#I may start drinking box wine

[lphaneuf]

This.

Dinner in summer.

[milksnake-tea]

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: how they are in a vampire au ❀ ˎˊ- characters: blade, dan heng, dan feng, march 7th, himeko, jingliu, jing yuan, kafka, luocha, sampo, caelus, stelle, yaoshi ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: lots of mentions of blood and wounds, the typical vampire stuff, talks about scents, usage of the word "feeding", intended lowercase, mentions of alcohol in kafka's part, caelus/stelle may be ooc :| ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: NEVER REALLY ANNOUNCED IT BUT YAHOO HERE U GO !!! THE WINNER OF THE POLL WAS VAMPIRES, SO LETS GO ITS BITING TIME HEHE <3 different format bc damn thats a lot of characters i dont have banners for... also first time writing them women so scratches head sorry if it's ooc teehee i tried

vampire!blade, whose bloodlust runs deeper than most. his desires drive him to the brink of insanity at the slightest whiff of blood, the former human despising the animalistic tendencies that now governed his existence. with his enemies, he is content to lick their blood from his face, finding no remorse in the blood of the dead. but when he dares to drink from you, he is gentle - cautious. always his eyes are watching your own, especially before he sinks his teeth into the crook of your neck. for blade is prone to losing himself in the taste of you, and he fears he may go too far.

vampire!dan heng, who despises his species more than any hunter out there. he longs for the normality and companionship of humanity, and often hides his vampiric traits in public as to masquerade as a human. the only time he'll satiate his desire for blood is when he's on death's door; and even then he'll only settle for blood bags at the dead of night, away from any of the eyes of his fellow trailblazers. when the time comes and you offer your blood to him, dan heng is reluctant, hesitant. never in his life has he fed on another, and you can feel his inexperience in how he cautiously sinks his fangs into your skin - opting to kiss your wrist rather than your neck, just in case he lost control.

vampire!dan feng, who will outright refuse blood that he deems to be unsatisfactory to his palate. even if his dietary needs are considered monstrous by other species, that doesn't mean that he himself needs to be barbaric. dan feng treats blood as he would wine - like a delicacy, only to be partaken on occasion. but all of that is thrown out the window once he tastes you for the first time. when dan feng drinks your blood, he does it with the tenderness of a lover. always, he keeps you against a comfortable surface such as a bed or a sofa as his lips latch onto your neck, taking his time as he savors you like a fine dish.

vampire!march 7th, who never really questioned why she needed to drink blood to survive, and always deemed it as normal. although, she doesn't really consider it cute, claiming that it "ruins her cute-girl aesthetic". as such, she won't talk about it unless you start the conversation first, preferring to disguise her blood intake in the juice boxes she keeps around. even when she does drink from you, it's in small sips, a mere nip before she's off to doing something more fun. don't take it personally, march just isn't fond of drinking from another person. she appreciates you offering, though!

vampire!himeko, whose taste is questionable, even for a vampire. for a second, you thought that her horrendous taste in coffee came from her background, but no, it's just himeko being himeko. unlike her other companions, himeko isn't ashamed of her needs. if she needs blood, she beckons you from across the parlor car, taking your arm in her hand as she gently bites your wrist. there's something playful in the way she drinks - she's gentle, yet doesn't treat you as though you're made of glass, a soft giggle leaving her lips as she licks the wound on your wrist.

vampire!jingliu, who makes sure you understand just what you're getting into when you offer your blood. it's hard enough to keep both her mara and her bloodlust at bay around you, and even harder to control herself when you're so willing to help her. time and time again she warns you, saying that she may not be able to control herself once she gets a taste. but if you're strong and brave enough to feed her despite the dangers, then brace yourself, for jingliu won't stop until she's fully satiated.

vampire!jing yuan, who loves to nip at your fingers playfully, flashing his fangs whenever he can. honestly, jing yuan's the type of person to forget he's a vampire until the time comes and he needs to feed - and even then, it's more of an inconvenience to him than anything else. but that won't stop him from messing with you, after all, he loves the disgruntled face you make whenever he pretends to snap at you. however, when jing yuan does drink from you, he prefers to take it from the back, hugging you from behind as he languidly drinks from your shoulder - making sure the process is as painless as possible.

vampire!kafka, who teases you when you first find out of her species. are you afraid of her now? how cute, but really, there's no need to be afraid. she wouldn't hurt you, not intentionally, at least. kafka can't help but laugh as you playfully hit her for her words. can you blame her, though, when your reactions are just that endearing? kafka isn't one to take blood directly from the source, instead, she prefers to drink it in a wine glass, mixed with some sort of alcohol to really amp up the effects. having both wine and blood in one drink can be quite intoxicating to a vampire, but kafka wouldn't be kafka if she were afraid of the after effects.

vampire!luocha, who becomes addicted to your blood the second he tastes it. over his lifetime, luocha has tasted the blood of many, each with their own flavors - ranging from savory to sweet to downright disgusting. but with you, the drinking of blood is less so a matter of feeding, but rather an intimate act between lovers. he is tender as his lips latch onto your neck, his arms wrapped around you and hands massaging you to ease you through the process. and through it all, his eyes forever hold your gaze as he tastes heaven once again.

vampire!caelus, whose inexperience often makes him dangerous. caelus doesn't know how to deal with his urges, nor does he understand why a hunger builds up within him whenever he sees an exposed patch of your skin. he's a sweet guy, no doubt about it, it's just that he doesn't know how to stop. it's up to you to guide him and tell him when to stop, for caelus is young, and doesn't understand the durability of the human body compared to a vampire. but he's willing to learn, even if it means driving off his own needs in favor of yours. the last thing he wants to do is to hurt you, after all.

vampire!stelle, who nuzzles up to you whenever she feels the slightest thirst for blood. like caelus, stelle has no idea what she's feeling nor how to deal with it. when she starts getting hungry, she becomes clingy - she starts hanging around you more, often staring at you and leaving you to wonder just what it is she wants. it's only when she starts tugging at your sleeve that you realize that she's hungry. when stelle drinks, it's... well, it's not as unhinged as caelus, but she still lacks the control as he does, and you have to tap her head to snap her out of it. but when she's done drinking, you can't help but coo at her adorable face, like a kitten full of soup.

vampire!yaoshi, who prefers to give their blood rather than drink it. they would hate to put anyone in danger, after all. but alas, their instincts won't disappear, even after their ascension to aeonhood. ironic, isn't it? the giver and sustainer of eternal life is also the same one who drains that life. when they feed from you, they prefer to have you in their arms as they do, your back pressed against their chest as they drink. they whisper sweet nothings each time they rise from your skin, their tongue licking at your wound to soothe you. but it never hurts when it's with yaoshi - perhaps it's the dew from yaoshi's trees that numbs you, or the poison in their tail. if anything, you feel as though you are in a hazy dream, not yet asleep, yet not quite awake either.

[floralcyanide]

― ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴊᴀᴠɪ

After realizing you've had enough of being single, you decide to branch out further into your romantic life on a whim. What you don't expect is to meet someone as a result. or ; In which you converse in letters and phone calls with Javi Rivera, an active-duty military man.

part two

↝ pairing: Javier "Javi" Rivera / Fem!Reader

↝ warnings: long distance, reader has anxiety, kinda slow burn?, kissing, mentions of death

↝ word count: 5.3k

↝ author's note: I enjoyed writing this so much. this is the first time I've written something this long in a while. I hope ya'll enjoy! there will definitely be a part two and it's gonna be spicy so be prepared. (;

masterlist ⋇ divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Your dating life has reached a new low. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge- none of them work for you despite your incessant attempts. It’s so bad that your friends have set you up on blind dates, all of which fail or turn into what people like to call situationships. You end up wasting your time on someone thinking it’s going great, and then suddenly, it ends in a fiery crash or sometimes plain old rejection. You’re so tired of dating. Even your university campus has no luck in the dating pool. But then, one night (after drinking too much box wine and scrolling through dating apps begrudgingly), your best friend has an idea.

“Have you ever like, dated long distance?” they ask, swirling their wine around their glass.

“Not really,” you shrug, taking a sip from yours, “I feel like it’d be harder than dating someone close by, which is already a lot.”

“True,” they sigh, “Ooh! Maybe use one of those pen pal apps?” 

“Pen pal apps?” you raise an eyebrow, locking your phone before tossing it on the couch in disgust, “What am I, nine years old?”

Your best friend rolls their eyes, “It’s not something just kids do, you know. A lot of people make genuine connections through letters. It’s a lot better than Tinder or some shitty dating app at this point. You may as well try.”

“I guess you’re right,” you glance down at your phone, “I’m running out of options here.”

After Googling and scrolling through search results, you hum, “Maybe I could do one of the military pen pal programs. That seems promising.”

“Yes! Get you a military man!” your best friend squeals, and you can’t help the giddy smile that grows on your lips.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” you say, and your best friend shakes your shoulder excitedly, “But if it doesn’t work out, I’m just going to die alone, I guess. At this point, it’s less stressful.”

Your best friend snorts, “If we make it to thirty and we’re both still single, we could get married.”

“I love you, but if I had to spend the rest of my life with you, I’d probably go insane.”

“You have some killer jokes, kid. You’re already stuck with me, so sorry.”

That following day, you do a deep dive into all things pen-palling. You decide to sit down at your desk and type up a letter, but it feels too wrong like it needs to be handwritten instead. So, you move your laptop aside, pull out some notebook paper and a pencil, and start your first letter. Except, you aren’t sure what to say first. Then, when you start writing, your handwriting annoys you, and after that, you think your tone is off. You end up scrapping half a tree by the time you start actually writing a decent letter. You introduce yourself and state where you’re from, explaining you’re in college and what you wish to do after graduating. You don’t dive into too much detail but give enough away so your possible pen pal has something to respond to. You also sprinkle in some questions for them to answer as well. You reread your letter, finally satisfied with what you’ve written, before folding it and sliding it into an envelope. You go back to your phone to see where to send the letter, writing down the location along with your name and address on the front.

Life goes on for a little while, and you actually forget you sent a letter to some random person in the military until one day, your best friend is sifting through the mail you tossed onto your counter.

“Uhh, what’s this?” they call out from the kitchen as you surf through Netflix in the living room.

“What’s what?”

“You got a letter from some dude named Javier?” your best friend says it as more of a question than a statement.

You scrunch up your nose and eyebrows in confusion before finally settling on a show you and your best friend have seen a million times already, walking into the kitchen.

“Let me see.”

Your best friend hands over the letter, and you scan the envelope carefully. Javier Rivera. It doesn’t sound familiar to you, but then you notice where the letter is from.

“Oh shit,” you flip the envelope over and tear it open.

“What is it?”

“It’s the pen pal thing!” you say, voice raised in shock, “I didn’t think someone would actually respond.”

“Oh yeah,” your best friend nods, “I forgot about that. I figured you chickened out on it because you never mentioned it again.”

“I didn’t chicken out,” you trail off, taking in the meticulous handwriting of the letter.

Dearest Pen Pal,

Thank you for sending your letter. I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much it meant to me to receive it. I’m Javier, but everyone calls me Javi. I’m the same age as you and have been to college myself. I joined the military for personal reasons, but I haven’t regretted it yet. Your career path seems interesting, and I hope you succeed in the rest of your studies. 

Your best friend hovers over your shoulder, also reading the letter.

“He seems cute,” your best friend giggles.

Javi answers some of your random questions and goes on to say he anticipates your next letter. He also says that if you’d like, he’d send a photo of himself next time. Your best friend has a field day with that.

“Oh my gosh! What if he’s hot?” they gasp.

“Who knows? I wouldn’t care if he wasn’t, anyway. It’s cool to talk to someone I’ve never met over letters.”

“True. But bonus points if he is hot.”

You scoff as you fold the letter up and put it back in the envelope.

When your best friend leaves later on, you immediately bolt to your desk and write your letter. 

Dear Javi,

I’m glad my letter found you well. Thanks for the hope in me, I definitely need it. College is fun, but it’s super exhausting. I don’t think I asked in my last letter, but where are you from? Also, what did you major in while in school? I’d love to see what you look like and put a face to your name. What military branch are you in, and what do you want to do with your experience when you’re back in the States? Sorry for all the questions again! I’m just super curious about things. If this letter reaches you sooner than later this time around, I hope you have a great Thanksgiving.

You wrap up your letter, albeit a little shorter than the last one, and slip it into your mailbox ASAP. This time, you won’t forget you sent it.

When the following letter arrives, it’s early December. You hastily remove your scarf, coat, and wet snow boots at your front door before opening the letter immediately. When you pull the letter from the envelope, a photo falls onto the floor. You pick it up, and it’s a small picture of who you assume is Javi, all decked out in his military uniform. Okay, your best friend was right on the money, he is pretty cute.

Dearest Pen Pal,

I had a decent Thanksgiving. I hope yours was better than mine! I’m from Miami, Florida. I went to school in Muskogee, Oklahoma, and while I was there, I studied weather phenomena and chased storms. It was a whole thing, but I’ll get into that later. And I don’t mind all the questions. I think it’ll be fun getting to know each other. 

Javi explains what branch he’s in and also admits he doesn’t know what he’s going to do after the military as of yet. He talks about his Thanksgiving and wishes you a Merry Christmas if he doesn’t get to communicate with you before then. You decide to send a photo of yourself back to him, digging out your Polaroid camera when you go to your bedroom to respond to his letter. You touch up your makeup a little and make sure your hair isn’t absolutely a mess before taking a photo. Sitting down to write your letter, you aren’t sure how to react to the photo Javi sent. You don’t want to be weird, but you also want him to know that you think he’s attractive. 

Dear Javi,

I love the photo you sent, and you look pretty dapper in your uniform. I’m sending a picture of myself, too. Chasing storms sounds very interesting. Please tell me more about that! 

You rattle off some things you have done while in school, talking about the places you have traveled to over the years and the people you’ve met. You gush about your best friend, especially. 

So far, you’re probably the most intriguing person I’ve talked to, Javi. Not everyone can say they’re a storm chaser, you add. 

You polish off your letter, which ends up being two pages long (three if you count the back on the first page, too.) You neatly fold up the paper and slide it into an envelope. You don’t expect a reply until New Year because of the amount of mail that will be coming in and out of the base. Javi is stationed on the other side of the country from you and may be moved out of the country if needed. 

As you expected, it isn’t until a month and a half later that you receive a letter from Javi again. It’s a long letter- a few pages total this time. The letter is in a Christmas card, and it’s signed by Javi. You immediately hang the card on your refrigerator door so you can look at it daily. He talks about how his holidays went, how all the guys on his base called home or were able to FaceTime their family. Javi asks how your holidays have gone and showers you with compliments over the photo you sent him. You can’t help but feel your stomach flutter at his words. 

Over the next few months, you and Javi write back and forth diligently. You know just about everything about Javi, and he knows almost everything about you. You feel like there’s something he’s keeping from you, possibly the storm chasing he had brought up, but you don’t push it. He will tell you when he’s ready. And there’s also some stuff about your life you’d rather wait to explain as well. In your last letter, you wrote your email and phone number so that Javi can communicate with you in other ways. You’re able to guess how long it takes the letters to get to Javi, so around the time you expect them to get to him, you’re giddy. You anxiously await a phone call or email any day now.

It’s August when your phone rings with a call from an unknown number. You have had such a long day- school for several hours, then work immediately after in the evening. You can’t help but wonder who could be calling at 9 pm. You make yourself comfy on the couch with your favorite beverage before answering the phone.

“Hello?” 

“Hi, it’s Javi. Is this the right number?”

You nearly choke on your sip of drink, “Oh shit. Hi! Yes, this is the right number!”

Javi laughs from the other end, and you decide you want to hear that laugh again so badly. 

“Sorry I’m calling so late over there. The phone was surprisingly available, and I got your letter today saying I could call. So I did,” Javi said.

“It’s okay,” you shrug, even though he can’t see, “I just got home from work, actually. So perfect timing.”

“Great. How was your day?”

The two of you spend about an hour on the phone, relishing having an actual conversation in real time.

“I’m so glad to finally hear your voice,” Javi says after a natural pause in conversation, “That’s not too cheesy, right?”

You snort, “It kind of is, but it’s cute. I’m glad to hear your voice, too.”

After another ten minutes, Javi sadly admits that he has to hang up since it’s almost dinner time where he is. 

“We should talk again sometime if you’re able to,” you smile, biting at your fingernail nervously.

You hope he calls again, but letters will always suffice just fine.

“I’ll try my best. Maybe sometime next week?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you say, pulling the phone away from your ear so you can silently kick your feet in excitement.

“Alright, then. Talk to you later,” Javi says.

“See ya,” you grin, and the call concludes.

It isn’t the following week that he calls, but the week after that. Javi discloses that he sent a surprise in the letter he just mailed. He also slips up and says it’s almost his birthday, and you immediately have an idea. After your long conversation on the phone, asking some questions here and there about certain things he likes that you didn’t already know before, you decide to send Javi a package.

You send a postcard from your home state, some non-perishable snacks, socks that were his favorite color that he could wear when not on base, notebooks he could write letters in, some fun pens to go with the notebooks, and a birthday card. After signing it, you leave a lip print on the card just to test the waters. You’ve come to really like Javi over the last year, and you wonder if he likes you back. Sometimes, he’ll be flirty in letters or over the phone, but nothing too crazy. Nothing that gives you alarm bells that he likes you in the way that you like him. So, you’re taking a leap of faith. 

