#I spent ages trying to shade this and I just can't get it to look right so whatever. I've stared at this for too long now I give up <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[edithdraws]

So sorry about this *hits Thanos with the babygirlification beam*

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Five.

Chapter Four. Chapter Six. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - Does absence make the heart grow fonder, or does it just make everything ten times more difficult?

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. angst. mention of illness.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.7k

Author's Note - it's here!! as always, I can't thank you enough for your love, support and patience with this fic. us writers lead busy lives, and i've been trying my hardest to find the time to write whenever I can, so it means so much that you guys stick with me - even when things take longer than expected. love you all. you're angels. please feel free to spam my inbox with thoughts and suggestions - it always makes my day when you're all so passionate. mwah.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

The sand is warm beneath your feet, cooling breeze cascading across your skin. The waves caress the shore in repetitive motions, lulling you into calm.

Sunlight beaming down, you shield your eyes and look up, sighing in contentment at the shades of blue that paint the sky.

A shriek and a laugh come from somewhere on your right. You look over and see a couple and their toddler running after each other, sprinting down the beach and into the ocean. The little girl can't stop giggling, tripping over her own feet as she chases her parents. Something tugs at your heart, deep and visceral.

It's been three months since you left home.

It's been three months since you saw Bucky.

He calls every few days, trying to give you the space you need while also keeping in touch. You have to resist the urge to call him every ten minutes. It's an improvement, at least. It was five minutes when you first moved.

He texts you good morning and goodnight everyday without fail, just to let you know he's there. You can't sleep until you get his text. It's like a lullaby, reassuring and soothing. Like a chamomile tea, warming and calming you from the inside out.

You think about him the most at night time. Your days are spent running around preparing for the bakery. Testing, retesting, writing up recipes, measuring out quantities. You want it to be perfect.

The baking is taking your mind off Bucky, for the moment at least. You've thrown yourself into your new role, eager and excited. Stella's ecstatic to have you around. You love that you're still just as close as you were, despite the time apart. Friendships like that are rare.

Lacie calls you most nights. She demands to know what you did that day, who you spoke to, what you made. It's like therapy, sitting and decompressing together over videochat. She's a lifeline, whether she knows it or not.

And of course, the most supportive people in your life - your parents. Your Mom is desperate to come and visit, begging that you let her know when you're less busy so you can show her around. She loves the sunshine just as much as you. A woman after your own heart.

On the nights when the doubt creeps in, unwelcome and dark, you remind yourself how lucky you are. Surrounded by people who adore you, support you, love you unconditionally. And then the night doesn't seem so dark. The light pours through the cracks.

You walk home from the beach, warmed and carried by the knowledge of love.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"This is ridiculous."

Stella's perched on the edge of your countertop, blush pink macaron in her hand.

"Good ridiculous?"

She scoffs, looking at you incredulously.

"Where did your confidence go? You never doubted yourself in school. Yes, good ridiculous. It shouldn't work, but it does."

Shouldn't work, but it does. Seems to be the story of your life at the moment.

"I need these on the menu."

"You don't think they're a little... pretentious? My best seller is a chocolate chip cookie. A honey and rosewater macaron isn't exactly a childhood favourite."

"Babe. That's the beauty of this. You can put whatever the hell you want out in your bakery. So what if they're unconventional? They're delicious. That's all that matters."

"Okay. Fine."

You relent, thinking about her earlier question. Where did your confidence go? When you graduated culinary school, you never doubted your abilities. Your technique, your flavours, your presentation - you had full faith in all of it. Now, you seem to be second guessing yourself.

You know it's because of your Tethering.

Before, you understood how the world worked. Good, bad, in between. Love, lust, the very clear difference between the two. You watched as other people found their forever person, and acknowledged their new journey.

And then you found Bucky. Or, Bucky found you.

Suddenly, the world you'd lived in before no longer made sense. The people, the places, the relationships, all impacted by the way you feel about your soulmate. Everything, everyone, everywhere, reminds you of Bucky. You're experiencing emotions you've never felt before. It's disorientating, confusing, complex. Your understanding of the world has changed completely.

It takes time to adjust.

No one ever talks about the way your Tethering turns your life upside down.

For some, it's completely positive. They enjoy the uprooting, revel in the change.

For others, it's a huge adaptation. One filled with tears, and confusion, and doubts.

Both are valid. Both are understandable.

You remind yourself of this every day.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"There's someone in the café that wants to speak to you."

The youngest waitress, Isabel, stands in the kitchen doorway, looking at you hopefully. You set down your piping bag and wash your hands, talking to her over your shoulder.

"Who is it?"

"No idea. Some guy. He's kinda hot. Brown hair, tall, beard."

Your heart skips a beat, breath caught in your lungs. Bucky jokes sometimes about coming to see you, but would he just show up announced? Do you want him to?

You can't feel it in your chest, you realise suddenly. You can't feel the ease, the relief, the knowing. Maybe being apart for so long has weakened your connection. The thought makes you strangely emotional.

You inhale carefully and thank her, before making your way out. It's almost closing time, and there's no one around other than the man stood with his back to you.

He turns around, and you realise quickly that your hope was misplaced. You've never seen this person before. He is handsome, admittedly. But he's not your soulmate.

"Hi."

"Hey. Are you the baker here?"

"I am."

He holds out his hand for you to shake, stepping closer.

"I'm Rafael."

You tell him your name, and he smiles, nodding.

"Forgive me if this is weird, but I had to meet you. To thank you properly, in person."

You don't say anything, so he continues.

"Let me, uh, explain. Sorry, should have started with that. My sister is sick. She's going through treatment currently, and it's been super hard on her. She's had no appetite whatsoever, and she's losing weight rapidly."

He takes a deep breath before continuing.

"A couple of weeks ago, I picked up a load of stuff from this place because my Mom was coming to visit. My sister tried your earl grey and lavender cookie, and ate the entire thing. It was the first time I've seen her eat for weeks. So, I came back and bought basically all of them every day."

You laugh, coming to a realisation. You wondered why those cookies were selling so well all of a sudden.

"I just wanted to say thank you. It might not seem like a big deal, but it's really huge for us. I also wanted to explain why all of those cookies were suddenly going missing at like ten in the morning."

You gesture at him to sit, the both of you taking a seat at one of the tables nearby.

You talk for almost an hour, listening intently to Rafael as he tells you about his family. He moved to California to be with his sister Maria when she got sick, no one else around to care for her. He asks about yours, and you tell him about your parents and their constant encouragement. He's also interested in how you got into baking, so you tell him all about culinary school, and the dreams your Grandma gave you when you were a kid.

"You're really talented, you know."

"I bet you say that to all of the bakers around here. But thank you."

His fingers brush yours where they're resting on the table, making you shiver.

"I'll make Maria her own box, if you like. I'll leave them behind the counter, just tell Isabel who you are."

"You'd do that for her?"

"Of course," you smile. "The idea that I'm helping someone with my silly little creations makes me really happy. We can work out a schedule, and I'll make sure I bake Maria some extras when I do my usual batch."

"You're incredible. Seriously. Thank you."

He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. The two of you are sat in the café as the sun sets, orange glow illuminating the room. You didn't expect to make a friend today. You're glad you have.

"Well, I should probably go and clean up the kitchen. You know where to find me, if you need anything. It was lovely to meet you, Rafael."

He rises when you do, smiling at you earnestly.

"You too. Nice to finally put a face to the cookie, so to speak."

You chuckle and show him out of the door, waving as he walks down the street. Suddenly, he turns around, striding back towards you.

"I'm so sorry if this is forward, and please feel free to say no, but... are you single? If you are, I'd love to ask you to dinner sometime."

The answer to that question is much more complicated than Rafael could ever imagine. So instead, you say,

"I'm not. I'm Tethered, actually."

His brows raise in surprise, but he's smiling.

"You are?"

"Yeah, I am. He doesn't live here, though. He lives back home, where my parents are."

"You guys are married?"

"No! Not yet. It's, uh... a complex... situation."

