#I had to go through and delete like six what is wrong with me

[pastelwell]

I followed you for succession, and now feel weirdly joyful and sentimental that you found Hannibal after all this time and it's still able to captivate and inspire people. I'd give anything to watch Hannibal for the first time again. Hope you do end up posting your fic, would love to see what you do with those two!

This ask 💜 warmed my soul! Captivated is the word, I really did NAHT expect that show to grab me by the neck like this 🥴

Also for anyone concerned, I’m not remotely leaving my tomgreg era, I’m just entering my hannigram era simultaneously. I have the capacity to rotate two sets of deranged men deeply in love in my head at once, thank GOD.

Rly determined to finish a lil hannigram fic, so fingers crossed you will get to read it some day. I would love to contribute something to the fandom, even if I am eight years late to the party…

Thank youuuu for this ask, when I read ‘I followed you for succession’ I was NERVOUS but I’m so sooo glad you reached out with such a lovely message xx

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ spoil you, plug!eren

eren hated when you spent your own money, but you don’t listen.

thinking about the way plug!eren would take you on his drops with him. you were so quiet and in your own world, he never minded the fact that you had your freshly white painted toes resting against the dash of his mercedes AMG coupe. the entire car was blacked out with expensive ceramic tints, protecting you both from your usual…late night activities.

your glasses rested on the cute bridge of your nose as your left leg was sat in eren’s lap while your right rested against the dashboard. eren was lucky that he fucked with most of his customers heavy…you two had been waiting for the dude to meet y’all for nearly thirty minutes now, and had it been someone else, eren would have sped away long time ago.

eren comfortingly rubbed your baby soft feet in the grasp of his tattooed hand, one with beautiful realism art of your own eye. with a turn of his head, he could see you practically nose deep in the bright screen of your phone illuminating through the car. “you growing bored mama?” his voice is concerned. “ian think we was gonna be waiting this long on dude…my bad baby.”

you hadn’t said much since you’d gotten in the car, just wanting to hurry and add all of your things to your shopping cart on the skims website. “nah, ‘m just…trying…to do somethin’ real quick,” you bite your lip as you tap away on your phone. you were trying to add as many things to your cart before it was gone. “before this shit sell out.”

eren being the nosy boy he is leans against your shoulder to see what you were doing. but the moment he’d seen you type in numbers that belonged to what he knew as your own debit card, he kissed his teeth in annoyance. “man how many times i gotta tell you to stop using your card to go shopping bae?” you roll your eyes at his words. “i’m serious, you got all three of my cards on ya phone for a reason. fuck is you typing in your info for?”

don’t get him wrong, eren loved the fact that you were independent and knew how to handle money almost perfectly now that you were in your twenties. but being together with you for so long, he continued to step up with his provider capabilities by always taking care of you. whether it was paying your bills, rent—everything in between.

but of course it was a struggle when ms. i can do it all by myself meets mr. i know you can but let me do it for you

“because i’m spending like 600 dollars,” you point out to his previous question with an obvious scoff. “i’m not asking you for that.” eren mirrors your actions and rolls his eyes again.

eren looks at you as if you’re insane and suffered memory loss for the past four years you’ve been together. “babe…i make that shit in one night. actually—fuck a night—i make that shit in two hours!”

it wasn’t like he was lying either, with the way that eren was one of the only trusted plugs in town, it was very easy that he’d bring at least a band a night on a consistent basis. selling for almost six years was finally paying off.

you two hardly ever fought, but if you did, it was always about money. eren knew how long you’ve had to do things on your own physically and financially. you couldn’t go to your mom for help, you didn’t have a dad to beg, so it was all on you since you’d been 16. but now that he had eren, he’d just wish you’d let him take the burden of money of your shoulders and take care of you the way you take care of him.

after a few minutes, your boyfriend holds his hand out. you give him crazy eyes, but eventually follow orders by putting your phone in his hand. “don’t know how many times i gotta tell yo stubborn ass, forreal,” he grunted. “‘s never a problem spoiling my baby. you don’t ever ask me for nothing. let me feel useful and get you stuff, mama.”

with a sigh, you nod your head, like you always did. there was no way eren was gonna take no for an answer when it came to spoiling his wife.

in response, eren uses his free hand to delete your information and instead place the correct numbers—the information to his amex black card. all the money he has, he sits and does nothing with it, so why not buy you all the things you’ve never had before?

when you hear the chime of your phone confirming your order, eren hands you the phone back and goes to look out his dark window.

with your acrylics, you grab eren by the neck and slowly turn him back to face you. “thanks papa,” you gave him genuine eyes.

eren leans forward and pecks your lips. with a serious face, he pecks you one more time before wrapping his tatted fingers around your neck erotically. with a look in your eyes he tells you, “always tell me what you want, no matter how much, mama. you know daddy gonna get that shit for you one way or another, regardless.”

[twilghtkoo]

xoxo - lee donghyuck

synopsis. in which, your little niece has a crush on your boyfriend.

pairings. donghyuck x reader (f)

genre. fluff, established relationship, non!idol au

warnings. none!

notes. this idea is inspired by this tiktok i saw T_T i was like holy shit this is cute now let’s make it about hyuck :D also something is wrong w my taglist, it says it got deleted but i didn’t delete it so i might have to make a new one😭 so if the link isn’t working that’s why!! just letting y’all know :)

masterlist | series masterlist

—

“and she hates the crust on her bread–“ your older sister tries to inform.

you push her out your door, mindlessly nodding your head. “i know, i know, don’t worry she’s gonna be fine. now go, before you’re late.” you wave to her one last time before you close the door behind her with a huff.

your six year old niece is still standing behind you with her bluey backpack on her shoulders that has all the things that would entertain her for tonight.

“hi, sweetie. i missed you,” you crouch down to her level, helping her out of her shoes and taking off her backpack.

“i missed you too, auntie!” she smiles and takes off to your living room, giggling.

you had already put on her favorite cartoon on your tv, as you follow her with her bag in your hands before placing it beside the couch.

she’s totally immersed herself in the animated slice-of-life adventures of the dog family. you stand inches away from her, amused at how she has blocked out all of her surroundings.

you turn to walk into your kitchen, thinking of preparing something easy for dinner.

“auntie!” your niece calls out from the living room.

you hum in response, putting away the dried dishes from last night.

“is donghyuck-ie coming over today?” she asks, curiously. and you know just by her tone and the mention of her second favorite person (first is obviously me) she’s twiddling her fingers.

you chuckle to yourself. “yes, he’s coming over later though.”

you hear her gasp before it goes back to being silent, the faint sound of the tv echoing through your apartment.

you’ve noticed your little niece’s infatuation with your boyfriend and you and donghyuck think it’s the cutest thing. she loves playing with him when he comes over while you’re babysitting her, making him sit in the living room with her and color and play with her toys. she gets all shy and geeky when donghyuck walks with her holding hands.

your older sister finds it funny and amusing.

“tell your boyfriend to stop being so handsome yeah? my daughter is bragging to everybody that donghyuck-ie bought her a toy.” your sister groans into your ear, on the phone with you.

—

you’ve been busy preparing dinner in the kitchen, appreciating the comforting sound of bluey and bingo playing along. every so and so minutes you check on your niece by calling her name.

“yes?”

“just checking on you, you good?”

she hums cutely. “yes auntie.” you peek your head out, seeing her sprawled out on the floor with her backpack next to her and all its contents spread out. she’s drawing something in front of the tv, concentrating with her tongue poking out as she scribbled with her crayons and gazing up at the tv.

she crawls up to her feet, bending down to grab the piece of paper she was doodling on before stomping over to you.

“auntie! auntie!”

you raise your eyebrows, giving her your undivided attention.

she shoves the piece of paper in your face. “look!”

you lean your head back, blinking, trying to adjust to what she’s showing you.

she’s holding up a stationary bluey themed piece of paper that has blue textured crayon words written neatly across the printed lines.

‘dear sunflower ♡’

you gasp, bringing your hands to cover your mouth. “is this a letter for donghyuck?” you whisper to her, from her view, your eyes shaped into crescent moons and your hands are covering your smile.

your niece giggles, using the letter in her tiny hands to hide her face as the pig tails from her head bounce from her nodding.

“he’s gonna love it! i mean, who doesn’t love bluey?” you ask rhetorically, hands on your hips.

“right?”

the doorbell chimes throughout your small home, both you and your niece look at each other with big eyes. already knowing who’s behind the door. your niece runs out the kitchen and into the living room squealing as you make your way to let your boyfriend in.

“hi pretty.” haechan grins at you, his eyelids looking a bit heavy and you already know work was tough on him. he still smiles and extends his arms out for you.

you wrap your arms around his neck, playfully groaning when he squeezes you tight in his grasp.

he lets out a breathy laugh, grabbing your waist to pull you away to connect his lips with yours in a slow, gentle kiss. his hands roaming over your lower back and creeping down to your ass.

“sunflower!” you both break the kiss, you walk back to the kitchen while he bends down to greet the little girl.

“aigoo, hi cutie. how are you?” you hear him coo at her.

—

“thank u yn for the food.”

“thank you auntie for the food!” they both say at the same time.

you reach over the table to grab their plates and placing them inside the sink, your niece jumps up from her seat and runs out the kitchen. donghyuck takes this moment to snake his hands from behind to lace his fingers together so you can’t run.

his body towering over you, he leans down to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck, peppering small kisses on your exposed skin. “thank you for dinner baby,” he mumbles against your skin.

you smile, “of course.”

“sunflower!”

he pats your ass, pecking the top of your head before walking away. “yes bum bum,” he replies. the nickname that seemed fitting and grew on her over time, it being short for bumble bee.

“i made something for you.” the little girl shyly utters, the piece of paper in her hands as she shoves it in his hands.

he laughs lightly, sitting on the balls of his feet. “did you draw something for me?”

she shakes her head, her toothy smile on display, her hands behind her back as she sways back and forth on her feet.

you appear behind donghyuck, relaxing your hand on his shoulder.

it’s a comforting silence in your apartment, he’s taking the time to carefully read each word and reading a certain word over again because of the misspelling but he finds it endearing, his smile growing wider as he gets closer to the end.

‘xoxo, bum bum :)’

“hugs and kisses, where did you learn that from?”

“school!” she exclaims.

“school shouldn’t be teaching you how to win hearts,” he states with a playful pout.

she clasps her hands together, stepping closer towards him to point at the tiny prints. “i used my bluey stationary kit, do you like the paper?”

“i do, i’m very honored and i’m going to hang it up in my home. this is my first letter i got from a girl!” he whisper-shouts in your niece’s ear.

obviously you heard him and that made you nudge him with your knee, making him lose his balance.

“auntie you have to write sunflower love letters.”

he smirks, “yeah, auntie.”

[covetyou]

no shortage of sordid

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader, Joel Miller x m!OC (unnamed) rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: very dubious consent (not from reader), oral sex (m receiving from m), voyeurism/exhibitionism, degradation, brief mention of food and allusion to hunger, unnamed m!OC, m/m, Joel is not exactly gay he's just a domineering asshole, drug reference word count: 3.1k summary: Your deal with Joel has changed into something else, something different to when you first came to his door asking for help months ago. But, when you try to take him up on your new arrangement, you're met with something you never expected.

A/N: this was originally a much shorter deleted scene from the start of the dark caress of someone else. I took it out because it was too much and after writing that chapter I told myself I would avoid writing threesomes for as long as possible, because god damn it there's too many body parts. well, me, fuck you, this is threesome adjacent and not technically a threesome at all.

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Six days. That's how long it takes for you to cave and admit you want him. It takes you another two to do anything about it.

The first time you make the trip to Joel's apartment, no pills necessary, you're faced with silence and a door that won't open.

With an hour break between your jobs the next day, you make another attempt. But, you barely make it through the market when you see him trailing behind Tess, hulking figure parting the crowd with ease. You don't stop to see where they're going, instead choosing to turn on your heel and head back the way you came. The less you know, the better. Using the cards he handed back to you nine days ago, you stop by a street food vendor on your way to your next job, eating your first hot meal not only of that day, but that week, the warm food soothing more than just the emptiness in your stomach.

It takes you much longer to convince yourself to try on the third day. Your thoughts hadn't immediately gone to Joel Miller that morning. You had toyed with going for a walk, with seeing if you could pick up more work. But soon your hands ache, bones creaking in their joints as you clench them once again, trying to stave off the want in your belly with the pinch of nails digging into your palms.

Fuck it. You're going. Whether he's there or not, the need to get out of this apartment far outweighs the desire to stay warm inside it.

So, one gray trudge across a gray Boston to a gray apartment block later, you're at his door. Again.

Only this time there's not silence on the other side.

You can hear a murmur - undoubtedly Joel by the heavy rasp of a wry laugh that follows it - and a garbled whimper.

And, of course, you could leave. You could turn your back and leave Joel up to whatever it is, whoever it is, he's doing in there, but you don't. You knock, wanting him to know that even if he's occupied, you showed up. You came to him, not for pills, but for sex. For want, for desire, for the ease of the ache between your legs and the itch in your palms that just won't quit no matter how much you make yourself come.

Even with company, he doesn't make you wait long.

So it's not that you're not expecting the shuffle of two sets of feet. Or the thud on the door, heavy and dull like something big had caught itself before falling down. You knew he wasn't alone and, after all, the only thing you could really expect when visiting Joel was that nothing would be as expected.

No, that's not what surprises you at all.

What surprises you is when the door drifts open a fraction, a disembodied hand reaching through and pulling you through the gap, dragging you inside. What surprises you is tripping over his shoes, only they're not his shoes, the feet turned the wrong way up to belong to the all too familiar man standing before you.

What surprises you is seeing a man on his knees in front of Joel Miller.

It surprises you so much, you don't even notice as the door clicks shut and the hand that dragged you inside pulls you once again to stand at his side.

From here you can get a full view. There's a man on his knees in front of Joel. Joel's pants are unbuckled and pulled low on his hips. And then, the entire scene becomes very, very clear.

There is a man on his knees in front of Joel with his cock in his mouth.

So, when Joel looks at you with a glint in his eye, you're suddenly rooted to the spot, staring between him and the man beneath him. A smirk from Joel tells you you've been looking a little too long so, embarrassed and not quite sure what to do with yourself, you spin around, turning to inspect the back of a chair as if it was the most interesting thing in the room, not the man currently bobbing his head up and down on Joel's length.