A few weeks after sending the package, you get Javi's phone call while doing some class work at your desk. You spin around in the chair aimlessly as you answer the phone.

“A kiss, huh? That’s cute.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little something to remind you of me,” you say.

“It’s definitely not nothing,” Javi teases, “I think you want to kiss me.”

 Your ears grow hot at the sound of Javi’s voice deepening in playfulness.

“And so what if I do? There’s nothing you can do about it,” you bite back with just as much playfulness.

“Are you sure about that?” Javi says, a knowing lilt in his voice.

“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, stopping the chair from spinning entirely so you can focus.

“I’m most likely coming home for Christmas this year, but I still have to work out some stuff,” Javi says, an edge of excitement in his voice, “I’d like to possibly see you.”

“Oh,” you say, your voice squeaking, “Really? You want to see me?”

“Of course I wanna see you,” Javi chuckles, “We’ve been corresponding for a while. I’d like to finally see you in person.”

You suddenly feel like you’re going to throw up, but in a good way. You’re sick with nervous excitement. 

“O-okay,” you grin, “I’ll be finished with the semester at the beginning of December. Depending on when and where you want to meet, I can ask off from work.”

Javi has family not too far from where you live, and he wants to stop and see, so the two of you agree to meet in a city that’s basically halfway. December 20th is the day you’re supposed to meet Javi after a year of conversing through letters and over the phone. Who would have thought, right? That some random idea from your best friend would have led you here? Speaking of which, your best friend is beside themselves with excitement just like you. You called them immediately after hanging up with Javi.

“When you get married, make sure to thank me!” they say half-jokingly.

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes, trying to stifle a grin, “What if we don’t like each other when we meet, though? What if it’s awkward? What if we don’t have anything to talk about? What if-”

“Hush!” your best friend shushes you, “It will go fine. It will go great. In fact, you’re going to have a splendid time.”

“I guess you’re right,” you sigh, eyeballing the photo of Javi you have pinned to your corkboard over your desk.

“I’m always right,” your best friend giggles.

It’s now the end of your semester, and you’re beyond excited for a few reasons. In a week, you meet Javi, and this coming Spring semester is your last. So, for the time being, you’ll be finished with college. You come home from your final exam and start making a packing list. You’re staying at a hotel in the city where you’re meeting Javi for a day or two, depending on how things go. You have so much to do before going on the mini trip that if you didn’t have a list planned out for everything, your head would surely fly off your shoulders. You have to wrap gifts for your friends and family, pack your bag, clean your apartment, and put up decorations for the party you and your best friend are throwing for Christmas. 

Deciding to surprise Javi, you get him a gift for Christmas. It’s a wool sweater you think will fit nicely and a beautiful, deep color that you figure will compliment his skin tone. You carefully put the sweater in a robe box, taping the sides shut and signing your name on the tag before putting it under the Christmas tree. You managed to put up the large tree by your lonesome and didn’t kill yourself doing it, so you considered it a win. After wrapping a few more gifts and stuffing them under your tree, you check the time. It’s a little past dinnertime, and you decide it’s probably best to finally pack your bag for tomorrow. 

A melatonin gummy is definitely in your future so you can get some sleep, or else you’ll toss and turn in an anxious fit all night. After finishing up packing as lightly as you can muster, you settle into bed. When you wake in the morning, you get a text from an unknown number, which you assume is from Javi’s cell, letting you know he is getting on his flight. You almost quite literally jump out of bed before hitting the shower and getting ready. You take your time fixing your hair and makeup, picking out a cute but comfortable outfit for your 2-hour drive. 

After getting your belongings and the gift inside your car, you shoot your best friend a text letting them know you’re leaving your apartment and that you’ll text when you get to the airport. Taking a few deep breaths, you crank your car and head off. You are deep in your thoughts the entire ride, not evening singing along to your music most of the time. What if Javi decides he isn’t impressed by what he sees? You try to push away your anxiety as you near the airport. Finding parking after circling around for a while, you hurry to grab the gift and go inside. It’s hectic, considering it’s five days until Christmas, but you get through TSA without a hitch. You find the coffee shop where you and Javi agreed to meet and sit at a table in the corner. You scroll through social media, trying not to panic. You text back and forth with your best friend for a while until you receive a message from Javi saying he’s landed. Suddenly, an icy, numbing nervousness runs through your veins. You take a deep breath and tell yourself it will be okay, and everything will be fine. 

You decide to meet Javi at his gate and return to the coffee shop. Getting up from your seat, you shake yourself off a little before walking to the gate where Javi is to exit his flight. You aimlessly check your phone every five minutes out of anxiety. People start to leave from the corridor, dragging their carry-ons with them. Suddenly, you spot Javi walking out with the crowd, his face turned downward at his phone. When he looks up, he has to do a double-take when he sees you. You can’t help the grin that plasters your face.

“Hi,” Javi grins back as he approaches you, taking in your appearance fully for the first time, “Is it okay if I hug you?”

“You don't have to ask, silly,” you roll your eyes playfully, setting the gift by your feet before allowing Javi to pull you into him.

You wrap your arms around him, your nose buried in his shoulder. He’s dressed in his uniform, much to your delight, meaning you get to see how handsome he looks in person. 

“Don’t tell me that’s for me,” Javi gives you a jokingly dissatisfied look when he pulls away from you, his eyes darting to the gift beside you. 

“Would you kill me if it was?” you say, picking it up and handing it to him.

“Nah,” Javi waves you off, leaning down to dig in his carry-on for something, “Besides, I got you something, too.”

“Javi,” you drag out his name in annoyance, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did. It’s Christmas,” Javi smiles, secretly enjoying how you say his name in person.

You both go to baggage claim and the coffee shop before opening your gifts. You and Javi match each others’ stride, your hands accidentally brushing against one another a few times. Finally, Javi decides to throw caution to the wind and grabs your hand, sliding his fingers between yours. You glance down before smiling at him, trying to hide how giddy you are from the simple gesture. When you arrive at the coffee shop, you sit in the same corner you were previously in and settle in your seats.

“So,” Javi slides his gift over to you, pulling his toward him, “What’d you get me?”

“Why don’t you open it and see?” you lean over the table in wait, your smile from earlier still not quite leaving your lips.

“That I will do,” Javi says, carefully opening his gift.

“This is a lovely color,” he pulls the sweater out and fully takes it in, “Very soft. You did a great job because I love sweaters.”

“I’m glad you love it,” you sink into your seat with relief.

“Now, open yours,” Javi pushes your gift in your direction with a single finger. 

“Is it going to explode in my face?” you joke as you pull the wrapping off.

“I swear it won’t,” Javi laughs.

You open the box to reveal a beautiful necklace with your birthstone dangling from the chain. 

“This looks expensive, Javi. Please tell me you didn’t spend an arm and a leg on this,” you gasp.

“No promises,” Javi shrugs, getting up from his seat and walking behind you, holding out a hand for the necklace, “May I?”

You gently place the jewelry into his palm, lifting your hair so Javi can put the necklace around your neck. His fingers brush your skin lightly as he clasps the chain successfully, “There we go.”

Javi sits and admires how the necklace falls onto your collarbone with a glimmer in his eyes, “Looks beautiful on you.”

You’re nearly this close to being on the floor, curled into an inconsolable ball. Instead of doing that, you cover your face in embarrassment. 

“Gosh, thank you for the gift, Javi,” you move your hands from your face, “I wasn’t expecting something so stunning. I would’ve gotten you something slightly better if I had known.”

“You can’t sit here and tell me this wool sweater wasn’t pricey enough. It’s okay, you know. Besides, I like giving gifts I know someone will love; the price doesn’t matter.”

You sigh, shaking your head with a smile and resting your chin on your fist, “Whatever you say, Javi.”

Javi mimics your position but reaches his other hand out to wrap it around your wrist gently, “I love it when you say my name.”

You stare at each other momentarily, just taking each other in. It had been a year of wondering what Javi was like in person- how tall he was, how he smelled, how he carried himself. You realize he has a million freckles on his face that you never noticed in the photos he sent. Javi brushes his thumb over your pulse point, and you’re close to losing your composure. You’re both so wrapped up in drinking each other in that you nearly jump out of your skin when the barista calls someone’s name for their order.

You compose yourself, but Javi lightly chuckles at your facial expression.

“I’m super awkward sometimes, but you know that already,” you try to joke about the situation instead of dying of shyness. 

“It’s okay, I think it’s cute.”

“You’re going to make me turn into a puddle if you don’t stop,” you cover your face again, the tips of your ears burning.

Javi just laughs again. You realize his laugh is better in person than over the phone.

Over your order of coffee and iced tea, you and Javi decide to have a proper dinner later on in the day. Both of you are pretty tired and would appreciate refreshing yourselves at your respective hotels first. You hold hands again while exiting the airport and offer Javi a ride to where he’s staying.

“It’s just a walk down the block. I’ll be fine.”

“But it’s cold,” you frown.

“I’ll live, I promise.” Javi pulls your head to his chest before planting a kiss on the top of it.

Your body grows warm at the endearing gesture, “See you later?’

“See you later,” Javi smiles before making his way out of the parking garage.

You immediately call your best friend when you get in the car and discuss how the initial meeting went while on your way to the hotel.

“Did you kiss?!” they squeal.

“Not yet,” you say, “I don’t expect anything to happen today. We held hands, though.”

“Spicy!” your best friend says, “Next thing you know, you’ll be having kids.”

“Will you ever be quiet?” you jokingly ask your best friend.

You take a well-needed nap after checking into the hotel, setting an alarm for an hour from the time you laid down. When you wake up, you notice it’s snowing outside. The place Javi wants to take you is a few blocks away from his and your hotels, and you figure you’ll enjoy the snow during your walk.

You fix your makeup a little and add some final touches here and there to your face and hair before deciding on one of the skirts you brought. A thick sweater and some tights are thrown with it, and you’re ready to go. Javi shoots you a message asking if you’re ready, and you respond quickly before leaving the hotel. The evening is pleasant, with the snow falling softly for the entire duration of your walk. When you arrive at the restaurant, Javi is waiting for you at the door, as handsome as ever in some black slacks, a dress shirt, and a heavy petticoat draped over his shoulders. He wraps an arm around you as you both enter the restaurant, where you’re immediately whisked away to a table with a nice view. Wine is ordered, and you take a moment to drink Javi in as he sits across from you. You nearly have to pinch yourself to believe this is real and actually happening.

“So,” you lean forward, hand tucked under your chin, “You never told me about your endeavors while in college. I’ve been dying to know about that storm chasing you brought up but never knew when to ask.”

Javi smiles, “Yes, it was a very wild time in my life. I don’t talk about it often. What did you want to know?”

“Why did you do it? Just curious.”

“Well, Javi clears his throat, “It was actually my best friend Kate’s idea. She had this big project that required extensive information about storms and tornadoes in particular.”

“Gotcha,” you lean back in your chair, “Ever see any scary storms?”

“We saw a few, but the scariest one was a five on the Fujita scale. It didn’t end very well for us,” Javi casts his eyes down.

“You don’t have to keep talking about it if you don’t want to,” you reach out your hand to put on top of Javi’s, sensing the topic is touchy.

“No, it’s something you need to know about me. So I’ll tell you,” he explains, “It was me, Kate, and three of our other friends, Addy, Praveen, and Jeb, working on the project together. We didn’t anticipate the tornado to be as strong as it got, and everyone but Kate and I ended up dying as a result of being caught in the storm.”

“I’m so sorry, Javi. That sounds scary and awful. I’m glad you made it through that,” you frown, and Javi meets your eyes for a moment.

“Sometimes I wonder why I’m one of the ones who survived. It bothered me a lot, so much that I decided to drop out of college and go into the military. I needed some stability in my life after that.”

“I understand,” you say, “We can talk about something else if you’d like. I know this is probably hard for you to think about.”

The rest of the evening is spent laughing over stories of Javi and his late friends and the ones he’s made in the military. You tell him wild stories of you and your best friend, some of which he couldn’t believe. After a few too many glasses of wine, the two of you decide to call it a night. 

“I had a wonderful time,” you say as Javi hooks your arm with his, and the two of you leave the restaurant.

It’s still snowing lightly, and the temperature has dropped significantly. You pull your coat closer to your chest. Javi notices and opts to wrap his arm around you, pulling you into his side to warm you. 

“I had a great time, too,” Javi grins. 

He walks you to your hotel, and you thank him for dinner. 

“Heading out in the morning?” you ask as the two of you stand outside the hotel entrance.

“Yes,” Javi says, his hands shoved into his coat pockets, “I’m seeing my aunt and uncle and then heading to Miami for my parents and sister.”

“That’s good,” you nod, “I am having a Christmas party with some friends and family in a  few days, and I’m looking forward to it.”

“Sounds fun,” Javi says, and you notice the two of you don’t really want to depart quite yet, but you must.

“You should probably get back. It’s getting cold and late,” you nudge Javi’s arm with yours.

“Yeah, I should,” he trails off, his eyes not leaving yours.

For a moment, you stare into Javi’s eyes, taking in their color and the length of his eyelashes. Before you realize it, you’re both leaning in. Javi slides his hand up your neck to cup your face, his skin warm despite the freezing air. He guides your face to his, his eyes fluttering shut as he gently presses his lips to yours. Your eyes close, too, and you allow Javi to take control of the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. When it’s time for air, you both pull away.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Javi whispers, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile.

“Same here,” you say, playing with the curls at the nape of Javi’s neck.

“I should get going,” Javi frowns, “But I will definitely keep in touch the best I can over the next few days.”

“Okay,” you say, “Enjoy your Christmas.”

Javi begins to walk away, and you turn to go inside your hotel. But then Javi pauses, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Wait, what are you doing New Year's Eve?” he asks, and you can’t help the grin that sneaks up on your face.

“Depends. What are you doing?”

“Anything with you.”

[thethirdromana]

Mem., get recipe for Mina: a food guide to Dracula Daily

Inspired by There and Snack Again (in which you eat along with the LOTR movies), this is your guide to eating and drinking along with Dracula Daily.

All under a cut because there's no way I can do this without extensive spoilers. I strongly recommend not reading this unless you already know what happens in Dracula. Also only if you're comfortable reading about alcoholic drinks - there's a lot of booze in this novel.

Let's eat!

2 May We start with the famous paprika hendl. Google "chicken paprikash" and choose whichever recipe most strikes your fancy.

3 May For breakfast, choose from mamaliga (cornmeal porridge, similar to grits), "impletata" (vânătă umplută - stuffed aubergine) or anything with more paprika in it.

4 May For dinner, Jonathan has robber steak: "bits of bacon, onion, and beef, seasoned with red pepper, and strung on sticks and roasted over the fire".

5 May Slivovitz, if you'd like it (Jonathan declines). Then, for dinner, Dracula serves up roast chicken, with some cheese, a salad and a glass or two of Tokaji wine.

6 May "A cold breakfast" for Jonathan. In Romania a cold breakfast might include boiled eggs, telemea (sheep's cheese), franzela (bread) with assorted spreads, sliced cucumber and tomatoes, and sunculita taraneasca (sliced smoked pork). Jonathan also has "an excellent supper", but doesn't tell us what that includes.

16 May Would it be too bleak if I suggested eating a symbolic Jelly Baby?

26 May A glass of wine as Quincey and Jack congratulate Arthur and drown their sorrows.

18 June There's a kind of Scottish fruit slice called "flies' graveyard". That might make a suitable snack given Renfield's meal today.

24 June I guess a gingerbread woman, for the wolves? IDK, it turns out doing this for a horror novel is a bit grim.

8 July Thankfully the internet has hundreds of ideas for spider-themed cakes so you can eat along with Renfield.

18 July The voyage of the Demeter begins! Celebrate by eating like a sailor: have some salt pork, or make ship's biscuit.

20 July Renfield has just eaten several sparrows. Provide redress by feeding birds near you, bird flu guidance permitting.

24 July Imitate the "feet-folk" from York and Leeds by drinking some tea or eating some cured herring.

10 August Lucy and Mina enjoy a "severe tea". There are lots of severe teas in Victorian literature, but few writers actually describe what's in it - e.g. the Churchman's shilling magazine, 1868, has a story with a severe tea "which implies coffee, tea, and muffins, with substantials". What are substantials? I have no idea, but that's what you should eat today.

11 August Dracula has a little nibble on Lucy. I don't suggest doing this for every vampire bite in the novel, but given this one is particularly significant, how about marking the occasion with some black pudding?

30 August No food details for a while, but in this entry, Lucy notes that she "has an appetite like a cormorant" and "Arthur says I am getting fat". Celebrate with some cake.

3 September Van Helsing has been! And surely he wouldn't have come all the way from the Netherlands empty-handed? Acknowledge his visit with some gouda or a stroopwafel.

4 September Eat some sugar, which Renfield has requested for his flies.

7 September To stay in line with what the characters actually eat and drink, have a glass of port (though ideally not if you've just given blood). But for the real spirit of the day, consider a corn-on-the-cob.

9 September Free space! Jack has "an excellent meal" but doesn't say what it is. Dig into your favourite dinner.

10 September A sip of brandy, with which Van Helsing wets Lucy's lips.

11 September The garlic flowers arrive. There's lots that you can make with wild garlic - personally, I like it in risotto.