"Ah," he says, gentle, knowing look on his face. "I thought Tetherings weren't meant to be complex. Isn't that the whole point? That they're easy?"

You laugh, but it's not malicious. You're thinking about how sweetly naive he is, how he's got a huge storm coming his way one day.

"He's my Dad's best friend."

You're not sure why you're admitting this to a man you met an hour and a half ago, but you are. It's almost a relief, to get it off your chest again - to tell someone who's completely neutral, who doesn't know either of you.

"Woah."

"Yeah."

"That... is complicated."

"Yeah," you chuckle. "Understatement of the century."

Rafael leans against the wall, watching you intently. He's curious.

"How did your parents react?"

"They don't know yet."

His eyebrows raise almost comically high.

"Wait, what? How did you hide that? I thought it was supposed to be impossible to hide that you're Tethered. Although, I guess I had no idea, seeing as I asked you out."

"We wanted to figure it out for ourselves first, before telling anyone. And then I moved out here, so we're doing long distance. Like I said, complex."

"Understatement of the century," he laughs.

You look at each other for a moment, before he smiles.

"I'm sorry I asked you out. I wouldn't have, if I'd known."

"Please, don't apologise. I admire your... courage?" you grin. "And I appreciate you coming to see me today. I have like two friends here in Cali, so it's nice to feel like I've made another."

He smiles again, wider this time. Someone's going to be lucky to be Tethered to him one day, you think.

"I know it might surprise you, given my good looks and... courage," he chuckles, "but I don't have many friends out here either. I've been so focused on Maria, I haven't had time to socialise."

"The Universe works in funny ways, huh?"

"Sure does."

You wander back through the door, ready to close up for good this time.

"I'll see you tomorrow, for the cookies. And I'd love to meet Maria one day, if she's up for it."

"I'm sure she'd love to meet you. I'll bring her by."

"Thanks, Rafael."

"Of course. Thank you."

"Of course."

That night, when your Mom calls, you get to tell her you've made a new friend. That makes the both of you very happy.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're testing out a recipe in the kitchen of your new apartment when your phone rings.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I am, actually. I'm settling in."

"Good, I'm glad. I don't wanna keep you on the phone for too long, but I wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead, Dad. Anything."

"How would you feel about surprising your Mom for her birthday?"

"What kind of surprise?"

"I know you haven't been gone all that long, and I know it's kind of last minute, but, I was thinking you could come back to... be her gift? She really misses you, you know."

"I miss her too," you say softly, trying to keep your voice even. "I'll talk to Stella, see if we can figure something out. I'd really love to see you guys."

"We'd really love to see you too, sweetheart."

"I'll call you back later, when I've organised everything. Love you, Dad. See you soon, hopefully."

"Love you, kiddo. Proud of you, you know."

"I know," you smile. "I know."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The journey always seems shorter when you know you're going home.

You make it back in record time, salty ocean breeze whipping through your hair as you cruise along the roads. You take a deep breath and sigh it out, relief filling your lungs. It's good to be back.

You can't let your Mom see you, so you head straight back to your apartment. Your Dad told you they're in the process of renting it out, but they haven't made much progress yet. For now, it's still yours.

You inhale the familiar scent, smiling gently. There's something so particular about the way a place smells when you feel like you belong there. It's like home and comfort and ease all rolled into one.

You unpack a little, folding your clothes and tucking them into the dresser. You told Stella you'd probably stay a few days, wanting to spend as much time with your family as possible. You're rifling through the refrigerator and thinking about a grocery list when there's a knock at your door.

You know who it is.

A feeling of relief washes over your body, tension melting from your shoulders. Your lungs fill easier, your breath falls deeper, everything is a little brighter, a little more colourful.

You open the door to be met with the sight of Bucky Barnes.

He's in work pants and a white t shirt that's stained with grease and oil, heavy boots on his feet. He must have come straight from the Garage.

He looks at you carefully, as if he isn't sure that you're real. You rake your eyes over his form, trying to drink him in. All the pictures you've taken and saved don't do him justice.

He exhales, beaming grin appearing on his face.

"You're here."

You can't help but smile back, his happiness spreading through you.

"I'm here."

Bucky rushes forward and scoops you into his arms, enveloping you completely. He wraps himself around you as he tucks you into his chest, his grip tight and unrelenting. You breathe him in, overwhelmed with emotion and sensation. You didn't realise how much you needed this. Three months is too long.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, slight shake in his voice. He's holding off tears. So are you.

"My Dad wanted me to surprise my Mom for her birthday. It's all a secret."

He smiles, before leaning down to capture your lips in a knee buckling kiss. A kiss that says I missed you. A kiss that says I need you. A kiss that says please don't leave me again.

"How did you know?" you whisper when you pull away for air.

"I felt it. I think I knew the moment you arrived back in town. Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, for a second. But there's no mistaking that feeling. I had to come and see for myself."

"We're getting pretty good at this whole soulmate thing, huh?" you laugh, unaware of the tears running down your face. "I missed you, Buck. So much."

"I missed you too," he murmurs, kissing you again. "Didn't think I was going to survive, some days."

"Me too. Do you know how many times I stood with my car keys in my hand, ready to drive back to you?"

He chuckles and then sniffles, emotion dripping down his cheeks.

"I did exactly the same thing. So many times."

You wrap your arms around his middle, reveling in the way he smells like gasoline and home.

"How long are you here for?" he murmurs, worried he'll disturb the peace.

"I'm not sure. A good few days, at least."

"Okay," he breathes. "I can do a few days. We can do a few days."

"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't know, to be honest. It was all kinda last minute."

"It's okay, pretty thing," he mutters into your hair. "It was a nice surprise."

"You're coming tonight, right? To my Mom's party?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

You stay wrapped up in each other for a little while longer, savouring his warmth. He rubs absentminded patterns across the skin of your back, committing the softness of it to his memory.

"I should probably get back to work. I took off with no warning."

"You're the boss. You're allowed," you chuckle.

He laughs with you, and the sound lights up your nerves, illuminates your bones. It settles itself in the hollows of your ribcage, tangles itself in your heartstrings. It's like medicine.

"Can't wait to see you tonight," you whisper. "Wear something cute."

"I always do," he winks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Miss you already."

"Miss you more."

He looks at you, smiling.

"Man, we're the worst."

"Truly."

He kisses you once, twice, three times before finally leaving, reluctant to let you go. You spend the rest of the afternoon floating on air, relaxed and at ease. You haven't felt like this in a while.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your Dad sneaks you into the house through the side door, hiding you in the kitchen as he ushers your Mom through to the back yard.

It's decorated with floral garlands and streamers, flowers in vases covering the table he's set up. The golden, warm fairy lights illuminate the space, keeping it soft and intimate. He's been watching, carefully observing the way that she does things. He's recreated her party style perfectly.

There's a few of her closest friends waiting for her, gifts littering the spare chairs. Your Dad walks her outside, hands covering her eyes.

"Surprise!"

You watch through the door as your Mom gasps, grin on her face.

"Oh my God! You guys!"

She runs into your Dad, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I can't believe you managed to pull this off," she says in disbelief.

He sets her back down on the ground and kisses her gently.

"I got you something. I hope you like it."

That's your cue. You sneak out as quietly as possible, standing behind her.

"Happy Birthday, Mama."

She whips around to face you, shock written across her face. Her eyes well up, tears threatening to spill. Yours do the same, bottom lip quivering.

She throws her arms around you, tugging you into her.

"I'm so happy you're here, baby girl. I missed you so much."

"Missed you. You look beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you! Look at you, all sun kissed and glowy. You look so pretty, sweetheart."

You grin at her and she does the same back, your Dad beaming at your identical smiles.

"You're the best gift I've ever received. Then and now."

You're overwhelmed, suddenly, by the realisation that no matter what happens, no matter what life throws at you, no matter how many miles are between you - your Mom will always be in your corner. Your Dad will always be in your corner. Bucky will always be in your corner.

You think, for a moment, that despite everything, you might just be okay.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The night goes off without a hitch.

You drink, you laugh, you sing. You and your Mom dance to ABBA, Bowie, Donna Summer. Your Dad joins in, and can't help but grin every time he watches his girls together.