"Eyes on me, sweetheart," he drawls from behind you. "Ain't no fun for me if you ain't lookin'."

As you always do where Joel is concerned, you do as you're told, taking a deep breath as you turn back to watch the man swallow down Joel's cock. You'd seen this kind of thing before - turned down the wrong street at the wrong time more than once only to see someone on their knees for someone else, earning yourself a wink or an insult for the privilege. But you never stayed to watch. Yet, here you are, staying and watching either because it was Joel, or because he asked, you weren't too sure.

The why doesn't exactly matter, you figure, not when your cheeks were rapidly heating and the wet patch in your panties was doing nothing but grow.

"Think he likes the audience too," Joel is saying, nodding down to the guy on his knees. "Don't you?"

You can see that he does. There's a hard bulge in the front of his pants, a bulge that looks much harder than the cock currently in his mouth.

"Dick always so hard for a straight guy. Think you like being a cocksucker." Joel gives the man an awkward pat on the head and huffs out a laugh, looking away from him to look back at you.

"Likin' what you see, sweetheart?" he jokes, casting dark eyes up and down your body. He can't see much. It's still fucking freezing, which is no surprise for a February in Boston, and you're still wrapped up against the elements because of it. But you know his gaze is looking through all of it, seeing through the layers straight down to your flesh, to your hard nipples and the wetness between your legs. He raises that infuriating, knowing, eyebrow at you and you roll your eyes.

"'m serious, you gotta keep lookin' or I'm never gonna come," he says then, and you drag your eyes back in an instant. You briefly wonder why - how - he would never come from this until it hits you.

Having a man suck his dick isn't Joel Miller's idea of a good time. Whoever the man on his knees is, he owes Joel. Maybe just like you did, or maybe worse. It doesn't matter, because you're not witnessing a blow job, you're witnessing a fucking business transaction.

And so you laugh - not at Joel, or the man, not really, but at the entire fucked situation and the world that brought you to this place.

"Y'hear that?" Joel growls down at the man. "She's laughin' at you."

Pinching his eyes shut, the man groans, and you swear you can see a dark patch starting to form on the front of his pants. It almost feels wrong, looking at another mans bulge like this when Joel's cock is right there, disappearing in and out of the strangers mouth at a languid pace. You can't even ask his name - his mouth too full to get out more than a garbled moan. Maybe names don't matter either.

Joel's eyes haven't left you, and yours haven't left the thatch of hair at the base of his cock. He's harder now, softness completely gone now that you're here to witness it. Giving and watching a blow job are so much different to what you expected. There's a wet sound in the air, for one. That rhythmic, wet noise of a throat being fucked was usually masked by your own moans, made easy to ignore by the distraction filling your mouth. But here, several steps away, it is loud.

"That's it. Keep your eyes right there," Joel murmurs before pointing to your outer layer. "Unzip your coat, lemme see. Get those pretty tits out for me, sweetheart. Don't mind him. He ain't gonna look. Are you?"

The man groans again, keeping his eyes shut as his head bobs on Joel's cock, taking an impressive amount of him down his throat with each movement. There's a small shake of his head, and while you don't believe him, you find you don't care either. You don't know the man on the floor any more than he knows you, and you have a feeling he's likely to keep his mouth shut once he leaves Joel's apartment today anyway.

A fraction of a second later, you're pulling your jacket open and yanking your sweater up above your tits, baring them to Joel. He murmurs something to himself, fisting his shirt tightly as he holds it up, exposing his belly. It strikes you then how damn distracted you had been every time before now - Joel's fingers, or tongue, or cock working you in such a way that you were brainless and oblivious to the physical affects you had on him. Now, its obvious. Like a man possessed, he watches you with blown eyes, his cock in full hardness now as the man below him works him over with his mouth and tongue.

Dragging cool fingers down your exposed chest, you meet your already pebbled nipples, pinching them and holding back a soft gasp. It's as much for you as it is to get a reaction from Joel, and if he didn't know you were wet before, he does now.

"That's it, play with 'em. And keep watching, sweetheart. Want you to watch when I come down his throat."

It's a struggle to keep your eyes open, but certainly not a chore. The man has picked up his pace, sucking and moaning around Joel's length as he slurps it down. He holds back a splutter when Joel's hips buck forward just as you pinch your nipples harder again, squeezing the flesh of your tits in cold palms.

"Fuuck, that's it, keep watchin'. You like that? Bet you want a taste of this dick too, huh?"

You nod, words stuck in your throat as Joel presses the mans head further into his crotch, rocking his hips to fuck lightly into his mouth.

"You needy and dripping over there ain't you?" he growls. He doesn't wait for you to nod, he doesn't need to. "Yeah you fuckin' are. Dirty fuckin' girl, watching my dick gettin' sucked. You like watching, don't you? Say it. Wanna hear it."

"I like it. I like watching, Joel," you say, barely more than a whisper as you become more and more entranced by Joel's cock in the mans mouth.

"Shit. Keep watchin'. Gonna come. Need you to watch."

It's all you can do to hold back a moan, your panties now probably ruined by your dripping, neglected cunt. This was not what you came here for, but watching Joel mumble obscenities and growl filth to you and the man on his knees as he gets his cock sucked was something you never knew you wanted before now. Sure, you want to touch, to play with him yourself. But watching is getting you wetter and wetter without even a finger or the press of your thighs to help you along the way.

"That's it. You keep suckin'. Fuck. Gonna bet you want this load in you not in him, right?"

Nodding frantically, you move a hand to your waistband, a soft plea on your lips, ready to pull your pants down any second. "Please - "

"Fuck - shit - well too bad, sweetheart. You look at that dick gettin' sucked. Shit - gonna come. Look at me. I said look at me."

Your eyes meet his just as they flutter closed. Joel groans a curse, his balls starting to empty into the throat of the man in front of him until he's suddenly tugging the mans hair, pulling his mouth off of his cock. The man gasps, swallowing down what he can as Joel rapidly strokes his spit soaked length, jerking the remains of his spend over the mans face and mouth. His eyes immediately flick to yours, a soft moan having left your own lips the moment Joel started to come, and he groans again, a final spurt coating the mans chin, soaking his facial hair. It's filthy. Not the most filthy thing you know Joel's done, but the most filthy thing you've ever seen him do from the outside. You can't help but stare on in silence, too captivated by the spurts of milky white dripping over the mans face, his eyes still screwed tight. You're aching and desperate to stick a hand down your pants, to feel how wet you are, to touch your clit and make yourself come as you try to hold yourself upright on shaky legs.

Through syrupy blood pulsing in your ears you hear Joel growl down at the man, removing his hand from his hair like it's burned his palm. Then, he's looking to you again, deep brown eyes searching your own before falling down, down to where your hand cups your breast and your other fists the waistband of your pants in a tight grip. He knows - knows that even if you came here already wet and wanting, you were even more so now.

And it's with a smirk and a sharp snap of his fingers that he pulls you back into the room. The man's eyes are open now, avoiding yours as he wipes cum from his face with his sleeve, covertly licking his lips for any remnant taste of Joel. You can't blame him, fuck knows you'd done the same when Joel had swiped a taste of himself over your own lips, but you can't help the jealousy at wanting to taste again too.

It's then you remember your exposed chest, and you yank your sweater back down without another glance to the man on his knees. Joel shakes his head, a shit eating grin spreading across his face as he strides across the room. He goes to the cupboard where you know he keeps a small amount of his stock, rifling through for a second before coming back with a baggy and tossing it down on the floor at the mans knees. He scrambles for it immediately, climbing to his feet and grabbing the door. Joel doesn't look at him again.

"Say hello to your wife for me," Joel calls over his shoulder, and the man scurries away without a word.

Now it's just you and him, his unbuttoned pants the only remaining evidence of what just happened.

You hesitate, partly in stunned silence, partly your brain having turned to liquid between your ears, all coherent thought lost the moment Joel's cum spurted across the mans face. But there's still that unsatisfied ache between your legs, throbbing and making your hand twitch, willing you to reach for him now that he's so close.

Joel sees it, he knows, knows what you came here for and knows what you won't be getting.

"Not today, sweetheart. Couldn't even if I tried," he says gesturing to his spent already dick tucked back into his pants. "Gotta head out again too, so whatever you got goin' on in those panties, you gotta deal with it yourself." He finishes with a wink and a tap to your chin before grabbing a small gym bag from the couch. You hadn't even seen it there, brain too occupied by more interesting things happening in this room at the time.

So it's no surprise, really, when your mouth starts running before your mind can process what it's doing. There's only one thing you're thinking of. One thing, aside from the throb in your core, that you can't stop thinking about, that envy won't let you give up.

"Would you - " your mouth gapes, opening and closing like a fish while your mind stutters and stops. You shouldn't even ask. There's no answer that can satisfy that particular itch. Not as quickly as you'd want it, at least. If he said yes, he'd already said nothing could happen right now, and if he said no, well... there was something about the thought of him denying you that did something to you too. There was no winning.

"Would I what?"

Of course, Joel had already heard. Even as he potters about the apartment, dumping stuff into the bag from places you've not been paying attention to. He stops, prompting you to go on.

"Would you... Would you come in my mouth like that? One time?"

He stares at you with his mouth open in disbelief. "You want me to come in your mouth?"

You nod, your mouth suddenly so fucking dry you can't speak anymore. You'd been salivating, able to practically taste the phantom flavor of Joel's cum on your tongue just a moment ago. Now, it was like you'd been chewing on bricks, tongue sticky and dry and your teeth feeling like an awkward jumble in your mouth.

"Well, shit. Call the press. Respectable good girl wants to be my little cocksucker -"

"Fine, if you're going to make fun, I don't -"

"Woah, hold on, I'm fuckin' with you. I ain't gonna turn down shutting that pretty mouth up with my dick. Gotta do it more than one time though, sweetheart. You around tomorrow?"

Between jobs and your dad having a day off, it would be a few days before you could come back. Shaking your head, you offer up Thursday instead. It's only three days away. You can make it three more days. Right?

"Thursday works for me. Come by in the afternoon. I'll come in that mouth, and then I'll play with that pussy while I get worked up again," he says before adding, with a cock of his head, "Then I'll come in that too."

And you're dumbstruck - the fantasy you concocted in your own head far surpassed by Joel's own, seemingly thought up right on the spot as he maneuvers you out into the hallway.

"See you then, sweetheart."

He pushes you out of the door, fingers electrified where they touch your shoulder. You expect the door to snap shut behind you, like it has so many times before, but he follows you out into the hallway, locking the door behind him. With a wink, he stalks off down the corridor, legs carrying him out of the apartment block too quick for you to keep up.

Later that night, alone in bed and wondering how the hell you're going to last two more days like this, you rub yourself stupid to thoughts of Joel's cock in a mouth that isn't yours.

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr

[limerence-17]

leave the door open

based on: number 7.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

masterlist

warnings: 18+ mdni p in v (bc mentioned,) explicit language, oral sex (f receiving), fingering

word count: 1.6k

A/N: all characters are 18+ here. obx season 4 didn't have to make rafe this sexy but here we are and i hope u all enjoy <3 also psa yes i know kinktober is over but i feel kinky all year and what about it

i wasn't going to touch myself. in fact i wasn't even thinking about it, and yet here i was about to spend the night at my best friend sarah cameron's house and all i could think about was the way her older brother looked coming into the house after getting off his motorbike. the way his hair swayed as he ran his hands through it, and the way he grunted as he walked by us in the kitchen.

he didn't even make eye contact and yet i couldn't stop myself from staring right at him as he walked by.

but here i was laying in the guest room, in this giant house that i still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that my best friend lived in and all i could think about was god damn rafe cameron.

────── 〔✿〕──────

that night, it was rather warm out, but i was feeling tired, dazed perhaps. sarah had come into my room, told me john b wanted to see her which was predictable as usual and snuck out through the guest room window. she told me she'd be back by 7 am which meant i'd be spending the night on my own. i didn't mind it but it could get lonely.

the sun was setting, and i felt strange spending such a lovely summer evening inside getting ready for bed but i suppose that was alright considering i spent the entire day out and about.

i nustled my legs smoothly against the satin sheets. something about staying at the cameron's house always reminded me of staying in some nice hotel. everything just smelt clean, like oranges and fresh air.

my shorts rode up my ass slightly, but i paid hardly any notice to them. it was so hot out anyway. i turned over, glancing outside the window. it was quiet out, too quiet and yet my mind wandered back to rafe in the kitchen. his hair falling ever so slightly in front of his eyes, the way he smelt. like sea salt and expensive cologne.

i couldn't help but shift my body so that my back laid against the bed, slowly arching my back as my hand glided to my shorts, placing soft slow circles against my clit. slowly, but i applied more pressure the more i circled. i couldn't help but let out a moan and had to cover my. mouth as i continued on. i wanted to take off my shorts as i thought about rafe. his hands, his hair, god his hands.

"holy fuck...rafe..." i moaned out in a hushed whisper.

my eyes kept closed, but my fingers continued to roam beneath the sheets until i heard a creak that was louder than i would've thought. i stopped dead in my tracks, moving both of my hands up over the sheets pulling them up swiftly to my chin.

oh my god it was rafe cameron. standing there with his zip up sweater, and clean cut pants. but the way he looked at me, well i couldn't tell what he was thinking but his eyes were wide. very wide.

"shit i didn't mean-"

"swear to god i wasn't listening or anything," said rafe dumbly. he ran his right hand over his mouth, looking at the ground.

"whatever you think you saw or heard or whatever the fuck you didn't rafe!" i was too embarrassed to muster up anything else. i just held the covers high.

"hey it's no big deal seriously... i mean i jerked one off like six hours ago so like-"

"jesus rafe, i mean it! delete this from your mind or i swear to god i'll-"

"see the thing is i can't really delete that from my mind. you moaning my name and all..." rafe closed the door behind him and took a few steps towards the bed.

"oh fuck you heard that?" i was mortified. just mortified. what was wrong with me?

"now the thing is...you're my sister's best friend so so like... i mean that's kinda fucked up-you thinking about me while you touch yourself and shit," rafe said in a drawl, using his hands to express it. rafe was now sitting at the edge of the bed. his eyes were glancing around quickly, his thoughts clearly racing.

i lowered the sheets but made sure that they were still just above my chest. but holy fuck, i was soaking wet now.