17 September A boxful of garlic flowers arrive for Lucy every day. Time to make chicken with 40 cloves of garlic. Other options for today include more black pudding (in honour of Renfield lapping up Jack's blood) or sherry.

18 September The Zookeeper enjoys a teacake, and so shall we.

20 September No food, but the labourers have "a stiff glass of grog". This is rum diluted with water, but you could also add lemon or lime juice, sugar, and/or cinnamon.

25 September Nibble another Jelly Baby for the Bloofer Lady.

29 September A lot happens in this entry, but there's not a lot of food. There are thirsty labourers, however. Maybe have a beer?

30 September Mina makes everyone a pot of tea. Also, we don't know what they have for dinner, but they eat it at 7pm, if you'd like to time your evening meal accordingly.

1 October More tea! Since this is being gulped down by a working man, make it builder's style - strong, sweet, lots of milk.

2 October Jonathan visits the Aërated Bread Company. He only has a cup of tea, but you could have whatever you like best from their menu:

(source)

3 October Dracula forces Mina to drink his blood like "a child forcing a kitten's nose into a saucer of milk". You could either have some more black pudding, or drink a glass of milk in solidarity with Mina.

15 October The Crew of Light aren't focusing much on meals any more, but they have travelled on the Orient Express. Here's the 1887 dining car menu.

(source - I can't vouch for the accuracy of a random person on Twitter but it looks plausible)

29 October No one is thinking of food in this bit of the novel (though Mina makes yet more tea), but as they're heading to Romania, have some sarmale. These stuffed cabbage rolls are the Romanian national dish.

31 October Mina and Van Helsing have "a huge basket of provisions". Have a picnic in their honour, if it's warm enough where you are.

1 November Mina and Van Helsing have "hot soup" into which the local cooks have put an extra amount of garlic. Consider having a truly extra amount of garlic with this 44-garlic-clove soup.

7 November The Crew of Light return to Transylvania. No details of food, but in honour of their journey, I would suggest a final round of chicken paprikash, to bring us back to where it all began.

[sinnabum45]

Wright family 💕

[Image description: gray tone digital comic of Ace Attorney characters, Phoenix Wright and Trucy Wright. Page one: Trucy is 8 years old and she peaks into the kitchen to see Phonix slumped over the table with alcohol around him. He is crying and she watches from behind the wall. She moves away and starts crying, too. Text: “Daddy… Daddy is sad again…” Page two: Trucy looks up and clenches her fist with a determined look on her face. Text: “ I have to help Daddy become happy again! I will help daddy, then he won’t leave me!” She silently cheers with her arms up. Time passes and Trucy is fourteen. She is holding a wine bottle that Phoenix had hidden. Page three: Trucy looks at the bottle with sadness while Phoenix looks away feeling guilty. There are double boxes for the texts: “I’m sorry… I’m not good enough.” Page four: the comic is now fully colored. Time passes and Phoenix is putting his attorney’s badge onto his suit. Trucy is looking at him smiling. Phoenix turns to her and smiles back. Page five: Trucy hugs Phoenix with tears in her eyes. Phoenix hugs her back and is now crying. He says,” I’m sorry, Trucy… Daddy’s put you through a lot.” Page six: Phoenix and Trucy and smiling at each other with tears in their eyes. There are double bubbles with texts: “I love you.” End description.]

Links to help Palestine and other resources! 🇵🇸

[Plain text: Links to help Palestine and other resources! (palestine flag). End plain text.]

I have a lot of thoughts about the Wright family. Especially Trucy's experience being adopted suddenly after her father abandons her. I wanted to go into more detail about how the events in her life might have affect her, but that would've been very long-- I rarely see anyone bring it up (I could just not be seeing them of course). Her father abandoning her, then having to move in with a stranger (at first), then having to also live with and depend on Phoenix, who is struggling with his mental and physical health, and also being used by Kristoph and her adoptive dad in a way (making her turn in falsified evidence, help cheat for gambling, etc.). Also the fact that her mother disappeared and her bio dad literally getting murdered. There's so much more that happens to Trucy like-- BRUH give her a break 😭 I just feel like maybe these reasons are why she comes off like she has to shoulder a lot of responsibilities even though she is a child. She kind of takes on the parental role of scolding Phoenix when he drinks.

Of course, I don't blame Phoenix for struggling since he was also going through shit. I just also feel for Trucy as well 😢 Not every family is perfect, which is why I like how their family is portrayed! Even though they're struggling, they still know that they love each other and can depend on each other. It's still not fair to Trucy that she has to live/deal with the adults around her's mistakes and choices. I feel like she has a lot of trauma to unpack and heal from. I think that's also important to remember as well. Phoenix may not have been the best dad, but he tries and they love each other so much 😭🤲💕💕 I just love their dynamic. Especially how quick Phoenix just jumps into the father role 🥺

[watermelonlovershigh]

The Rated R Card Game {part 6.} (housemate!harry series)

Returning Favors {part 5.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

AN: this part took me the longest to write because i couldn't get the wording right and kept having to switch things up. this is mainly a filler chapter meaning not much happens but will be needed for context later in the series. i hope you enjoy. let me know what you think. thank you for reading.

This story contains: mentions of bisexuality, mentions of threesomes, mentions of kissing, mentions of mommy and daddy kink, mentions of sexual stuff in general, mentions of a safe word being used, fluff

{ housemate!harry - friendrry - soft!harry - au!harry }

word count- 1,977

Your friends Mave and Charlotte come over to yours and Harry's house to eat pizza, drink wine, chat, and play a very rated R card game.

Friday has finally arrived and you are filled with excitement. Your friends Mave and Charlotte are coming over to meet Harry for the first time. After spending a few hours working on your computer, you got up and started tidying around Harry's living room, which was already clean as he maintains a fairly tidy house. You took out the card game you intend to play tonight and set it on the coffee table. The only thing left is the alcohol, but Harry will be picking some up on his way home from work.

After leaving the school where he teaches at, Harry drove to a nearby shop and obtained the wine you had requested. You'd asked Charlotte and Mave about their choice of alcohol and they recommended wine to prevent themselves from getting too intoxicated by stronger spirits. Upon arriving home, Harry placed the wine bottles in the refrigerator to chill, and then hurriedly went to take a quick shower.

At approximately seven o'clock, your friends arrived at your home via Uber, as they foresaw the possibility of becoming too intoxicated to drive home later in the night. You introduced them to Harry and they formed a liking to him instantly. In a playful manner, they whispered to you that they may just steal him away from you, that's how much they liked him. Plus, attractive wise, they thought he was hot.

Harry kindly ordered a pizza to the house and the four of you gathered in the living room, indulging in the large pizza accompanied by several glasses of wine. Essentially, you all spent a delightful two hours eating, drinking, and having great conversations in the living room. Mave and Charlotte made quite the impression on Harry. They were incredibly easy to be around and had a remarkable talent for lightening the atmosphere with their jokes, especially during moments of high tension. They possessed a fearless nature and were never hesitant to speak their minds.

Once everyone was stuffed with pizza, you pick up the card game you had sat on the coffee table earlier in the day and announce, "Okay, game time."

"How does this game work exactly?" Harry asks, followed by a giggle. Yep, he was definitely tipsy.

You open the box and pull out the stack of cards. You know there's a correct way to play this game but you wanted to make up your own rules, just to spice things up. "Okay, so basically I'm gonna leave the stack of cards in the middle of the table. We'll each take turns picking a card but to make it fun, we all have to potentially answer every question, no matter who pulled it. Each card has either questions or something we must confess. If you don't feel comfortable answering one then you must take a sip of wine. Got it?"

"Seems easy enough." Charlotte exclaims with a clap of her hands.

"Hey, can I pick first?" Mave asks eagerly and you all agree.

As everyone sits around the coffee table on the floor, Mave reaches for the top card and giggles as she silently reads it. "You've got to actually read it out loud." Charlotte remarks in a sassy tone.

"Okay, okay," Mave retorts before repeating what the card says out loud this time. "Have you ever made out with a guy in the back of a car before?"

You, Mave, and Charlotte each say "yes" with confidence before stealing a glance towards Harry, hoping to gauge his response to the question. To your surprise, he appears bewildered and voices his confusion. "What kind of questions are these? I was expectin' somethin' light-hearted, not about romantic encounters," he queries.

You pick up the game's box and point to the bottom right corner where it shows the R rating. Once he notices, he mutters an, "Oh fuck!", taking a swig of his red wine for dramatic effect. "But um, yes I have."

Charlotte and Mave are surprised to learn that he's kissed a guy. Not in a judgmental way but they are genuinely shocked considering how much you confide in them about Harry's feelings for you. It seems you forgot to mention that Harry was bisexual, but then realize it's not your place to inform them of that anyways. Charlotte boldly questions Harry, "You've made out with a guy before?"

Harry nods his head in agreement and casually states, "Yes, m' bisexual. Y/n didn't inform you of that?" Though he knows one's sexuality isn't something people tend to share, he knew you shared nearly everything with these two friends so he's surprised you didn't let his sexuality slip up in a conversation before. But knowing you didn't share makes him feel all warm inside. It shows how much you care and respect him.

The woman shakes her head to indicate she was unaware. Harry typically never feels anxious about sharing his bisexuality as he finds that most individuals are accepting or simply don't care. Although he occasionally encounters negative reactions, mostly from the people he's seeing, he makes an effort to try and not allow those to affect him.

"My turn," you announce, reaching for the next card to advance the game. "Ohhh, a confession. How intriguing. Do you tend to be more dominant or submissive in bed? Mhm...... as for me, it's quite simple. I can be either, depending on my mood."

"No way," Harry interjects, "m' also a switch. Just depends on the person and the mood m' in at that moment." As you glance at one another, you can feel a secret message being conveyed through just your eyes alone. One that's saying you're meant to be. A perfect match, some would consider. Because it's rare for both people in a relationship to be dominate some times and submissive other times.

Mave and Charlotte affirm they're both complete submissives, leaving Harry to select the next card. "Tell us about the most outrageous experience you've had during a sexual encounter. Uhm, let me think on that for a moment."

"Oh, I know." Mave speaks, "For me, I'd have to say being double penetrated."

"You what?" you gasp at her answer, unaware of this encounter she's had. She usually tells you everything but you guess she's been keeping this one a secret.

With a playful giggle, she admits, "Back in uni, I had a few threesomes, and one of them involved double penetration. It was painful at first but the pleasure that followed was incredible." Her confession triggers a vivid image of you in Harry's mind, arousing him at just the thought of having a threesome with you. But he wonders if you were open to that idea.

"Personally, I tied a man to the bed once and rode him while he wore a cock ring. Although it was pleasurable for me, the man experienced tons of discomfort. So I decided to let him come after an hour." you answer the question. It wasn't super outrageous but you weren't that freaky in bed. Again, all Harry can think about is you doing that to him and at this point he has to set one of the couch pillows in his lap without looking too suspicious. He's now actually hard in his pants.

After thinking for a minute more, Harry's ready to answer. "I guess my answer would be, this one time I let a girl fuck my throat with her strap-on. Let's just say my throat was bruised for days." Fuck, now it's you conjuring up images of possibly doing that to Harry. You don't own a strap-on but you sure as hell would go out and buy one if he agrees.

Charlotte optes to taking a drink of wine instead of answering and then picks a card beings it's her turn now. "Have you ever had to use your safeword during sex? Thankfully no. What about you all?"

Harry and Mave both said no as their answer, whereas you, on the contrary, chose to take a sip of wine. You could have easily said the truth, which would have been yes, but then would've had to provide an explanation for their curious minds. And you'd prefer not to do that in front of everyone, especially as it regards the situation where you had to use your safe word. It evokes a very unpleasant memory. Nevertheless, you can see a compassionate expression on Harry's face and have a feeling he'll bring it up at a later time.

The game continues with questions like, "Where is the most unusual place you have engaged in sexual activity?" "What is your preferred sexual position?" "Have you ever accidentally called out the wrong name during sex?" "Do you secretly have a mommy or daddy kink?" Harry's responses were as follows: in a club bathroom, preferring missionary with women to see their expressions and opting for the doggy style with men, almost moaning the wrong name (which happened to be yours), and has only ever jokingly used the terms daddy or mommy if his partner was interested in that kind of stuff.

Your responses to those particular questions consisted of: the bathtub, missionary or spooning position, almost saying Harry's name but correcting yourself before it was on the verge of slipping out, (though you didn't share to them it was Harry whoms name it was), and lastly, although you're not actually into the whole kink, you've humorously said daddy once to cater to your partner's wishes. Which made you cringe so bad immediately after.

By the time eleven o'clock rolled around, all of you were considerably intoxicated. Though most of you managed to answer every question, you've still been continuously sipping from your wine glasses with multiple refills. In a drunken manner, your friends suggested, "Maybe we should call an umb... uber...."

Rising on wobbly legs, Harry retorts, "Why don't you both stay if you want? I'm sure Y/n wouldn't mind you sleepin' in her bed, and she can sleep with me in mine. That way you won't have to go home drunk." Harry is literally the sweetest.

"You sure?" Mave asks, looking at both of you for confirmation.

You nod, agreeing, "Yeah, yeah. That's fine. Just don't puke in my bed, please." remembering all the times where they've gotten sick from being too drunk.

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

With Mave and Charlotte settled in your bed, you made your way to Harry's room across the hall. He was busy arranging the pillows and covers. Just as you were about to join him in bed, you remembered, "Wait a minute, I need to use the bathroom."

Harry bursts into laughter. "Is that so? You didn't realize that when you were in the hallway?"

"Hey, no laughing at me!" You exit the room and hurry to the bathroom located in the hallway. Upon your return, Harry is already tucked in under the duvet, with only the lamp providing a dim light. As you join him, and he reaches over to switch off the lamp.

Now in the dark bedroom, Harry shuffles closer to you for a cuddle and whispers, "You're not gonna puke in my bed are you?"

You playfully swat at his chest and confirm, "No, I'm not that drunk, silly. But I will have a killer headache in the morning. Night."

"Night, sleep tight." Harry leans in and plants a tender kiss on your lips, momentarily catching you off guard. However, you quickly embrace the intimate moment, realizing that receiving these small, affectionate kisses from him for no specific reason is something you should start getting accustomed to. After all, it's a typical aspect of being in a relationship, isn't it?

As you gradually drift off to sleep, your mind becomes consumed by the lingering sensation of Harry's lips meeting yours and the burning curiosity to discuss the explicit answers he provided during the rated R card game earlier.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

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______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

Spontaneous Pleasures {part 7.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

[ravennaortiz]

August 14th features Bottles with the prompt "Surprise!" requested by the lovely @hatersaremymotivators As always my stories are 18+

You groaned as you pulled a pillow over your head. Trying to block out the sunshine that was beaming onto your face. Rolling onto your stomach you tried to go back to sleep but finally gave up when your phone started ringing. Grabbing it you saw it was just your brother and declined as you stood up tossing the phone onto the bed. You stretched before making your way to your bathroom for a shower.

The party last night had you smelling like the clubhouse and feeling sticky. A good shower would start your birthday right. Hell you thought maybe you would take yourself into that new brunch spot in town for breakfast. Then maybe a day of shopping followed by a bottle of wine and a box of chocolates in a nice hot bath.

Making your way downstairs in just a loose tank top and thong you were confused by the smell of coffee. Shrugging it off as having somehow set it up last night when you got home you continued into the living room flipping on your stereo. While the gentle sounds of pop flowed out you made your way to the kitchen. Unable to stop the swing of your hips to the rhythm. As you bounced through the doorway you couldn’t help the scream of terror that poured out of your eyes landed on a shirtless man.

“Surprise” yelled Bottles as he turned to you smiling only for you to shriek before grabbing a mug and hurling it at his head. “I’m sorry” he yelled as he dodged the mug.

“How did you get in my house” you demanded as you steadied yourself on the counter.

“You brought me home with you last night” stated Bottles as he looked at you in confusion. “I mean technically I brought you because you were a bit to tipsy to drive. But you asked me to stay” he added as he made his way to you.

“Oh” you mumbled as you racked your brain for any sort of memory of last night. Had you drank that much? So much you wouldn’t remember bringing one of your brothers club members home and ask him to stay. “Did I…did I do or say anything else?” you asked as you finally looked at his face before looking away. You had a huge crush on Bottles and could only imagine what your drunk self had done.

Bottles chuckled, his cheeks blushing slightly as he looked away from you before replying. “Well, you may have got your hands in my pants a bit. You were quicker than I thought you would be. Then you flashed me to prove you had no panties on and shoved your tongue down my throat.” He laughed as you groaned and slid down to the floor resting your head on your knees. “That was just the car ride here” he added as he moved closer.

“I’m so sorry” you mumbled as you looked up at him. Bottles had a hint of mischief in his eyes as he looked down at you before moving one of his hands to your head making you swallow hard.

“I think I know how you could make it up to me” he whispered as he stepped forward his crotch in your face. “You do look really pretty down there”

As you reached out to palm him through his shorts you were interrupted by the voice of your brother.

“The fuck is going on here?” demanded Guero as he stood in your kitchen eyeing you and Bottles.

“I was just helping her off the floor. Too much drink last night.” Lied Bottles smoothly as he helped you up sending a wink your way.

