’ bedroom.

           “Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy!” She launched herself onto the bed, causing Cyril to wake up with a startle.

           “Joey.” Tommy groaned and blearily ran a hand over his face. Since he had been home more often, he wasn’t as used to waking up so early in the morning. He was actually getting sleep now that Leah and the children were home safe. Having Leah sleeping next to him was like a blessing, a comfort.

           “Daddy, time for pony-ride.” Johanna crawled in between Leah and him.

           Her mother stirred but was too deeply asleep to notice.

           “It’s very early, Jo-Bear. The horses will still be asleep.” Tommy yawned and rubbed his eyes.

           “But you promised!” She began drumming on his stomach with her open palms at a rapid pace.

           Tommy grabbed her wrists to stop her. “I’m not breaking my promise. But we’re not going out right now. We’ll eat breakfast then go.”

           The hushed conversation began to wake Leah. She rolled over and reached out for Tommy. “Who’s that talking?” She mumbled.

           “It’s me, mummy!” Johanna exclaimed, thrilled to see that her mother was awake. She flung the quilt up and burrowed herself underneath between her parents.

           “It appears we’ve got a stray Joey in the bed.” Tommy sat up, knowing full well that he wasn’t going to get any more sleep that morning. Once his daughter was up, she was up. He cleared his throat and opened the nightstand drawer for his cigarettes.

           Leah cuddled Johanna close. “Tom, smoke outside, please.”

           “Yep.” He stood up with a groan and went to don a dressing gown. “C’mon Cyril, I’ll let you out.” He patted his thigh to summon the dog.

           The bullmastiff looked a little miffed that he’d been woken up so early but rose from his dog bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~

           Breakfast occurred a little earlier than usual but Johanna was relentless. She would’ve inhaled her food if Leah had let her. Charlie came down a bit later only because Cyril had gone to wake him up. But the boy didn’t seem too cranky about it. It was nice to have three happy-go-lucky children at the breakfast table. Charlie eating peacefully, Johanna rambling on happily about her riding lesson, and Molly nursing contently.

           It was a foggy morning but the sun was starting to warm up the spring day. Johanna skipped across the lawn toward the stables. She loved visiting the horses and watching her father and brother ride. But she especially liked feeding the horses carrots and peppermint candies.

           There was a pony she’d taken a shine to, Peggy, a lovely bay with a white blaze and four almost perfectly even white socks. Standing at fourteen hands, the mare wasn’t large but Leah was still a little nervous.

           Charlie wouldn’t admit it, but he was excited to show his sister the ins and outs of the stables. He’d been waiting ever since she was born to share the sport of riding. He helped Tommy walk her through grooming and tacking up the pony. The little girl ate up the information, listening intently and helping where she was able.

           Leah was sat outside the riding ring with Molly sat on a blanket in the grass. She got a spike of nervousness when Tommy walked out with the mare in tow. Johanna followed with a spring in her step, so excited to finally ride a horse like her family.

           But her mother was terrified. Leah could ride although she was still a little uneasy around the large animals. She sometimes found it hard to watch Charlie’s lessons even though the little boy was a natural. She nearly had a heart attack when Tommy let Charlie’s horse off the lunge line for the first time.

           Now she had to go through the same panic all over again with Johanna and most likely Molly too.

           Charlie came to sit with Leah while Tommy picked up Johanna to put her in the saddle. He stood with her for a moment, adjusting the stirrups, tightening the girth, and telling her how to sit and hold the reins.

           After that, he began walking around the ring with Peggy. Johanna had a huge smile on her face. She waved at Leah when they passed by them.

           “Both hands on the reins, lovey!” Leah called out nervously. “Oh that horse looks so much bigger than I remembered.” She mumbled.

           “It’s alright, mum.” Charlie assured her. “Peggy doesn’t spook.”

           It was almost as if saying it cursed the morning. Because almost ten minutes later, a large hawk descended near the ring. The large wingspan of the bird seemed to frighten Peggy and she pranced a few steps to the side.

           This caught both Tommy and Johanna off guard and the little girl slipped right out of the saddle like a rag doll.

           Leah jumped up and ran over to the fence. “Joey!”

           Tommy dropped the lead knowing Peggy wouldn’t go anywhere and rushed to his daughter.

           Johanna sat up and began, to both of her parents’ surprise, giggling. “Naughty pony!” She scolded playfully wagging her finger at Peggy and stood up. She clumsily brushed the dirt off her new jodhpurs.

           “You okay, Jo?” Tommy knelt down and inspect her for any cuts or bruises. But it appeared she'd only gotten a little dirty from the tumble.

           “Yeah, daddy, I’m okay.” She beamed. “I wanna get back up though, that wasn't long 'nough time.”

           Tommy couldn’t help but smile and glance back at his panicked wife with a shrug. “She’s a wild gypsy girl, that’s for sure. Not afraid to fall off, aye?” He stood up and brought Johanna back over to Peggy.

           “Oh, Tommy, I think that’s enough for today.” Leah shakily called from the fence.

           “Lee, if she doesn’t get back on now, she never will. Can’t be afraid of it.” He assured her and hoisted his daughter back into the saddle.  

           She chewed on her lip but reluctantly retreated back to the blanket. “You Shelby children, so much like your father.” She sighed and brushed back Charlie’s hair.

           He smiled and shrugged. “Did Grace like horses?” He wondered.

           “I think so, you know your father had a beautiful racehorse named after her.”

           “Has he named a horse after you?”

           “He tried to a while back.” Leah remembered, picking up Molly and placing her in her lap. “But I convinced him to go with a different name. I’m not so much of a horse whisperer as you all are.”

           Charlie nodded and leaned against her arm, watching the ring. “I like horses.” Then he added quietly, “They’re good listeners.”