"but hey it makes sense- the way you look at me, always thought it was in my head and shit but-"

"it's not." i interrupt him. the more he looks at me the more i just picture his tongue in my mouth and i'm starting to get needy, my legs are clenching together now.

rafe's eyebrows raised, and he froze for a moment. but then his hands slowly crept up the sheets grabbing my thigh. i gasped feeling his hand there. his eyes widened, watching my expression.

"this what you were thinking about, huh?" his hand crept up agonizingly slow. i couldn't get a word out. just stiffled moans until eventually the sheets were down below my chest.

i let out a longing sigh as i felt his sturdy hand cup my pussy, using his other hand to move the bedsheet off completely, exposing me completely.

he looked up, asking for approval as his hands slowly tugged at the hems of my shorts and i nodded quickly.

"yes rafe."

rafe obliged immediately, pulling my shorts down, i pulled my tank top over my head. my legs lifted in the air as he threw them onto the floor. he slowly separated my legs, ogling at my obviously wet cunt.

he used his middle and ring finger to slowly trace a line up against my folds and i gasped at the touch.

"god damn my sister's best friend is a little slut huh? you're wet as shit and that's all for me huh?"

all i could let out was an innocent "mhmm," since the feeling of his fingers tracing against my folds was driving me lust drunk.

"yeah... i'm gonna need to taste you...." he said, now crouching so that his head was between my thighs.

"wait rafe-" rafe stopped immediately, glancing up at me.

"take off your shirt."

rafe smirked, obliging as he pulled it over his head, and i felt my eyelids grow heavy from lust as i looked at his chest. jesus, he was ridiculously hot. my best friend's ridiculously hot older brother was about to eat me out.

this time, more aggressively he separated my thighs and before i could comprehend it his lips were against my pussy. his tongue moved up and down, circles against my clit. as if it was instinct, i gripped at the bedframe. but it didn't last long as he gripped my hips, pulling me in closer to him. my thighs tightened against his head and it felt insane. i'd never had someone eat me out like this. so hungrily and quickly. he was incredible.

"shit you taste fucking unreal-" he grunted and gasped before licking me once more.

rafe's tongue moved quickly but he pulled away, moving so that he was now on top of me. he made eye contact before inserting a finger into me and i gasped. it was only a few pumps, hard and fast before he pulled out.

"taste yourself-" he said and i obliged, sucking on his finger. rafe licked his teeth, letting out a low hum of a laugh as he watched.

"you are fucking wild-" he said. my hands reached towards his pants and he looked down and then back up at me.

"what- you wanna feel me too?"

"rafe i wanna feel all of you- i want you inside me."

that set him off and he quickly reached to his pants, pulling them down along with his briefs. he was hung, like way more than i ever would've imagined. and hard too.

"looks like i'm not the only one whose this turned on either huh?"

rafe let out a sarcastic laugh "ha...ha...."

he got on top once more, this time pinning my legs higher in the air.

"yeah fuck i need to see all of you when i fuck you," rafe commanded.

"you're on that girl pill or whatever it is right?" rafe asked. i let out a quiet snicker.

"birth control, rafe? yeah i am," i said running my hands through my hair.

rafe nodded quickly, obviously thankful since it was clear neither of us brought condoms.

he positioned himself so that his tip was directly against my folds and then slowly pushed himself into me. i gasped, immediately reaching my fingernails against his back.

rafe grunted as his pumps started slow, but eventually quickened up. he moved quickly, thrusting and grunting into me. i let out stifled moans and he clasped his hand over my mouth.

"hey...hey... you've gotta be more... quiet than that... holy....fuck" rafe moaned between thrusts.

his paced quickened, his strong arms now moving to my waist as he pulled me to the edge of the bed. he thrusted deafening quick and i clenched my fist placing it against my mouth in a stupid attempt to silence myself. he was too fucking good at this. too strong, too fast, too fucking hot.

"don't stop! rafe jesus i'm gonna cum!"

"shit... me fucking too..."

it only took a few more thrusts before i let out a stiffled sigh and rafe collapsed, falling on top of me. both of us sweating, exhaling and my hands running through his hair.

he pulled away, laying beside me. i turned over to meet his gaze, my hands still running through his hair. he looked back at me.

"alright round two-"

[forusomimiya]

hi love, so there is this *thirst* came to my mind and had to share with you obv if you are uncomfy with that you can just delete this ask

But osamu… osamu with beefy arms that can put reader on top of the counter of their house… he won’t do that in onigiri miya because it is more ‘violation of regulations’ etc. and he can just grind up to her.. yk bc he can reach there,, and he would spill filthy thoughts in her ear, maybe nibble on her neck, leave her hot and needy, then he’d just pretend he didn’t do it at all,, and continue what he was doing, just to see her blown irises, needy breaths and maybe even some begging too

Bc for sure osamu does love when reader begs for his attention

"Samu!" His beefy arms carry you in a jiffy to the kitchen counter, where he sits you down and spreads, without a hint of kindness, your legs to get between them, leaning over the edge of the marble, waiting for an explanation for something that even you can't explain. "What's wrong?" his eyes dive to your underwear and back to you.

Oh, right. You forgot you were home alone and opted to use your new outfit for the first time. You wanted it to be a surprise for Osamu but well, since he's already ruined it, what less than enjoy what may be to come.

"I like your new buy" his eyes roam over your skin, lingering on the blush beginning to grow on your cheeks, before studying your lips, separating to let the air escape. "I thought you'd wear it for a special occasion."

“Yeaah, umm…” not a stupid word you can spit out. So confident that you can take control of the situation, that when the man's body in front of you makes you shiver, you can only babble.

"Umm? Are you getting jumpy, kitty?" his calloused fingers caress your cheek, and as time passes, your heart beats faster. It makes no sense sticking to the wall to get space between both, ‘cause Osamu will drag you to the edge and have no shame in rubbing your crotch against yours. "You don't have to, babe. I'm just surprised you didn't welcome me properly."

You can't help but nibble on your lip as he impulses you to tilt his head to access your neck, staying there, just inches from your skin, just enough to make it bristle as he speaks into your ear.

"Don’t know whether to teach you a lesson or let you to ruin me" you gulp and think about how to reduce your heartbeat as your eyes point to his arms, focusing on his biceps, and how a thread of veins grows from his forearm and down to the back of his hand, which you don't know when or how it has reached your thigh. "I really miss being down here so much, between these soft thighs..." a small nibble on your neck startles you, giving Osamu what he wanted to hear: a howl and his name uttered in a whimper. He smiles as he watches you grind towards him indiscreetly. "You want me? Is that it?" you nod ashamed.

Both hands have flown to your waist to pull you closer to him, handling you so easily under his grip that you can't help but let yourself go, something he's no longer even surprised by, seeing how easily you melt at his dirty words sung in your ear. He lets you grind a little more next to him before put a delicate kiss on your shoulder and pulling away from you to go back to what he was doing, with a prominent erection under his pants. You open your eyes realising that your body is missing two large hands on your waist, a six foot tall muscular built man between your legs with his warm breath giving you goosebumps and leaving you on the verge of reach an orgasm without being touched.

"Wanna eat something?" he asks looking at you as if nothing has happened, as if you weren't still on the counter, gasping, burning with your eyes his fucking body and that fucking erection that makes you drool inside. Hundred of questions roam through your head, but you only want one answered.

"Are you gonna fuck me?" Osamu sets the rice packet aside and turns to you, arms crossed, watching as you still look for a little friction on the counter.

"You really want it?" you nod and, by the size of his pupils, you know that he would also do his best to fuck you right there, without worrying about rules because that's not Onigiri Miya and he doesn't have to worry about to not violating the rules of the shop for putting you against the table and fucking you hard for a while. "Well.. keep begging and maybe I'll give you what you want"

[sjsmith56]

Bucky Barnes, Deadpool and the TVA (or How I ended up inside the fourth wall)

Summary: A Bucky Barnes fanfiction writer finds herself in the same universe as the Thunderbolts* Bucky when she wakes up in his bed.

Length: 4.1 K

Characters: Unnamed and undescribed OFC, Bucky Barnes, Dr. Strange, Wong, B-15, variant of OFC, OMC (OFC’s husband)

Warnings: some sexual innuendo, naked horny Bucky, no smut (sorry)

Author notes: Just a silly story that I pulled from somewhere in my mind. The part about the OFC and her husband seeing the new Deadpool movie at a matinee was based on real life.

💻 🦾 🛵

The blank page stared at me.  It wasn't blank five minutes ago, but I read what I wrote, and didn't like it, so I deleted it and then I was looking at the page again.  We met before, you, the reader and me, the writer.  I sought help from the very reason I write, Bucky Barnes.  The writing gods first sent me World War II Bucky, a sweet flirty guy who was still interested in the stories I wrote.  The version that appeared to me was from before Azzano and before the train; that dreadful transport of death that changed his whole life in a moment.  Then they sent me the Winter Soldier, the dark brooding villain ... I know, he was more than that, but that was HYDRAs use of him.  He was their Fist, brutally carrying out assassinations on targets they assigned him.  Relentless and frightening in his attention to his task he was still a sight to see; that tall, dark-haired muscular menace and the way he strutted towards his target.  No hesitation, no regrets and totally the object of many fantasies.  I still got warm thinking about the ones I read about, never mind wrote.  On that day, it was Falcon and the Winter Soldier (FATWS) Bucky who came to my rescue.  It was him as he was portrayed at the end of the series, seemingly in a place where he felt at home in Delacroix, becoming part of Sam Wilson's family as their adopted uncle.  That Bucky sat with me, helped me through my writer's block, and even gave me an idea for a Black Widow smut piece that was a gift to my husband.  Before he left, he said he would always be there for me.  At the time, he probably meant it.  Then there was a disturbance in the Force.

Wrong franchise, I know, but how else to explain how things seemed to go a bit sideways?  There were the What If? episodes, that displayed Bucky as the sidekick to Captain Carter.  Those was okay, then he was more of the dark brooding long-hair version of Wakanda Bucky in a zombie wasteland.  At least we got to see a cartoon version of him in the shower, from the waist up.  Wasn't quite enough to quench the fandom's thirst for him but it was a start.  Don't even get me started on the Guardians of the Galaxy Christmas special where Nebula appeared with Bucky's vibranium arm, opening a whole can of worms over whether it was funny (not to me), cute (seriously stealing Bucky's arm is cute?) and canon (no, James Gunn, it wasn't canon to me).  Yes, I'm changing the tense in the middle of a paragraph by telling you to don't @ me if you're a believer in any of the three above.  To me, all three of those scenarios were just wrong.  I got emotional then and I still do.

I wrote since then, some AUs, lots of one shots as I explored that format, several short fiction pieces of less than 50,000 words, and a couple of long ones.  It was going well, then they brought out the Captain America 4 announcement that Bucky wouldn't be in it (what?) and the Thunderbolts* announcement that Sam Wilson wouldn't be in that (seriously?).  Why did they get us to invest our time and interest in a six-part series about these two men forging a deep friendship if they had no intention of continuing it in their movies?  The rumours about Bucky in this upcoming movie littered the pages of tumblr and Twitter (sorry / not sorry X); things like Bucky regressed mentally and emotionally, he and Sam had a falling out, he became a congressman, or he went to work for Val de Fontaine so that he didn't lose his pardon. 

Why would they do that to Bucky?  Let the man have a fucking life.  As you could see I got emotional about it.  On that particular day I decided to have a nap and clear my mind, then it all changed.

💤

"Hey, sweetheart."  I could hear the voice, then I felt a cold hand around my waist, reaching up under my T-shirt.  Jerking away and turning around I found myself in bed with Bucky Barnes, beefy Bucky, with the bad haircut shown in the leaked preview of the Thunderbolts*.   "There she is."

He had no shirt on, and I found it hard to look at him, then opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out.  I noticed the smirk on his face, which made me feel warm, like really warm, the way the writers of Bucky smut describe it; a warm pool forming in my core, between my thighs, deep in my ....  What happened to me?  Where was I?

"You okay, doll?  You have a nightmare?"  His hand cupped my jaw, as he rubbed his thumb on my cheek.

"You're Bucky," I said, still frozen in place, because let's face it, it's not everyday you find yourself in bed with your romantic fantasy.

"Last I checked," he answered, licking his lips then running his hand over the beard he grew since he was in FATWS.  "You're my wife."

I pulled away from him, aware that he might not have anything on at all.  He looked at me funny.

"You seem different.  Tell me you're not a multiverse version of you that's been dropped here."

"I don't know," I answered, pulling the sheet up to cover my front since I realized I wasn't wearing a bra, and my nipples were doing something that was a little disconcerting.  "Am I a writer?  Are we married?  Are you working for Val de Fontaine?"

He laughed, showing those beautiful white teeth, then he leaned close, gently pulling down the sheet and began to nuzzle my neck, making me feel all sorts of things.

"No, yes, and no," he answered.  "Come here."

I pulled away so far that I fell out of bed and sat there on the floor with him looking over the edge at me with a decidedly perturbed expression on his face.  With only panties on underneath that T-shirt I pulled on the sheet, so I was covered again.

"What's got into you?"

"What's my name, Bucky?"

"Sweetheart, sunshine, baby girl, darlin' and my personal favourite, doll."  He was resting his head on his hands, looking at me in a way that was definitely more friendly than I was comfortable with.

"Those aren't names, they're terms of endearment," I answered.  "I am married but not to you and you're supposed to be an Avenger, with Sam Wilson."

"Really, just who are you married to and what is your name?" he asked, in a flirting manner.  "Gotta say, sunshine, this role-playing thing could be fun."

I told him my husband's name and my name.  "I shouldn't be part of the multiverse because it's not real.  It's fiction."

He laughed, then saw I wasn't laughing and frowned.  Angry Bucky alert.  "You have to be from the multiverse.  If you're not, where's my wife?  Why do you look and sound like her?"

I raised my hands up.  "I don't know where she is.  I look like her because I write fanfiction of you, and I picture myself in the original female character's role.  She usually becomes your love interest.  But I had writer's block because Marvel has been messing around with your portrayal and not giving out much information of how they've changed your character.  It was bugging me, so I took a nap, then woke up next to you."

"Who's this Marvel guy?  Do you think he knows where my wife is?"

He didn't know about the fourth wall, was definitely angry and all I could think of was that he looked just as angry now as he did in that leaked Thunderbolts* footage.

"Marvel's not a guy, it's a corporation that owns the copyright to your character."  I winced as I explained it to him, knowing he wasn't liking it.  "You're not real, Bucky.  You're a fictional character from the comics and the movies they made from it.  But you know this already.  I've spoken to you in your World War II persona, your Winter Soldier persona and from when you and Sam fought the Flag Smashers.  That's called your FATWS era."