What a life, he thinks. I'm the luckiest man in the world.

When everyone gets a little past tipsy, your Mom changes the music to something slower, jazzier, richer. Your Dad pulls her into his chest, holding her close as they move to the melody. You're sat at the table taking off your heels when Bucky slides into the seat next to you. He pulls your foot into his lap and undoes the strap, sliding the shoe off gently. He rubs his thumb into your sole, smirking when you groan.

"Have you been avoiding me tonight, pretty baby?"

His cheeks are flushed slightly, top few buttons of his shirt open. He's been drinking a little, his walls lowered more than usual.

"I have to."

"Oh yeah?"

"I feel like I'm gonna burst into flames every time you look at me," you whisper. "I kinda want to rip your clothes off, baby."

He groans at the nickname. You know exactly what you're doing.

"It only takes one look for a minute too long to figure out how I feel about you, Buck. They'll work it all out instantly."

"Dance with me," he murmurs suddenly. "Your parents are too busy staring into each others eyes. Come on, honey. One dance."

His big blue eyes bore into yours, and you know you're fucked. You're never going to be able to say no to him.

"One dance," you whisper.

He takes your hand and leads you to the decked area, brightened by the golden lights. Bucky slides a hand over your back, resting there carefully. You intertwine your fingers with his and step into him, embracing the warmth that rolls off his body.

I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday begins to play, and the two of you start to sway gently, eyes never leaving each others. Bucky pulls you in closer, and you melt into him. You don't care about the repercussions anymore.

Maybe it's the wine talking. Maybe it's something else.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"That was close!"

Your Mom's giggling as your Dad holds her, having just saved her from tripping down the front steps. Everyone's giddy, both from drinking and from laughing.

"Sweetheart. Bucky. Come back for lunch tomorrow. Your Dad ordered too much catering, and we need help eating it."

"Mama, are you sure?"

"I want to see you as much as possible before you go, babygirl. You too, Buck. I feel like we don't see you as much as we used to."

"He'll be there," you reply before he can protest. "We'll carpool, and I'll bring a strawberry and cream tart that I made for you."

She kisses you on the cheek, your Dad leaning in to kiss the other side.

"Love you both."

"Love you," they say in unison, laughing and yelling jinx. "Get home safe, you two!"

"I'll take care of her," Bucky chuckles. "Always."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Why don't you see my parents much anymore?"

You and Buck are walking home along the sandy coastal path, fingers intertwined and sides pressed together. You look up at him, frowning slightly when he hesitates.

"Don't lie to me, James. I can feel it, remember."

You place a hand on your chest to remind him, and he nods.

"It's not the same here without you."

You weren't expecting the sincerity. It knocks you off balance a little.

You stop when you reach a wooden bench, sitting down and pulling him with you.

"So you're isolating yourself from the people who love you?"

He smiles, sadness rife in his eyes. Your tough guy act is crumbling.

"Not on purpose. It just kinda happened."

"You promised you'd talk to me, Buck. Especially if it got too hard. You need to accept support from people, or everything is going to come crashing down."

"I know. I know. But every time I go to their house, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I go to the beach, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I walk past your building, I'm expecting you to be there, waiting for me to pick you up. Even when I'm sailing, I can't stop thinking about that day we spent on the boat."

"The other day I had to make three batches of buttercream, because I messed up the first two. I was so distracted thinking about you that I split them both."

He laughs, then, wholehearted and genuine. You can't help but join him, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.

"Bucky, you have to promise that you'll keep going, even without me. You have to see my Mom and Dad like you used to, you have to still sail and go to the beach. You can't put your life on hold for me."

He takes a deep breath, sliding an arm around your shoulders to pull you in closer.

"Okay. I promise."

You whip your head around to look at him.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that, honey. You're right. I've been waiting for you to come back, so I can start living again. But life is still happening, whether you're here or not."

"Wise words, wise man," you smile. "Not a minute goes by where I don't think of you. You know that, don't you?"

"I know. I feel it."

You watch as he brings your linked hands to his chest, placing them there. You rest your head on his shoulder, lulled into calm by the steady melody of his heart. You swear it beats to the rhythm of your name.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you can't bear the idea of separating, so Buck comes home with you.

"Have you got a blanket?" he asks as he's kicking off his shoes.

"I have. What for?"

"The couch."

You process for a moment before it clicks.

"You're not sleeping on the couch, Buck."

"No?"

"No. I want your ridiculous, radiator-like body heat in bed with me."

He smiles, all giddy and lopsided, before striding across the room to you. Cradling your face in his rough hands, he kisses you with fervour. He's making up for lost time.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling, smirking when he groans. He retaliates by grabbing your ass and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you through to your bedroom, lips never leaving yours.

Throwing you down onto the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head, watching you hungrily as you do the same with your dress. You're left in your underwear, leaving little to the imagination.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "Makes me want to cry."

You reach for him as he settles on top of you, your hand sliding along his stubbled cheek.

"I'm so glad you're feeling what I'm feeling," you whisper. "I'd think I was going insane otherwise."

Bucky kisses you again, before trailing his lips across your jaw, your ear, your neck. He's careful not to leave any marks, as much as he wants to. You glide your hands along the expanse of his shoulders, his back, his biceps. He's so strong, so broad. It makes you ache.

"So fuckin' pretty," he mumbles against your chest. "Like a goddamn dream."

You throw your head back as he attaches his mouth to your tits, nipping and sucking as he goes. Your hands are in his hair again, reveling in the way his groans vibrate through you.

Bucky slots his knee in between your legs as he kisses across your chest, smirking when you grind your hips into it. You chase the friction as best you can, moaning when it hits you just right.

"Needy baby. You don't want my fingers? My mouth? No? Just my knee?"

You nod, then shake your head. You're not sure what you're asking for, drunk on him already.

"Please, Buck. Anything."

"I'll give you whatever you want if you keep saying my name like that."

He makes quick work of pulling your underwear down your legs, swiping his fingers through your wet heat.

"Oh, fuck," he chokes. "Fuck, honey. Is this all for me? Hmm?"

"Yes, yes, yes."

"Yeah?"

"It's yours, Buck. I'm yours."

Bucky drops his head forward, bumping your nose with his.

"I think that's my favourite thing you've ever said," he mumbles against your mouth.

You reach up to kiss him, sucking his tongue before biting at his lips. You can't get close enough. Every inch of your skin is pressed to his, and you still want more.

Bucky crawls down the bed, situating himself between your legs. He nudges at you with his nose before diving in, lapping at you like a man starved.

You'd forgotten what people said about sex when you're Tethered, but it all comes back to you now. Everything is heightened, your senses on overdrive. It's like Bucky has the handbook to your body, and all he has to do is read the instructions the Universe has given him.

He's got you teetering on the edge in no time, right on the precipice. No ones ever made you feel like this. It feels like some sort of small miracle is happening, an otherworldly connection.

"Give it to me, honey baby," he murmurs into you. "Let me see how pretty you look when you come."

You tug at his hair as you reach your climax, the vibrations of his groan only prolonging your release. Bucky helps you ride it out, only ceasing his action when he's satisfied you're satisfied.

He rests his head against your thigh and looks up at you as you come down, breathing heavily.

"You good?"

"So good," you grin. "Never better."

"Me neither," he whispers, crawling up your body to kiss you again. You taste yourself and whine, desperate to feel closer to him.

"Need you," you demand against his lips. "Need you more than anything."

"I know, baby," he soothes as he smooths the hair back from your face. "Gonna give you everything you want. Anything in the world."

You're on the verge of tears again, completely overwhelmed. He's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. You think maybe you would, if he asked you to.

Bucky slides home in one gentle thrust, easy as breathing. The both of you exhale, savouring the moment. It's like nothing either of you have ever felt before.

You pull his face down to you, resting your foreheads against each other.

"Buck, I-"

"I know," he breathes. "Fuck, I know."

"Need you to move, baby."

He nods and kisses you sweetly, before pulling his hips back and gliding forward. The angle is just right, both of you keening.