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe​ @evelynshelby​

Tag list: @shelbyblinded​

Masterpost 

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[tr4shmouth-tozi3r]

‘are you sure?’ - stanley uris x reader

requested: yes and it took me a bit to get this out cause I legit suck sorry guys lol, but I honestly loved writing this one its adorable🥺

summary: It’s finally Senior year, the last year all of the losers would spend together completely before they all went off to college. Stan and y/n had made a pact as young kids, that throughout the years if they hadn’t had their first kiss and so on, they would be each other’s first for everything. Now at the age of 12 or so, they don’t really fully realize what that entails, but once they hit 14 and share their first kiss, then 15 and it was their first date, then 16 and it was their first hickey, and so forth they start to realize there’s a first that they hadn’t talked about and by this time around they’ve finally found themselves together in a comitted relationship. Their first relationship. Now, it was time to go farther than they ever had, they both wanted it, but who would speak up first? There’s only one night left before they all go their separate ways and one night can change everything.

pairing: stanley uris x reader

warning: super fluff, smut, swearing.

-

August 29th, 1994

“I can’t believe we all leave tomorrow.” Eddie’s voice spoke solemnly and he let out a sad sigh following his words. All of his friends looked at him with sad smiles and nodded in agreement.

“Eds, I just want you to know, I’ll still keep in touch,” Eddie smiled briefly at Richie’s kind words, but instantly a frown took over his features when the taller boy kept speaking, “I mean, how could a step father ever abandon his step child?”

“Rich, shut the fuck up.” y/n laughed and spoke loudly in Richie’s direction as she lifted her head out of her boyfriend, Stan’s lap who was already rolling his eyes at Richie.

“Hey, it’s true.” Richie smirked at Eddie as he spoke to y/n.

“Can you guys just address it already before you leave and regret it, we put up with your suppressed feelings for years. That shit was stressful.” Mike laughed as Richie’s face flushed and y/n felt the fits of laughter vibrate in her boyfriend’s belly against her head. She looked up at him, a genuinely happy smile adorning her face. She loved Stanley Uris with all her heart and leaving for college and leaving the place where she met some of the most important people to her, was weighing down on her heavy in that moment.

She tuned out the bickering that began to ensue around her and she looked up at him, thinking back to when they were 12.

-

July 7th, 1988

“Let’s make a deal, everyone has a first for almost everything, right? How about if we haven’t had our first kiss and so on, we’ll promise to be each other’s?” Stan blushed at his own statement. He wondered if he was being too forward or too obvious. He had a crush on y/n since they were about 8 or 9 years old and he never thought she would ever feel the same. Boy, was he wrong.

“You got yourself a deal, Stanley.” y/n smiled, a blush creeping onto her face as well.

“W-Wait, really?” He was flustered and she laughed.

“Of course.”

-

July 13th, 1990

It was Stan’s birthday and he was 14 today. You had been 14 for a few months now. You still remembered the pact you guys had made two years ago and you wondered if he did, too.

Ring, ring, ring.

The landline on your bedside table shook you from your thoughts and you answered and instantly smiled as you heard Stan’s voice on the other line, “I’m coming over, need to see my best friend on my birthday, right?”

“Of course, and I have a gift for you, better hurry up!” You hung up before he could speak and you mentally slapped yourself. What the fuck was that? I sounded so ridiculous. He’s gonna show up expecting a gift and what am I going to say? It’s my lips?

You sighed heavily, your cheeks turning bright red. Oh god, you were about to mess this up. You could feel it. He didn’t live very far either, so you didn’t have much time to figure this out.

You spent most of the time waiting for him, pacing back and forth in your room and feeling the way your palms were becoming ridiculously sweaty. Don’t get too worked up, relax!

“y/n, Stan’s here, he’s coming up!” Your mom called out from the bottom of the stairs and it felt like your stomach almost fell out of your ass, you were so nervous.

He walked in with a big smile on his face and enveloped you in a sweet hug, “Hey, so where’s this present? Is it another pair of binoculars? I totally don’t need another pair, but another wouldn’t hurt I guess.” He laughed and then noticed your jittery state and how nervous you looked. Before he could speak again, you began to ramble.

“Do—shit okay, do you remember, when w-we were 12 and we uh, we made that pact?” His confused expression disappeared instantly and he smirked at you.

“You remember? Holy shit, I was thinking about that all day, but figured I’d look like a weirdo bringing it up, but you remember...” He murmured sweetly, his eyes widening and the adoration on his face was clear.

“Well, yeah I remember...” you twiddled with your thumbs, “So, I mean, you haven’t had your first kiss have you?” Your eyes shot up and looked into his and he shook his head furiously.

“No, no no, have you?”

“No.”

“So—”

Before he could speak another word, you stepped forward and cupped his face in your hands and your lips pressed against his, in short and sweet kiss and you pulled back slightly just to catch a glimpse of his reaction. You wanted to make sure he was okay with this and judging from the way he leaned forward and pulled you back in and kissed you quite feverishly, he totally was.

-

You thought about how the year after that came your first date and the year after that things got a little more intense. It was your first hickey and his as well. That one, you swore up and down was unnecessary, but Stan was more than eager and you couldn’t lie, you wanted to know what it felt like. And god, did it feel good. Or maybe it felt as good as it did, because the boy you were in love since you were in 4th grade had his lips pressed so firmly to your neck. His tongue traced your skin so softly, sending shivers up your spine and when he nibbled on the nape of your neck you had let out an involuntary moan. This totally only feels this good when you’re in love. You always told yourself that.

After the hickey escapades your group of friends noticed and relentlessly teased the two of you. They teased you so often and so badly, that they basically drove the two of you into each other’s arms. You didn’t mind, though. You and Stan were both very stubborn and also very shy sometimes. Even when it was clear as day, right in front of you both, you and him chose to ignore it out of fear. And now that you think about it, fear of what? God, 16 is such a weird hormonal age. It was obvious there was something there, but you both would never say it unless the other would admit it and like I said, both of you were very stubborn. So, you would always say your friends brought you two together.