I started to explain what the letters meant but he just glared at me, so I stopped.  He pulled away from the edge of the bed and got out on the other side, naked, and I did stare, I'll admit it.  God, he had a nice ass and the rest of him from the back was... wow.  Then he turned to face me, and I looked everywhere but there. 

"Get dressed," he ordered.  "You're taking me to this Marvel place and I'm going to get my wife back."

"It's not as easy as that," I replied.  He stared at me, his arms crossed defiantly in front of him while he was still showing everything the serum gave him.  I focused on his face, but it was so hard ... not that, you know what I mean.  "If this is a multiverse incursion then there might not be a Marvel in this universe and even if there was it wouldn't be possible to just walk in there.  We have to find Dr. Strange.  He's the only one who can do anything."

"Fine," he said, "but you're still coming with me.  Now get dressed."

Holding the sheet around me I approached the walk-in closet, but he was still standing there, naked, in all of his glory and he smelled so good when I slid past him to see what was available for me to wear.  Then he was right behind me, practically pressing himself into me and I had to focus, wondering if I had ever written this much raw physical sexuality into my versions of Bucky but it was difficult to concentrate with him so close. 

"You having problems, baby girl?" he asked, his lips so close to my ear that I could feel his warm breath making me moist. 

"I don't know what to wear," I mumbled, still painfully aware of his naked body this close to me and I was really only separated from him by a sheet. 

"We're going on the motorcycle," he said.  "Jeans, T-shirts, and leather jackets."

"Right," I answered, hastily going through the sexy dresses, the long gowns with the thigh-high slits, the almost obscene lingerie, but there were no jeans or T-shirts.  "Um, where are they?"

"In the drawers," he grunted.  "Don't you have drawers in your universe?"

"Yes," I snapped.  "Could you stand further away from me?"

"What's the matter, darlin'? Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"This close to me while naked, yes."  I rolled my eyes, which he must have heard because he huffed, but he did move away, and I was able to get out of that small space.

Quickly, I located the drawer that had jeans and pulled them on.  They were tighter than anything I ever wore but somehow, I got them on.  The bra selection left a lot to be desired as most of it was see through and really didn't offer much support.  I must have made a noise while I was searching for something more modest because he was suddenly beside me.

"Having a problem, sweetheart?  Don't see anything you like?  My wife loves all the lingerie I buy for her."

"It's not my style," I answered.  "Doesn't she have something that covers more?"

"Sports bra," he answered.  "Bottom drawer."

I pulled it open, thankful to find an assortment of sports bras.  Pulling one out I started to take the T-shirt off that I woke up in then became aware of his eyes on me.  Turning around I was startled to see him reclining on the bed, propped up on one elbow, fully clothed, with his booted feet hanging off the bed.

"Do you mind?"

"No, I don't mind at all," he smirked.  "Don't let me stop you.  I've seen it all anyways."

"But you're married.  Wouldn't watching me get dressed make your wife angry?"

He grinned in an almost wolfish manner.  "We have an understanding."

"What?  The Bucky's I write are monogamous.  Are you polyamorous?"

The grin became a broad smile as he looked me up and down.  "If the occasion arises.  Gotta say I'm curious to see if you have the same appetites as my doll."

"Out!"  I wasn't in the mood for this.  "Right now.  Go downstairs and get your motorcycle ready."

Slowly, he slid off the bed, then approached me, backing me up to the dresser, while looking at me in a way that gave me thrills at the same time as setting off all sorts of warning bells in my head.

"You sure, sunshine?"  His fingertips grasped a tendril of my hair, as he twirled it slightly.  "I could definitely make you ...."

"Out," I repeated.  "Please stop this."

He backed up, suddenly respectful of my space.  "Since you said the magic word, I'll wait downstairs for you."

Just like that, he was gone, and I quickly got the sports bra on, then a clean T-shirt.  I pulled on some socks and found some boots, sliding them on.  With a quick run through of my hair with my fingers I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, wondering what I had done to get into this predicament.

He was waiting on his motorcycle for me, with a helmet in hand.  As I stood there, he placed it on my head, adjusting the chin strap then nodding his head in approval, before putting his on.  I slid on behind him, grasping him at the waist.  His voice came over a Bluetooth speaker in the helmet.

"You okay, darlin'?  Have you ridden a motorcycle before?"

"I'm good.  My husband has one and I've ridden with him.  Where are we going?"

"The Sanctum Sanctorum," he said.  "Might as well go straight to Dr. Strange."

Suddenly, we were there, pulling up to an open parking spot in front of the headquarters of the Masters of the Mythical Arts in the middle of Greenwich Village.  This was definitely a unique universe, as we skipped over the long motorcycle ride from Brooklyn, then the frustration of finding any sort of parking.  Striding over to the door, Bucky rang the bell, and we were ushered in by an acolyte to where Dr. Strange was drinking a cup of tea and Wong was standing there wringing his hands.  Before we could even say anything the two men looked at me, then at each other, then at Bucky.

"Where did you find her?" asked Wong.

That wolfish grin briefly appeared again on Bucky's face.  "In my bed.  Says she's not my wife, so where is she?"

"That is a good question," said Strange, placing his teacup on the table and approaching me, assessing me in a way that was a little disturbing.  "Well, this explains a lot.  You're from the real world, aren't you?  Beyond the fourth wall."

"Yes, I guess.  I'm a fanfiction writer and was taking a nap.  When I woke up it was next to him."  I pointed at Bucky.  "The thing is, he's nothing like the Bucky Barnes character that I write about."

"What's different about him?" Strange's one eyebrow was higher than the other.  It was one thing seeing it in the movies but another thing seeing it in person.  "Is there a problem with my face?"

"No, no.  The biggest difference is that the Bucky's I write are monogamous and this one is polyamorous."

"And?  That's a problem?"

I became aware that I was in the middle of all three men, and they were looking at me as if I were lunch, served on a platter just for them.

"Stop!" I barked.  "Yeah, it's a problem, okay?  Is this a polyamorous universe?  Because I'm not!  I'm married to one man, and I want to go back to him.  Please, you must find a way to get me back to where I belong."

Wong backed away from me first.  "She's right.  Consent is still required in this universe.  Plus, with her being from beyond the fourth wall we could really hurt her.  She's actual flesh and blood ... we're fictional characters."

Dr. Strange backed away, returning to his cup of tea.  Bucky, well, he just sprawled on a couch as if he had always lived there.

"Tell me about what you were doing before you slept," said Strange.

I told him about the physical changes to Bucky's appearance based on the leaked preview of Thunderbolts* and how the fandom was worrying about his portrayal, and the fact that after a six part series of him and Sam becoming friends Marvel just casually split them apart into two different movies as if the other didn't even exist. 

"You care about him," said Strange, his voice neutral.  "You want him to be happy."

"Well, yeah," I replied.  "The man lost everything that mattered to him and was tortured for 70 years, experimented on, and forced to become a killer for a gang of authoritarian thugs.  My thing, my contribution to fanfiction is that Bucky gets a happy ending."

"Sweetheart, I have that," said the super soldier, from where he sat on the couch.  "I admit that I am fucked up, but my wife makes me happy and her interest in our extramarital activities is the same as mine.  Yet, you treat me like I'm some sort of deviant."

"No, it's not that."  I sighed.  "Other writers see you in this way and that's fine; that's their thing and lots of people read them and enjoy them but I guess I just like you better when you're monogamous, kind and gentle.  To someone like me, this version of you is a bit scary and overwhelming."

"That's fair," he murmured.  "You look like my wife.  Does your husband look like me?"

"No, not at all," I smiled.  "He's shorter, balding, not as fit.  But he loves me and he's faithful, kind, and gentle.  He beta reads my stories, and I even wrote a Black Widow smut piece just for him.  I think he imagines me as his Black Widow sometimes."

Bucky grinned, then nodded his head approvingly. 

"Do they break the fourth wall in this Thunderbolts* movie?" asked Wong.

"I don't know.  It hasn't come out yet and there's been very few previews of it.  I think the only Marvel character that breaks the fourth wall is Deadpool.  His movie with Wolverine just came out recently and is making a ton of money."

Both Dr. Strange and Wong perked up.  "Deadpool?  As in Wade Wilson?"

I nodded.  "Yeah, he's fully aware in the movies and comic books that he's fictional.  He often breaks the fourth wall."

My voice tapered off.  Was I here because of Deadpool?

"Sunshine, have you seen the movie?" Bucky was also sitting upright.

I nodded my head.  "My husband and I went to see the matinee just a few days ago."

A green glow emanated from the time stone as Dr. Strange went to wherever he went when he activated it.  Wong watched him carefully as did Bucky.  Then the Supreme Sorcerer stopped his permutations and gazed at me.

"The Time Variance Authority are in this movie," he stated.  "I have a feeling they're involved in this.  But why they would take someone from the real world and place them here is a mystery to me."

Suddenly a TVA portal opened in front of us, and B-15 walked out followed by me, at least a version of me, wearing only a T-shirt and panties.  Bucky jumped up from the couch.

"Doll? Is it you?"

"Oh Daddy, I was so afraid," she cried, as he wrapped his arms around her.  "I woke up in a cell and didn't know how I got there, and ...."  She noticed me.  "She's me."

"I'm sorry," said B-15, looking at me.  "A terrible mistake was made.  Beyond the fourth wall is usually forbidden to our hunters but when you went to see the Deadpool movie your presence was noticed in the theatre with your Bucky variant."

"Wait, my husband is a Bucky variant?"

The leader of the TVA smiled.  "Well, yes.  It's why you write Bucky Barnes fanfiction.  You see him as Bucky and yourself as the original female character.  You don't have to look alike to be a variant.  It's just that you're kind of the model for the OFC in your own universe where you draw your inspiration from.  It's supposed to be a private universe and off limits to the TVA.  Unfortunately, one of our hunters didn't understand that.  He removed Mrs. Barnes here as an illegal variant and installed you as the original in this universe.  He has been sent for judgement and won't be in a position to do that again.  We are also making sure all of our hunters are aware that the Bucky Barnes fanfiction that you write and read in your own private universe is just that, private, at least to us."

"So how do we get this Mrs. Barnes back to her universe beyond the fourth wall?" asked Dr. Strange.  "I have the feeling it's beyond my capabilities."

B-15 smiled at him.  "It is but not beyond mine.  As soon as she's ready to go I'll open a portal back to her universe."

It sounded simple and like many movies, a little bit of a quick fix, but I wanted to go back so I wasn't going to question it.  Wong smiled at me.

"Good luck on the next one shot," he said.

I nodded at him, then Dr. Strange looked at me in that superior way he sometimes had.  "I knew there would be a logical solution."

"Right."

Bucky was next, his wife already wearing his leather jacket.

"Oh, this is yours," I said, starting to take the one I had off. 

"Keep it sweetheart, as a souvenir," he smirked.  "Say hi to your husband for me.  Tell me something.  The lady there said something about the fiction you read.  Does that mean you do read the polyamorous stuff, since you ended up in my bed?"

I sighed as I hated being put in a position of agreeing.  "Every so often one captures my eye," I admitted.  "Doesn't mean it's something I'm interested in trying."

"If you say so."  He glanced at his wife with affection.  "You came through for me.  I appreciate it."

I looked at B-15.  "I'm ready."

She nodded at the others, then punched a few buttons on her TemPad.  A portal opened and I walked through it, then felt the touch of my husband's hand on my shoulder as I was still on top of the bed.

"Honey?  Wake up."

I sat up, saw my husband, and felt a rush of affection for him.

"Sorry, I took a nap, and I guess I was more tired than what I thought."

"No worries," he smiled.  "Um, did you go shopping today?  Is that a new jacket and jeans and boots?"

I was still in the other Mrs. Barnes' clothing.

"Yes?" I answered, tentatively.

He smiled and nodded his head appreciatively.  "I like them.  Makes you look hot.  You should wear stuff like that more often."  Offering me his hand, he helped me up.  "What do you think of taking a ride on the bike and going to a diner for dinner?  My treat."

"Sounds like a plan," I answered.  "Just let me freshen up a little."

When I got outside my husband was already waiting on his Vespa.  I know what you're thinking ... a Vespa is not a motorcycle.  Maybe not in the traditional sense but it is what we have and it's a lot of fun.  I still get to wrap my arms around my husband's waist and maybe he doesn't have a hard body like Bucky Barnes, but he's all mine and I don't have to share him with anyone.  Besides, now that I know he's a Bucky variant I understand how he knows what I like between the sheets, if you get what I mean.  When I do write smut, I'm writing about my Bucky, the one I live with in this universe, beyond the fourth wall.

One Shots Masterlist

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[corkinavoid]

Fiance to a Star News

I have given up on trying to force myself to keep working on it. But, hold on, it doesn't mean I'm abandoning it.

I'm looking for a beta/editor/co-author, I'm really not sure what to call it. Let me explain this a bit.

[Update: help found! Thank you!]

I've written that fic in its entirety almost six months ago, in my native language. Then, when I decided to post it, I ran it all through Google Translate. Which is great at translating things word for word in their literal meaning, but not great for sentence structure, idioms, and some minor grammar mishaps. So, since I've posted the first chapter, I've been tideously going through every sentence and either correcting or rewriting it while keeping the meaning.

I am now in the middle of chapter four, and I'm officially so done with it that I'm starting to think about just deleting it all. Which would be a great waste since I do still love that fic.

So I'm looking for someone to help me out here.

More explanations and stuff under the cut.

Let me first show you what I mean by helping me out:

Example of what the text is now:

Tim is silent for a while. The prospects are clearly not rosy, and he, to be honest, doesn’t really understand what to do next. Until now, all he had thought about was how to get out of here, so now that that possibility was gone, he just...

While it is understandable enough, it is not exactly good sentence-structure and grammar wise. Also, it's as plain as white bread.

Example of what the text should (to my best abilities) look like:

Tim pauses, taken aback. The situation does not look very promising, and, if he is being honest, he has no idea of what to do now. Until this moment, all he had thought about was how to get out of the woods. But now that it was not happening and the last chances of escape have all slipped through his fingers, he just...

You see what I mean?

It's extra confusing for myself since when I see the unedited text, my brain automatically reads it in another language and making myself switch manually is draining as fuck, and I'm at my limit.