Return to Masterlist

[tarithenurse]

The roommate - 2

Fandom: MCU. Pairing/starring: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader. Word count: 1322. Content: Major pining, slight drinking, confession, unprotected smut, [Y/N]. A/N: Couldn’t leave the first part stand alone so here’s a bit more. Please reblog and comment – it’s fuel! Unbetaed as usual.

2

The emptied boxes of the takeaway still litter the table, but you don’t pay them any mind as you’re nursing your glass of wine and listening intently to James. Bucky. You’ve never heard him speak this much before and you’re lapping it up, clinging to every word as he talks about the old days with Steve (which seems like a much too casual way to refer to Captain America), and the guys from the unit he was in: the Howling Commandos.

He isn’t talking about the missions or the danger. No, he’s telling a story about how Gabe Jones had had a crush on one of the ladies at a bar in a town they came through in France and how they’d made him confess to her.

“I guess my point is...when you know, you better go for it,” he muses.

You’ve kinda lost the thread but don’t mind to just nodding along as long as James will keep talking.

He pins you with a stare of those stormy eyes, a small smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. “So why haven’t you?”

“Why haven’t I what?” you try to catch up.

“Gone for it...with anyone?” Maybe he sees your confusion because he rushes to explain: “All the time I’ve lived here, you’ve never brought anyone home or gone to anyone.”

You shrug. “I don’t know...just haven’t...” You shrug en lieu of a better explanation. “But neither have you, so I guess I could ask you the same,” you point out.

He laughs at that. Not a big laugh, but a little half-scoff that sounds like he is all too aware of it. “Kinda hard to rejoin the dating-market at age 107 plus/minus depending on how you count the Blip years.” He takes a sip of his wine and then regards the liquid in the glass slosh as he sets it down. “Besides...I found someone but I’m not sure how to broach the subject with her.”

Something in you shatters but you quickly swipe the shards away, telling yourself that you should have known better.

Getting up and starting to collect the plates, you try to keep your voice light: “You just gotta tell her straight up. As you said...when you know you better go for it.”

You can sense your hands trembling and you’re glad for the cleaning up to hide it with.

“So just...listen, I really like you?” James says.

“Yeah, just like that.”

You’ve gathered up most and try not to run to the kitchen with it to hide. But of course James is James and as you should have expected, he grabs the rest and follows you.

Why does it even bother you? Sure, you’ve been increasingly friendly over the last year but...it’s always been platonic, right?

“[Y/N],” he says and you hum something in response. “[Y/N],” he tries again, “look at me.” You force yourself to do so and you see all of the tenderness of the man in his gaze as he repeats his words: “I really like you. You.”

“Me?”

He nods. Stepping closer, he lifts a hand to your cheek, slowly brushing the thumb along your cheekbone. Then he dips his head down and your lips almost meet but he pauses and whispers: “May I?”

“Mhm!” you whimper in acceptance, too nervous to breach the gap.

But he does. His beard scratches a bit and is a pleasant contrast to the softness of his lips and the gentle sweep of his tongue along the seam of your mouth. His left arm has snaked around your waist, pulling you closer, while the other hand tangles in your hair to tilt your head just right.

You’re out of breath when he pulls away slightly, looking down at you through heavy-lidded eyes.

Next thing you know he’s backed you up against the counter as he’s kissing you like a man starved. You’re not much more restrained yourself, responding eagerly and your hands sliding over every inch of his body you can reach before slipping up under his Henley to feel how his skin puckers at your touch.

“Careful, doll,” he mumbles, “might not be able to stop soon.”

This time you’re the one to pull back enough to look up at him. “I don’t want you to,” you admit.

His gaze darkens deliciously at your words.

It’s easy for him to push you against the counter, pinning you in place for a new onslaught of kisses that trail down your neck to your collarbones and the top of your breasts that are barely accessible if he tugs at your shirt. The shirt. Suddenly he’s pulling it over your head and you eagerly help him before mirroring his actions with him.

For a 107 year old guy he’s in excellent shape. Scratch that: he’s gorgeous. Letting your fingertips run over his chest, you see how his muscles bunch and coil as he moves to pull your leggings down so he can grab at the flesh of your ass. Big handfuls that lifts you up and next moment you’re on the counter and he’s standing before you. He pulls you to the very edge and gets rid of the leggings completely before slotting his hips between your legs which he lift to clamp around him and you’re so close that you can feel the bulge press against you.

Your hands move according to your desires, cupping him through the sweatpants and making him groan. He feels big.

“I should’ve taken you on dates first,” he manages to mutter. “Nice dinners. Really courted you.”

“There’s time for that later,” you smile, nibbling at his earlobe. “Now fuck me like you mean it.”

You only just have time to free his cock from the restraints before he’s torn your undies to shreds and pulled you so far out on the counter that you have to lean back or topple off. But he helps you, of course he does: getting your legs on his shoulders, he dives in to eat you out with gusto. His broad licks and flicks of the tip of the tongue has you moaning all too loudly after a short moment and when he growls into your pussy, the vibrations nearly send you over the edge.

“J-James,” you gasp.

He knows what you mean but he still takes his time to kiss his way up from the kneeling position. And he is slow as he runs the length of his cock between your folds, smearing it with your juices.

But then he slides in. He hasn’t prepared you so he feels massive but you take him eagerly, wanting him, needing him. Your cunt flutters around him and you’re both breathing heavily by the time he is fully seated within you. James gives you a moment before he pulls out and slides back in. He’s slow and deliberate. You can see on his face how hard it is for him to hold back like this.

“More,” you beg.

And he complies, speeding up to a deep pace that has you clinging on for dear life while you chant nonsense and your body is seizing as you cum hard, causing him to topple over as your insides clamp onto him.

“Fu-uck,” he groans, ramming as far as he can before stilling with the exception of the throbbing of his cock.

He doesn’t pull out until he’s carried you to the shower. Then he helps you undress completely and washes you down, using the lathering as an excuse for the two of you to explore each others’ bodies and getting wound up all over again.

---

His bed is a single so you’ve ended in your room, now he’s lying with you tugged into his side, an arm around your shoulders and his nose in your hair. You don’t think he’s asleep. But it feels...right. It feels good to just lie and be quiet with each other for a moment.

[irkimatsu]

I hope The con is still going well for you! You can answer this when you get back if that's easiest for you (Go have your fun!!) I'm back with another albeit much less horny request. Maybe it's that I need Keith David to lull me to sleep, maybe it's that I know deep in my heart of hearts that Husk had a Frank Sinatra Vinyl collection in his life, who knows. But I wanna see something cute and fluffy with Husk and music, maybe like Dancing around his room to My Funny Valentine, or Somethin' Stupid. Just cheesy fluff for his❤️

I'm so sorry for how long this took, but I want you to know that this prompt has been consuming my brain ever since I first saw it. I've never heard "Somethin' Stupid" before, so I went and looked it up, and oh my god I love that song for Husk. I just had to write something! Here's some fluff with Husk singing to Reader, there's dancing and confessions and god he's so cute I love him so much~

(If you've never heard the song before, I recommend you listen along once Husk starts singing it! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_t2gNCXYbY)

You may not be sure of the specifics of Husk’s feelings for you, but however deep they go, you’re grateful for the time he spends with you.

On this evening, the two of you retreated to his bedroom after dinner, to have a drink and some conversation before it’s time for him to open the bar again. You don’t often join him here, but you’ve never for an instant suspected his intentions whenever he invites you. You’re sure that he simply enjoys having one-on-one time with someone without having to worry about others asking him to serve them drinks, and that’s all.

Would you mind if his intentions ever went further than that? You try not to think about that too hard, for fear that your hopes won’t align with his.

For now, you’re happy to sit and chat with him, sipping the sweetly sour red wine he’s poured and listening to the record he’s chosen to play. He seems to have a story for every song on the record, from concerts he’s attended all over the world, to the inspirations for his own performances, to unrelated memories he just happens to associate with the playing songs for reasons even he’s not sure of.

You love every story he has to tell, but your interest is most piqued whenever he speaks of his days in various bands. You may not know what he looked like when he was alive, but you can still see him so clearly on a brightly lit Vegas stage, fingers gliding over the saxophone that he describes with just as much wistful passion that he would use for a past lover. You can see him lowering the saxophone from his lips to start singing, all irritated gravel drained from his voice as it flows through the air, warm like honey, deep timbre filling an emptiness in your gut that you didn’t realize was there before now.

“I’d love to hear you sing more,” you say as he finishes another story about his life as a performer, clearly fond of the days he spent on a stage. “You’ve got a great voice.”

“More?” he asks with a quirked eyebrow. “When have you ever heard me singing at all?”

“You sing all the time when you’re working behind the bar,” you say. “I don’t even think you notice it.”

Husk coughs slightly on the sip he was taking of his wine, but manages to swallow it down with no further incident. “Shit… you’re right, half the time I don’t notice. Cleaning glasses is just so damn tedious, you know? I gotta pass time somehow, and if I’ve got a song stuck in my head I just-”

“You don’t need to explain,” you interrupt. “With a voice like yours, you can sing any time you want. I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to hear it… I know I like hearing it.”

Husk hums thoughtfully as he takes another sip of wine. Is it just you, or are his cheeks faintly flushing from your compliment? Maybe you’re hoping for too much.

After draining his glass and gently setting it back on the table, he lifts himself up from his chair with a grunt. Without explaining himself, he heads to the box of records by the record player and starts flipping through them.

“I could… sing right now, if you want,” he offers, not looking up from the box. “I don’t get to perform much for other people anymore.”

“I’d like that,” you say as you try not to read too much into the gesture. Husk singing to you… for you… you’re sure it doesn’t mean anything and that he’s just showing off, and yet…

“Ah, here we go,” he says as he lifts a sleeve from the box. With great care, he removes the currently playing record and slips it into its own sleeve, then withdraws the new record and settles it in place. After he lowers the needle, gentle guitar strings begin emanating from the player. A few seconds into the song, he begins to sing, and you realize that there are no vocals on the record; the only voice you hear is his.

“I know I stand in line until you think you have the time to spend the evening with me…”

As he sings, he approaches you, feet stepping and tail swishing in rhythm with the song. He stops in front of you, and as the next line begins, he holds his paw out to you with a small smile.

“And if we go some place to dance, I know that there’s a chance you won’t be leaving with me…”

“Who says that I wouldn’t?” you say as you take his hand. He chuckles softly as he pulls you to your feet and resumes singing.

“Then afterwards, we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two…”

As he sings, he takes your other hand and holds both of them at chest level, his palms pressed against yours, firm claws and silky fur holding your hands in place.

“And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like ‘I love you’...”

Your heart gives a single heavy beat at those words. You can’t read too much into it, shouldn’t read too much into it- it’s not his song, he’s singing it but he didn’t write it-

But then why did he choose this song to sing for you-

Before you can spend too much time worrying about it, his claws begin skimming down your bare arms.

“I can see it in your eyes that you despise the same old lies you heard the night before…”

They trail up to where your shirt sleeves begin, then take their rest on your shoulders.

“And though it’s just a line to you, for me, it’s true, and never seemed so right before…”

Where are you supposed to put your own hands now? You end up settling them on his hips, and his wings lightly flutter in response, his expression glowing at your touch.

“I practice every day to find some clever lines to say, to make the meaning come true…”

Either one of you could pull the other closer and close the agonizing inches-wide gap between you, but you, at least, can’t find the nerve to make that move. You settle for swaying with him, allowing him to set the pace as he sings.

“But then I think I’ll wait until the evening gets late and I’m alone with you…”

Has he always been this handsome? You may have acknowledged your attraction to him months ago, but in that moment, you see him in an even brighter light than you ever have before. His golden irises shimmer as he stares at you with lidded eyes, his pupils blown wide; he hasn’t taken his gaze off you since the moment he took your hand. His mouth is curved into a small smile, and his sharp fangs do nothing to demean just how soft his expression is as he sings to you.

“The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and oh, the night’s so blue…”

He shifts his arms so that they’re under your own, palms rested on your back, and finally takes the chance to pull you closer, your chest flush with his.

“And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like ‘I love you’...”

You slide your hands from his hips to the small of his back so you can pull him closer in turn, your waists now touching.. He gasps slightly, his smile gone in favor of a look of surprise, and he stops singing. Did you distract him?

“Sorry, I-”

“Shh,” he says simply before returning to silence, swaying you in time with the music. Has the room always been this warm? No, it’s not the room- it’s him, now pressed closer to you than you ever thought possible. The smile’s returned to his features now, his gaze boring so deeply into you that no force in Hell could draw it away. He’s wearing the same cologne he always does, a woody scent that blends so right with the scents of whiskey and tobacco that always cling to his fur. You’ve always associated that scent with Husk, and standing here surrounded by that fragrance is where you’ve belonged for such a long time but never had a chance to be before now.

“The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and oh, the night’s so blue…”

He’s finally started singing again, his voice wavering more than it had the last time he sang that line. You probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t busy tuning every one of your senses into him to the exclusion of all else.

“And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like ‘I love you’...”

His breathing is slightly heavier, and you could swear you see a tear beginning to form in the corner of his eye.

“I love you… I love you…”

“I love you,” you respond in tandem with him, and before you can think, you’re pressing your mouth to his. The kiss is so fleeting, giving you barely enough time to savor the softness of his lips or the taste of wine on his breath. His eyes are wide open as you withdraw, still unable to pull away from you.

“I love you,” he sings one more time as the music fades, and follows it with a kiss of his own. His mouth is so gentle against yours as he turns his head to slot your lips together. He doesn’t move his mouth, content enough with the simple contact, though his claws do slightly grip at your shirt. His hot breaths ease into your mouth in a steady rhythm, neither of you moving an inch. Another instrumental has begun to play from the gramophone, but Husk shows no interest in singing along to it. You’re okay with that; as much as you love his voice, him continuing to sing would mean him breaking the kiss.

He makes a surprised, cattish noise as you comb your fingers through the fur on his cheeks and pull him in more firmly, but makes no move to break away from you. Warmth, scent, softness, taste; every one of your senses pleads so desperately for this moment to never end, to be permitted to indulge in him for the rest of your afterlife.

But eventually, he finally withdraws, much too soon for your heart’s liking but at a great relief to your lungs. He laughs nervously as he jerks back out of your grasp, lifting his paws off of you and drawing them closer to himself, out of your reach.

“Sorry,” he says, still trying to laugh. “Got carried away-”

You silence him by grabbing his cheeks and kissing him again, this one much more brief.

“Don’t apologize,” you say before kissing him once more. He still keeps his hands to himself, but he allows himself to enjoy the kiss for as long as you’re willing to give it.

“...I picked that song for a reason,” he admits when you finally break the kiss. “I’ve been… wanting to say something for a while.” He lifts a paw and gently caresses your cheek. “It’s just… been so long, you know? Since I’ve been with somebody. And usually when I’m with somebody, it…” He averts his eyes from you, his ears slightly drooped in shame. “...I’m not easy to handle. Never was, and I’m especially not now.” He laughs derisively. “So it really is stupid of me to think I should say I… well…” He trails off, apparently unable to get the words out when he can’t hide them in a performance.

“You should say stupid things more often,” you assure him as you wrap your arms around his neck and peck him on the nose. “I said it back, didn’t I?”

“You sure you know what you’re getting into?” Husk asks.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he laughs. The energy between the two of you is electrifying, you’re so sure he’s about to kiss you again-

Instead, he yelps in pain and jerks away from you.

“Husk?! Are you okay?!”

“It wasn’t you,” he assures you as he gently rubs at his throat. Despite the gentle tone he’s trying to use with you, you can tell by the way his ears have flattened that he’s pissed. “Just time for me to reopen the bar, that’s all.” His volume lowers as he grumbles to himself. “Someone’s gonna throw a fit if he doesn’t get his fuckin’ rye…”

“I wish we could have spent more time together,” you say. “You could have sang more… and we never finished the wine…”

“How about we pick this up later, after the bar’s closed for the night?” he says. “I wouldn’t mind having you up here more often.” He’s smiling again; it’s not a large one, but it seems you’re able to get his mind off his stressors, if only for a moment.

“It’s a date,” you say, returning his smile. You share a final kiss, much too short for your liking, and let him get back to his work.

You wonder what other “stupid” things he’ll have to tell you later.

[lilsispro]

Idk if people made W2H OCs cuz everywhere i look there like not there except for DeviantArt and 1 tumbler post (which omg I LOVE THEIR OC!! AAA SUCH A COOL CONCEPT! It was a post by @cactusdraw) which actually suprised me how little of OC are in this fandom considering the fact that it was ard the time everyone crazed abt making OCs to put into their fandom (COUGH COUGH ME COUGH COUGH.) Sooo, i figured that uhhhh i would post my OC i made a year ago that i never had the confidence to show to anyone except for my friends, they said it was a good idea to post it! That was in May- now its October 😭, so ive FINALLY built the courage to post it after 5ish months of thinking abt it, i bring to u..

Burger

Yes yes yes ik goofy name, but i like it :3 (random note but, i hate how big i drew her neck 😭 i remember trying to fix it but it looked werid so i just left it 😭)

Alright, now for lore drop for her ig!

Burger was a 16-17 year old attending Black Sheep high school, (think thats the high schools canon name-) one day she was found dead, she then went to heaven, not to long after became a fallen angel and was sent down to hell (idk if fallen angels exist- i need to ask Erica but i know shes busy but i really wanna ask in her message box in her blog 😭.) Then you know got a job to haunt people to get people down there so when hell is fully renovated it can go as one would expect.