Now, here you were. You were 18 years old, ready to leave for college and leave this life behind and depart from your life long friends. Something was eating away at you, nagging in the back of your mind.

There was still a first that you and Stan had yet to share and you only had about 12 more hours left before that opportunity was out the window. You weren’t sure when you would see him or any of your other friends again, you wanted to make your last night with him memorable. You wanted it to count.

-

You hummed softly, shutting your eyes and wanting to take mental note of the way he smelled sweet like cinnamon and his breathe always tickled your neck in the same spot when you laid with him like this. You took note of the way his thumb would circle over your hip bone, slowly and sweetly. He held you against him like he never would again, but he always did that. He always savored every minute he had with you in his arms, but now he was really savoring it. You were going to try and make plans for Thanksgiving or Christmas, neither of you were too sure which one and if it would even be 100% possible, but you chose not to think about that right now. Right now, he was here with you and you still had about 10 hours before you would be parting ways.

Stan leaned back, pulling his head away from the crook of your neck and looked at you, “What are you thinking about, babe?” He propped his body up with his elbow and rested his head on his hand, his eyes studying your face.

“I...” You breathed out, suddenly feeling as nervous as you did the day that had kissed him for the first time, “I just... I feel like there’s something we should be doing before we leave. Something that I wanna share with you, another first... it’s been eating away at me for the passed couple of weeks. It’s silly, and you probably don’t want to so—”

“No, stop. Don’t say that, of course I want to. Whatever it is, I want to. I want to do everything with you, y/n.” Your heart soared at the way your boyfriend spoke to you. He was so sweet and he wasn’t even trying to be.

“I want to... I want to have sex with you. Tonight. Preferably right now.” You let your eyes wander across the ceiling as you spoke and you were preparing for the worst when you didn’t hear a single thing come out of Stan’s mouth. As you turned to face him, his lips were parted slightly and his eyes were wide with that same look of adoration he had in his eyes when you were 14 years old rambling on about how you wanted to kiss him.

“God, I’m so in love with you.” He kissed you quite fast and with a longing you couldn’t explain. He wanted to kiss you until you were stuck together and you could never leave each other, but he knew that was impossible. A guy can dream, right?

“Are you sure?” You searched his eyes for any sign of doubt and found nothing. All you saw was the way his eyes were dilated and lips quivered in excitement. The way that his cheeks were flushed and his hands were shakily tracing over your arms and your waist.

“Yes, why are you even asking? I’ve wanted this since last year, but I didn’t want to say anything and make it weird. Plus, I just felt like you weren’t ready and now you are. I knew if you wanted it as bad as I did, you would suck it up and say it first, so I waited, but god I’ve wanted it for a long time. I swear,” He pressed his lips to your jaw and trailed kisses down your neck. His touch softened and he became as gentle as you’ve ever experienced him to be. This was new. This felt different. He took care of you.

You had rolled your eyes at the fact that he admitted his fear of telling you he had wanted this, so he waited for you to speak up first. You were both shy sometimes, yes, but out of the two of you it was safe to say that you were the boldest. You said things when they needed to be said. You did things when they needed to be done. And this needed to be said and done.

You smiled at the way he undressed you slowly, taking his time with you. He was really really trying to savor this now. His eyes scanned over your half naked body, watching as you blushed and tried to cover yourself.

“Baby, stop. Don’t cover yourself, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I wanna remember what you look like right now. I wanna close my eyes on the drive out of here tomorrow, and picture this moment. How you opened up to me and gave me the privilege to share something so meaningful with you. Something so intimate. I wanna remember the night that you really became mine in a whole new way.” His words were soft and full of love and his eyes glistened in the light that illuminated your room. He was so damn gorgeous.

“I love you.” You leapt forward, kissing him so hard you were sure your lips were swollen already. He reached around you, unclasping your bra. His fingers barely touched your shoulders as he sluggishly pulled the bra off of your chest. Goosebumps rose across your skin and the cool air hit your chest. He trailed kisses down your chest and whispered sweet nothings to you the whole way, in between kisses.

You were breathing so heavily, you felt like everything was going to collapse around you. At this point, you were completely naked, legs spread and Stan in between them in just his underwear. He pressed against you, letting you know how hard he was and you hummed against his lips. You felt yourself getting wetter and wetter by the minute. You thought you were going explode.

“I really hate this part. It’s going to hurt a bit, before it feels good and I don’t want to hurt you.” He murmured sweetly and you smiled.

“This is a good hurt. I want this. I want to have this with you. If it makes you feel better, talk me through it, kinda turns me on anyway.” You giggled and he laughed at you, placing a kiss against your forehead.

“Good to know.” He whispered. By this time, he was completely naked as well and back in between your legs positioning himself and pausing for a moment. He held on to himself as he slowly pushed his head against your entrance, “If it hurts, just tell me to stop, okay baby?” He tangled his other hand in your hair and you breathed a shaky okay in response.

He pushed into you further and you gasped, the pain hitting you in small waves, but you didn’t want to stop. He locked eyes with you, “Does it hurt? I’ll stop baby.” You furiously shook your head and without thinking, you pushed your hips into him and he suddenly found himself pushed fully inside of you. You yelped slightly and he groaned.

“Babe, that was totally a bad move if you were in pain.” He breathed, revelling in how amazing it felt to be inside of you.

“Keep going.” You whispered as you wrapped your arms around his neck and locked your ankles around his waist, “Please...” You bit your lip and suddenly you were gasping as he slowly pulled back, sliding almost completely out of you and then thrusting back into you softly.

“Fuck...” He was breathing heavily against your skin as he buried his head into your neck. He began to kiss and lick all over the skin before him, biting and sucking sweetly on your neck, “I love you so much, I’ve loved you since we were kids. This is the best moment of my life.” He picked up his pace, noticing the pleasure beginning to course through you. Your eyes half lidded and your lips swollen and wet from you licking them. Your face was flushed and your forehead was covered with a small trail of sweat. He looked down at you, into your eyes and wrapped you up in his arms. You clung to him, moaning out his name as you felt him slide further into you.