There's also the issue of some names that translated wrong/did not translate properly/translated as a wrong word. For example, the head of the Academy would be called Headmaster in English, but it translated to Director, or the fact Google Translate keeps translating Sam's pronouns to he/him for some unknown reason, and many more little details.

So I desperately need help.

Perks: co-authoring, access to all the chapters, naturally, as well as all the random notes, pieces of lore that I have, but that have not made it into the fic, any question regarding the fic answered, random thoughts, permission to rewrite literally anything how you see fit (while keeping the general line of plot). Is it co-authoring or adoption at this point? I have no idea, really, but whatever you prefer.

If you're interested, just message me for any other details <3

P.S. Please understand that there are 10 (maybe 9.5) chapters to be edited. And also that I will be giving you a sort of test piece of text to try it out. If, at any point later, you decide it's not your cup of tea anymore, that's totally fine, I'll understand. I just really, really want to post this fic, but I don't want to throw the plain unedited version there.

Thanks in advance!

[gemglyph]

I’ll give you all some advice, but first let’s take a walk together through some of my life.

I have some family that was killed in the Holocaust. I did not learn this until recently, but in retrospect I probably should have known.

What I had learned (when I was “old enough” and it was therefore deemed okay to talk about) was that my ashkenazi family narrowly avoided being slaughtered in the Holocaust by escaping to the US before the US closed its borders to jewish refugees.

I have always known since I was little that some of my family are jews from Sicily. They avoided pogroms (jew hunts) by hiding that they’re jewish. This part of my family immigrated (probably actually fled) to the US prior to WWII (or WWI, my family bickers about this. We don’t have records, I guess).

In both instances, they have to hide who they are to protect themselves.

Life happens, jews persist, I’m born.

Elementary school, I’m told by my family I can’t talk about my home life at school. I’m singled out by my peers and bullied for being different. I move states. Go to an entirely different elementary school. I’m singled out and bullied for being different. Jewish. Kids know this word, I know this word, it’s the 2000s, people use jew as a slur. You know that they mean it that way. Because they say it like it’s wrong.

Middle school, I only fit in with the “weird kids”. I have maybe 5 friends.

One of my friends mom is obsessed with taking me to church if I were to attend a sleepover. When I stop spending time over there because she made me uncomfortable, two of my friends confess they’re only around me because they’re trying to convert me to catholicism.

I have 3 friends.

One of my friends say they can’t be around me because it gets them bullied for associating with a jew.

I have 2 friends.

One of my friends moves away.

I have 1 friend.

It takes me being in high school for two years before I actually make any new friends. Some online, some in person. I find a couple more people I connect with and call my friends. I don’t fit in with the rest of my classmates. I’m aggressively bullied by two different groups of classmates. Jew is still used as a slur. People yell “Heil Hitler” at me in the hallway. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve actually seen the Nazi salute in person.

Because “I look jewish enough, people can just tell. It’s a joke”.

Is it? Is it a joke?

2016. I just graduated highschool and I’m in my first week of my first semester of community college. I’m stalked to my car after night class and basically pinned between my car and a big truck. He grabbed my hair and hit my head against my car. This extremely tall man tells me he should beat me to death right now because I’m a disgusting jew. I believe he will.

I’m saved by a stranger who pulls up and makes the man uncomfortable enough that he leaves. In the large truck that had been parked next to me.

I had nothing on me that is “visibly jewish”. He followed me because I look jewish enough to torment. Because I am.

I hate myself for months because I froze. I start paranoia carrying concealed knives and pray I don’t have to use them. I obsess over learning self defense. I’m disabled and not sure I’d actually be able to protect myself. I learn anyway.

2017. I drop out of community college for a few different reasons. I’m stalked on social media. I delete a lot of my accounts.

I find a job. I’m harassed every shift for six months by a supervisor who said he was happy his family was Nazis in Germany. Among many, many other things. Such as gas chamber “jokes”. My manager tells me it was a joke and to not take it too seriously.

I was working at Starbucks.

2018. I’m told that my grandma dying is a good thing because there’s “one less jew in this world”. My grandma was buried in a grave at a local christian church that she attended most her life because that was the only community she had. We never said anything to anyone (it wasn’t safe). This was supposed to be a family friend. This is my grandma’s funeral.

Later I find out that someone stole the things we left at her grave.

2020. I’m working as a pharmacy technician. My coworkers find out I’m jewish and tell me “not to wear anything that could show that because the area isn’t safe” for me. Because I’m jewish.

I stay at this job for a year before returning to school.

2021. I don’t tell anyone, people guess because I “look jewish” and ask me based on appearance. I have found a more accepting community, but I don’t share much. I’ve learned better.

2022. I make it to University. I don’t talk much to classmates, but I make friends.

2023. I talk about religion with a friend at school, they find out I’m jewish. Some people start avoiding me after October. I have said nothing other than mentioning I’m jewish.

2024. I am told, to my face, by a college student, that jews control the United States government, the media, and Hollywood. Citing a major conspiracy theorist. When prompted to consider his sources, he tells me I’m only saying that because I’m jewish.

This list is not exhaustive, but it is exhausting. I’ve faced this shit my entire life and I’m not alone. My story isn’t unique.

It’s nearing the end of 2024. There has been a huge rise in antisemitism/bigotry over the past year. People are doing the same things they have always done. Tormenting jewish people, calling us slurs, telling us to kill ourselves. The list goes on.

The Nazis came for the jews first. Our neighbors turned on us. Other marginalized people we hoped we could rely on threw us out hoping to save themselves. Only for the Nazis to come for them.

First they came for us jews.

They will come for you.

Do something about it.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA - me and my bestfriend (bsf) of six years recently got into a 2 week long argument and at this point have stopped talking. First i need to provide some back ground of the situation. Last November i became friends with “J”. This itself caused some arguments because they have similar names and sometimes i’d slip and call bsf, J, on accident and would immediately apologize. After a couple times of this happening she got really upset but i explained i’d been doing the same to J and she seemed to be less upset about it.

In the beginning of January, J and her bestfriend “E” got into some pretty serious drama where information from both sides never matched up but i’d known and used to be friends with E for a while. He is not a great guy speaking from past experience. (he constantly talks about how he’s a narcissist very proudly) He was claiming they had slept together and was telling all of his friends about it. She was saying they hadn’t. These rumors had been going around for months about them but had died down until this. the problem is i believed J but bsf was close with E and sided with him. I’d like to make a note through this entire situation neither me or bsf played any roll in it to my knowledge. this was just between E and J. Later on i found out they had slept together from J and asked why she had said they hadnt she said it was an agreement between the two of them that they wouldn’t say anything to anyone else because of the rumors people were already spreading about them being together. But once she found out it was definitely him telling people this time she told me the truth. yeah they had slept together then he forced her to take a plan B even though he knew she was on birth control and they’d used a condom. then ghosted her and pretended not to know her when asked by Js twins sisters best-friend.

Now it’s about 3 weeks ago where i posted two separate story’s saying how much i loved J and her sister and the other about how much i love bsf. about 10 minutes later bsf texted me “just delete this.” i of course asked why but she never responded so i took it down like she asked. later that day she reply’s to a text i had sent her the day before saying “nothing much just wishing i was hanging out with you” she replied “right.” at this point i’m genuinely confused what’s happening i had a feeling it was about J somehow because every time i posted about J it would be the one thing she didn’t like or comment on and she would get annoyed when i’d mention some thing me and J had done recently. i immediately replied with “of course, i love hanging out with you. your my best friend” A couple hours later she send me a three paragraph message saying how she didn’t think that anymore because i was ignoring everything she was telling me about what E was saying. That i was only taking J’s side and always talking about what J was saying about her side. She said I was using her as a separate option that if J couldn’t hang out i would call her. etc at the end of the message she told me she would never make me choose but that she will never trust anything J says. (they’ve literally never met or talked the only thing she hears about J is through E or me) she ends it with do whatever you want to do but don’t do anything for me. keep being friends with her idk i’m keeping my distance from all that. I replied with a message basically saying that she wasn’t the second option, i wasn’t sure who to trust, and that i try to avoid talking about the situation with J. we go back and forth with her apologizing for how she’s acting then getting mad about me not just believing her over everything else i’m being told. Then she tried to claim she never said J was wrong but that she knows she’s lied to me (the thing i mentioned in the first paragraph is the only time she’s lied to me) that she never picked a side and that she can’t believe how hurt she feels when “i’m supposed to be her bestfriend” i brought up the fact that i had asked her more than once if me being friends with her bothered her and she always said no. That this wouldn’t have exploded like this if we could have talked it out before. she took that as me saying this was all her fault.

A couple days later she messages me asking to talk in person i say when and where but she just send me a message about her feelings anyways again apologizing for how she’s acting and that she felt i wasn’t listening to her but it hurt more to lose me etc but continuing to say she doesn’t think i should be friends with J but it’s my choice. I reply i was listening but i think we were both just trying to find the facts in a situation we will never really know who was lying 100%. but i made a point in the massage to say i wasn’t going to stop being friends with J and that i didn’t understand why me and bsf relationship was so affected by me and J’s. She gets mad again bringing up a hate account that was made claiming J had made it but J had shown me that she hadn’t and it was investigated by our school who also said she didn’t do it. that it was my choice to be friends with her but that i don’t understand how it’s affecting her and that it wasn’t fair. at this point i was really mad because it really felt like she was trying to force me to choose between them two in a way. i replied saying she hadn’t made the account and said i don’t think J is the reason we stopped talking and that i feel like she was making me choose even though she was saying she wasn’t. she then replied saying she didn’t make me choose but that i had chose J over her and “that i guess you though she needed more attention” (yeah maybe because J is not mentally handling this well at all and your fine because your not actually involved with this drama) i didn’t reply to her but about another week later i texted her “i just want to be friends with both of you. why can’t i do that” she replied i understand but i don’t think you should be friends with she’s not a good person but hope your having fun it’s all i wanted for you. that’s the end of the messages at this point.

TLDR : (do we do those here??) bestfriend of three years stopped talking to me because i became friends with another girl who later got into drama with best friends close friend E (A PROUDLY SELF PROCLAIMED NARCISSIST I MIGHT ADD)

What are these acronyms?

[pappydaddy]

sorry about the shirt (f.w.)

a/n: now that i named this fic this, now i have an idea for another fic with this as a prompt.... ugh my mind, curse my cognition! also, i have deleted this and reformatted this like six times and the title is still not saving as a god-damn title anymore. ugh. tumblr (pls don't shadowban me again)

tv show/movie: harry potter | pairing: fred weasley x fem!hufflepuff!reader

requested by the lovely @readingfan  (hope you enjoy it💛!) | my little pea-sized, fred-lane brain made this a fred x reader without me realizing it until seconds before posting this

synopsis: fred and george getting a summer job in a coffee shop where a pretty girl frequents. said pretty girl seems to have fred in a trance. what could possibly go wrong? well, fred knows what could now that an innocent shirt has been ruined.

taglist: @frederickandgeorge-weasley | @lilypad-55449 | @popeheywardssecretgf | @eichenhouseproperty | @slytherinambitious | @onyourgoddamnleft *line through you user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: reader is described to wear sundresses | mentioned of negative thoughts about oneself (reader has negative thoughts about herself) | fred and george being teens (aged to be 18, idc if it's not canonically plausible) working in retail).

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- not my gif -

GIF by fgweasley

Summer was supposed to be a time of freedom, long nights, and recklessness and there was nobody else who knew this more than Fred and George. Unfortunately for them, it appears that their summer was going to be nothing but seeing the inside of that damn coffee shop. Fred and George rarely ever regretted a prank, but right now, they were starting to think that perhaps slipping Malfoy that candy that made his skin turn Gryffindor red and his hair a golden snitch gold wasn’t worth this. It also taught them that when Malfoy said his father would hear about this, he actually means it - sometimes.  

  However, no matter how funny the prank was and how much it was worth all the time they spent planning and agonizing to create the final product, it was not worth this. Not worth the wrinkled fingers that lost all feeling after wiping down every single table and counter in the cafe. Not worth the skin of the heat from the coffee machines. Not worth the horrible experience of dealing with customers. Not to mention uncomfortable uniforms. Forced to wear black jeans, black dress shirts, and a ratty old apron ten other people wore before them. 

  While George grumbled everyday, hoping and wishing for their return to Hogwarts (something nobody expected to hear), Fred’s summer was not a complete waste. He did not realize this when they applied for their job, but this coffee shop tucked into a hidden alleyway of Diagon Alley was often frequented by a rather pretty girl. In her flowing sundresses, her hair cascading down over her shoulders in soft waves. When he first saw her his knees nearly gave out. Then when she turned to leave (lemonade in hand - it was a hot day) and he caught a glimpse of the white ribbon tying her hair into a half-up, half-down style, George had to catch him because his knees did give out. She looked vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t exactly place her. 

  “She’s in our year, a Hufflepuff,” Hermione had told him one day when she and Ron had visited them. They were out gathering ideas for a present for Harry. “She’s quiet, likes to stick to her routine but doesn’t shy away from new opportunities. She’s in my book club and study club. She has such a beautiful voice but she thinks it's horrible - that’s why she is so quiet.” She revealed after Fred pressed her for more information. 

  Unfortunately for Fred, he has yet to hear that beautiful voice since he never seems to be on the cash when she comes in or someone beats him to it - usually George as a form of twisted amusement. “Hermione was right. She does have a beautiful voice.” George blinked after the first time he took her order. It was later discovered that the reason she hates her voice was because some Slytherins had poked fun at her in First Year, leaving her with an ugly taste in her mouth and horrible self-confidence. Fred could wring their necks, every last one of them. 

  Anytime Fred had any downtime, he found himself thinking of her. He knew nothing of her but, yet, she consumed every thought and every dream of his. Such as today. It was a horribly humid and dreadful day. Every door to the coffee shop was open, a cooling spell was placed on the shop but it was barely fighting against the stickiness, and the owner even found some muggle fans and set them up. It was slow, barely anyone wanted to leave their houses and if they did, they surely couldn’t even think about sipping on a coffee - even one of their iced ones since the ice would probably melt before they even took their first sip. 

  But here was Fred, elbows digging into the counter as he hogged one of the fans. His back was facing the entrance as he moved with the fan which was oscillating. George was in the back, doing work back there but Fred was sure he was just sitting in front of that fan. “Bloody hell.” He groaned, pinching his shirt and pulling it away from him. This was torture. 