Very basic very simple, but thats not really detailed, heres ghe detailed version bellow here instead of the basic structure: (Warning mentions of abuse, violent acts, and underage drinking)

Burger grew up in a not so stable household to say, parents were restricting, abusive, unfair, all the bad lables for crappy parents who basically to say failed at their job as a parent. So she mainly grew alone in her room learning guitar (base), and how to cook for herself and bake. She joined a band thats known around school for being cheap and decent. She also had a crush on a former band mate named Hidey. Since their band is known they have some form of social reputation around there, say in the middle of the social status of the school reputation system. One faithful day they got a commission to play at Zacks GFs party (im gonna assume he has one since hes a jock) for a few hours, they accepted. When Burger got home that day she went to go head out but then had a argument with her dad and got her guitar smashed. She ran out the house mad asf and used a near by phone booth to call her friend to get a spare guitar for her, they get the guitar and hwad to the party. They perform a few songs, everyone's happy, they get offered to stay so thru do so they dont seem rude. As Burger partied, Zacks GF dragged her to her room to speak privately, they get in the room, have a few drinks of wine after raiding the liquor cabinet a while back in the party, Zacks GF started to act a little of and before burger could say anything abt it, she gets pinned down onto the bed and gets her head slashed off. Turns out, Zacks GF had red punch looking similar to wine while she had wine,and also turns out Zacks GF hated her guts for one reason. A middle school crush on Zack. The most stupidest reason to have a grudge or kill someone over. So then she got to heaven and got a job as a guardian angel, sucked at that not even showing up to her job and instead did sinful like acts in heaven without knowing and got sent to hell becoming a fallen angel and getting a job to haunt a girl named Maria (which my friends OC) and drive her to suicide.

SO MUCH WORD OMG! But thats the detailish version of it! Maria is my friends OC like i said, she told me i could put her in so yeah. Also they dont have the best bond, simialr to socks and jons but instead of one being a joyful teasing demon, burger is a sarcastic ass, and Maria is a depressed teenager that annoyed by her demon. So basically Jonathan and Jonathan. They have some sentimental moments (AND GAY ASS MOMENTS) where they get a little connection to each other. Burgers has 2 canon connections to 2 canon characters, one with jon which is just rivals and same with sock. She basically hates their guts and constantly tries to persuaded Maria to mess with jon but failes horribly. Essentially shes a mix of Jon, Jojo, and sock in th slightest ways with the simialr characteristics/traits and the general way of acting.

Omg thats so much words i feel so bad for writing this much but ima end it off here! Also, other drawings of her

I wanna start drawing her again cuz i got the idea to put her ina a heather chandeliers costume for fun but i cant draw her hair the same way i did a while back. If i find the original drawing of her ill edit the post and pu it in! For now cya!!!

[weareapackofstrays]

A Work of Art

Genre: Non-Idol graduate school au, Strangers to lovers, Fluff

Pairing: Sangyeon x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Drinking, Mention of su!cide in reference to a painting. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 5,709 + text messages

The lecture hall is buzzing with students waiting for your professor to show up. Once he finally enters, everyone quiets down and takes a seat for the lecture. Your class only meets once a week, while the rest of the class is taught online. So when your professor announces at the end of class that everyone would be paired up per his choosing for a project you were kind of surprised. Everyone in this classroom was practically a stranger. You may have interacted with a handful of them weekly for your online discussion board homework, but you couldn’t identify a single one in the room. You can see everyone looking around wondering who they were going to be paired with. A few students making eye contact, hopeful to be partnered together. 

“Each of you will go to a museum in the area to write a minimum 1000 word essay together on the museum’s management and collection and why or why not it is successful. Partners who wish to do a presentation instead are also welcome, but you must let me know ahead of time.” Your professor pulls up the requirements on the projector to review while students snap pictures of the board with their phones. “And before you get any ideas, I will be requiring proof of your attendance, such as a ticket.” A few students groan while the professor smirks and continues. “I will email everyone tonight with your assigned partner. See you all next week!” The sound of chairs scraping the floor punctuates the end of class. Curiosity and excitement seems to fill the auditorium as everyone makes their way to the exit. 

Later that evening you open your laptop in anticipation of your Professor’s email. You could feel yourself getting antsy so you pour yourself a glass of wine. To avoid refreshing your email every few seconds, you start to pace around your living room knocking back your drink. Why were you so nervous? You ask yourself. Probably because you’re a bit of an introvert and while you do alright in social settings, the thought of having to interact with a complete stranger gives you a little anxiety. You walk up to your laptop after polishing off a third glass and refresh one last time.

Professor Moon Subject: Partner Assignment 10:00 PM 

Ungracefully collapsing into your chair, you grab hold of your mouse to click on the email. You read through your professor’s words before landing on the name Sangyeon Lee as the person you have been paired with. 

“Hmm,” you say aloud. Their name wasn’t familiar to you, not that it mattered since you had no idea who was who in your class. You're curious if they’re a man or a woman. Reading through the syllabus, you notice your professor CC’d Sangyeon as well to initiate communication. You give your neck a stretch and get to typing.

Dear Sangyeon,

Delete, delete, delete

“This isn't a formal letter, Y/n.” You pause to take a sip of your wine, swishing the cheap red in your mouth like a sommelier. Crossing your legs in your chair to get comfortable, you continue to type.

Hi Sangyeon, Congratulations!

“No, they probably won’t find that funny.”

Delete, delete, delete

You start again.

Hi Sangyeon, I’m your partner for the museum paper. My number is 285-543-2351. Feel free to text me your availability.  -Y/n

“Short and sweet.” Satisfied, you close your laptop and head to the couch to turn on the tv. Just as you are getting into the Gilmore Girls theme song, your mobile pings interrupting your slightly drunken impression of Carole King. You pick up the device and see a text message from an unknown number. You swipe the notification to respond.

“Great first impression, Y/n.” You smack your palm to your forehead. Speaking of the blessed cheap boxed wine, you look over at your kitchen counter and debate pouring another glass. What the hell, why not? You think.

After taking a shower and doing your hair, you peruse your closet wondering what to wear. Flipping through your choices you decide to keep it comfortable. You inspect your outfit in the mirror before deciding to change again. Then again. And one more time just for good measure. The nerves were starting to get to you and this was beginning to feel more like a first date than a class project. Finally, you settle on some heeled brown leather boots, a mid length jean skirt with a slit up the sides, and a light cream colored cardigan tucked in. Better to make a good first impression, you think. You’re applying some mascara when your phone chimes.

A black jeep pulls up to the curb of your apartment and you look down to your phone screen to see a here from Sangyeon. The butterflies have started to cha cha slide in your belly and you want to consider making excuses, but instead your shaky hands send Sangyeon a quick text that you’ll be down in a moment. After making sure everything is off then checking it twice and thrice, you take one last look in the mirror before leaving.

As you approach the jeep, Sangyeon opens his door and pops out. You stop dead in your tracks as your eyes process the gorgeous stranger in front of you. You suddenly feel like you're in a drama as a warm breeze blows through his brown hair. He flips his head to the side slightly to move the hair from his eyes and you feel your mouth gape open. He is wearing a white linen button up with dark slacks. He walks around the front of his jeep to the passenger side to greet you.

“Y/n?” He points to you twirling his key ring on one finger.

“Who?” How to words? You try to remember.

“What?”

“Sorry, I mean yes, hi! I’m Y/n.” You stretch out your hand to shake his and he takes hold of you. You like the roughness of his calluses on your soft palms. “Um, Sangyeon, I assume?” 

“You assume correctly.” He looks down at your still connected hands and laughs. You notice and immediately release him.

“Oh sorry.” You tuck some hair behind your ear and adjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder looking away nervously. Sangyeon tilts his head to look you over briefly while you're turned away. He finds you beautiful. Interesting. Not what he was expecting, but quite possibly the prettiest person he has ever seen. He finally speaks.

“Should we get going then?” You nod and smile weakly. You’re so taken aback by this handsome man that you have to remind yourself how to walk, hoping your face isn’t giving anything away. He opens the door and beckons for you to get in. Once you're inside, Sangyeon grabs the buckle and tugs it forward to hand to you. 

“Safety first.” He softly chuckles. 

You take the seat belt from him, accidentally brushing his finger. “Thank you,” you say a little too shakily. If Sangyeon feels anything, he doesn’t show it. He heads to his side and you take out your phone to distract yourself. He turns the car on and starts punching in directions to the museum. As you’re absentmindedly scrolling through your phone you miss Sangyeon swiveling in his seat, looking in your direction. With one hand on the steering wheel, he places a hand on the back of your headrest. You smell his cologne first before you look up at him surprised to meet his eyes. He looks down at you and smiles. His eyes turn into crescents and you can feel your heartbeat quicken in your chest. Sangyeon turns his attention to the back window and backs the car up from the curb. While he looks behind you, you take the time to visually trace and memorize the shape of his features. You notice he has the nose of a Roman god and the jawline of a Greek one. You shake your head and force your eyes away from him just as you land on his Adam's apple. Sangyeon faces forward and shifts into drive, watching you from his peripheral. He tries to think of something to say and clears his throat. 

“So, have you been to the High before?”

You put your phone into your purse. “I have, but I admit it’s only been a few times. I think the last time I came was when Yayoi Kusama’s Infinity Mirrors was here.”

“Wow, I wish I could have seen that.” 

“It was amazing.” 

The nerves start to subside as the two of you get comfortable making small talk on the way. Once Sangyeon parks, he runs around to your side to open the door for you. While he helps you out the car, you feel his thumb brush over your knuckles. You wonder if he meant to do that or if it was accidental, but you try not to think anything of it. 

The two of you grab a map of the museum and make your way up the spiral pathway. The sun beams through the large glass windows and Sangyeon notices the way your irises illuminate when the rays reflect in your eyes. He watches as you admire the atrium, your jaw slightly dropping as you take in the sight. Sangyeon smiles to himself as he feels his cheeks begin to bloom. You look back down to review the map and plan your course of action.

“Okay, over here is European artwork and ceramics. We can start there and work our way up.” You notice he is looking at you when you face him to confirm the plan, the smile never leaving his lips. You have to tell your heart to keep it down while he nods and gives you a salute. 

“You lead the way, Captain.” He pauses, holding his hand out in front of him signaling for you to enter the first gallery. You bow your head slightly in thanks and walk past him. You make your way through the exhibit stopping briefly by a few pieces to look over them. Sangyeon slowly trails behind you, keeping a little distance so he can watch you. He knows he should be looking at the artwork, but he finds you to be more fascinating. He likes the way you get so close to the artwork your nose almost touches the canvases. Security has had to tell you to back up at least twice now. He also notices the way you pout in concentration as you read the descriptions of the pieces, mouthing each word.

While admiring a Matisse, Sangyeon swallows hard as you make an “o” with your mouth. Warmth travels through his body and he has to mentally swat away the burgeoning dirty thoughts. 

“You like Matisse?” he asks.

“I do, especially his sculpture. I didn’t know they had one here.” 

“You really love this stuff, don’t you?” You look at him confused by his question.

“Of course, don’t you?”

“Sure, but not in the way you do. I should maybe appreciate all of this more.” He chuckles. Sangyeon later discovers a Rodin sculpture and calls you over. 

“Y/n, take a look at this. They have a Rodin too.”

“Wow! It’s beautiful!” You clap your hands at his discovery. He loves how excited you get, almost like a child. 

“There's a lot of amazing artwork here. I really didn't know.” 

Nearing the end of this exhibition, you finally arrive at the painting you have been hoping to see again. Having been distracted by a piece of ceramics, Sangyeon loses sight of you and looks around. He turns the corner and finds you staring at a small painting intently. The light above you cascades over your golden hair creating a halo. He tentatively approaches, almost sad at the thought of disturbing your entranced state, but too eager to be close to you to keep away. He walks up behind you, so close that he gets a whiff of your shampoo or perfume. He discreetly smells you and feels his heart clutch at the hints of florals and tropical scent. Your hair looks so soft and inviting and all he wants to do is plant his face in its strands. Your skin tingles as you sense Sangyeon’s presence. The warmth from him engulfing you. He takes his place next to you once he notices your attention on him.

“You’ve been staring at this one longer than the others.”

“Have I? Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I was just wondering what was so intriguing about it.”

“It’s called The Funeral of Atala by Anne-Louis Girodet de Roussy-Trioson. It is a New World retelling of Romeo and Juliet. Chactas, the man,” You point to the dark haired man on the left wearing a red sash and continue. “Is mourning his beloved Atala who committed suicide so she wouldn’t break her vow of chastity to her dying mother.”

You watch as Sangyeon’s expression falls into a frown. “Why would she do that?”

“The artist wanted to create an inspirational piece in support of Christianity during the time of the French Revolution, which promoted ideals such as secularism.” You smile as Sangyeon nods his head, listening though you can tell he is still trying to understand. “While it doesn’t have that effect for me, I have always been really drawn to this painting because of its tragedy. Maybe it's the hopeless romantic in me.”

“But she’s dead.” 

Laughing, you try to explain yourself further. “True, but look at how he clings to her. It’s his final goodbye. His last chance to touch her, feel her, look at her. I hope to be loved and missed like that one day.” You drop your hands to your sides and Sangyeon mirrors you. His fingers brush yours and you feel a current of electricity from his touch. Sangyeon feels the same energy flow through his body and he wants to take hold of your hand. You wonder if he feels the same heaviness building between you that you feel, not knowing that he’s struggling just as much as you are. Needing to break the tension, you decide to turn away and head to the exhibit upstairs. Sangyeon continues to follow behind as you both make your way to the American and African Art sections.

You catch Sangyeon looking at a few pieces by O’Keefe and Gorky, before he stops at Duet by Adolph Gottlieb. You observe him as he squints to examine the work more closely. This was the first painting that seemed to pique his interest out of everything you had seen so far. Abstract art is not something that often appeals to you compared to other genres, but you want to understand what has captured his attention. You stand beside him and nudge his shoulder gently, stirring him from his concentration. He looks over at you curiously, lifting an eyebrow.

“You seem to like the more abstract and surreal work then?” 

“What makes you say that?”

“Because you didn’t seem as interested in the European work from before.”

He holds his chin and nods in thought. “You’re right, I suppose I don’t really get paintings of people.” He turns his attention back to the piece. “It’s like looking at your dreams. As soon as you wake up you start to forget them so your mind tries to piece it back together while you try to interpret the many meanings behind it. And the end result is something like this.” He points to the Gottlieb piece in front of him. “An abstract memory.” You want to kiss him. He feels your eyes on him and faces you. The two of you get lost in each other’s gaze. You try to swallow, but feel it catch in your throat. Sangyeon looks down at your lips and wets his subconsciously. Now it was his turn to distract himself from grabbing hold of you. Sangyeon pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time. 

“Wow, we’ve been here for 2 hours?” He places his hand on his stomach. “No wonder I'm hungry.” 

“Do you want to get a bite to eat?” 

“Sure, I think I saw a few restaurants down the road when we pulled in.”

“Okay.”

The two of you arrive at a small bistro a short walk from the museum. Once you take your seats, the server asks for your drink order. 

“I’ll have a sweet tea, please.” You smile at the server. 

“Water is fine for me.” 

“I’ll be back with your drinks. Let me know if you have any questions about the menu.” You both thank the server before turning your attention back to each other.

“Sweet tea seems to be a really popular thing here.”

“Yes, in the south it is, but the preference of how you take your tea varies per region.”

“And you like it sweet.”

“I do.” He looks out to the busy street and admires the way the city is cast in a fiery glow. While he looks at the cityscape, you admire the way the setting sun falls across his face. 

“You never told me what that gif was from.” He startles you from your staring.

“What gif?” You ask blinking. Sangyeon mimics the waving Tom Hanks gif and you giggle from his attempt. “Oh, that gif. It’s from a movie, Forrest Gump. It was popular when I was a kid.”

“Oh, that does sound familiar now.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t know that one, but you knew Wayne’s World.”

“Who doesn’t know that movie? Especially the Bohemian Rhapsody scene.” Sangyeon starts to rock his head back and forth while playing the air guitar. You laugh.

“How old are you?” 

“27. I will turn 28 soon though.” 

“Ah, that explains that then.”

“Explains what?” “You’re a lot younger than me.” You can tell he wants to ask your age so to spare him from feeling embarrassed, you answer for him. “I’m 34.” He just nods his head and you wonder if he’s intentionally keeping his reaction stoic. In truth, Sangyeon didn’t care that you were older. You could have told him you were 45 and he still would have found himself enraptured by you.

“That’s not that much older than me. Plus, in my defense. I did not grow up here.”

“Touche.” The server returns with your drinks and takes your food order. After they walk away you turn back to Sangyeon and change the subject.

“So,” you stick your straw in your tea and mix it a little. “Why are you pursuing your Masters?” 

“Really doing this for a promotion at work, if I am being honest. I hope to return back home eventually once I graduate and can land something. And yourself?” 

“Similar. I work at a smaller museum in the metro area and I’m trying to break into a space like the High or better yet, somewhere not in this state.”

“You don’t like it here?” “I don’t mind it, but I have lived here for most of my life and wouldn’t mind an excuse to escape it.” 