“I love you, too. I love you so much, too.” You whimpered and he groaned at the way you spoke. You sounded so sexy to him, he loved it.

You could still feel the sting and you winced a bit at the way his hips met yours, “Shhh, it’s okay baby, I’ve got you.” He moaned, “I’ve got you, mmm.”

“Stan, oh my god,” You gasped as his hips came up again, this time a bit harder and a whole new pleasure flew throughout your body, “It doesn’t hurt anymore, go faster, please.” You moaned loudly this time and he threw his head back as he squeezed you tightly, doing as you asked.

“Like this?” Your eyes met as he thrusted in and out of you, at a fast steady pace. You felt your body buzz in ecstasy and he leaned forward engulfing your lips in a hot chaste kiss. Your tongues tangled together and your hands roamed every inch of each other’s bodies.

“Yes, yes.” You cried out in pleasure as he started thrusting harder.

“You’re so beautiful.” He moaned sweetly and you watched as he titled his head back and closed his eyes and in that moment you came undone.

Your legs shook and your ankles detached from around him, your body practically melting into the mattress beneath you, “I-I’m cumming.” You spoke in between breaths and he leaned into you, as you arched your body into him. Your stomach exploded and your walls tightened around him and you swore you saw stars.

“That’s it baby, cum for me.” His thrusts became sloppy and he murmured I love yous over and over again as he twitched inside of you, finally letting himself go and spilling into you. You rode out your orgasms together, tightly pressed against one another, as if you were becoming one person.

You held onto him as you both came down from your highs, savoring the moment of being wrapped up in each other. Feeling him pressed flush against your body, skin stuck to skin, hearts beating erratically against each others.

He pressed his forehead to yours and slid out of you, turning over and laying beside you, “That was the best first by far. You’re amazing.” He pulled you against him, kissing top of your head.

“It definitely was.” You smiled up at him, “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much, too y/n.”

-

Okay, I’m actually extremely pleased with how this turned out. This was beautiful:’)

I hope you guys liked it, and to the anon that requested it I hope it was worth the wait for you❤️

[trashynoona]

Clothes.

Imagine opening your wardrobe, for that spring cleaning you ought to have done ages ago. As you sort through your hundredth cute outfit into the ‘keep’, ‘donate’ and ‘throw’ pile, you notice a box of clothes that you haven’t seen in awhile.

The old high school tshirt you had borrowed the first time you slept over at his place. The dress shirt you picked out for a formal event. The jumper you casually claimed ownership of. The flannel that you gladly accepted when he was clearing his wardrobe. These are his clothes. No, these WERE his clothes. You sigh. These clothes were no longer just clothes, they’re memory agents; each item carrying a very vivid memory you shared with him. They used to be special, but not anymore. In fact, they have been packed away such a long time ago that you had absolutely forgotten about their existence.

Hold on, why do you still have them if you had broken up ages ago? Ah right, Kim, your best friend, had forced me to do a wardrobe clean up after you hung around your room moving around for an unhealthy extended amount of time. You could not bear to part with all his belongings, so you ended up making a deal with Kim; to throw everything, except his clothes. You smile at that memory. It was a sight to remember, ‘no no I need this, please!’ You begged Kim while snot carelessly dripped onto the tip of your lip. Kim carelessly threw every thing that he had left at your place into a black trash bag. She would never understand, she did not have access to the memory bubbles these item/ held.

You picked up the old tshirt from the box. It smelled staled, as it should be.

‘Would you... perhaps... like to stay over tonight?’ Taehyung avoided your eyes as he shyly traced squiggly lines on your palm.

It was the first week since you guys have started dating. You became acquainted with Taehyung after you guys bonded over your love for melted ice cream when you offered to share your table with him in your university’s cafeteria. It was the first time Taehyung had invited you over to his place since you became official.

‘I’d love to. But... I have nothing to wear...’ you timidly replied.

‘Oh oh don’t worry! You can wear my high school tshirt! It’s super worn in and super comfy! I promise you’d like it!!!’ Taehyung was rambling as he jumped out of the sofa and into his bedroom.

‘Here!’ He showed you his washed out tshirt with a triumphant glee.

You guys took turns to wash up in the bathroom. You fumbled around with Taehyung’s tshirt. The fabric was made out of white cotton and the fact that it has been so worn it makes it very translucent. You were not used to wearing a bra to sleep, but you did not wanted to appear to brazen. But what’s the point of putting on a bra if it’s going to come off anyway? You made your decision and headed out of the bathroom.

Tae was fidgeting at the edge of his bed when your eyes met. Placing his hand on the bed for support, Tae struggled to place his eyes.

‘Is this... too much?’ You asked.

‘NO. No. Not at all.’ Tae responded as he shot out of bed.

‘You look beautifuller than I ever will in this tshirt.’ He muttered as he closed the gap between you.

That was the first night you had spent with your new boyfriend, Tae. Subsequently, it became a no brained for you to pick up the washed out high school tshirt whenever you stay over at his place. It always had an effect on Tae, it turns him into a very horny, very helpless puppy.

It was your faculty’s mid year formal and you’ve decided to attend as a couple. The only problem was that Tae was more of a ‘street fashion kinda guy’ as he described himself. His only white dress shirt has turned yellow and no way were you going to allow him to wear that garbage out.

You loved Tae, except when it came to shopping. Your boyfriend was the fussiest shopper ever. Too narrow, too pale, too baggy. In your eyes, it seemed like Tae was nitpicking every outfit he had tried on. By the 15th outfit, you lost it.

‘Kim Taehyung. Are you even taking this seriously?! Just tell me if you’d rather wear your yellow wash cloth. I’ve had enough!’ You half yelled as Tae came out of the dressing room in a pale lilac shirt, coupled with a deep purple suit.