  “Excuse me,” A soft, hesitant voice called to him over the rattling of the fan, startling him. Turning around, his eyes widened when she saw who stood at the counter. Hair pulled up into a high ponytail, bangs hanging around her face from where the shorter strands fell out of the ponytail. Even looking right at her, he saw the ribbon she usually wore in her hair. Today’s was a pretty yellow shade, matching the sundress she wore. It was a pale yellow, nothing that jumped right out at you. “Could I get a large lemonade?” She asked him, blinking sweetly as she rolled up to the balls of her white converse. That voice. He was blown away. He was never going to be the same after hearing that beautiful sound. How could he go on with his life knowing that that voice exists and he isn’t hearing it every second of everyday.  

  “Yes, of course,” He nodded, rushing to the counter, nearly tripping over himself. “George, can you make a large lemonade?” He yelled out back as he typed away on the till. Instantly, George emerged, a large lemonade in hand. 

  “Here ya go, Y/N. I knew you would be wanting one of these today. Made it once I heard your voice.” He winked at her and Fred contemplated murdering him right there. He actually considered it when she giggled at his twin, but the sound made him stop. Everybody said her voice was the most beautiful sound, which he could agree with all his heart on now that he heard it, but her giggle. Just thinking about making her laugh made him want to lay on his stomach on his bed and kick his feet like Ginny does whenever Harry says hi to her. 

  “Thank you, George,” She smiled thankfully, holding out her hand. Almost as if under a spell, Fred reached his hand out, palm facing up. With her sweet smile turning to Fred, she dropped a handful of sickles in his palm. Her fingers brushed against the palm of his hand, sending shivers and sparks running through his nerves. “That’s enough for the lemonade and ten sickles for you guys to split for a tip. Thank you, Fred.” 

  The shock sent to Fred’s system was immense when she said his name. She knew his name. She knew his name. He opened and closed his mouth as she turned on her heel, her skirt flaring up adorably, her ponytail and ribbon flaring up as well and off she went into the dreadful heat, making Fred’s day so much better. 

____

  It was a rush. Possibly the biggest rush Fred and George have ever experienced at the shop. The queue was running out of the door. Perhaps everyone just now realized that summer was coming to a close and just now decided to emerge from their lazy, hazy, summer daze to enjoy the days. This, of course, made Fred miserable. 

  Instead of enjoying their time, patrons were making their lives a living hell. And for what? Amusement? What was the reason he had to get yelled at by a man because his coffee was too hot to drink? He questioned if it was possible that these people got some sort of happiness from throwing adult hissyfits and yelling at underpaid, overworked employees. Did they have some sort of odd kink? Did it fill a missing void? Whatever it was, Fred quite frankly did not want to be part of it.  

  However, when he saw that shining face in the queue, her nose buried in her book as she read so intently. She wore her hair down aside from two locks of hair tied back into a braid, secured by a light blue ribbon today. When he saw her, he froze for a moment. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way the sun burned through the dirty windows (that seemed to have fingerprint smudged permanently tattooed on it) and hit her like a golden spotlight. The way her finger absentmindedly stroked the cover of her book as she read. 

  “Excuse me,” The customer in front of him barked. He jolted back to reality. Frankly, he already was in reality since Y/N was completely gorgeous. There was no fantasy about that. She was perfect. The fantasy was that she had feelings for him or at least thought he was cute. “Did you get my order?” The man, a short, plump man with an angry red nose despite the beautiful summer day they were having, grumbled. 

  “One medium coffee. Would you like that iced or with anything in it?” Fred asked the normal questions, bracing himself for the normal response he usually received from people with certain mannerisms. 

  The man’s nose seemed to get even more red. “Of course I don’t. If I wanted it another way, I would have ordered it another way. What do I look like? An idiot? Rowena, you kids these days, needing to have things iced and sweetened. Whatever happened to the good British taste? Black coffee. That is what I want-”

  “That will be 3 sickles, Sir.” Fred read the total off, noticing how Y/N glanced up, rolling onto her tiptoes to take note of what was taking so long. He wanted to get this nasty old man out of his line so that she could get on with her day. Her day shouldn’t be wasted in this shop waiting in line. 

  “Here, keep the change.” The man basically tossed the sickles at Fred. Four sickles. 

  “Some change,” Fred whispered under his breath, putting three sickles in the till and dropping one in the communal tip jar. That naked a total of five sickles in tips. “Have a nice day, sir,” Fred faked a smile as the man waddled off to the pick-up area, barking at George to hurry up. “I can help whoever is next.” “Two people until her.” Fred thought. 

  “Hi, could we get two lemonades? Mediums please,” The teen girl giggled, eyes staring up at Fred sweetly. Fred nodded, writing the order down and sliding it along the counter. Harrison, the manager, grabbed it to start making it. “So, we’ll be seeing you at Hogwarts in a couple of weeks, right, George?” She asked with a bat of her eyelashes, still getting his name wrong despite his name tag being basically eye level with her. He could see Y/N look up from her book, snickering slightly behind her book. 

  “I’m actually Fred. And yes. That will be seven sickles today.” Fred read off their total, holding his hand out for their money. 

  “Oh, sorry. You both are so handsome, it’s hard to tell you apart.” She flirted with a wink, dropping exactly seven sickles in his hand. 

  “Have a nice day,” He nodded to them as they wandered off with linked arms to bother George. “Next please!” He just needed to take care of this one customer and then she would be at his cash. Evidently, she noticed this as she was tucking her book into her bag and pulling out her coin wallet. He watched her intently, somehow managing to take the customer’s order and recite the amount of money he needed. 

  He watched as she counted the sickles she had pulled out before pulling out two more coins before doing some math in her head. He could tell since her eyes flicked around and she used her free hand to wiggle her fingers as if counting on them. “Have a nice day.” He wasn’t even sure what that customer ordered, but he must have done it right. 

  And up stepped the person he was waiting for. Y/N stepped up with a bounce, smiling brightly at him. He wanted to faint right there. There she was, standing there and it overwhelmed him so much that his nervous system was going haywire on him. “Hi, Freddie!” She seemed to have gotten much more comfortable. She was more bubbly and talkative with him and his brother. She even started to call them by nicknames. It warmed Fred’s heart to the point it might burst. 

  “Hi, Y/N, what can I get for you today?” He asked, trying to calm his racing heart and malfunctioning nervous system. He was in fight-or-flight with the secret third option: faint. 

  “Just a large iced coffee. I am trying to finish off the last book on my book club’s summer reading list and I decided I might as well change up the scenery.” She explained, her voice much more even and comfortable. Not the same reluctant, soft voice she had when she first talked to him. And if he thought that voice was beautiful, then this voice was perfect. Alluring. Charming. Cute. Marvelous. Dazzling. Delicate. Stunning. Splendid. Gorgeous. Lovely. Any synonym there was for beautiful because this voice was so much better. 

  Before he could even tell her the total, she handed him the sickles she had counted out prior to the interaction. She always did it. “Three sickles for the iced coffee and how many for the tip?” He asked, knowing exactly how she worked things. 

  “Fifteen. Five for everyone who worked today,” She smiled as she rolled up to the balls of her feet - something he found that she did often. The line was gone aside from her and part of Fred wished it would stay away so she could stand there talking to him, but unfortunately someone walked in. “I’ll leave you to it, Fred.” She smiled at him. It appeared sad and part of him hoped that she felt upset about having to part from him. 

  He watched her walk over to George who held her coffee out to her. Sharing pleasantries, she headed off to one of the many tables. Taking her normal table by the window. “Alright boys. I am heading out, I’ll be back in two hours to close it down.” Harrison told them. That was most likely the last rush of the day. People didn’t tend to frequent the coffee shop near close. They gave him nods as he left. 

  Thirty minutes and they hadn’t stopped. Anytime they saw a lull coming, once they served one customer, two more would come. Just as Fred turned his back, taking a deep breath as the attack stopped, he heard the approaching footsteps of someone. He wanted to roll his eyes and outwardly show the resentment he had felt, but he didn’t feel the same hostility he had felt with the last few customers. Part of him should have known why before he turned around, but sometimes he isn’t always on the ball. 

  As he turned around, he was pleasantly shocked to see Y/N standing there at the counter again, her head down as she inspected the wet patch on her blue sundress. After a few seconds of silence, she looked up, hand hovering over the patch on the center of her torso. “Hey, Fred, again,” She smiled, a bit awkwardly as she didn’t usually come up after she got her order unless it was to say bye to the boys (something rather new after she got comfortable with them). “Do you think I could get a napkin? That last customer who left kind of knocked into me a bit and I got the last bit of iced coffee on me-” She cut herself off as Fred reacted without thinking, grabbing the back of his brother’s black shirt and ripping it off of him.

  “Here you go, Y/N.” He handed it to her. Shocked, she took it from him. George just stood there, blinking at his brother as if he had gone completely mad. Fred considered this a sign that perhaps, working nearly every single day of the summer had made him cracked in the head. Slowly, looking at the face Y/N was making, he came back into his body. It was as if seeing Y/N in need made him go into autopilot, doing whatever he needed to to resolve the issue Y/N was facing. 

  “Fred, what in Godric's name?” George questioned, still a bit shocked that his brother completely ripped the back of his shirt off, leaving just his sleeves and the front. It was silent as the three of them all looked at each other, trying to make sense of the situation. Fred couldn’t even remember his brain telling him to do that, let alone any thought of ripping his brother’s shirt. 

  The silence was broken by the sweet giggles of Y/N. Fred nearly gave himself whiplash turning his head to look at her. There she stood, on the other side of the counter, one hand holding the tattered shreds of George’s shirt, the other one hovering over her mouth as her giggled turned into laughter, eyes crinkling closed. “Oh my Helga,” She pressed her lips together, her purely magnetic eyes opening and meeting Fred’s with a zing being sent through Fred’s body like electricity (which this summer, he discovered was pretty dangerous). “I needed that, Freddie. That guy who bumped my arm as a complete arse-” Fred blinked, that might have been the most foul he had ever heard her talk, though Hermione had told him she had said much worse about some of the guys in their year. “You know exactly what to do to make people laugh, it’s an amazing gift,” She nodded at him, a large smile hanging off her lips. “Thank you, see you at Hogwarts if I am not in next week.” She whispered as she rolled onto the balls of her feet. 

  Before Fred could react, she was pressing her lips against his cheek. Her sweet looking lips felt even sweeter against the now burning flesh of his freckled cheeks. He knew that now he felt her lips, he wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about how they would feel against his own lips, but right now his brain was empty. He couldn’t function as she pulled away, heels crashing to the ground. A bashful smile stayed on her lips as she waved to the pair of them, Fred so far gone he barely even registered the fact that her lips were no longer touching him - probably due to the fact that the tingling he felt was still there.    When he finally came back into his body again, Y/N and her bashfulness had left with her book tucked under her arm for almost five minutes. Blinking around, Fred saw the basically empty shop, the only person lingering being someone who had been there for two hours now. Looking to his side, he felt George’s “what the hell” look before he saw it. Winching, nervous about his brother’s wrath. “Sorry about the shirt, George.”

[instarsandcrime]

Bigger Vent

TW: Gender Dysphoria, Sensory Over-stimulation, Touch-Starvation, CPTSD/Trauma.

Basically read only if you're in the headspace for negative things 😅

So let me recount everything that's happened through July:

Had two weeks' worth of sleep deprivation due to nightly fireworks

During those two weeks, exactly two days in, I learned that I need to move out in September, giving me a little under a month to find an apartment during a housing crisis

Four days in I learn that my therapist is retiring so I have no one to talk to about any of this, and there is a huge shortage of new therapists where I live

Six days in I almost give up on my certificate because getting a certificate in the first place is harder than I thought. Trauma from school is a thing, I have a learning disability, and god forbid any issue be a simple one for me

A week's worth of no sleep and I do not get food stamps or affordable housing because I do not have a job

There are three or four different people who need my help and they've gone through much worse than me at the time so honestly I have no regrets. But I also have no time to process my own changes and problems and no therapist to talk to. None of my friends who are already going through a lot deserve to have intense shit dumped on them all at once. It's not fair to them

I have no time for a nap or a break by this point, I need to find a job like yesterday. I can't find anything, I don't have enough experience. Plus moving to an entirely new location that I can actually "afford" means I would have to drive an hour at least to my workplace where the meager options are. Yay

Two weeks in the fireworks have stopped. I have gotten so overstimulated and have so little coherency that I'm doing everything wrong where I volunteer and it's making me feel like a worthless person, but I can't say anything because I'm here to help and it's important that everyone who works with me at the library feels like they're listened to. Genuinely, unironically. They work their asses off 😤

I delete a lot of posts on my blog that involve venting and calls for more asks because they get, without exaggeration, 0 notes, and it's incredibly embarrassing to be faced with the fact that I very publicly whined to absolutely no one. At this point whatever happens at least I know I'm doing this regardless of that possibility

Yesterday I got mad at my parents and friend. I feel like a monster for even thinking about how I acted because I get one or two days of hugs every three months and it's such a selfish reason for a breaking point. Like what the fuck is wrong with you, one of your friends is stressed because his partner literally had a baby a week ago, this friend that I snapped at just recently came back from a week's visit with an abusive stepmom, and your petty ass is touch-starved? Like, that's it? You're supposed to be an adult

This morning I finally tried to get a full night's sleep. I was woken up at 1 AM because of period cramps, so I look forward to some gender dysphoria today. I am now bordering on four weeks of, drum roll please...less than a week total of sleep total. I can take naps now, though, so that's nice

tl;dr I know things will be better soon but in short:

[axel-skz]

Love untold

Part 1

A/N: I honestly have no clue how to write a part 2 for the bang chan fic. I’m gonna yolo it and see what happens ||| Ok so… I’m sorry… to everyone’s soul. I’m probably about to crush it a little. Now, I did the song shuffle and I got *drumrolllllssss* 24 TO 25!!! Love that honestly ||| I did try to proof read it but I’m also blind so mistakes will have been made.

Summary: You finally give Chan a chance. All he has to do, is be there on time and fix it.

You had spent about 2 weeks at your best friends house. It had been an emotional nightmare for you. You loved chan so much and this was the longest you had gone without talking to him.

It made you appreciate even the tiny moments with him so much.

All that being said though… it still wasn’t right the way you were being treated. You deserved so much better then that and if you didn’t stand up for yourself, who would.

You had started to feel worthless and so incredibly alone. It was the worst kind of loneliness, one where even surrounded by a group of people who were there because they loved you, you felt nothing.