"Fuck, honey. So pretty. So tight. Fuck."

Bucky sets a steady rhythm, not too fast, not too slow. It's like he can read your mind, knowing exactly what you need. All you can say is his name as stars cloud your vision.

He slides his hand down your front, rubbing perfect circles on your clit with his fingers. You clamp down on him and he groans, low and gutteral.

"Need you to come, pretty baby," he whispers hoarsely. "Please. Waited so long for this. Please."

The desperation in his tone is what throws you into your release, muscles tensing and back arched. You grip his biceps, scratching your nails into his sun kissed skin.

Bucky can't hold on any longer, falling over the edge with you. The way he says your name as he does will be ingrained in your mind forever.

He drops his weight onto you entirely, no longer able to hold himself up. You wrap your arms around him, drawing absent minded patterns across his back. You're both sweating and panting. You're both completely content.

"Holy shit," he whispers after a while.

"You think it's gonna be like that every time?" you ask, grinning.

Bucky rolls off you and lands on the bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.

"Honey, just you wait. I've got moves you've never seen."

You snort, unable to hold in your laughter. You're floating on cloud nine, satiated and warm.

"You're the worst," you giggle, running your fingers over his abs gently.

The two of you stay intertwined for hours, enjoying the way your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. You both drift in and out of sleep, conversing in the gaps. At some points, you just lay in silence, completely comfortable. No one needs to say anything. You both know what the other person is thinking.

Eventually, the sun rises, casting the room in a golden orange glow. Bucky looks like an angel, illuminated by the morning light. You wonder for a second if he is, sent down as a gift to you.

Suddenly, you feel an intense sadness in your chest. You look up at Bucky from where you lay across him, and see a single tear drip down his cheek.

"I don't want you to go."

The only sound that can be heard is his sorrow hitting the pillow.

"I don't think I want to go."

He strokes your hair softly, taking a deep breath to try and get a handle on his emotions.

"You have to, baby. It's your dream."

Your bottom lip wobbles for a second, before the words come spilling out.

"You're my dream."

Bucky sniffles, and you continue.

"I could have nothing, but I have everything if I have you."

You sit up and Bucky does too, capturing your lips in a tear stained kiss.

"We'll be okay, my honey girl."

You crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his warmth bleed into your bones.

"I know," you say, unsure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.

You know you'll be okay. It just doesn't feel like it right now.

You wonder how many times you can keep leaving and coming back before one of your hearts breaks for good.

tag list part one

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff   @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara   @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen   @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance  @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

[kooktrash]

his special secret | kim taehyung

summary: you’re an art student who has recently broken up with your cheating ex boyfriend. he’s your art professor recovering from a divorce just a year ago. what happens when your relationship goes beyond that of a professor and his college student?

➢ genre/au: college art professor!tae x art student!y/n [she/her… afab] [age gap 9 years]

➢ 12.5k words

warnings: smüt. secret relationship. tae is 30, y/n is 21. car sëx. oral [f&m]. make out. groping. tae is divorced. both got cheated on in past. jealous tae. dirty talk. makeout in art closet. y/n is confident but going thru it. professor x student. no protection. y/n is on top.

[REUPLOAD] HIS SPECIAL SECRET 2

You know when you're really mad to the point that you wanna cry? Not because you're sad but because you're so mad and you can't even act on that anger, especially not right now, you couldn't even show that you're upset because you're in class. Obviously it started off with your stupid ass ex-boyfriend's tenth apology text where it was mostly just him trying to gaslight you. Then it was because of missing the bus to campus which made you have to get a taxi and spend way more money than necessary, but get this, you spent like 20$ so you wouldn't miss your first class and yet it was canceled. Canceled! After spending that money to make it for that specific lecture you walk over to the room only to find a big fat 'canceled' sign on the door. Plus,  you had enough time to catch the next bus if the professor only posted or emailed everyone saying it was cancelled, hell you could’ve even slept longer.

Your phone is still being blown up and you just can’t focus on your painting today. You can’t mix the right shade and it is beginning to drive you crazy. Your palette is getting too full and your water is so dirty that it isn’t even cleaning the brush anymore. You had already been trying to keep your cool this entire time but now you can’t take it anymore. You were so upset with the trillion texts you were being sent and with your painting not going the way you wanted it too, oh and missing the bus and class being canceled, you were very clearly overstimulated and overwhelmed. You felt like there is nothing you can do but just give up for the day.

You stood abruptly taking your brushes and palette to the sink in the back of the room. You dried and packed them all up not caring to say anything to anyone else as you picked up your bags and canvas. You put your things away and left, not turning back to professor who looked up from helping another person to watch you leave so suddenly. You finally got your phone out and dialed one of your friend's number hearing it ring twice before they picked.

"What do you want? I'm trying to take a nude here?"

"Can you pick me up? I'm done with classes," you asked him. You weren't even that far from the classroom but you were done. You had been working on the same part for over twenty minutes and it was not getting any better so you just had to go.

"You're lucky I was gonna go get Bora too, I'll be there in fifteen," Jungkook said finishing up his last shirtless picture before going for you two.

"Will that be all for today?" A voice spoke up behind you as your call came to an end. You jumped looking back and following the voice's direction and froze at the sight of your professor.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I just—I can't focus today," you sighed rambling out a shitty excuse. He huffed crossing his arms over his chest. You swear your professor came from a world where only the most attractive people are born. It wasn't even you being dramatic, it's just the facts. He had dark hair always styled neatly, his face was angular yet soft and his dark brows made his expressions more attractive. His voice was always so low that it was quite literally mouth watering and he loved wearing long sleeve button ups where he could just roll his sleeves up if he got too hot. You looked at his face, snapping yourself out of your thoughts at his expression.

He looked annoyed, but he kept himself neutral as he spoke, "The exhibition is next month. You only have a few weeks to finish the piece before the submission deadline. Don't you think you should try to focus on your painting?"

"I did try Professor Kim, I've just been—there's just a lot going on and—" you stopped suddenly staring at his left hand, a silver band no longer there. You stuttered a little to start again, "I apologize."

"Mhm," he muttered looking away from you to the others inside the art studio focused on their work, "Just go on, make sure the next time you step into the studio you're more focused."

Dick. "Of course sir," you said turning your back to leave finally. You got to the campus entrance just in time meeting Bora along the way and the two of you got into Jungkook's car. He was shirtless as he drove.

"What's up with you?" You asked buckling yourself in as you got in the passenger's seat. He was on his phone looking up at you through sunglasses that made you laugh, "You look like such a douche."

"Shut up I told you I was taking nudes," he said as he drove away, "Plus I'm hungover and the sun's way too bright but I wanna know what took you two so damn long."

"Oh my god I left my laptop in the journalism room so I had to go all the way to get it and you know I hate walking too much," Bora said from the back seat. You sighed, "Mr. Kim caught me outside and he kind of lectured me but it's whatever. You won't believe what I noticed today—"

"What?" The two said in harmony ready for any sort of gossip. You looked genuinely surprised, "He doesn't have a wedding ring anymore." They leaned back in disappointment.

"Yeah we know," Bora said sarcastically, "Everyone's been talking about it since last semester. The word is he must've gotten divorced over the summer."

"Wait so it's almost been a year? How did I not know? He's so young," you said with furrowed brows trying to understand what you were being told. Jungkook sighed dramatically, "Because you had a boyfriend and you're not into older men."

"He's like 30, that's not old, first of all," Bora cut in, "And Y/n has daddy or mommy issues, so she's probably into older men."

"How did this get turned on me?" You asked looking between the two before settling your eyes on Bora, "He really got divorced? I thought he'd been with her since he was 20."

“Yeah, apparently word on campus is that he caught her with her coworker," Bora told you, "Minho from the Tech department heard it in the staff room. Apparently he was asked to help with some computer problem and two teachers were talking about it. He told his girlfriend and she's told basically everyone."

"Why do so many care?" Jungkook asked pulling up to your apartment. Bora gasped, "Why? Because he is literally the world's most attractive man? He's like a God. I promise you everyone has a crush on him and that's why so many of the beginner art class was filled. Everyone wanted to have him as a teacher even if they weren't art majors."