Sangyeon stares at your hands and reaches out to grab hold of you. You blink at him, surprised by the sudden action. He rubs his thumb over your rings. 

“I like them.”

“Oh,” You can feel your body ignite while the butterflies start to dance again. “Thanks.”

“What are they?”

“Tiger’s Eye for courage, Sunstone for motivation, and Moss Aquamarine for clarity.” You point to each ring. Still holding your hand in one, he takes his free hand and taps on the Tiger’s Eye. 

“I like this one.” He shifts his gaze to yours. “It looks like your eyes.” The server interrupts the two of you, but Sangyeon doesn’t release your hand until he is handed his plate. His attention was really getting to you so you were relieved to get a break to eat.

As you work through your meal, he notices something peeking out from where your cardigan sleeve is bunched up on your forearm. He gently shifts your arm and pulls the sleeve up more, spotting a tattoo. He traces the outline of the art and goosebumps spread across your skin. Sangyeon grins as you involuntarily close your eyes from his touch, feeling satisfied that you might be just as affected as he is. 

“It’s pretty.” You hum in response, still focused on the way his fingertips feel on your skin. Once he removes his hand you try to speak to calm the pitter patter of your heart. 

“Do you have any tattoos?”

“No, I would like some, but just never brought myself to do it.”

“Well, there’s still time. The body is a canvas.” A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he thinks of your body being a canvas for him. 

The two of you finish your meals and walk back to the car. Sangyeon contemplates holding your hand again, but he wonders if it might be too forward.

“I had a lot of fun today.” You interrupt his anxious thoughts.

“Me too.”

“I was actually really nervous.” 

“Nervous? Why?” He asks, amused.

You shrug. “What if you had been a serial killer? Or just not very nice?”

“Well, I promise I’m not a murderer, but hopefully you think I’m nice?” Sangyeon approaches the passenger side of his car and opens the door for you. You have to duck under his arm to step inside. He lingers for a moment and once seated, you face him.

“Yes, you’re very nice, Sangyeon.” You grab hold of your seatbelt and he closes the door for you. You watch as he walks to the driver side, grinning. The car ride home is mostly quiet. It’s not an uncomfortable silence, but you can feel the air in the car grow thicker as you get closer and closer to your apartment.

Sangyeon arrives and pulls into an open parking spot near your building. You fidget with your bag and he makes no moves to rush you out.

“Thanks again for today…and for driving.”

“You’re welcome.” He lightly drums his fingers on the steering wheel thinking of something else to say.

“Well, I guess I’ll go then. Have a good night.”

“You too, Y/n.” His heart sinks as he watches you turn away to open the door, but you pause your hand on the handle. Sangyeon senses your hesitation and looks at you. You look back at him and chew your bottom lip for a moment. His fingers now tighten on the steering wheel in anticipation. 

“Do you want to come up?” He nods and you hear him unclick his seatbelt in disbelief at his lack of hesitation. You open the door and climb out of his car, meeting him on your side. The walk up to your floor feels long and neither of you say anything. You arrive at your door and grab your keys from your purse.

“This is me.” You insert the keys and enter the dark apartment while Sangyeon follows closely behind you. His body almost flush against yours. You drop your keys in a bowl and bend over to remove your boots. He slides his shoes off as well. Flipping the light on, you try to think about your game plan. You hadn’t thought much farther after inviting him up, other than wanting to feel his skin on yours. When you turn around to face him, you nearly bump into his chest. He places his hands on your shoulders to steady you and you have to take a step back to speak.

“Um, can I get you a drink?” You can hear the nerves in your voice. 

“Okay,” is all he can get out. Sangyeon was more nervous than he expected to be. His heart hasn’t stopped pounding in his ears since you invited him upstairs. Actually, since he first saw you when he picked you up earlier. The two of you head into your kitchen and you open the fridge. He leans his back against the counter behind you while you scour for something to drink.   

“Let’s see…I have water, some beer-”

“And boxed wine,” he interrupts. 

You smile and laugh. “Yes, that too.” You look to him for his choice. His eyes trail up your body before meeting your gaze to answer. 

“Just water is fine since I have to drive.” 

While you plan to grab a bottle of water, you find yourself feeling bold and reaching for two beers instead. He smirks at your defiance. You pop the tops off and hand one to him.

“Stay,” you whisper while looking down into your beer shyly. He takes hold of the drink and searches your eyes, hopeful. He watches as you wrap your lips around the bottle for a sip and can’t help himself from wondering what your mouth would feel like around him. Deciding he can no longer skirt around things, Sangyeon places the bottle down and grabs hold of you, finally bringing you in for a kiss. It takes you a moment to register what is happening before you are wrapping your arms around each other. His lips feel soft against yours. Sangyeon pulls away after a moment to look over your face. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Blushing, you laugh nervously and try to hide in his chest. He takes hold of your chin to face him again.

“Don’t. Please don’t ever hide yourself from me.” He places feather soft kisses on the apples of your cheeks to soothe you, before capturing your mouth with his again. Sangyeon pushes you into the kitchen counter and trails his lips down your neck, nipping your skin with every peck. He settles into your sensitive spot, where your neck and shoulder meet, and inhales, finally committing your smell to memory. Craving to feel him, you unbutton his shirt and drop it to the floor, revealing his beautiful sun kissed skin. You slowly brush your fingers down his toned abdomen until they meet his waistline. He flexes under your touch.

“Can I remove this?” You point to his belt and he nods as he cages you in. You remove his belt then move on to unzip his pants. Once undone you push his pants down and he steps out of them. 

“Your turn,” he whispers into your neck and your body tingles in response. He takes hold of your cardigan and pulls it up to untuck from your skirt, lifting it over your head. Sangyeon unbuttons your jean skirt and lets it fall to the ground. Next, he unclasps your bra. You watch his Adam's apple bob as he admires your breasts. His hand moves up from your waist and takes hold of your nipple between his thumb and index finger. You throw your head back at the sensation. He pulls you in to a kiss you again, pushing his tongue in between your lips. You part them to invite him in and swallow his moan. The two of you eventually have to breakaway to catch your breath. While he continues to familiarize his hands with your body, you trace a finger down the bridge of his nose, then place a chaste kiss on the tip of it. A breathy laugh escapes him at the sweet gesture.

“I want you.” Humor is suddenly replaced with hunger.

“Tell me what you want, baby. Use your words.” You could have folded at the sound of his deep voice calling you baby right then and there, but you remain strong.

“I want to feel you inside me.” He groans and moves his hand down your waist, making his way to your core. You wrap your arms around him to bring him closer to you. He slides two fingers beneath your panties, collecting your wetness as he explores your folds. You exhale into his neck at the relief of his touch.

“Baby, you’re so wet,” he whispers into your ear.

“Mmm, for you. Only for you.” He removes his fingers and settles his hands on the back of your thighs.

“Let’s take this to your bedroom, yeah?” You nod eagerly and place your lips back on his. He lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist. He walks you to the bed and gently lays you down before standing to admire you. Sangyeon looks over your exposed body and shakes his head, his breath catching in his throat. You are the most beautiful work of art he has seen today.

“I can’t believe you're real.” 

Who is this man and how is he real? You wonder. No one has ever spoken to you, looked at you the way he has tonight. He makes you feel like you might actually be beautiful, at least in his eyes. And his eyes are all the matter right now. 

He places his palms on either side of your head and leans back down for a quick kiss to your lips then starts trailing kisses down your body. He latches onto your hardened nipple swirling his tongue slowly, making you squirm. He uses his body to part your legs.

“Sangyeon, please,” you cry out. He lets out a chuckle as he continues placing kisses down your stomach. Your body tensing in pleasure from each touch. Finally reaching the waistband of your panties, he loops his fingers into the sides and pulls them off. His stare at your aroused middle makes you feel shy as you try to close your legs. He stops you. 

“Don’t hide from me, remember?” You nod and part your knees. “I can’t wait to taste how sweet you are, baby.” You whine when you feel his breath on your wet pussy. Sangyeon kitten licks your lips, teasing you and you buck into him. He wraps his hands around your legs, pinning your hips down as he presses his tongue harder into you, licking and sucking. He prods your entrance and you hiss in pleasure.

“Ahh, Sangyeon.” You comb your fingers through his hair, pushing him into you. “More.” He removes a hand from your hip and slides two fingers inside of you. “Yes, yes! Fuck!” You tighten around his digits with each thrust amazed at how close you are to coming. He curls his fingers to push against your spongy spot and you cry out. He sucks just above your entrance near his fingers while his nose rubs into your clit repeatedly. You can hear your wetness and your cries grow louder. 

“Faster, Sang. Please, baby,” you shout. Your begging nearly sends him over the edge. He grinds into your mattress for relief while he continues lapping your pussy and increasing his pace. “I’m gonna come, Sang! I want to come!”

“Let go, sweetheart.” His soft tone, while face deep in your pussy, guides you to the edge and you feel yourself release. Sangyeon licks up your juices while you come down from your orgasm. Once he’s done, you lift him off you and bring him to your lips before pushing him back again. You point to his briefs and snap them.

“Off, please!” His cock twitches at your request. Sangyeon slides his briefs down his hips freeing himself. He’s so hard and sensitive that the cold air elicits a moan from him. You watch him close his eyes from pleasure and you can feel your arousal grow again. You take hold of him and softly stroke him up and down, feeling the weight and warmth of his cock. His whole body shudders. You scoot closer to him and wrap your lips around his tip to suckle. Before you can put more of him into your mouth, he pulls you off making you pout.

“Baby, I don’t think I will last if you keep that up and right now all I want to do is feel you coming on my cock.” He pushes you back down onto the mattress. Sangyeon slips his tip through your folds for lubrication then aligns himself with your entrance. As he pushes in, you both release a moan at the feeling of him stretching you. His eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling of you sucking him in and you think this might be the hottest thing you've ever seen in your 34 years. 

“You feel so fucking good, Y/n.” He stills once he can't go any further trying to savor the feeling. 

“Move, Sang, please. I can’t take it anymore. I need you.” With one hand by your head, he places the other on your waist, gripping it tightly for leverage and rocks into you. He doesn’t hold back and it’s not long before your bed frame is knocking repeatedly into your wall. You wonder if you’ll get a complaint, not that you care right now.

“I’m so close to coming, baby,” he calls out breathlessly. You run your fingertips down his back, feeling every ripple of muscle while you bite into his neck. 

“Come inside me.” Sangyeon drives harder into you at the demand and you can feel his thrusts start to stutter as he approaches his high. You tighten your legs around him to push him further into you. Sangyeon lets out a whine as he finally climaxes. The feeling of his warmth filling you triggers your second orgasm. You scream out his name as the two of you slow your movements and catch your breath. He lays his entire weight onto your body and you hold him closely, stroking his hair. 

“We should probably clean up,” he says as he tries to get up. You stop him from pulling out and shush him.

“Not yet, please.” He lays his head back onto your breasts, too tired to protest. You continue to brush your fingers through his hair and he starts to doze off listening to your heartbeat. You’re not sure if you have fallen asleep or not, but Sangyeon’s raspy voice rouses you.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

Sangyeon lifts himself up to face you and places a soft kiss on your forehead as he speaks. “To be honest,” Then places another kiss on the tip of your nose. “I wasn’t originally looking forward to this assignment.” Then on your cheek. “But I’m glad we got paired together.” And finally leans in for a kiss on your lips.

You smile into the kiss then meet his eyes. “Me too.”

A/N: Just a very self-indulgent one shot inspired by a dream I had recently. Listening to Daylight while thinking of Sangyeon definitely devastated me lol. Also, I just needed to get this quickly out of my head so apologies for any mistakes. Hope you like it! Graphics by @saradika-graphics!

xx

[countmothra]

More misc. Abbey operation thoughts because I’m insane.

• There is an Infirmary of sorts within the abbey that will deal with the populations more minor to moderate health problems. But for anything severe like broken bones and serious and chronic illnesses they go to the nearest hospital for licensed medical attention.

• The abbey also has a Nursery/Daycare area because there are obviously kids living in the abbey because some siblings of sin come into the church already with kids or choose to have kids.

•Speaking of which, and going off an old headcannon of mine. Children in the abbey are raised communally, sure they know who their parent(s) are but everyone pitches in regardless of if it’s their kid or not. Only exception is Emeritus kids, they are raised ONLY by their immediate family (parent/s, siblings, grandparents) to make sure they have as much exposure to their future role as possible.

• Some of the siblings plan activity nights. Be it making crafts, watching a movie or playing board games, it’s all meticulously planned with sign up sheets and a suggestion box.

•Every six months there is 100% a day where EVERYONE in the abbey is tasked with deep cleaning. Nobody is safe from cleaning day. Ghouls, siblings, papas, higher clergy member, everyone is put to work scrubbing every last stone in that abbey until it shines. The chapel of ritual stinks like dead human sacrifice and Sister Imperator is tired of it.

• Old lady knitting club. Just a bunch of the oldest sisters of sin knitting and talking shit. Imperator goes on Fridays to decompress and gossip.

•there are secret passages in the abbey that some of the teenage inhabitants of the abbey hide in to do the typical rebellious teenage things like smoke weed and drink the wine they stole off the altar.

•BIG! LIBRARY! Books, lots of ‘em! All over! Just a whole bunch of physical media meticulously stored in a library for anyone to use for any purpose. Books? Hell yeah! Vinyl records? Of course! Cassette tapes? You bet! CD’s? Whole section of them! Film reels? They may not be pristine but they got those too! VHS tapes, DVD’s, they have it all archived.

•jobs for each and every sibling and ghoul are posted on a bulletin board outside of imperators office, just in case anyone forgets.

•piggybacking off my last batch of headcannons, they definitely sell some of their excess produce when the Papas aren’t actively touring. Money is still coming in from albums and whatnot, sure, but it’s nice for the ministry to have that little extra cash.

•The papas teach some of the religion classes and it’s a gamble on who they teach because their class could be made up of adults just entering into the fold or literal toddlers who can’t even spell “cat” yet.

Which brings me to silly scenarios that have 100% happened because I said so.

• Primo had to teach toddlers once. They did not care about the simplified version of how Lucifer fell, all they cared about was the sick new monster truck in the toy chest. Primo did have to admit that this monster truck was pretty cool as it was one of the cars where you pull it back enough and it goes forward on its own. (You know what I’m talking about)

• The old ladies in the knitting club are old enough to remember when each of the Emeritus boys were born. So whenever a rumor spreads about one of those boys, they are the first ones to discuss it. “Did you hear that Nihils youngest boy got drunk and started doing the most bizarre things to the furniture?” “Terzo?” “No! The younger one! Copia I think his name is… oh I remember when he was just a tot…” these devolve into wandering down memory lane.

• When Imperator goes, it’s mostly to gossip and drink wine. She’ll maybe knit a scarf…maybe…

• Terzo taught a class of teens once, and never again. Two teen girls pointed out how damaged his skin was and that he did a shit job covering his grays with box dye. He never wants to do that again.

• During those big cleaning days twice a year, it’s never the chapel that’s the filthiest, it’s the ghouls quarters. It’s always the ghouls quarters.

[verai-marcel]

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 28 of 28)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

Act I - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Act II - Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | 

Act III - Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 (18+) | Part 28 (END)

AO3 Link is here, my love.

Word Count: 2,422

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Act III, Chapter 7 - The Epilogue

Five months passed in blissful domesticity. You had started a small apothecary shop which made enough money to keep you in business and build up your savings. Astarion, when he felt the whim, would make scents for you to sell. Those always seemed to sell out extremely quickly, and after the first three months, he began taking commissions. That is, when he wasn’t busy with his little adventures in the night.

Astarion had continued his little bouts of heroism. You noted that he had a penchant for going into Rivington and helping the less fortunate, getting a sort of high from sucking the life out of evil thugs and getting praised for it.

Oh, of course he lives for the praise.

You mildly wondered if some of the people he rescued had ever praised him a little too much, when he came back with an extra pep in his step.

“Did someone call you the most handsome hero in the Gate?”

He scoffed. “Please. They don’t need to say it.” Leaning against your work table, he gave you the most perfect grin. “I already know.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes, you’re the most beautiful beau in all the land.”

“And don’t you forget it,” he sassed, taking off his armor and weapons. “And what is my little witch making tonight?”

“Just a new batch of potions. Bluurg and Omeluum had a fresh batch of mushrooms from the Underdark and—”

You felt a tingle of power in the air and turned around just as a dove appeared in your window, a small message box tied to it.

“Thank you,” you said as you took the letter.

~*All part of the job, ma’am,~* he said, sounding like an elderly retired officer. The dove saluted with his wing and took off.

Being able to talk to animals regularly still throws me off.

Opening the letter, you smiled. Withers’ handwriting was a bit shaky, but still elegant.

Astarion read the letter over your shoulder. “Oh.”

You turned towards him. “What do you mean, ‘oh’?”

He looked away. “I, erm, may have forgotten to let the others know that you returned.”

You sputtered for a moment in shock. “Astarion!” you screeched in annoyance.

He gave you his classic shrug. “Well, it’ll be a hell of a surprise when you show up.”

***

When you and Astarion arrived at the old camp site where Withers had set up the little soiree, you realized that you and he were the first people there. Seeing Withers waving his staff and setting up the final dishes on the table was a bit surprising.