‘Babe, I just want to look good for you.’ Tae pouted. Your boyfriend had that effect on you. For some reason, he looked like a five-year-old child who have just broken his favourite toy whenever he was down. How could you stay mad at him?

‘Sweetie, you look good in everything. In fact, I don’t even think I’d mind that much if you went in that washcloth of yours as long as you’re with me!’ You comforted the doe-eyed man.

‘Aw babe. I know you’d love me a little less if I had turned up in that washcloth. I actually really like this set, shall we?’ The boxy grin was back, as you marvel at your blessing for having Tae as your boyfriend.

In the end, you decided to pay for the lilac dress shirt to commemorate what you decided was your first formal event together. Your cheeky boyfriend on the other hand, announced to the world that it was a cover up to commemorate the first time you got mad at him.

In time to come, you’d realise Tae was setting you off more than you expected. You loved him, but you could not understand how could a grown man be so silly and happy-go-lucky all the time.

This leads you to the jumper. It was your first winter together and it was about 6 months into your relationship. You had just stormed off from your boyfriend’s place for a reason you can no longer recall.

Just as Tae thought you might be gone for good, he heard a little knock on the door, to the rhythm you have both came up with.

‘Babe?’ Tae muttered as he rushed to the door.

‘There’s a snow storm, I can’t leave. But I’m still mad at you!’ You push Tae aside as you invite yourself into the warm room.

Some how, Tae managed to appease you and you guys had the best make up sex that night. You had Tae’s jumper on as he licked your pussy just the way you liked it.

‘Do the Super Sonic babe’ you moaned as you grabbed a bunch of your boyfriend’s hair.

‘At your command mam.’ Tae muttered as he worked his way skilfully around your clit.

‘Super Sonic’ was a silly name Tae had invented for the technique that he knew would drive you crazy. As the name suggests, he had a mad way of moving his tongue at a high speed you could not imagine yourself. Perhaps it was the fact that he was highly skilled with the saxophone that trained his mouth muscle; but this boy can go on forever. The finale to ‘Super Sonic’ is a mind blowing orgasm that ends with you squirting all over.

‘I love you, so much , babe.’ Tae confessed for the first time as your wetness coated his face.

‘I love you too Tae.’ You said as you wiped the mixture of bodily fluid off your boyfriend‘s face.

You sigh as you picked up the last item in the box. The flannel shirt. It was the shirt that contained the most memories. It was Tae’s favourite shirt, so, it was naturally yours too.

Taehyung had worn the flannel on the day you first met and chatted over an hour. You had a tutorial to attend but you did not have the heart to interrupt the handsome stranger who was going on and on passionately about his love for melted vanilla ice cream.

The truth was, you were so busy chatting with Kim that you had forgotten to eat your ice cream. You never had a particular liking for melted ice cream but you went with it anyway, just because.

Tae wore the same flannel on your first date. The boy had planned to bring you to the carnival. Except, in typical taehyung fashion, he had forgotten to check for the weather forecast. You were actually glad that it rained, for you have acrophobia. You literally have to pop medically prescribed sleeping pills whenever you had to fly. But you went with it anyway, just because.

Tae turned up in the same flannel shirt the first time he met your family. You brought him around your childhood home for a tour when he came across a photo of you and a familiar stranger as children.

‘Babe you’ve never told me you have a brother?’ Tae asked.

‘Oh.. erm, he lives faraway and doesn’t come back often anymore.’ You answered as you hurriedly pushed Tae onwards. The truth is, your big brother had killed himself several years ago. It had taken away a part of your family, but you decided it was not time to tell your boyfriend the truth, just because.

Coincidentally, Tae was also wearing the same flannel shirt the day you guys decided to split for good. It was true that you could not stand how childish and flighty Tae could be. But Tae was the one who insisted on the break up.

‘It’s like I can never truly get to you. Do you even trust me?’ Was one of the last things you could remember Tae saying to you.

It was true, to an extent. It’s not that you could not trust Tae, but rather, you simply could not trust yourself. After the death of your dear brother, you have feared opening up to new people. You were terrified that they too, would leave.

You wish you had fought for Tae to stay. But you could not. The only thing you did was muster the courage to ask for that flannel shirt. The flannel that started it all and ended it all.

You decided to place all of taehyung’s clothes into the ‘throw’ pile, for it was just too painful to imagine somebody else wearing his clothes; unaware of the stories that came with it.

It has been over a year since Taehyung and you had broken up. You did not keep in contact since and decided perhaps it was time to casually check out his profile. Tae was looking very handsome and cheeky as usual. He was wearing a new flannel shirt with the Gucci shoulder bag that you have bought for him for your first and only one year anniversary. You smile to yourself and wondered if Tae still think of you whenever he used the bag, or perhaps, it is simply a bag to him now, a meaningless, overpriced bag. You will never know.

Just then, a notification came in and blocked your view of your ex boyfriend.

‘Heyyyy, just wanted to confirmed if we’re still on for drinks tonight?’ - Jin.

Yes, you have moved on. Memories of taehyung no longer leave you in tears and despair. You were regretful that you never found the courage to open up to taehyung but you figured, these things are not meant to be forced. Perhaps you had never found that courage because Tae was never the one to be. At one point, both Tae and you were probably convinced that you were meant to be. Unfortunately, time has proven otherwise. You are open to going on dates now. You are not sure if you will ever find the strength to break down all your walls, however, in the meantime, no harm trying you suppose.

Ps. It took forever to find Tae in a flannel, it’s almost like flannel is his fashion crux or something. Rip.

[benhardyisdaddy]

Royal Protection - Part 5

MASTERLIST

(fluffy ben is MY FAV SJWDOAJDD also that gif is what i imagine ben wearing ugh hes so cute i cant right now)

Word Count: 2,639

Kentucky, USA. 

You had finally arrived. 