"Is that why you signed up for an art theory class this semester?" You asked turning to her. She nodded with a pout, "Yeah but it was already filled. You're so lucky he's head of the department and you're in your third year. You get to work with him more since his focus is on proficient students.”

"He's super strict though," you told her with a defeated sigh, "But I guess he's honest. You have to be ready to face critique and he's helpful. He just makes you feel like shit when you're not focused."

"I bet he's an ass because he's probably not getting laid," Jungkook laughed, "Divorce does that to people. Turns them bitter."

"Are you kidding? Look at him, women must be all over him, hell half of us on campus would gladly have him," Bora swooned. You looked down at your phone, yet another text message from your shitty ex-boyfriend.

"Y/n you should sleep with him," Bora joked, "Since you're both newly single and you'll be a good shoulder for him to cry on."

"Thanks but I like guys my own age and I’m pretty sure being his student already complicates things enough," you said absentmindedly before reading over the newest text. It's been at least two weeks and he still hasn't quit trying to gaslight you. It was ridiculous and so damn tiring. Your professor was right, you had to focus on art and this was only a distraction. You'll have to stay over time tomorrow because he hasn't left you alone today.

namjoon: I srsly don't get y you're still ignoring me

namjoon: you kno I'd never do something to hurt u

        One of the best parts about being an art student who has finished their prerequisites is that now you can really just focus on your work. So you'd basically go to one or two art classes and then you would go and work on your art. Bora was right when she said he was your mentor and it was in fact pretty exclusive.

You sold a painting last year in the Spring Art Exhibit for the university and Professor Kim became a lot more helpful. Despite his young age he had great connections in the art world from financers to auctioneers and museums. He helped proficient students participate in more exhibits and some art auctions where they could be noticed for their work and now you're one of them. Obviously he could be strict but it's because he saw potential in you and you definitely did not want to disappoint him. That's why you've spent majority of your day here well into the evening. You did have to work later but it would be open for at least another hour and that's enough time to adjust some color blocking. The sunset was long gone and you’ve barely been twenty minutes into your groove when someone else entered the studio.

You lowered the music coming from your speaker immediately at the sight of your teacher. He looked at you for a moment before continuing his walk to his desk. You tried going back to your work but now all you could think about is how dumb you were for not noticing he was divorced even if it didn’t matter to you at all. He was fishing some black portfolio out of a drawer as he spoke, "A custodian should be by soon to mop the floors and lock the room. You'll probably want to leave soon."

"Yes, I’ll start cleaning up now," you sighed as you looked at the very little work you got done. You could obviously try and work on it at home but that was too distracting. Your apartment was small and filled with distractions and there wasn't enough room for your things. It was a three canvas piece and with the easel and all your paints, brushes, palettes, and sketches spread out on the floor there's no room. At least here you had places to lock it up in. It got awkward again as you cleaned up your space and he did something at his desk. So, awkwardly, you tried to fill the silence, "Any plans this weekend, sir?"

"Nothing too interesting," he said seriously as he shuffled through some documents to find something, "Probably nothing like what all of you get up to on the weekend."

You assumed he was talking about college students. You went to one of those Universities that was extremely popular for producing majority of the well-paid lawyers, athletes, engineers, actors, musicians and artists. The student succession rate was high and yet every weekend every college student was out there getting completely shitfaced because of stress. You shrugged, "Well mine’s not interesting either, I have to work all weekend."

You doubt he cares at all but you said it anyway. Mr. Kim left shortly after with a quick goodbye and you rushed to catch the bus.

        Taehyung's weekend didn't completely start till Saturday night. His Friday night was filled with directing a new upcoming event happening. The exhibit is in a month and Taehyung's been stuck calling buyers and businesses for confirmation in their attendances. It was really a large charity event where large corporations get publicity and popularity from but a lot of the students who have managed to put their name out there are pretty well known in the art world. Many have gone on to create their exhibitions and events for their art and have had large commissions. The school did a really good job at providing their students with advantages in their careers and Taehyung was pretty proud to be helping his art major students. Of course it was stressing but it was an honor at his age. Obviously it helped that his parents were well known art curators and have worked with foreign and home artists for years. The only thing that was hard is how much work it really was and with the shitty year he's had he needs a break.

"It's been a year Taehyung, nobody's telling you to find another wife," his best friend Jimin said as him and his two friends sat at the counter of some lounge bar. "We're just saying you should at least have post-divorce sex with some random chick and let off some steam. It's a Saturday night, I say we hit up some night club after this."

"No thanks, I'm not in the mood to be shoved around by drunk college kids," Yoongi cut in as he read over the drink menu as the bartender showed up. He gave his drink order first putting the attention on Taehying and Jimin making him look up. His mouth opened slightly in surprise at the sight before him.

You managed to hide your surprise at actually seeing your teacher outside of campus but you were working and he was with friends. He was the one to stumble over his words when he gave you his drink order. Jimin smirked evilly when you turned to make the drinks at the way Taehyung was acting. You wore a black skirt and fitted black top with your hair and make up done.

"Well well well," Jimin whispered to the other two, "I guess I don't need to force you on blind dates. You can chat up the bartender."

"It was pretty awkward hearing you try and talk to her," Yoongi added in making Taehyung shake his head in disagreement. Still, he continued, "No, I—she’s my—she’s too young.”

"Taehyung, look at your gorgeous face, I doubt it matters, plus you’re a college professor! You’ve got a PhD, you’re well off, you’re artistic! It's no wonder everyone throws themselves at you, so go at it," Jimin said making Taehyung laugh, "Do you have a crush on me Chimmy?"

"Of course, I'm one of those college girls of yours who join your lectures just to for you to notice them," Jimin joked shaking his head, "And yet Jihyun is the one who cheated and not you."

"Way to bring that up," Yoongi hit him letting them conversation drop as you came back with the drinks taking their money, Taehyung looked after you. Did you work every weekend? He didn't expect you to be the type to work here. He doesn't usually pay attention to his students aside from during his teachings but you were obviously a different story along with all of his advanced students. He was your mentor and you spent a lot of time in the art studio. You mostly kept to yourself and did your work. He usually saw you stressed out but the other day was the first time in two years that you just walked out of his class. It was hard juggling the art piece from the Spring Art Exhibit and the final for their realism class but that's life and you leaving was so out of character to him.

It was still weird to see you give up that day. He obviously didn't know how you acted outside of the art department but he really was surprised especially considering the way you were dressed. He also didn't know you were the type to be friends with muscular men covered in tattoos and piercings.

"Holy shit that really is your professor," Jungkook whispered to you as he wiped the inside of some shot glasses. You and him stood at the other end of the bar gossiping. Jungkook smirked, "This is a sign, you should sleep with him."

"Do you ever think about something other than sex?" "Not really."

“Alright well focus on your own sex life and not mine. I just dumped Namjoon like three weeks ago," you complained, "Plus I'm pretty sure there's a rule against student and staff relations."

"Alright but you're 21 and he's like 30 so legally..." Jungkook trailed off giving you enough time to cut in. You sighed, "Just stop."

After some time you did circle back to the group of men and took more drink orders. While you were there one of them excused themselves to the restroom and the other got a call. In the end, Taehyung was the only one left. You found yourself stalling as you wiped your side of the lowered counter in front of him.

"I'm off," Jungkook came by patting your shoulder, "Want me to wait for you?" You shook your head at him, "No, I have to close remember?"

"Alright well call me if you change your mind," then he reached out and flicked your forehead, "See ya, Ugly."

You rolled your eyes swatting his hand away as your cheeks reddened in embarrassment. He's such an asshole. Taehyung didn't say anything for a second and then said, "So this is where you go after the studio?"

"On the weekends yeah," you said biting your lip nervously, "Also sorry if I seemed disrespectful but you're out with your friends and I didn't want to interrupt."