Taking this time had made you go out again and talk to your loved ones more. Like you used to and you fell in love with the world all over again.

You wouldn’t have if your best friend hadn’t let you sulk more then 2 days.

You felt ready now to turn on your phone and face him.

This felt like the biggest miracle of all, you hadn’t used your phone in over two weeks. You hadn’t logged into any socials on any other devices. You were in disbelief as you powered the phone back on.

As soon as it turned on, all the texts from chan and the kids came through.

There were so many texts. You felt bad scrolling through them all. It ranged from chan apologising to you to the kids teling you about how miserable chan had been without you. You didn’t know who to reply to first so you set down your phone and took a deep breath.

If this gets overwhelming, I’m allowed to stop. I can do whatever makes me feel comfortable and I owe nothing to anyone.

It made you feel better to have a little mantra. Your best friend had suggested it to you.

You decided to text chan. You felt ready to do it. You started the text but then deleted it, this went on for another 5 minutes. You were stumped. You also had this feeling of terror in your gut that maybe this would go wrong somehow. That you could lose him forever.

You took another breath and started writing.

Chan, I’ve taken a while to settle myself and I think I’m ready to meet…

You had to take another moment to calm your anxiety. You told him where to meet and at what time. You would only wait 10 minutes and no more. You finished off the message confirming that he would be able to meet you at that time.

You didn’t have to wait long before you got a reply.

Y/N! I’m so glad you’re ok and I’m so so sorry that I made you feel that way. I would never hurt you on purpose and if I wasn’t so stupid, I would have realised what I was doing. The time and the place is fine. I will do anything to fix this. I love you and I’ll see you then. All I ask… is that you have faith in me. One more time.

The entire river of tears started to flow again as you read the text over and over. You mentally prepared yourself to meet him.

Two days later…

You sat in the cafe with the final bit of hope you had left. You werent going to let it go but that all depended on Chan and what he was planning on doing. The last 2 days had gone so agonisingly slow, you felt like you were in detention. Staring at a clock with no control over when this hell would end.

Three minutes late…

You had also made sure not to turn up early like you usually did when you wanted to meet people. If he was early, you wouldn’t have to wait… but he wasn’t. You didn’t lose any hope though because he still had time. You wanted this for him so badly. For you… so badly…

Six minutes late…

It made it harder the more you looked around. Your eyes flitting through the faces outside all the windows, hoping for the only familiar one.

Why does this place have so many god damn windows?!

You felt someone tap your shoulder and your soul left your body. When you finally came to your senses a second later, you turned to see Chan.

You froze. Unable to move. Your eyes took him in, you could see the dark circles and the eyebags. He looked horrible. You were struck with a bit of guilt.

No, this is not your fault. How many nights of sleep did you sacrifice waiting for him? Get a hold of yourself.

The cafe was very crowded so you couldn’t hear him say, ‘hi’. He grabbed your hand gently and gestured to take you outside. You got up and followed him.

It felt too good to be holding his hand right now. Way too good. Like, give in to all of your inhibitions and ignore all logic good. So as soon as you were outside, you pulled your hand away.

A look of concern crossed his face as he quickly turned around, thinking you got pulled away by accident in a crowd. Then it was hurt because he realised you were right there and had pulled your hand away on your own accord.

He lead the way to the park across the street and you guys found a bench to sit on. Sadly, that bench was covered in bird shizzle so you had to keep walking another 10 minutes before getting to another bench. It could not be more awkward and you cursed the park for not having enough benches.

You guys sat down and continued the awkward behaviour by looking around. You didn’t know what to say to each other and you didn’t know what the outcome for today could be. There was too much pressure.

Chan made the first move to get a conversation started, ‘how have you been? You feeling ok? Eating and drinking well?’

‘Yeah, I dont feel as… bad as I did before… everythings fine… you look like you haven’t been sleeping…’

‘It’s nothing out of the ordinary so it’s not like it’s unusual…’

‘Less sleep then before though?.’

‘I dont have the only thing that helps me sleep,’ he scratched his neck.

‘I hope you get it back…’ you looked straight ahead and not at him. It hurt too much to look at him.

‘Me too. I can’t believe how incredibly clueless I’ve been. How I could do that to you constantly and not even realise.’

‘What are you thinking happens now?’ You finally turned to look at him.

He took a good moment to look into your eyes and scan your face before he said, ‘I want to say that I’ll try… my absolute hardest… I just don’t know what I’ll do if that isn’t good enough either… I’m being stretched so thin with everything.’

‘You are a dad to seven. Can’t blame you for having a hard time,’ you chuckled as you tried to empathise.

‘The last thing I wanted to do today was break up but right now, sitting here and looking at you… I dont want to make another promise I won’t be able to keep. I love you too much to do that to you. To put you through that again,’ he was trying to hold back tears. You could tell.

‘I don’t want to do that either…’ you said in a hushed tone.

‘We’ll still be friends. Id never leave you and we still talk about anything and everything. I just can’t ask for you to wait for me to be in a place where I can start dating again,’ this hurt your heart. This wasn’t even an option in your mind.

‘I’m willing to wait. I know you’re it for me… I cant picture a life without you,’ the idea of him not being there at any of your important milestones had always been non existent in your mind.

‘But it isn’t fair. That will still hurt you just like before. Having to wait for me. I dont know how long that could take. We could be in that wierd limbo for years.’

You didn’t know what else you could say….‘this isnt fair. Nothing is fair.’

He looked at you through tears as he moved to hug you. ‘I know, my love.’

You guys sat there for a while, hugging each other and not saying anything. It hurt like hell already and any words would only make this worse. As it got colder and the sunlight started to dim, you guys knew what you had to do.

‘We’re still going to be best friends right?’ You said as you moved to stand up.

‘I wouldn’t want anyone else,’ he replied honestly as he followed.

‘I should go… before I say things I shouldn’t.’

Chan gave a dry laugh, ‘same here.’

You kept staring at each other and not moving.

You let out a sad chuckle, ‘one of us should probably…’

‘yeah…’ he was looking at you with unmoving eyes.

‘both of us turn around at the same time when I get to three. Sound good?’

‘Yeah,’ he agreed

‘one…’

You both couldn’t take your eyes off wach other and slowly moved closer.

‘…two…’ you said a little quietly.

You guys were extremely close. Noses almost touching and you could feel his breath.

‘…three…’ a whisper.

He kissed you. You couldn’t pull away and you were there for god knows how long before you pulled away.

Chan looked you in the eyes ‘no.’

‘What?’ You felt a little panic. What? He didn’t want to be friends anymore either? Was this a stupid mistake? He kissed you. This can’t be your fault.

‘No, I’m not leaving you. No way, I just can’t. We have to figure this out. There has to be some way.’

‘You will have to work even harder, you know?’

‘Yeah. But if you’re willing to do it, I will. No trying, I’ll just do it. If there was ever a time to give my all to something, it would be now.’

You hugged him so quickly, with so much excitement. ‘THE AMOUNT OF CRYING I’M DOING TODAY! OH MY GOD!’

He hugged you back, tightly. ‘bro same.’

‘Did you just bro zone me after everything we’ve been through?’

This got a silent laugh from him, ‘hh, hush now little one.’

‘You say shit like that and wonder why everyone calls you old.’

There, as the sun set, you stayed. You don’t remember exactly how long and it was very cold. But that hug was the warmest you had gotten for a very long time. You felt like everything was going to be ok.

So many things were left unsaid and so many problems would have to be fixed later. It was definitely going to be hard, but it was more then worth it.

Taglist (can you call it a list if it’s just one person 💀):

@q1sng

THIS ISNT A LITERARY MASTERPIECE but I hope it was still a good enough read :) Thank you for wasting some time with me.

Also, take your guess at who the best friend should be. Ive got someone in mind but I wanna know if you thought of an idol or your real besties 👯‍♀️

Like, reblog and leave comments about anything and everything ;)

[plantoyoon]

New experiences. part 1

I am writing this because I'm actively thinking about it and writing it seems like it would help to get it out of the depths of my brain. (I think I mostly wrote it in second person, haven't proofread it, I don't know how much sense it makes)

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Synopsis: You need someone to help you with your needs

Genre/Tags: First time meeting, Friends with benefits, maybe soul bound

Mostly inside talks, then some fluff, not much action though... it will follow soon

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

This is the most stupid thing you’ve ever done! An improper way to say hello, but if you're actively thinking about me in your goblin ways, please stop! Message sent.

Voice 1: Why have I done this? Should I delete the message? I still have time... but I'm sure he already saw it. Why isn't there an answer? Am I being that insane?

Voice 2: Well, probably yeah... because you just sent a text to a dude you stopped talking to more than a month ago. In a kind of crazy way. Let's cover it up for a bit, shall we? So I know that in those periods of talking or not talking, he told you that every time you texted him, he was always thinking intensely of you. Given the kind of relationship you had and the person he was, it was smutty thinking. I might sound like I'm actively judging, but it was the same for you. Texting him when you were so close to touching yourself or after, depending on how needy you felt that day. Therefore, my insane message!

Alright, he's typing... Typing... still typing...

You're a nervous wreck at this point, still uncertain if you should delete your message. That would be even more insane now!

"Hi! Maybe I am. Would that be so wrong?" came the answer, dry and flirty. As he usually does, but the lack of honesty bleeds through... he would usually write more, not be that mysterious.

"Not wrong, but..." In your usual style, you overthink what to write next. Should you say: "Yes, stop! I need to work, not think about you," or "I miss your hugs and you," or "I am a dumb thing who needs to get her shit together. Sorry for writing!" But you don't. Your fingers go flirtatious and say, "Not wrong, but I know you could do better than just manifest me into your couch."

"What do you mean?" The conversation feels strained, but you go further in your stupidity and inquire, "Text, ask, and receive." Wow, so bold! You clearly don't recognize yourself; it's like you never left being his go-to friend with benefits for six months.

Looking at the messages, your mind starts thundering with anxieties. Did he get a girlfriend? Is he upset? Does he hate you? Does he think you're so lame for texting him like this after the last time he refused your meeting request? You wisely put your phone down, put on some music, and close your eyes, trying to ground yourself for a moment... Why did "Drowning" start playing? The universe is aligned with your personal saboteur.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You drowned in a similar moment in your life, having the same urges and desire for connection. It was hot outside, the AC being your only hope, but it was an old one... so there was still a need to lay like a starfish on the bed to properly cool off. But your life was another thing—working part-time, doing this and that, and just focusing on your health, hobbies, doing some sports, painting... you know, trying to enjoy life.

According to your friends, you lacked a boyfriend. You denied it strongly until recently, when all those couples' activities started to creep onto your wish list. The fact that all the novels you were reading also contained a relationship here and there put even more pressure on you.

But as much as you'd like to stick to the novelty of it all, the reality was simple. You were horny, and your hands and toys couldn't keep up with your appetite anymore. So you did what every girl not in her right mind does... went to dating apps.

You said to yourself: We're just doing some friends with benefits, not a relationship, so we can be as picky with looks as we want.

So you set up your account and started swiping. Lots of lefts, until someone caught your eye... Dark hair, fair skin, an artistic pose, and another one in the mirror with a camera pointed towards it, where his hands seemed like the main attraction. Long and elegant fingers, yet strong with prominent knuckles. Have you ever had a thing for hands? you ask yourself.

Swipe right and matched. Oh, that was fast, considering you made the account less than half an hour ago.

You try with a bit of conversation so you wouldn't be the direct asshole you usually are. You had prior experience with dating apps, so you expected the conversation to drift quickly to the action part. But this time it didn't. The conversation was quite smooth and cute, getting to know each other, talking about photography. As enjoyable as the conversation was, you had a purpose, so for the first time, it was you who moved the talk to meet and fuck.

Always a smooth talker, but this was your moment as a weird robot who suddenly had needs and needed to focus on her purpose. After a few hours, you managed to have him at your door, inviting him in and playing the part where you present your house with him complimenting the size of your apartment.

He is cute, you thought. Longer dark hair, dark eyes, whose emotions played between curiosity and reservation, and dark clothes. You definitely need some wine to gain your confidence in this situation.

"Wine?" you ask, at which he confirms while checking out what was running on TV. It was a Star Wars series that you've been watching recently. You've kept it running in the background for some months until now, so you kind of forgot to change it to some music or something more appealing. The atmosphere between you two was a bit strange, not knowing what to say, what to talk about. He seemed uncomfortable. You cringe for a moment, but who would have thought that Star Wars was your saving point because the awkwardness disappears as he starts to talk enthusiastically about watching that as a teenager, his memories around it, and the impact it had on the world. Of course, he enjoys Star Wars; now it feels less intimidating.

The conversation runs smoothly and a few hours go by unnoticed, laughing, talking about random aspects of films and how life correlates to them. It felt nice and natural to talk to him, sharing quirky thoughts together and even throwing some jinxes in there. At this point, even though you were still horny, you would have been happy with this night. You notice the wine left in the bottle, so you pour all the remaining content into the glasses and drink it. You feel how this last sip got you more dizzy, and you feel more comfortable with the silence and just look in his eyes with intent. He reflects the lust simply and surely, getting closer to you, placing both hands on your hips, closing the distance between you two while slowly pecking your lips. He feels smooth, his lips perfectly matched over yours. His perfect hands start to move on your body, his fingers pressing harder into your skin. He takes a breath to look at you with big eyes for a second then crashes his lips against yours, his tongue licking your lips eagerly and you grant access, slowly feeling out of breath and dizzy of desire.

The way his tongue dances with yours feels completely like him, balancing between assertiveness and shyness, between wanting to engulf you and protect you. You're having so many emotions in this moment, that it's starts to creep on you that you just met today. I think he senses something is clouding your mind, slowly pulling away from the kiss to look at you, caress your hair with one hand and cup your cheek with the other. The look of understanding he gives to you, brings so much reassurance and makes you take the lead in the following kiss.

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

[azrielgreen]

Ok I’m literally just writing down every random thought I have as I progress through the chapter.

1. Eddie the deepthroating king

2. The ENTIRE honeymoon period was just so fucking sweet. They love each other so much I wanna die. I think one of my favourite things about your writing is how obsessed Steve and Eddie are with each other in every single story.

3. Eddie and Steve swapping secrets. Hearing their pasts, especially Eddie’s in more detail was everything to me. My heart just broke for both of them. Obviously what Eddie had done in the commune was wrong but the kid was 14!!! And clearly brainwashed. Neither of them should have ever gone through what they did.