That plane ride was the most gruesome eight and a half hour flight you had ever had to be on. The only good thing was having Ben to look at every so often. He wasn’t much of a talker. In fact, when you do try to spark up a conversation with him, he doesn’t respond at all and you know he hears you. It’s not that he’s being rude, he’s just trying to stay focused on his job. This is sort of a big deal and he can’t mess this up. Believe me, he so badly wants to talk to you and get to know you better, but he was hired to do his job. Not sit around and talk about his favorite color, which you’ve asked him about ten times now. You’d ask him something, watch him closely and frown when all he does is stare forward. There’s no emotion on his face, just a blank slate. His poker face was brilliant, you were almost jealous.

As soon as the jet landed, you weren’t allowed to get off of it for another hour. More security had to do a thorough walk through, making sure everything was all clear for you. Terminals got put under inspections, bags were checked over again and flights were put on hold until every inch of that tiny airport was covered. You were beyond embarrassed, but nobody knew what the lock down was for. They didn’t know the princess was arriving and they surely wouldn’t recognize you as being her. Your outfit was plain, your hair was pulled back and a giant pair of red heart shaped sunglasses covered your eyes perfectly. Now nobody would notice you. You slipped the glasses on and admired yourself in your tiny mirror that’s stashed away in your purse. You dart your eyes over and watch as Ben looks at you. Obviously just staring at the glasses, you think to yourself. Definitely not just wanting to look at me. I mean his job is to protect me, why wouldn’t his eyes be glued to me.

“Are you ready, princess?” he asks, walking up closer to you.

You stand up quickly and stretch your sore, tired muscles. The time here was going on 6:45pm and back home it was already 11:45pm, almost midnight. This time change was going to mess with you. You were already exhausted and it was only dinner time.

“I will be when you start calling me y/n and not princess.” you sass, walking past him and to the planes exit.

He’s behind you in a second, looking around frantically. Ben also had to wear normal clothes and not his usual all black suit, which you will miss him being in, if you’re being honest. He changed on the plane and slipped on a pair of dark jeans and a grey sweater, resulting in you practically drooling in your seat. Who’s idea was it to hire the model as your guard again? You want to thank them over and over and over and over. You walk off the plane and allow the warm breeze to hit you. 

You close your eyes and take in a deep breath, happy to finally be on the ground. The air was different than back home. It was more stickier and warmer, the breeze having no cooling effect whatsoever. It was nice. You’ve never seen an airport this tiny in your life. What, did one or two planes fly out per day? You were in shock. You walk down the jets steps and make your way to the building, noticing an open door. Ben speeds up a bit and stands beside you, looking around secretly. You’re scared people would stare at you and notice (like usual), but they don’t. That’s a first.

“We have a hotel booked for tonight, but this isn’t the town we’re staying in.” says Ben as he leans over to whisper to you. “Permanent location is a town over. More secluded.”

You roll your eyes and dryly laugh.

“Oh, great. As if any place could be more secluded than this.”

Ben watches you and fights back a smile as you both walk to the front entrance of the airport and outside. Another large, black SUV is waiting out front for you. Ben opens the back door and you slip inside. Your luggage had already been retrieved and placed in the car. You’re buckling your seat belt when your phone cellphone goes off.

“Oh, my love! We miss you so much.” says your mother, obviously teary eyed.

You sigh and smile to yourself, looking over to Ben quickly.

“I miss you too, mum. How’s dad?” you ask fast.

“I’m right here, darling.” you hear him shout out.

You close your eyes and feel your heart break as tears threaten to spill. You can’t stop smiling in fear of if you did, you’d end up sobbing.

“I miss you all so much already.” you whisper.

“And we miss you even more!” says your mother. “We promise to check up on you every day, alright? You need to go get some rest.”

You agree with her as you all say your goodbyes. You hang up your phone and stare at it, wishing you could tell them goodnight in person. You look back up and over to Ben, who’s watching you.

“You alright, princess?” he asks, almost worried.

You smile at him and sniffle a bit, trying to hide your once sad emotions. You were now happy and smiley.

“Y/n is doing just fine, thank you.” you tease him.

You look out the window and huff to yourself as it feels like you’ve been driving for forever.

“Are we there yet?” you ask, causing Ben to smirk.

***

Motel sign with a pink flamingo next to it. That’s how you were introduced to the place you were staying the night at. A sketchy building with questionable people standing outside, staring as the car pulled up. Maybe they should have picked a different vehicle for this. You swallow hard as large, scary man stares as Ben helps you out of the car. He’s smoking a cigarette as his other three friends turn to stare at you as well. You stand closer to Ben, his eyes secretly watching them. 

The men all smirk and look you up and down, practically devouring you with their eyes. You shudder and without thinking, you reach down and take Ben’s hand tightly. You hold it and don’t want to let go, causing him to look down at you. He wasn’t expecting that at all, but he wasn’t going to pull away. You were scared and he knew it. You were use to palaces and five course meals, not one star motels and McDonald's. He just squeezed your hand gently, telling you it was going to be okay. You relaxed a bit as you finally get to your room. The driver of your car brings up yours and Ben’s bags as he thanks him. They speak for a moment before he leaves.

“Lock the door!” you tell him. “Bolt it too! Maybe put a chair in front of it. Does the glass window break easily, do you think?”

You keep rambling on about safety as Ben just smiles and walks closer to you.

“Princess, I promise everything is okay. I’m here to protect you. I will protect you.”

You stare at him and finally take in a deep, calming breath. You look down and smile as you nod.

“I know. I’m acting silly. I’m acting like the rich, snobby girl who’s never had to fend for herself.” you look up to Ben.

“I don’t think you’re acting anything like that.” he starts. “I think you’re out of your comfort zone and in an area you’re not familiar with. Anyone would be just as scared if they were in your position.”

You smile to him and feel warm by him defending you and making you feel better. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “But I’m not scared.” 