"Don't worry about it, I'm not offended I was just surprised. You're the first student I've seen outside of school-related events," he confessed with a small smile. From what he saw of you with that guy you definitely seemed outgoing. You seemed playful and maybe a little sarcastic but when he sees you in the studio you’re serious. When you talk to him it seems like you're always on edge and he still wanted to know what made you walk out the other day. Sensing another wave of awkwardness coming between you two you took a glass in your hand, "How about a drink? On the house."

"That's alright, I can pay—" "Sir, it's just one drink it'll be fine," you waved him off already mixing it before handing it to him, "You seem stressed."

Your fingertips touched his on accident as he took the drink. Your eyes locked once more before you were backing away to help some people on the other end. Taehyung has never looked at any of his students sexually but obviously he'd never been blind to the attractive ones. He'd been married for five years and he was loyal unlike his ex wife. Plus, he knew the position he was in and what it'd do to his career if he ever got involved with a student so the thought never came to mind. Right now though, he's having a hard time seeing you as a student and not just someone from the bar. Thankfully, his friends returned to him just as you caught him staring again.

Bora would be losing her shit over your small interaction with your professor. He was so unbelievably attractive and to see him in a setting like this made you want to do very bad things with him. Maybe their jokes about using your Professor for rebound sex was getting to your head. Obviously your friends never meant anything serious by that but wow did that seem do-able right now, especially considering the fact that he keeps staring at you.

"Come on Taehyung, let's go clubbing, I haven't gone in a while," Jimin begged him turning to Yoongi, "You too, let's go."

"Nah man, I'm not cut out for that anymore. I’m older than the two of you," Yoongi reminded making Jimin roll his eyes. He pulled on Taehyung's arm, "Let's go get you laid."

"Shut up, I'm not going, why don't you go? You don't need us," Taehyung told him. Jimin huffed gathering his things, "Fine. I will."

They waved him off watching him leave until it was just the other two. Yoongi sighed, "I should probably head home before Jieun comes to get me herself. It was nice drinking with you though, call me if you need anything."

Taehyung knows that he should just head out too. His two friends just left and he's got no reason to still be at the bar but he waited for you to come back and clean up their glasses.

"Your friends left already?" You asked him wiping at the counter.

"Uh yeah, I think I need to sober up before I head out though," he cleared his throat nervously, "Can I get a water?"

"Of course," you left for a second to fill it before coming back. You set the glass down in front of him stalling a little before asking, "I don't know if this is inappropriate or anything but are you alright sir? I, uh, I actually just realized you're not wearing your ring anymore."

His breath hitched for a second. He'll be a year since his divorce in two months and you've just now noticed? Well he doesn't expect his students to notice a small detail but still felt weird to hear it. He nodded in acknowledgment to your question, "It's alright, but yes, I'm not wearing my ring anymore. I had a divorce last summer."

"Wow," you said absentmindedly, "Well I hope you're doing well. I know this isn't all that similar but I actually just recently ended a relationship too."

"Oh?" Taehyung questioned with peaked interest. The nagging part in his brain was telling him to go before he got too curious about his student's personal life, "Is everything alright with you then?"

"Yeah it's fine," you shrugged leaving for a second to help someone else. Taehyung still waited even if he knew it was his chance to return to his empty home. When you came back he rushed to question you, "So, what made the two of you end it? Was he someone you were with since high school?"

"God no, we'd only been dating a few months but he still cheated," you blurted out, the topic still annoying you, "I mean, you know, some people just aren't worth it."

"He cheated on you?" Taehyung asked looking you up and down without much thought. He might be crossing the line with the next thing he says. You nodded no longer caring about keeping this to yourself, "With one of my closest friends actually. Safe to say I don't talk to either of them anymore."

"You're beautiful."

You froze. His words were mumbled behind his hand as he looked away from you, "I mean... you seem like a great person and I don't see why anyone would ever choose someone else over you." You didn't say anything for a moment before nodding your head, "Well I could say the same for you Mr. Kim."

Ah, so even if you just found out he was divorced clearly you’ve heard the rumors. It was embarrassing that his students and others knew what happened. The conversation changed after that. He asked about your progress and you went into detail about your work. He nodded listening, "Well maybe I could offer some guidance after class."

"I'd really appreciate that, and once again I'm sorry for walking out of class the other day," you bit your lip nervously and it had Taehyung doing the same. Stop, Y/n's your student and is at least nine years younger than you, he told himself.

His breath hitched as he tried to push his thoughts away before something bad happened. The two of you talked for another hour or two, before you knew it the bar was supposed to close soon as it was past midnight. Taehyung noticed the a sense of all other customers with a sense of dread, he'd have to leave now. He actually enjoyed talking to you, he's never connected with his students but you were easy to talk to. Obviously that was already inappropriate and he should just forget all of this but it was hard. He liked having someone to listen even if it weren't his close friends. He sighed as he stood, "So, you're closing soon?"

He was setting some cash down on the counter, a good tip that you tried to refuse. You nodded, "Yeah, I've gotta do some cleaning up unfortunately."

"How do you get home? You ride the bus?" He asked playing with his keys. You pushed some hair behind your ears, "No actually I'll probably have to call a cab since it's so late."

"Nonsense, if you're up for it I can give you a lift," Taehyung offered up before he could even process what he was saying, "I mean, I don't know how comfortable I'd feel letting you get in a stranger's car this late at night when I can wait for you. Unless you think that's inappropriate." It was.

You nodded, "I mean, if you don't mind waiting..." "I don't," Taehyung rushed to say, "I'll bring my car around to the front and wait for you alright? It gives me a chance to sober up some more anyway. You've got my number right?"

You did since he was your mentor. A lot of you students who were in advanced classes had his number since you all had a group chat. Taehyung would be lying if he said he hasn't had female students in the past be a little too suggestive in his messages but he always shut it down right away. The only reason he wanted to take you home tonight is because he actually enjoyed talking with you. He hadn't spoken with a woman this much in a long time unless it was school or work related. He's shot down every one of Jimin's offers to set him up with someone and when they'd go out drinking Taehyung was never interested in hooking up with strangers.

When you got in his car he passed you his jacket to drape over your legs and you thanked him, "Thank you so much, cabs are so expensive."

"Yeah, I bet they are, just tell me when to turn, alright?" Taehyung said as he pulled onto the street heading down the direction you pointed to. Your phone sat on your lap ringing and you didn't hang up or answered. If you hung up he'd just keep calling and calling.

He looked down at your phone before shifting his eyes back on the road, hand adjusting his grip on the steering wheel, "Do you need to answer that?"

"Huh? No it's just my ex," you told him honestly staring out the window, "He's still bothering me all the time."

"Mm," he hummed in acknowledgement as you pointed at what street to turn down, "He's still trying even after sleeping with your former friend?"

"Yeah, he thinks apologizing over and over again is gonna change my mind," you said with a shrug, "But that's done with thankfully. Don't you feel that way? Happy it's over?"

He waited a moment trying to think it over. Is this conversation with you wrong? Well in reality, getting you in his car this late at night is wrong. Thinking about how your perfume filled his car with a soft floral scent. Plus you were pretty, he'd thought that the other day too when he caught you in the studio so late. Your hair had been pinned back and your smock was covered in paint along with your hands. He had found himself stalling his mission that night before rushing home once he realized it.

"Um, I am happy it's over but it was also a ten year relationship that she threw away for one night," Taehyung said to you, "I'm happy it's over but it still upsets me. Sorry, maybe we shouldn't be talking about this?"

"Of course I'm so sorry Mr. Kim," you said turning away from him, "Um it's just up the street. The building with a gate."

He nodded driving forward. He was about to know where one of his student's lives. But why didn't he want to drop you off now? When he pulled up to the side of the building still a little hidden under the night sky he turned to you. Should he walk you up to make sure you get u wide safely or would that be taking it too far?

Maybe you were crazy or maybe your friends really got to your head because you did not want to leave. Obviously before you thought he was just your hot, married professor but now? After spending over an hour just talking to him and then him dropping you off home was messing with your head. Plus, you went through very similar experiences and he had to be at least a little into you to go out of his way to wait for you to take you home. Obviously it was wrong since he was your professor but in reality the age part didn't matter. Sure, you've always said you like guys your age but just look at Kim Taehyung.