“Wait, so you could have summoned food and drink all this time?” you asked as you came up to him.

You swear you saw a wry smirk before he returned to his usual neutral expression. “No one asked.”

You damn skeleton!

Putting on a polite smile, you asked tentatively, “Erm, do you need any help?”

“Thou hast helped enough,” he said, but not in an unkind way. “It is thy turn to relax and wait for thy meal.”

You nodded. “Well, I guess I should let you get back to it then.”

He nodded and resumed preparing the feast.

You went back to Astarion, who was perusing the selection of wines at the other end of the table.

“Found something good?”

He shook his head. “You’d think he’d find a fresh bottle of blood somewhere,” he muttered. “Does he expect me to just drink this wine?”

“I’ll feed you when we go home,” you said, patting his arm.

He suddenly wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against his body. “You could feed me now. Nobody else is here—”

Suddenly you felt a tingle in your spine, right before you heard your name being yelled with jubilant glee.

Turning towards the voices, you saw a portal from Avernus close, and two familiar figures staring at you in surprise.

Without any further words, Astarion let you go as you ran to them, hugging them tightly.

“Where have you been? When did you get back?” Karlach asked in a rush of words.

You started to tell your story, but Wyll held up a hand to stop you. “I get the feeling everyone will want to hear your tale,” he said. “Perhaps you should wait until everyone is here.”

“That sounds good, otherwise I’ll be repeating myself all night.” You turned back to Astarion, who saw someone behind you and quickly walked away, pointedly poking at the decorations around the site.

You heard her before you could turn to look. “Of course he would forget to tell us.”

Looking over to Shadowheart, you saw her sassy grin and smiled back. “Of course.”

She gave you a big hug, holding you tight before pulling back to look at your face. She shot a sour glare at Astarion before giving you a brilliant smile. “Or maybe he didn’t want to share you with anyone else for a while.”

You shrugged. “Him? Selfish? Whatever do you mean?” you joked. “You look great, by the way.” You looked around. “So…”

“Oh, he’ll be here shortly. He took far too long figuring out what to wear, so I left first.”

Oh Gale, you silly man. “I didn’t expect that from him.”

As the others slowly showed up, you got a chance to catch up with everyone. It was nice, seeing how everyone had carried on after enduring the adventure of a lifetime. Jaheira and Minsc were living in Baldur’s Gate doing their own things while Halsin had moved back to Thaniel’s lands to take care of the war orphans. Lae’zel, though she appeared spectrally at the party, told you that she had been fighting the good fight against Vlaakith.

Volo had somehow found his way to the party, but when you gave a subtle nod to Withers, he suddenly found that he had somewhere else to be.

Wyll and Karlach had gone to Avernus a couple weeks after you had cast your spell on her heart engine. At least knowing that she had time to prepare, with Wyll by her side, Karlach had gone willingly, and with a goal in mind: to find a way to fix her engine. And it turned out that they had discovered some blueprints and a map to a blacksmith, nabbed from the corpse of a cambion. They had hope that they’d be able to return to Baldur’s Gate soon.

Gale finally arrived, dressed rather sharply, and you caught he and Shadowheart sharing a loving gaze before he came to greet you. You found out that he had become a professor at the wizard academy in Waterdeep. While he had mostly moved back to his tower, he had also purchased some land outside of the city for Shadowheart and her parents to start a farm and take care of orphaned animals. Of course, they had a direct portal between the tower and the farmhouse so they could visit each other whenever they wanted.

You finally told Gale why you had always dodged his questions about Waterdeep. About who your old master was, and why you had fled town. Turns out that Gale had known of the man, since he was from a well known noble family.

“So that man was actually a masked lord, huh?” Gale had shrugged. “Well, no matter. Apparently the Zhentarim have, shall we say, disposed of him, so unless you have any other dark secrets, you’re free to come visit.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. The one major thing that had been haunting you from the past was now gone for good.

Scratch had been living in Baldur’s Gate with a very nice family, but from time to time he would wander off to visit with Owly, who had been living near the outskirts of the city. You asked if perhaps the owlbear might be better off staying with Shadowheart at her farm, and realizing you had accidentally offered someone else’s home without her permission, you quickly told Shadowheart about it. Fortunately, she was delighted to take him in.

And during your conversations with each person, you confessed to them your ability to feel emotions through touch. You let them know that you had never shared anything with anyone else, and now you knew how to shield properly, so their emotions would be private. You had expected some backlash, but they all just shrugged it off as a thing in the past. It was comforting to know that all the dread you had felt about telling them was all in your head, and you need not have worried. They were your friends, after all.

“So that’s why you always wore gloves,” Karlach had said, as if she had been holding onto that mystery all this time.

Well, that wasn’t so hard to confess… Guess I didn’t need to be so anxious about it.

With everyone here, sat around the table, sharing food and drink like old times, you felt that warm, cozy feeling surround you.

I think now is the time to tell everyone what happened to me after I fell into the portal.

You cleared your throat, and immediately everyone turned to you. 

“Are you going to tell us a story now?” Karlach asked excitedly.

“Have you been waiting all night?” you asked with a grin.

She nodded enthusiastically.

You looked at everyone, and their eyes were all on you.

“Alright, well, after I got thrown into the portal…”

You told your story, summarizing your year in the Feywild. High on the attention, you took a chance.

“Could I… share one of my songs with you all?”

Their enthusiasm was so overwhelming that you immediately got up and went to Milil. 

He had looked at you at first with disdain, but when you had identified him as the God of song, poetry, and inspiration, he was a great deal happier. So much so, that when you asked him to play your song, he readily agreed.

“No need,” he said as you offered to scribble the notes. “Just hum a few bars and I’ll adapt to you.”

You did so, and was pleasantly surprised when he played along beautifully. Satisfied, you climbed back down from his platform, only to find that everyone had gathered around. So you stood right where you were and began to sing.

You weren’t sure how long you sang, and you also weren’t sure when you began to change. Your hair turned fiery red before it broke free from its bun and cascaded down your back, locks of it floating around you, swaying with your song. Your voice split into three harmonious layers, making you sound like a choir unto yourself. Buoyed by the magic you could feel flowing through your body, you began to dance, and the vegetation around the campsite began to glow and flutter softly, as if all of nature swayed to your melody.

By the time your song ended, your magic had formed sparkles of fae dust, scattering around as you twirled around one last time, the flecks of light dissipating into the cool night air.

You took a deep breath and bowed.

Your friends erupted in cheers.

“Amazing!”

“Brilliant!”

“Gorgeous, absolutely stunning!”

You looked at Astarion, who was standing in the back, so no one could see the soft look of love on his face.

Smiling back, you let everyone pull you back to the table for more drinks.

The night carried on, and as everyone was getting a bit more drunk, you slipped away to take a breather. Wandering into the abandoned building on the other side of the small bridge, you found Withers, who was quietly looking through a book. You didn’t recall all the bookcases here before, but perhaps he had brought them here to entertain himself while the others were partying.

Just as you were about to sneak back out, not wanting to bother him, he turned to you.

“Was it worth staying?” he asked quietly.

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

“With thy companions on their journey.”

Oh. I see. You smiled. “Yes. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met Astarion and the others. I wouldn’t have found my mother. I would have stayed in the dark about a lot of things, and continued to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life.”

Withers nodded. “Good.” 

As per usual, he silently watched you as you tried to look for the right words to express yourself, but you realized perhaps that simple was best.

“Thank you, Withers.”

He stared at you for a moment. “I did nothing to warrant gratitude.”

You shrugged. “You said something just cryptic enough that made me stay. So whether it was on purpose or not, you still have my thanks.”

The skeleton’s expression changed for a mere moment, but you caught the smile before it disappeared again. 

With nothing more to say, you bowed politely and began to walk away, but then he spoke once more. “Tell Lady Orla she owes me a cup of tea.”

You twirled around to stare at him in utter surprise.

Does my mother know everyone in the realms?! And what the fuck did they bet on?

Knowing that neither of them would ever tell you, you took a deep breath and let it go. “Will do,” you replied. You opened your mouth to say goodbye, but decided to change your wording. “See you later, Withers.”

Returning to the party, you found Astarion, who was being grilled by the others.

“Why didn’t you write to us that she had returned?”

He shrugged. “I may have forgotten…”

“You wanted to keep her to yourself, didn’t you?”

“Well, wouldn’t you?” he replied matter-of-factly. He turned towards you. “Look at her. She’s incredible.”

You grinned from ear to ear. “Not half as incredible as you,” you replied. “And I mean that for all of you. You’re all wonderful. I hope we meet up many more times in the future!”

Amongst the sounds of cheering and revelry, you saw Astarion holding his hand out to you, just as he always did. You took his hand and let your shield down, taking in the warmth of his emotions as he pulled you aside.

With his eyes gazing lovingly at yours, he brought your hand to his lips. “Are you happy, darling?”

You smiled warmly at him. “Yes, very much so. Are you?”

“Of course I am.” He stepped closer and pressed his forehead to yours. “You always bring my happiness with you, my love.”

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Act III, Chapter 7 End notes: Wow, what a journey! I’m so happy to finally complete this story, and so glad that all of you have joined me on this ride. Thank you so much for reading and commenting, it really means a lot to me to hear your feedback. For now this is the end of the main story, but I’m thinking about posting a few side drabbles from Astarion’s POV, if anyone has any interest. And if I have any side ideas about our hearth witch, I’ll post them here!

Also my author’s notes and HW’s character summary are here if anyone has any interest in a peek behind the scenes.

Also full disclosure - I stole a part of that last line from a manga; I wish I had come up with that on my own. I’ve used it in other fics too, haha. I just love that line. Let me know if you can guess which manga and which character said it!

Tags List: @numblytemporary @xalphafox @avitute @stormyjane7 @kmoon21

[cordelianewman]

Merry Christmas to all my friends,

Wishing you a very merry holiday and a beautiful start to 2025.

@docolives

two beautiful mirrored trays to place your perfumes, jewelry, or really anything on for either your bedroom or to decorate your living room with and a set of stunning wine glasses ( 4 ) that have a golden shimmer to them.

@narilily

a couple of cut glass vases to add some different textures to the beautiful flowers you always have and a trinket box for besides your bed or wherever you need to stash a couple of things.

@lenavaz

A little shoulder bag that is completely beaded in this gorgeous rosy gold color and a velvet fringe floral blanket to keep you extra toasty warm in the winter but make it fashion

@sunnynardelli

A beaded shoulder bag with little wine and cocktail glasses for the fabulous drinks you serve up and a mother of pearl coated candle to use when you need a cozy night in.

@stellylee

couldn't pass up all things extra cozy so an extra warm sweater for you to wear ( or share! ) and a blanket to keep warm on those blustering cold nights.

@rafaelcb

for the person who has everything a whiskey tasting set of glasses ( 4 ) to have friends around with you and a gorgeous plush scarf for those extra cold times to bundle up.

@xalecjacobs

a catch up on all the extra sweet Christmas goodies since it's been forever since I did a Sunday baking moment for you, and a zip sweater to keep warm with.

@xcorikhang

A gorgeous sequined pattern sweater for a little extra sparkle and a marble jewelry holder for on your nightstand or dresser.

@brooksienewman

since you have to get up at the crack of dawn sometimes an alarm clock that also plays different relaxing noises so you can get the best night sleep and a new wallet that has hidden compartments for cash and change.

@lucie-newman

a jewelry holder that also seconds as a wall piece of decor to decorate your place with wherever you may choose and a Lomo'Instant wide camera for cute little photography you choose to take along the way.

@elisequinn

Couldn't pass up a chance to give a cozy sweater to keep you warm when you're out and about and a beautiful mug for coffee or tea.

[imzadi-caskett-huddy]

Break First (1/1)

I know I owe you guys chapters on “Hell Hath No Fury” and “It Started With a Kiss.” Trust me, I know. And I would love to be writing them for you. However, as I was listening to some music, minding my own business, this idea hit me BAM! Like lightning. And now instead of writing the fics I’ve already got going, I’m writing this one-shot to get it out of my head so I can get back to my regular scheduled fic writing.

This fic takes place after “The Limey” in season 4. The fic is inspired by the song “Break First” by Faith Hill and Tim McGraw. If you look it up to watch on YouTube, I recommend watching one of the versions from their live concert because their chemistry together is unreal. The words will appear in the fic, so it’s not completely necessary to look up the song…but you won’t regret it if you do. You’ll get more emotion behind the words if you listen to them with the music as opposed to if you just read them.

I do not own the song “Break First,” nor do I own Castle.

xxxxx

Standing at the bar tryin’ to get a drink

Got one I haven’t touched at the table

Somebody said you’re here, but I ain’t gonna leave

Maybe I’ll just act like you’re a stranger

Kate was sitting at the airport bar next to the handsome Scotland Yard Detective Inspector, nursing her glass of whiskey…whiskey, because after the day–well, few days–she’d had, there was no way she could settle for beer or even wine, and her only answer when Colin had asked what she wanted had been to say whatever he was drinking.

There was nothing particularly wrong with Colin. He was ridiculously handsome, sexy even…she’d snuck a peek at his body when his towel had dropped. He definitely checked off all the boxes from a physical standpoint. He was interesting enough, and even if he wasn’t, he had an accent that automatically made everything he said more interesting simply because of how it sounded coming out of his mouth. They even had things in common professionally.

So no…Colin wasn’t a bad date. But she found herself doing her best to feign interest as he talked, as her mind kept wandering. She kept replaying how Castle had pulled up to her crime scene in his Ferrari with that blonde floozy, and much as it had that night, she felt her heart clench and a sinking feeling in her gut. Lanie’s voice echoed in her head–Like you waited too long. She took a drink of her whiskey at that thought.

As if on cue, she spotted him…no, them taking an empty table across the bar. Jacinda. She was pressed against his side like she was glued there, and Kate guessed she may as well have been with the way Castle’s hand was around her waist, holding her against him. And then her damn eagle eye spotted the blonde’s hand running up along his inner thigh; a wave of jealousy,

anger, and hurt rolled through her body, and she felt almost sick…definitely like she’d just been sucker punched.

Do you know how hard it is, tryin’ to hold a conversation

Knowing you’re right there across the room

So I don’t hear a word that they’re sayin’

No I don’t hear a word that they’re sayin’

“I’m sorry, Kate; I’m boring you,” Colin apologized, realizing he’d lost her attention.

“What? No…no, you aren’t boring me,” she tore her eyes away from the scene that was breaking her heart as she finished the alcohol in her glass and ordered another. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a long few days,” she apologized, turning to face the bar in front of her completely so she no longer had to watch Castle get a handjob from his latest squeeze underneath his table.

Colin studied her a moment before turning to look in the direction she’d been staring daggers at moments ago. Seeing Castle and a blonde woman, he turned back to her. “Must be hard working with your ex. How long ago did you break up?”

“We didn’t break up.” Seeing his confused look, she continued. “He’s not my ex,” Kate told him simply.

“Really? I could have sworn you two…”

“No,” Kate interrupted him. “Castle and I have never dated,” she exaggerated her annunciation of the word dated as the bartender placed a fresh glass in front of her, and she took a drink.

“Ah,” Colin nodded his understanding then. “But there’s something there?”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I thought so.”

“But you don’t think so anymore?”

Kate offered a half-shrug and took another sip of her drink, letting the burn of the alcohol take the edge off the sting of it all. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Who’s gonna walk up and say “Hi”

Then lean in a little too close to whose lips

Say “What the hell are we doin'?”

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Castle had spotted her almost as soon as he’d entered the bar with Jacinda. He was a writer…he paid attention to the details. Even with the uncomplicated distraction of the attractive woman on his arm, there was no way he wouldn’t spot Kate. Unfortunately, he also spotted him. Of course, she was there with Scotland Yard. Just one more guy she could add to the list of men she dated. It seemed like she was willing to date anyone but him…almost as though the first criteria a man had to meet to score a date with Kate Beckett was to simply not be Richard Castle.

He watched as the other man placed his hand on her arm, earning a small smile from her in return. The Englishman stood from his seat at the bar then, and Castle was relieved it seemed like he was leaving. Only then he leaned in and placed a kiss on Beckett’s cheek, and Castle saw red. He immediately slid the hand that had been on Jacinda’s waist down to her ass, leaning in to whisper into her ear with a smile, his lips grazing the skin of her neck.

I’m dancing with a girl, got my eyes closed

Actin’ like I’m lost in the music

All I’m thinkin’ ‘bout is holdin’ you close

I don’t know how much longer I can do this

When he pulled back slightly from Jacinda and braved a glace in Kate’s direction, he was pleased to find that Scotland Yard was gone. He’d probably had to catch his flight. But Kate was still there, drinking alone now. Part of him wondered if she’d noticed him come into the bar with Jacinda. Part of him hoped she had, wanted her to see the way the blonde woman wanted him, touched him. Part of him wanted her to know that he didn’t need her.

Only…he did. Because while the flight attendant was attractive and fun and uncomplicated, she just…wasn’t Kate. She wasn’t as beautiful as Kate. She wasn’t as witty as Kate. She didn’t smile or laugh like Kate. She definitely wasn’t as brilliant or as intelligent as Kate. Her eyes weren’t the right shade…her hair wasn’t the right color. He hated himself but he still wanted her…he still wanted Kate. Jacinda was nothing more than a blonde distraction, the same way Gina had been.