A soft smile is on his face as he watches you, knowing you’re lying. Your face heats up at his staring, causing you to look away and around the room. You heart falls when you finally realize something. How had you not noticed that the moment you stepped inside? There was only one bed.

“It’s all they had.” he says, as if he had just read your mind.

You whisper an ‘oh’ as you look back around once more. As sketchy as this place may seem, the room was actually very nice. Everything looked clean and brand new. Brand new TV, brand new mini fridge, the carpet was spotless and you can tell the bed sheets had been washed. You were impressed really. You stand up from the bed and walked over to the bathroom, impressed once more. Clean and upgraded. You purse your lips as you dig through your luggage and retrieve some pajamas.

“I’m gonna shower.” you tell him, grabbing a towel.

He nods as he types something into his phone.

“I’ll be right here, princess.”

You roll your eyes and walk into the bathroom, but not before yelling out a ‘it’s y/n!’ You turn on the shower and allow the hot water to steam up the bathroom, fogging up the mirror. You wipe away the residue and stare at yourself. You looked tired, which you were. This hot shower would soothe your sore muscles and more than likely help you relax. You undress quickly and make sure the door is locked once more. You get into the shower and sigh when the water hits you. You smile and allow it to cascade all over. You wash your hair and yourself, feeling much more clean and better. You finish up and wrap a towel around yourself. You step out and suddenly realize you forgot your pajama bottoms. You mentally yell at yourself as you walk to the door and open it up just slightly.

“Ben?” you whisper out, hoping he’d hear you.

You wait for a moment, but no response.

“Ben?” you say louder, knowing he would definitely hear you.

But still, nothing. You knit your brows together, a bit freaked out he isn't responding. Where could he possibly be!? You open the door up just a little more and listen. You don’t hear anything. No footsteps, no talking, nothing. Just silence. You tense your jaw hard as you open the door even more and take one step out, trying to peer into the room, but not able to see it all. You take in a deep breath and decide to dart to your bag, hoping maybe Ben had stepped outside for a moment. You hold the towel close to yourself as you sprint towards the luggage, but suddenly you’re colliding with something. You slam into it hard, almost taking your breath away. You gasp and fall backwards, your towel riding up a bit. You pull it down quickly and watch as Ben pulls his headphones out of his ears, a horrified look on his face. His mouth is wide open as he leans down and tries to help you stand up, but you swat his hand away.

“What were you doing!?” you shout. “I called out your name!”

“Princess, I’m so, so sorry! I was listening to a voice memo and was just using my headphones. I apologize. I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” he asks sincerely, looking you up and down to make sure you’re okay.

As he’s staring, his face goes red. He finally realizes you’re in nothing but a towel, something you had forgotten as well. You blush hard as you cross your arms against your chest, looking away from him.

“I, uh, I’m fine. I just forgot my shorts, that’s all. Really, I’m okay. It’s okay.”

You hurriedly walk around him and find your shorts in an instant. You turn back around and awkwardly smile as you show Ben them. He smiles back and nods, moving out of your way. You walk back to the bathroom and locked the door. You stare at yourself in the mirror once more and mentally curse yourself for all of that. You wave your arms around like crazy and act like you’re screaming, helping you take out some of your anger towards yourself. That was beyond embarrassing.

***

You slip under the covers and moan at the feel of the soft mattress beneath you. Your head lands on the pillow and you swear you could fall asleep at that very moment. You open your eyes and watch as Ben grabs a blanket from the tiny closet near the bathroom. He walks to an open space one the floor and spreads out the blanket, making sure it’s even. He then walks to the other side of the bed and reaches for a pillow.

“Um, what exactly are you doing?” you ask him, eyes narrowed.

He looks to the blanket on the floor and then back to you.

“Making my bed for the night?” he says, confused.

You sit up on your elbows and raise a brow.

“You’re going to sleep on that hard floor all while there’s a comfy bed right here?” you ask.

Ben’s eyes go wide for a moment, before he purses his lips.

“Oh, um…” he doesn’t know what to say. “This is your bed, princess. I’m not going to take it over.”

“Take it over? You mean you want your back to kill you in the morning? Your back hurting means you’re focused on it, which means you’re not paying enough attention to your job.” you say while you smile smugly.

You know damn well what you’re doing.

“Princess,” he starts.

“Y/n.” you correct him once more.

He freezes and tightly smiles before speaking again.

“My back will be fine, I promise. It’s not the first time I’ve slept on the ground before and I can assure you it won’t be my last.”

He grabs his pillow and begins walking back to the blanket.

“Ben!” you call out, making him spin around. “As your princess and future queen, I demand that you sleep on this soft, cozy, warm, comfy, amazing, spectacular, wonderful-”

“Okay, okay. I understand. I’ll sleep on the bed.” he says, laughing at you.

You smile proudly as he walks back up and places his pillow next to yours. The bed was a queen, but it felt more snug than that. Ben slipped under the blankets and sighed at the softness.

“Told you.” you whisper to him, before turning your lamp off.

He lets out a breathy laugh and nods.

“You were right,” he starts. “Much better than the floor.”

You laugh and roll on your side to face him even though you can’t see him in the darkness. You may not be able to see him, but you can feel that he’s looking at you too. You smile to yourself and continue staring.

“You can thank me in the morning.” you whisper back.

A few minutes pass as you both laid there quietly. The only sounds you hear are some cars driving by and the slight hum coming from the mini fridge. You roll onto your back and stare forward, realizing you’re suddenly not tired. Maybe it’s because adrenaline is running through you or because Ben’s currently sleeping in the same bed. A man you barely know and just met is sleeping in the same bed as you. For some reason, you quite liked it.

“So,” you whisper out, enough for him to hear you. “Are you the big spoon or little spoon?”

You smirk as you hear him gently chuckle to himself.

“Goodnight, princess.” he whispers to you, clearly amused by your question.

“Goodnight, Benjamin.” you whisper back, not able to stop smiling.