So yeah, you were taking your sweet time unbuckling yourself and giving him his jacket back. He didn't say anything watching you sit up trying to get your things and for some reason he really did not want you to go. What he hadn't expected was the look in your eyes when you caught him staring again. This was wrong. He had to stop looking at you like that. He was nine years older than you and your college professor.

But then, you surprised him when you reached over the middle console. He didn't even have to think about what was going on when his hand was on your jaw pulling you closer until your lips met. He released a soft groan into your mouth letting his tongue lick along your lower lip until you gave him room to explore your mouth.

You were so eager, a hand on his thigh to keep yourself up as he tongue kissed you.  He should not be doing this, he knows he shouldn't but it's been so long since he's had anyone's hands on him but his own. He did not sleep around and he was acting out of character with you but in this moment he just needed to have you. The nagging feeling was still in the back of his head though.

You trailed wet kisses down his jaw, kissing along his neck arching your back into him. He couldn't stop the slide of his hand over the back of your skirt, groping a little at your butt as he reached over to touch you too. Even then he just had to speak, "This is wro—ng, you're my student."

You're not completely sure what came over you in the car but at the moment you did not care. Your hand slid closer to his inner thighs making his muscles tense. You were getting a little too close to his groin now as you kissed him shutting him up. He kissed back hungrily despite his words and then your hand was running over his middle. You sighed into his lips, "Nobody has to know, just tonight."

Taehyung didn't put up much of a fight after that. He let you unzip his jeans and button. His hand was at your throat pulling you into him while his other hand trailed down your back. Your short skirt was a little too tempting to reach out and touch. He licked his lips when you kissed down the middle of his collarbone where the top buttons of his shirt were undone. With the first grade of your hand palming at his growing erection he groped at your butt in the skirt. He nodded with a lick of his lips, "Just tonight."

He couldn't stop the deep moan that he released when your hand dipped into his briefs. He was sporting a semi but with the first touch of your hand on his hardening cock. You still hadn't even looked down to notice he was thick and long. He felt heavy in your hand as you palmed over him, too dry to feel good so you brought your hand up. You held it to his chin and with his eyes locked on yours he spit into it watching you do the same before bringing it back down to his member. He jumped at the first feel of the slick grip you had on him now creating a wet slide around him. He was panting, it'd been way too long since the last time someone else touched him.

Also, it helped that it was past midnight and how far was well tinted so you couldn't see anything from the outside. The car wasn't even on anymore. His hips met your hand's efforts to jerk him off, moaning into your mouth as he grabbed a handful of ass. After some time you pulled away from him making sure to pull on his lips as you backed off watching him try and chase after you. He watched through lust filled eyes as you shunned further toward your door backing your butt up so you could lean over the middle console until you were face to face with his slick cock. He bit his lip in anticipation, no longer thinking about how wrong this was the second your tongue licked up a fat stripe up the length of his member.

"Is this alright, sir?" You asked holding his cock in a loose fist while you left soft kisses on his mushroom tip. Your tongue poked at the vein on his underside, rounded innocent eyes staring at him that he knew were anything but innocent. He'd never been with anyone this young, he'd never even thought about this before he'd been married for five years and dating for another four or five. She'd been the last women he was ever with and his relationships prior to her hadn't meant anything. Yet, here he was enjoying the warm tight feel of your mouth on him that had him forgetting everything wrong with this.

He licked his lips, "Y-Yes, but call me Taehyung." He liked hearing you call him sir too damn much but considering all his students call him that he couldn't think about it right now.

"Alright Taehyung," you leaned up to peck his lips in a quick kiss that had him craving more. Then you flashed him a mischievous smile before coming back down to his member, "I'm gonna suck your dick now."

Taehyung shudders out another velvety groan as your lips finally wrapped around his whole tip. Hips rise off the leather seat to meet your mouth hoping to get himself deeper.  Wet warmth around his length and he's gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles whiten. You're far from gentle. The flick of your tongue over a thick vein before lapping at the slit on his head with every bob. The gentle suck of the tip. You've never found so much pleasure from sucking a man's cock before, but then came your hot Professor. Nine years older than you, too young to be divorced, and the man he taught you about art all week. None of that matters though when it comes to the deep growls and husky moans he releases as a hand plays with the end of your panties. A thing paid of things he had to pull out your underwear, fingers running over your covered slit.

Taehyung had decided the moment you reached into his jeans that he wanted to fuck his student. He wanted to let out all his pent up sexual frustration on his pretty little student who was just so eager to take his cock in their mouth. Who would've known he would've broken his head long dry spell for some college pussy. He brought his hand back from your underwear sticking his fingers into his mouth to lather them in spit.

He groaned when he hit the back of your throat relishing in the tightness of your mouth as he slid his hand to your head again, pulling the poor excuse for underwear to let his finger run down your slit toward your clit. You were so fucking wet, stupid wet actually and it only turned him on more.

His finger brushed roughly against your skin, a moan escaping your throat that sent vibrations around his dick. Taehyung toyed with your clit feeling more slick being produced by his touch. It was so fucking hot. The sec with his wife had gotten boring and repetitive over the years but this felt new and exciting. You were attractive to him from your looks to your art work and it was all hitting him at once.

"That's it sweetheart, take it all in your mouth," Taehyung panted stopping his motions, but pressing down against your clit. Your head began to bob harshly now, sucking him into your mouth while your hand stroked whatever didn't felt. He was feeling close but with how tight you felt, he needed to stretch you.

Taehyung hummed, rubbing circles around your cunt, his thumb gently massaging your clit. "Am I making you this wet baby? Should I punish you for it?"

You moaned and whined as Taehyung's fingers slammed into you, while rubbing your clit. You caught him by surprise when you bounced your hips forcing his finger in and out of your cunt at a speed you wanted and it made him groan deep in his chest.

He didn't stop fucking your throat as you fucked yourself on his finger giving him time to push another in too. He wished he could see this from an outside point of you. This thirty year old man getting his dick milked dry by a hot twenty one year old art student of his while he stuck his fingers into their tight pussy. He was so close, honestly surprised he'd been holding off this long. When his fingers began to feel your walls relax around him he knew you were ready for him now.

"Think you can ride my cock sweetheart?" He asked brushing your hair out of your face as you slobbered all over his member. You didn't need to be asked twice as you popped off him feelings his fingers toy with your folds but no longer fingering you. He pushed his seat back to give you more room before reclining his seat back. He guided you over his lap watching as you didn't waste a second in lining himself up with your wet pussy.

"I'm on the pill sir," you said calling him that name again that had his cock twitching. He nodded pulling you in for another kiss as his hands found your waist sinking you down his length. You moaned into each other's mouths. You slowly raised your hips and sunk back down on him, and he tightened his grip on your throat just slightly pulling you away from the kiss. Your face pressed against each others in breathy moans of want as he began to bounce you on his cock while bucking his hips.

It had been awhile for the both of you, though he knows you probably hadn't waited as long as him. He'd been dry since his divorce while you just broke up with tour boyfriend weeks ago. He had a feeling you were always eager like this for sex, and you clearly knew what you were doing with your mouth too and it was just so hot. He was kneading your ass as your head rested on the crook of his neck. He was so close but he was trying to hold off for you. He resort to talking, "This is wrong, y'know?"

Even then he said it with a buck of his hips loving the way your plump wet walls felt around him, "Only bad girls jump on their teacher's cocks."

"Mm," you whined teasingly as you sucked love bites into his collarbone, "You gonna punish me sir?"

"Oh fuck," he moaned when your walls clenched around him intentionally, "Call me Taehyung, love."

"Taehyung," you moaned into his mouth moving onto a quick grind of your heads into each other, "I'm gonna cu—"

"Do it, do it now, fuck Y/n," he held you tighter getting a little rougher now as he reached up for the handlebar on the roof of the car and used it for leverage as he forced his hips off the seat to push more into you. With the new force you weren't lasting long, your release hit you like a tsunami making you shake around him as he held your chest against his. He didn't stop thrusting though, trying to get himself as close to orgasm before he had to pull out of your tight walls as they twitched around him.