He closed his eyes, letting his mind play tricks on him, letting his mind convince him that it was Kate he had his arm around; it was Kate who had her body pressed up against his, whispering seductively into his ear; it was Kate’s hand on his thigh. For as long as he kept his eyes closed, it worked. As long as he kept his eyes closed, he could pretend that she loved him too, that she was with him…finally. Kate... But when he opened his eyes, it wasn't Kate’s hazel eyes looking back at him.

Do you know how hard it is, bein’ in this situation?

Knowing you were everything

And now havin’ to act like we’re nothing

And pretendin’ that I don’t still love you

“Who’s Kate?”

Castle froze. Shit. He hadn’t realized he’d said her name out loud, but obviously he had. “She’s nobody. Just…a character in a chapter of a book I’m writing,” he tried to cover. “I was trying to figure out how to say goodbye to her. Her chapter in my book is over.”

Jacinda wasn’t as quick or as brilliant as Kate, but she wasn’t completely dumb either. “Sounds more like an old girlfriend to me,” she stated, pulling back from him slightly.

“Well, she’s not,” he shrugged. “In fact, I can promise you that she is not now, nor has she ever been, my girlfriend.” That part was painfully true, unfortunately.

“I’ve got to go, Ricky. My flight is boarding soon,” she told him, slipping out of his grasp.

“Jacinda, wait…”

She paused and leaned in to give him a gentle kiss. “When you finish working out whatever is going on with whoever Kate is, give me a call,” she told him, offering him a small smile before exiting the bar.

Castle sighed deeply. Damn it. He hadn’t ordered a drink when they’d entered because he was being nice about the fact that Jacinda couldn’t have one right before she went on duty. But now he definitely needed a drink. Only he couldn’t go up to the bar because Kate was still sitting there.

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Who's gonna walk up and say “Hi”

Then lean in a little too close to whose lips

Say “What the hell are we doin’?”

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Kate noticed the blonde leaving the bar out of the corner of her eye. She decided she had enough of this…whatever this was. Tossing back what was left of her whiskey, she placed her glass on the counter and slid out of the chair. She wasn’t drunk by any means…no, Kate Beckett could hold her liquor. But her filter was no longer operational after 3 glasses of whiskey. She marched right over to his table. She didn’t bother with pleasantries, she cut right to the chase. “What the hell are you doing?”

His eyes narrowed at her. “What the hell am I doing? What the hell are you doing? I thought you said Scotland Yard…”

“His name is Colin,” Kate interrupted him angrily.

“Fine…I thought that Colin was flying back to London,” he countered, his own anger flaring.

“He did.”

“His departure for London obviously made him irresistible to you. Can’t get much more one foot out the door than a relationship with a man who is a 7-hour flight away from you,” he stated.

“Why do you care? Didn’t you have a date with Jacinda?” she practically spat her name.

“Jealous?” he smirked smugly.

“Of your flight attendant floozy? Please,” she snorted. But oh…she was jealous. Jealous of the way Castle looked at her. Jealous of the way Castle talked about her. Jealous of the way he so easily handed the keys to his Ferrari…his Ferrari…to her. Jealous of the fact that Jacinda had driven his Ferrari more in 3 days than she had in 3 years.

“You sound jealous.”

Kate clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes. “I’m not jealous. If you want to fuck your way through Delta’s entire fleet of flight attendants, be my guest. Just keep them the hell away from my crime scenes, and the hell away from my investigations,” she growled.

“Because you never mix business with pleasure,” he commented sarcastically.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorenson…you kissed him at the house of the kidnapped girl. Demming…you kissed him in the precinct, slept with him while you were working together too. Josh…paraded him around the precinct and couldn’t keep your hands off him. Now Colin. Only a matter of time before you sleep with him too…assuming you haven’t already. And those are just the ones I know about,” he said lowly.

She swallowed hard, her hands clenching into fists as her anger flared. They were standing almost toe to toe now, staring each other down…no, more like glaring at each other. Her eyes were getting watery, and she hated, hated the fact that when she got this angry the tears came without her permission and were completely out of her control. “You’re a jackass,” she hissed lowly.

“You’re a coward and a liar,” he growled, trying to mask his hurt behind the venom in his tone.

Who’s gonna say, “What were we thinkin’?

Who’s gonna cut right through the tension?

Who’s gonna admit that they miss who worse?

Who’s gonna tell who how bad it hurts?

His words felt like a slap in the face, made her heart feel like it were being ripped apart by that bullet all over again. For a moment, she found herself wishing it had been a bullet ripping through her heart again; at least a bullet’s damage could be repaired easily by a doctor. The damage his words were causing, however, would require much more than the skilled hands of a surgeon.

Their eyes never left each other as they remained in their glare-down, standing so close they were invading each other’s personal space, neither one willing to back down. It wasn’t until she felt a couple of rogue tears slipping down her cheeks that she was finally the one to break first. “What the hell are we doing?” The words were soft when they fell from her lips, and she couldn’t hide the hurt in them. “What did I do to make you hate me?”

He simply stared hard at her for a moment before his eyes finally softened just slightly. “I don’t hate you.” He didn’t hate her. He could never hate her. But he did want to hurt her, inflict some pain the way she’d hurt him.

“Really? Because from where I’m sitting, it sure as hell feels like you do,” she wiped her cheeks. “I miss my partner…I miss my friend…I miss…you. So please…just…tell me what I did. Because this…” she gestured between them, “this hurts.”

“You want to talk about hurt?” he started. “Do you have any idea how much it hurts to find out everything you believed in for almost a year, hoped for, were working toward for so long is nothing more than a lie from a coward too afraid to just come out and tell you it was never gonna happen?”

She shook her head. “Castle, what are you talking about?” She genuinely had no idea where all of this was coming from.

“I heard you,” he finally stated lowly.

“You heard me?” she shook her head, still not following.

He just stared at her. Did she really not know? “In interrogation. With the bombing suspect.”

She stared back at him, trying to put the pieces together. And then it clicked. Oh shit. “Castle…” she started. “It’s not what you think.”

“It’s not what I think?! Kate, you lied to me…this whole time you knew, you knew how I felt about you. And you said nothing!” he said lowly, the anger overruling the hurt in his tone at the moment. “And what’s worse…you made me think there was something between us, something worth waiting for. But the whole time…everything…it was all just a damn lie.”

That’s what all this was about. He’d been waiting for her…and now he thought there was nothing worth waiting for. “Castle, please…just…just let me explain…”

“Explain what, Kate? That instead of just telling me the truth you would rather lie? That you would rather just string me along for God knows what reason instead of just putting me out of my misery? That you would rather be in a relationship with literally anyone but me?”

“Castle, that’s not it!” she tried.

“I’m so tired of this dance, Kate. I’m so tired of doing this with you. Just…just tell me you don’t feel the same and let me go on with my life, let me get over you.”

“Castle…”

“Tell me!” he insisted.

“I love you, okay!” she finally practically yelled at him. Only the fact that the bar was busy kept her confession from being overheard by more than just a few of the closer patrons who, thankfully, didn’t seem to pay them much attention outside of a wayward look at the commotion.

He was frozen at her words. So was she. The look of panic in her eyes told him that she had no more meant to say those words than he had expected to hear them from her. But they were out now. “What?”

She was still frozen, like a deer in headlights. She could feel her heart racing as the walls seemed to be closing in. She could feel the grip of panic rising in her throat. And like a deer in headlights, she turned and ran.

“Kate!” he called after her. But she had caught him off guard with her words and her sudden movement, and it took him a few seconds to get his body to move to chase after her. By the time he made it out to the main terminal, he couldn’t spot her through the crowd of people heading for baggage claim at JFK. Damn it! But he knew where she was going. It was late, she didn’t have a case…she’d go home. And he’d meet her there. This was not over.

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Who’s gonna walk up and say “Hi”

Then lean in a little too close to whose lips

Say “What the hell are we doin’?

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

“Kate!” he stood outside her apartment, banging on her door. When she didn’t open it, he kept banging. “Kate! I’m not leaving until you open the door and talk to me!” He banged on the door again to reiterate his point.

She stood on the other side of the door, her back leaning against it as she wrestled with herself over what to do. She could test him…let him keep banging and yelling and maybe he would get tired and just leave…but she would have angry neighbors. Or she could just open the damn door and face him. She’d rather have the angry neighbors. After a few moments of his continuous banging, she finally opened the door, ready to yell at him.

Only before she was able to say anything, he pushed into her apartment, took her face in his hands, and kissed her hard. The way he moved was so determined and swift that she had to grip his shirt to keep from falling backward. It took several moments for her to get past the shock of his action, but she finally gave herself over to the kiss, the grip on his shirt loosening slightly, her mouth softening under his lips.

His kiss was demanding and thorough. He’d loved her, wanted her, thought he would finally have her…only to have it ripped away because he thought she didn’t feel the same…to then have her admit, albeit accidentally, she did feel the same…and then run away from him. He was making it clear, there was no way she was getting out of this yet…they were going to work this out now. She wouldn’t be able to run from this.

When he finally pulled away, they both stared at each other breathing heavily for a few moments. Kate finally broke the eye contact and moved past him to close the door. “Castle…” she started, only to have him interrupt her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She sighed softly, leaning her forehead against the door for a moment before finally turning to face him. “At first I didn’t know what parts were true, what things actually happened, when they happened. Castle…there were so many flashes of things…I didn’t know which ones were real, which ones I’d hallucinated, or which ones were drug-induced. I was a mess…I had to work through so many issues…” she tried to explain. “By the time I actually remembered and knew it was real…there were so many other issues I needed to work through. I didn’t know how to deal with everything. But I never lied to you about what I wanted.”

“So the relationship you mentioned wanting to have…”

“It was with you. I should have just said that…I shouldn’t have expected you to understand what I meant…” she shook her head. “I’ve been seeing a therapist, Castle. He helped me work through my shooting, my PTSD…he’s helped me with my wall. He’s still helping me,” she told him quietly. “I see him once a week.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he found himself asking her again.

She shrugged. “I just wanted to show up and put in the work without making any excuses,” she answered.

“So this therapist…he’s helped?”

She nodded. “He has.” She was quiet for a few moments. “I need you to understand that me not telling you I remember has nothing to do with how I feel about you. It is and was about me...it never had anything to do with you,” she told him softly. “And I’m sorry…I never meant for you to find out the way you did. I was going to tell you…”

“When?”

She was quiet for another few moments. “After this case, actually. When I asked if you had a minute to talk.”

“Only I didn’t…” he realized, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m sorry, Kate…about Jacinda…I just, I thought…”

“I know what you thought,” she held up her hand to stop him. “Did you sleep with her?” she asked quietly after a few moments. She needed to know.

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m not going to lie…I tried. I wanted to. But every time we got close I…I couldn’t,” he admitted quietly. “I felt like I was cheating on you, and I couldn’t go through with it.”

“Castle…” she murmured, moving into his arms, burying her face in his chest and just inhaling him.

His arms wrapped around her tightly, resting his head on top of hers as he held her tightly. “I’m sorry…I’m so, so sorry…” he murmured.

Her arms tightened around him as well as she turned her head to look up at him. “Me too,” she

murmured. She tugged her lower lip between her teeth. “Are we…okay?” she asked nervously.

He looked down at her. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that, considering?” he asked softly.

“We’re ok,” she nodded, resting her head back against his chest.

He released a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. He hadn’t messed this up. “We’re ok,” he repeated with a smile.

She felt a weight lift off her chest as he repeated her words. She hadn’t messed this up. “Castle…” she looked up at him. “That wall I told you about? It’s coming down,” she told him.

“I’d like to be here when it does,” he told her seriously.

She bit her lip again as she smiled slightly. “Maybe…we can knock the rest of it down together?”

“You mean…?” he trailed off with his question, wanting to make sure they were understanding each other since they seemed to have issues actually communicating with anything beyond subtext.

“I mean together,” she nodded. “I’m tired of waiting. We’ve both waited long enough, don’t you think?”

Her words brought a smile to his face. “Together…” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her, this one much slower and more gentle than the last.

She smiled against his lips, her hands sliding up his back to pull him closer as she returned his kiss. "So...can I drive your Ferrari now?" she asked softly with a smile.

He chuckled at that. "Kate, you can drive my Ferrari whenever you want," he promised, kissing her again.

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

Who’s gonna break?

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

You or me baby, who’s gonna break first?

xxxxx

So this fic didn’t exactly go way I had envisioned it when the idea struck me, but I’m still pretty pleased with how it turned out.

And now I can go back to writing the newest chapters for Hell Hath No Fury and It

Started With a Kiss.

I hope you all enjoyed this little angsty piece. I look forward to your comments!

[steddieas-shegoes]

how lovely to love them

for @strangerthingsocweek prompt 'love in every form'

rated t | 909 words | cw: mention of alcohol/being drunk | tags: side steddie, side platonic stobin, meg needs a break, meg gets a break, established relationship

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

Meg looked at Gareth. Then Eddie.

“And you two thought you could just get away with that?”

They looked at each other and back at her.

They shrugged in sync.

“Getting drunk and flipping the furniture of the hotel room upside down.”

They shrugged again.

Meg had a migraine, a Corroded Coffin induced migraine.

“Where was Jeff?”

“His room.”

“That’s why he’s my favorite.”

“You’re lying. We all know Gare Bear here is your favorite,” Eddie said as he pulled Gareth into his side and rubbed his hair. “He just had a little too much tequila.”

“And your excuse?” Meg crossed her arms over her chest, raised an unimpressed brow.

“Steve abandoned me.”

Meg rolled her eyes. “Him and Robin have platonic soulmate night every other Thursday night. You never do this shit. Try again.”

“I had bottom shelf vodka.”

Meg nodded, her worst fear confirmed. “And how did that happen? Who let that happen?”

“I’m not a kid! I just forgot to ask for the better stuff in my drinks and then it was too late,” Eddie protested. “We fixed it; Why are we still in trouble?”

“Because this kinda shit can’t happen again. It’s funny when it happens once, but then a rock band gets blacklisted from all the decent hotels because of what they’ve done in the past.” Meg rubbed her hands over her face and through her hair, taking a deep breath. “This time it’s fine, but if it happens again, you’re on an alcohol ban until the tour is done. Period.”

“But-“

“No!” Meg pulled them both into hugs. “I know it was harmless and you were gonna fix it anyways. I know you guys rarely even drink or do stupid shit like this. But I love you guys and people are stupid about rockstar shit like that. I don’t want you to ruin your careers over something silly.”

Just when she started to pull away, Steve barreled through the door with Robin, Jeff, and Freak behind him.

“What happened?” He asked, rushing to Eddie, pulling him towards him and checking him over for any physical evidence of something being wrong. “I just saw the texts.”

“I’m fine.” Eddie kissed his nose. “Meg didn’t kill me.”

“Was that on the table?” Steve turned to look at Meg, who was busy whispering with Robin. “What did you do?”

As Eddie and Gareth explained their side of things, Robin pulled Meg further from the group.

“Sorry it took so long to get back here. We may have had a little too much wine ourselves,” Robin half-apologized, though there was no need for one. “I promise we came as soon as we got your texts.”

“It’s okay. I smoothed it over and everything’s fine,” Meg sighed, letting her head drop to Robin’s shoulder. “They’re gonna give me gray hairs. Will you still love me when I have to box dye my hair every four weeks?”

“I will love you even when you have wrinkles the size of a canyon on your face, my love,” Robin kissed the top of her head. “But I’d rather that not be at the very young age of 27. You need a break.”

“The tour-“

“The tour doesn’t need a break. You do,” Robin wrapped her arms around her, squeezing just above her waist the way she liked. “Steve agrees. He’s gonna cover for you while we take a few days off.”

“But-“

“I love you. They love you. That’s why you’re doing this. And when you’re back, the boys will be nice and behaved because Steve’s gonna make them regret they ever fucked up in the first place, right dingus?” Robin yelled across the room.

“Yeah. Community service hours in the form of helping me study for my midterms as punishment!” Steve knew they hated having to sit still and work on flash cards for hours. It was the perfect punishment.

Meg looked at Robin, then at her boys across the room. “So where are you taking me?”

“Lake Tahoe since we’re already close. You’re gonna shut off your phone and everything will go through me first. I’m like a pasta strainer,” Robin pointed at the boys. “They’re the noodles I’m holding back.”

“Okay, fine. But Steve has to promise to call if there’s a real emergency,” Meg agreed.

“I will!” Steve yelled from Eddie’s lap on the couch.

“And if there’s an emergency of someone’s creation, I’ll kill them. And then you.”

“I’m sure you will!” Steve was smiling at her, then turning back to Eddie with a serious face. “If you fuck this up, I’ll come back from her killing me just to kill you again, do you understand?”

“Sir, yes sir,” Eddie smirked at him before saluting at Meg.

“Alright losers. Come give me a hug,” Meg said. She’d never left them alone while on tour, or recording, or album release tours, or anything.

They piled into her one by one, hugging her and telling her to relax and have fun.

“I love all of you idiots,” she said fondly. “But if you bother me for anything less than someone dying or a show getting canceled, you will never see me again.”

***

As she walked with Robin to their Uber taking them to the airport, she reached for her hand and squeezed it.

“Isn’t it kinda nice to love so many people in so many ways?” She asked.

Robin squeezed her hand in response. “Yeah, we’re pretty lucky.”