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[evanstanhoney]

Priorities//Badboy!Shawn

a/n: this is a new concept i’m playing around with. let me know if you want more of this universe? i kinda like it, it’s right up my peaky blinders alley lol. also sorry for the title. 

summary: you're having a mini emergency, and shawn lets you know that no matter how crazy his life is, you will always be his number one. 

⚠️warnings: fluff, mentions of illegal activity

word count: 1.3k

You and Shawn were pretty independent in your relationship. You each had your own separate lives (Shawn's far more exciting than yours) and you respected that. There was no checking up on each other, or checking the other phone when one of you got home late. Your relationship was built on nothing but trust and respect for one other. That's not to say you didn’t worry, because of course, you did, but you never let that get the best of you or get in between your relationship. As long as he came back to you at the end of the day, you were fine.

But you had a shitty day. A really shitty day, and for the first time in the entire time you’ve been together you were blowing up his phone waiting for him to call. You were a little needy and wanted your big bad boyfriend to make it all better. After call number three, on the second ring, he finally picked up.

“Honey is everything okay, I’m working?”

You instantly felt guilty. Shawn working and another person's idea of working were two different things entirely. When Shawn was ‘working’ that meant he needed to focus,  and whatever it was he was doing needed his undivided attention or someone could get hurt.  

“I’m fine. I’m sorry -” you ramble, ready to hang up the phone. You can hear him excuse himself before he’s back on the phone with you.

“No, you’re not. You never call me like this.”

“It’s nothing, you’re working Brian probably -”

“Honey.” he’s got that tone in his voice. The one that makes you weak in the knees and has your heart pounding out of your chest.

God everything about him screamed danger, but fuck did you love him for it.

“I just had a shitty day and I hadn’t seen you and...just - I want to see you.”

“Did someone do something?” He nearly growls into the phone.  

Even if someone did do something, you wouldn’t tell him. You’d made that excuse once and you swore you’d never do it again. Although part of you enjoyed knowing he’d do anything to protect you, even if it wasn’t necessarily socially acceptable.

“What, no! Everything is fine, it’s just stupid school stuff.”

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll wrap things up here and then I’m all yours for the rest of the day.”

“Are you sure? I can wait until you’re done.”

“I’ll be home in about twenty minutes, okay?” you nod your head forgetting that he can’t see you “Honey?”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll see you.”

The moment you hang up the phone you instantly feel a weight lifted off of your chest. You feel so silly for it and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out just why you were feeling particularly needy today but knowing that Shawn was on his way to you calmed you down.

Having him home always calms you down. So often you didn’t know where he was, all you knew was that it was dangerous if you ever knew which only meant it was dangerous for him.

You’re at the refrigerator, looking at the contents as if you’d be able to get inspiration and make a meal out of eggs and a few cups of greek yogurt. You felt two strong arms around your waist and you jumped, but instantly relaxed when you smelled the familiar scent of cologne and leather.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” he lets out a little chuckle but behind his eyes, it’s all business. When it came to you and your happiness, he was always business. “What’s going on?”

You open up the freezer and opt for a pint of ice cream, taking a spoon from the drawer and hopping onto the kitchen counter. “You’re going to laugh when I tell you.”

He moves towards you on the other side of the kitchen, standing between your legs, hands resting on your thighs, “No I won’t. I promise.”

“I went to register for classes today and uh...the one class I need to graduate is full. I went to my advisor but she said there's nothing she can do.” You go on to explain the rest of the fiasco that was your time spent in the advising office, and how everything would be pushed back. You were working yourself up into a huge frenzy and when you finally stopped to look away from your ice cream at Shawn you see the exact opposite of what you expected splashed across his face.

“Why are you smiling, Shawn this isn’t good.” You ask around another spoonful of ice cream, and he only lets out another chuckle “this isn’t funny. My life is falling apart here.”

“Your life's not falling apart.” he shakes his head. He looks down at the pint of ice cream in your hands, opening his mouth and you feed him a scoop of his own.

“I just love hearing you talk about school. You're so smart you know that? Makes me wonder what you’re doing with the likes of me.”

“I’m going through a phase.” you quote, your mother rolling your eyes. It’s meant to be light-hearted but you see his shoulders slouch a little. “Hey, I’m kidding. I love you. You know that.”

And he does, its just that it's hard for him to believe it sometimes when he’s reminded that he’s nowhere near where you are in life. He’s never gotten a formal education past high school, he has no other real talents, aside from guitar and singing (which, how far can that really get anyone), all he knows how to do is outlaw. But at least he’s damn good at it.

“What is it that I pulled you away from anyway?” you quip genuinely curious.

“How much do you want to know this time?” He asks with a sigh, signaling for another scoop of ice cream and you spoon it to him.

“Ummm….20%.”

“It was mainly just a fight. We were discussing how we’re going to clean some of the money from the last job. We’ve got a shit ton of jewelry that we’ve got to get rid of, but none of our connections are buying. Too ‘risky’ they said.” He rolls his eyes, gritting his teeth “I told them we should find another job in the first place.”

The last job he and the boys pulled was pretty public. You never heard about the jobs, if anything there would be a small segment on the news, but it would be for one night and then it would be over. The last one though was a media circus, for nearly a week. Nothing was ever able to come back to them and everything turned out to be okay. The police got an anonymous tip and a generous donation and they looked the other way.

That was the first time you were ever really scared for Shawn.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called. I didn’t realize things were that bad, you have bigger things to worry about then my schedule.”

“No. Of course, I’m here. You're always going to be my number one.”

“Even when things are going to shit?”

“Especially when things are going to shit.” he smiles, cradling your face in his large hands, “if I didn’t have you I’d be going absolutely mental.” he stops for a moment, really taking in every inch of your face, “You’re my everything babe.”

“My badass outlaw boyfriend really got it bad for me. The guys know you’re this soft?”

“Shut up.” he giggles bringing you in for a sticky kiss that tastes like caramel and chocolate.

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