4. Every bit of Jonathan content has me so curious. Not shocked he was dealing. But saying Billy is his friend? Did Eddie make him do this? Was this all part of Eddie’s greater plan? Did he WANT Billy to be all psycho on steroids and hurt Steve??? God I really need to go back and re-read the whole story.

5. I need to know what happened to Chrissy. And with Eddie. With Chrissy AND Eddie and WHO did he stab to get into prison? Again, I need to re-read this whole story cause my memory is shocking so idk if this has already been mentioned.

6. I know it’ll be part of his greater plan but Eddie telling a junkie about the prostitution of Steve probably knowing it’ll get back to Hopper???? (I’m assuming that’s why he did it???)

7. When they were talking about who has dated who I was holding my breath half expecting Eddie and Nancy to confess or something. Maybe I’m crazy for thinking it.

8. JORDAN BEING MISSING??? Eddie you PSYCHOPATH

9. When steve meets the six is he going to notice the lip scar?!?!?!

10. Reading this Billy compared to SS Billy is WILD

11. I spent the whole chapter wanting Eddie’s POV and then when it happened I was so nervous. I’m always just so nervous for whatever bombshell he’ll drop. But no we got the SWEETEST tattooing scene I’ve ever witnessed

12. Wait DID EDDIE ORGANIZE FOR JONATHAN TO MOVE?!???! Did I miss that?? Is that new or am I misreading?

13. Eddie knowing when Little Steve is about to make an appearance!! 10/10

I don’t know what else to say. The way you write is so beautiful. I love every bit of this story. I am most likely going to spend the next few weeks (yes WEEKS cause this story is fucking LONG) re-reading the whole story cause I think I’ve forgotten a lot of details and need to start putting together the pieces of the puzzle

Also is it new that you added a final chapter count of 30 for this on A03 or am I just noticing that now? Cause 30 CHAPTERS??? Are you telling me we’re just a bit over half way????

Ok bye, have a nice day

Sarah??!!😭😭😭🌈✨️this is so so lovely!!! Thank you!!!

Yes, it's 30 planned chapters total now.

Eddie is behind the move to NY for Jon, yes! There's a deleted Prism scene where it's Jon' POV (set after the restaurant scene with Nancy's fancy people and then Steve being wine drunk at Nancy's place) that shows a little more insight into this but its Eddie behind wanting Jon to move away!

The lip scar is a prosthetic Zachary wore to throw Robin off and guide the description towards Jordan.

Eddie let it spread about Billy selling Steve because he knew Hopper would interfere and bend the rules for him, the way Hopper had done many times in the past for Jon. Eddie has Hopper's weaknesses well and truly clocked.

The Chrissy/Eddie story is revealed in Part Three!

Eddie got into a bar fight and stabbed the guy, landing him in prison the first time. It's just an unknown guy whose brother was a cop (or IS he??!)

The Jon - Billy stuff was really fun to seed and there's still a little more to unravel there but essentially Jon was selling steroids to Billy of his own volition because he sort of *was* low key friendly with Billy at the time, but was reporting it all to Eddie ofc. Eddie then knew about the steroids, Billy was the one who wanted the steroids, though, he's been on them since he was 17 so he could be strong enough that no one could ever hurt him again but it's also a source of HUGE shame for him and he'd never admit he used them.

And finally yes, Eddie Munson's non existent gag reflex, we love you!!

Thank you SO much again!

❤️🌈✨️

[thesharkspajamas]

Jealous James

Requested by @im-kikimon - hope this is kind of what you were looking for :)

If anyone has requests or wants more of this AU please lmk I'm begging for feedback

Harriet - James' Pallas cat daemon

Gunnar - Ruby's badger daemon

Setting: the Beaufort twins are staying with the Bells after the mansion drama at the end of season one. (No real spoilers tho dw)

James listened to Kieran Rutherford’s pitch for an Ascot-themed Easter garden party. As outfitters to the King, the Beaufort family attended Ascot every year, and his mother always made every best dressed list.

“And what? We usher in Lexington in a carriage? So many people at Maxton attend Ascot that people would see it for the rip-off it is. You want to ask actual nobility to picnic like the Queen Anne enclosure?” James scoffed.

Rutherford flushed and his shoulders crept up to his ears. “Do… Do you have a better idea?”

The whole room turned to James, who did not, in fact, have a better idea. “I’m saying we can’t imitate something like that. We could keep the dress code and do a standard party - maybe themed with a flower type, hyacinths or something seasonal.” He shrugged, spinning the words out as they came to him.

Silence fell and the tension was thick as James had crushed Rutherford’s hard work a second time. Lin nudged Ruby until she stood up, “Um…” She hugged her notebook to her chest, and suddenly James felt embarrassed; she was clearly uncomfortable because he’d put her in an awkward position, again, without meaning to. He’d just tried to be helpful. “I think you’ve both got good points,” she nodded to herself as an idea formed, “maybe you could work together on this and come back next week with some solid ideas?”

Both boys scowled at her, but she thought it would be good for them to sort out their issues. She smiled and nodded as if they’d just agreed, “Great. Lexington said he’s trying to arrange the keynote speaker so we don’t have the final schedule yet, but they shouldn’t be more than an hour, and if the lunch starts at twelve then we should expect to serve food around one’oh’five.,” she started writing a vague outline on the paper pad, “canapes around six, as it’s a low alcohol event, carriages at nine, latest.”

…

James emailed Rutherford in the car after lacrosse practice:

Hi,

If you send me what you’ve got for the garden party I’ll read it through and email you back with some notes.

James Beaufort

Sent from my iPhone

That should do it. He didn’t particularly want to meet in person.

…

Rutherford sent a link to a Pinterest board later that evening. No message, only the link. James opened it and he realised he hadn’t just been an asshole to Ruby but to Rutherford as well. He could see the guy had put some serious effort into this, and that the Ascot theme was only a template rather than a theme.

He opened his email and started typing out an apology - cc’ing Ruby.

“Coward,” Harriet accused him.

James remembered how Ruby had apologised to him on the lacrosse pitch and deleted the draft.

...

"Hey,” he walked up to Rutherford, “can we talk about the garden party?”

Rutherford looked at the ground, “Yeah.”

‘Go on’ Harriet urged James with a glare.

“I apologise for being rude to you at the meeting. You clearly put a lot of work into the project and it was wrong of me to stomp on it like that.”

“Yannow, it always annoys me in those stories when the nice girl picks the hot guy who treats her like shit over the boring guy who really likes her.”

‘Yikes,’ James thought. He hadn’t been expecting that. “You think I treat her like shit?”

“You have.”

James exhaled, ‘yep, deserved that one. Wait, what does he know?’

“But…” Rutherford spoke up again, “I admit I’m blindsided by your apology. I think we can at least try to work together.” He pushed his glasses further up his nose.

James was stunned. He nodded, “Library? Breaktime?” 

“Yeah, I prefer the desk third from the door by the east window. There’s a squirrel drey in the tree right next to it.”

“Third desk from the door by the east window. Got it.”

James glanced at the empty desks near the windows; Rutherford wasn’t here yet. He pulled out his phone and checked the compass app before walking to the eastern side. He sat down at the third from the door and opened up his tablet. He’d made a folder in his sketchbook app last night of different things to go with the theme; invitations, drinks stands, signage, all sorts.

“Did you see the squirrel? It’s a Eurasian red squirrel, pretty rare for around here.”

James looked up as Rutherford sat down and hoped that his disinterest in all things squirrel wasn’t all over his face. “Couldn’t spot it.”

“That branch fork right there,” Rutherford leaned over the table and pointed to a nondescript cluster of twigs.

James nodded, “ahh” and angled his tablet so Rutherford could see it. “I liked the muted colours idea. That was clever. Lydia told me lupins are in season and they come in all sorts of colours, so I thought we could use those as a theme. I sketched an invitation.” He flicked through the app to his ‘sketch’ which had actually taken him ages.

Rutherford took it all in, “That looks really good. Can you mass-produce the invitation?”

“Not by hand, but we could have them printed or send it as an e-invite.”

Rutherford scrunched his nose and shook his head as if James was an amateur, “Paper. Always paper. We send an email to remind them to RSVP anyway, no use clogging their inbox.”

“If you’re okay with it I’ll send a photo to Ruby for her approval?”

“Uh, better on the group chat, the food people might want to put extra details on there and I was thinking about asking Lexington if we could use the conservatory in case it rains. That way we can have a garden or indoor party easily.”

“Good idea.” James added a new plain slide titled, ‘conservatory party rain’.

“And I wondered about an easter egg hunt. If you find an egg, you put your name on it and then you enter it into a raffle. Winner wins champagne or something.”

“Yeah. I can see that working. Where would we get the prize?”

“If you could design a fancy label, maybe we could re-label some champagne or something. Make it one of a kind.”

James nodded. He’d been forced to endure many events with some of these parents; they love the challenge of something they can’t buy. Rumour had it one of them bought a jar of honey for fifteen thousand pounds at a Tory charity gala. “That’ll do it. I’ll get on that. We have some easter eggs at my house from past Easter parties. I’ll ask the housekeeper if we can borrow those.”

Rutherford glanced at his watch, “I’ve gotta go, but it was good chatting with you, Beaufort.”

James stuck out his hand, “James. Thank you for being so decent about all this...” He made a vague gesture with his other hand.

Rutherford shook his hand, “Kieran.”

A few days later:

(Callum is an OC, and Percy (and an SUV) are assigned to chauffeur the Bells and Beauforts around while the twins stay with them. Mortimer sees it as a way of keeping them supervised, but not underfoot.)

James bit back a cringe as he watched Kieran present his and James’ party ideas to Ruby, (the whole committee was present, but he talked to Ruby as if they weren’t) desperate for a ‘good boy’ and a pat on the head or something. Pathetic.

When Ruby stood up, she thanked him ’so much’ for working with James on this, and how wonderful it was to have such ‘a cohesive committee working forward’ - or something like that. James was focussed on the way Rutherford was looking at her, like she was the only thing that mattered in the whole world.

James knew on some level that Kieran Rutherford was somewhat of a decent bloke. Just one with an insane crush on his girlfriend. And it was starting to irritate him.

He felt Harriet pawing at his ankle, “she verbally eviscerated you at Oxford,” she hissed, “keep it to yourself.”

‘Amazing how much you sound like him, like your father’, James realised Ruby was right; that was probably how his father would have dealt with it.

…

When Percy dropped Ruby and the twins back at the Bells, James got out of the back seat and slid into the front passenger seat. Percy regarded him calmly; he always spoke second.

“Percy. Could you give me some advice?”

Percy undid his seatbelt and shifted to fully face James, “Certainly, Sir.”

”There’s a boy on the events committee who clearly fancies Ruby. And, I’m… struggling to watch them interact.”

“You feel jealous when he talks to Ruby?” Percy clarified.

Jealousy sounded childish to James. Straight out of one of those awful romance books Lydia used to read. But, he realised that was exactly it. Jealousy. He nodded.

“What do you need my advice on?” Percy wasn’t sure if James needed any more advice;  sometimes as a kid he just needed help identifying what he was feeling and then he’d work it out himself.

“Last time, with someone else, I lashed out, and…” He didn’t want to admit it, but if he could admit it to anyone, it was Percy, “Ruby said I sounded like dad.” He looked at the textured dials as he held his head in shame.

“Communication is the foundation of any relationship. You each need to communicate your feelings and be vulnerable with each-other. Tell her how you’re feeling, but be mindful that the committee is an obligation to her, and he might be too.”

James reflected on the interactions he’d seen between Ruby and Rutherford. “I’ve never seen her reciprocate. She’s pretty closed off around him.” The more James thought, he realised Percy was probably right. The logical conclusion was that James didn’t have anything to be jealous about, but… ugh, it’s still there. Just a bit.

“Sir, have you officially asked her to be your girlfriend yet?”

James frowned and looked at Percy as if it was a forgone conclusion that she was.

Percy smiled softly. “Ask her.”

James nodded to himself. He could do that. He’d get her flowers too; he’d seen how happy that one rose made her. Angus had too. “Should I ask her father before?”

“Before you marry her, Sir.” Percy was really doing his best not to laugh, but the way James flushed really tested him.

…

James bought some flowers on his way back from his next run with Callum. Angus gave him a knowing look as he crept into the kitchen with the bouquet. 

“These are for Ruby. Where can I hide them while I shower?”

“There’s a vase in that cabinet,” Angus pointed to a cabinet. When James put it down on the counter Angus had a pair of scissors. “Giving a woman flowers like this,” he tugged at the wrapping paper, “is giving her a task. Giving them flowers in a vase means she just has to enjoy them.”

He proceeded to teach James how to cut and arrange flowers in a vase, making sure to add the plant food sachet to the water. “As for hiding them, you can put them in our bedroom for a while with the door closed.”

“Thank you.” He hadn’t even thought about the ‘giving her a task’ bit. Now he knew Ruby would ‘only have to enjoy them’ he was looking forward to asking her even more.

He ran upstairs and placed the vase just inside the doorframe of Helen and Angus’ bedroom before heading to the bathroom.

…

“Ruby”

Ruby and Gunnar both looked up from her manga to see James in her bedroom doorway, hiding something behind his back, it was cute.

All the practice James had definitely not done in the shower left him. He came to stand right next to the bed, stalling for time.

“I haven’t done this before, so I wanted to make sure we’re on the same page.” He saw Ruby’s brows furrow and quickly held the flowers out for her before she got the wrong idea, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Ruby’s face was frozen in a delightfully surprised, open-mouthed smile, “Yes!” She set the flowers on the bedside table and hugged him tightly. James hooked his chin over her head and breathed in deeply, glad it had gone well. Would have been a bit awkward if it hadn’t. He saw Harriet and Gunnar curling up together on the bed and sighed as the extra feeling of intimacy washed over him.

…

“Ruby, can I ask you something?”

She gave him a look which screamed ‘you just did.’

“Is there, or has there ever been anything between you and Kieran? I’ve seen the way he talks to you, and while I’ve never seen you reciprocate… I just wondered…”

Ruby shook her head easily, “No. Nothing between us, I know he’s got a crush on me but hasn’t made any moves and I’m not interested in him. He’ll get the message, especially with you around.”

James was surprised that that was good enough for him. ‘Guess Percy was spot on on both accounts.’ He thought to himself. Harriet only moved her head in a way that said ‘told you so’.