You let him raise you off his cock as you sat back down in your seat adjusting your underwear that had been pulled to the side this entire time. You reached across him with a hand jerking him off using your own release as lube and he was fucking into your hand forcing your mouth back on his. With a low grunt and a shake of his hands, he was cumming. Thick drops of creamy cum fell around your hand like a flood. You didn't think much about it as you pulled away from his lips to cover his cock in your mouth licking him clean as best as you could.

After some time you moved off him awkwardly pulling your hair out of your face as you cleared your throat. He tucked himself back in nervously as he adjusted his seat back up looking at his disheveled reflection. He couldn't even look at you, not because he didn't want to stare at your beauty but because it really was wrong. He was your college professor for fuck's same. It didn't matter his strong attraction toward you. What mattered is that he was in a place of authority and could easily lose his job and probably ruin your reputation. He couldn't do that to you but he really wanted you.

"I should probably head inside now," you said shyly as you grabbed your bag opening the door. Taehyung didn't say anything nodding his head watching you leave. He hated the fact that he looked at the length of your legs as you left. It wasn't right.

By Monday morning Taehyung wasn't sure what to think anymore. After the crazy night with you on Saturday it was all he could think about on Sunday. He met up with his friends for brunch and he couldn't help but rant. It didn't do him any favors that they knew something was wrong with him since the beginning. He ended up being honest and telling them that the bartender was his student and that they hooked up in his car.

At first they had been extremely confused by it all but Taehyung already felt guilty on his own as it was, he didn't need them making him feel worse. He expected them to slap him or tell him that he should never do it again. But they didn't say that. Instead they filled his head with possibilities that should never even be thought off.

"In reality you two are adults and didn't you say she's a third year? She'll graduate in a year so really there's nothing wrong with it," Jimin tried reasoning, "She wanted to do it right? Look, I'm just happy you got your dick wet. We both know it's been way too long, plus nobody is saying you have to keep seeing your student. It was just a one night hiccup."

He had to tell himself over and over again that it was just one night. He was thankful that when you walked into class you were in the middle of a discussion when another girl from the class. The two of you were talking so much you merely walked past his desk without a stolen glance. Good, it seemed like you had no intention on more. Great. Amazing. It was the right thing.

Today a male model would be brought in for you all to paint. He had a sheet draped over his intimates and once the assignment was started you put all your focus on it. You were supposed to use him to sketch a person and then use your own art style to tell a story. You tried not looking to your professor in case he felt awkward about Saturday. You kind of did.

Mostly because you could still feel his lips on yours and it made you nervous. You spent all of Sunday in your room trying not to freak out but you just felt so stupid. It felt unbelievably good for him but you knew it wasn't right.

"I swear to god these stupid fingers are pissing me off," your friend Yuna whined as she had to erase more charcoal. Neither one of you noticed the professor making his rounds to check on all the sketches down so far.

"Think about which perspective you're using and the proportion of his hands where he has them placed," Mr. Kim told her pointing to areas that seemed off. You could feel your heart race when he made his move to you next. He was hesitant at first to speak to you, just standing behind your stool watching your sketch and he only stepped closer when he had advice.

"Pay a little more attention to the line of his body, focus on proportions too and use more shadowing,” he said pointing at spots in your painting. It felt like he was too close but neither one of you were actually bothered by it. In the mix of slight regret there was also this strong wanting for a recreation of that night. Neither one of you would actually go for it though. Right? Not again?

He looked down to make sure you were listening, your eyes lcking for a moment before you both looked away nervously at the realization of your proximity. He didn't notice the way his tongue ran over his lips before biting down on his bottom one in remembrance. You're wearing the perfume from the other night.

Clearing his throat, Taehyung looked away from you standing straight again, "But other than that it looks like you have more done than others, thank you for focusing better today."

"Of course sir," you said absentmindedly looking back to your sketch too. It took him a second to move away. He'd never felt so damn embarrassed at the fact that he had to focus so hard on not getting turned on and breaking a sweat. This is exactly why he asked you to call him Taehyung only but of course you would slip up since you were used to referring to him with the honorific. But right now he could only think about what you'd said to him that faithful night.

"You gonna punish me sir?"

Looking down at you nobody would ever guess you'd say something like that but he knew you did. He heard you say it and he really liked it—

"Sir do you mind taking a look at mine?" A student asked snapping him out of his thoughts. He had to look around to find where he was still a couple feet behind. He didn't bother responding as he started working that way not noticing the way your eyes followed after him making you smudge a mark across your paper. With a small annoyed huff you worked on cleaning it up again.

After class you were one of the last to leave the room. You've been thinking about him nonstop but because of the positions you're in, you shouldn't. But in reality, you were two adults who happened to have sex. There was a sense of sexual attraction and honestly, hooking up with someone other than your ex definitely did something to you. Considering the fact that he definitely seemed affected by your presence in class, you found yourself staying another late evening at the studio making sure Taehyung saw you the next time he passed by the room.

He did see you again a couple hours later. He was locking up his classroom ready to leave at the end of the day finding you through the door's window. His steps faltered, head turning as he looked at his surroundings. Then, he was pushing the door open letting himself into the studio. The other side of the room was all glass windows since it face the courtyard but it was dark out there. In the room all the lights were off too minus a lamp by your table and a light above the sink.

You turned instantly with the sound of the door finding him standing by it. He ran his fingers through his hair that had been casually combed back. His other hand was stuffed in the pocket of his corduroy slacks with his tote bag hanging off his shoulder. He licked his lips nervously, "I just came to let you know that the custodian will be around."

"Thank you for the reminder sir," you said with your back to him to hide a playful smile, "Or is it Taehyung? I forgot."

His breath hitched as he stared at you from across the room. You turned to look at him, the lamp above your head creating a shadow in your facial feature but appearing like a spotlight only for you. It made him feel further into the shadow at the corner he stood. He really wanted you, but it just didn't feel like he should. He was your mentor. He was nine years older. You were a college student and he was your teacher. It definitely wasn't right. But he was just so attracted to you in this moment.

"Well it depends on what we're doing," he answered absentmindedly realizing a second too late his response was flirty. He had no reason to be in the studio at this moment but he made up an excuse to go in anyway just because he wanted to see you again.

When you finished cleaning up you were walking toward him. He looked down at you through a hazy gaze as you reached for the door handle pulling it open. Taehyung simply followed behind calmly as you spoke, "Did you have a good weekend?"

His pace slowed for a second trying to unravel your question and the subtle approach you took. He's quickly realizing you're a bit promiscuous. Your nonchalant hints of something more that only he could understand but everyone else thought nothing of it. You were a tease but you hid it so well. He thought for a moment about how to word his response, "My weekend was great, and yours?"

"Oh it was really fun," you answered as the two of you walked down the path through the courtyard, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."

"Mhm," Taehyung hummed in acknowledgment looking around again to see if anyone was around, "I can imagine what that's like. Hopefully you have more like it."

Your eyes met in a side glance as the split in the sidewalk separating the parking lot from your bus stop. He played with his keys like he did the night at the lounge bar, "Going to wait for a bus?"

"That's the plan unfortunately, unless someone were to come around and take me home," you said with a shrug looking away from him the further you walked down your split sidewalks. Teahyungs voice the further he got from you, "I'm sure someone would love to drive you home."

So you said your farewells and you sat at the bus stop nervously. Maybe you were a little too obvious with you felt and he was probably worried. He most likely regretted getting involved with you.

Of course that was the opposite. He knew he shouldn't but really it was because of the university. Aside from that there was nothing wrong with being attracted to someone younger. You were both adults. That's why he was rushing to his car pulling out of the driveway and going around the corner to the bus stop. He waited a few yards back from the bus stop flashing his emergency lights at you and in an instant you were up and walking to the car. He rolled the window down flashing you a smile as you opened the door.

He did end up giving you a lift but it wasn't to your apartment, it was to his.

        "I don't know if I'm going crazy, but I've got this feeling that you're seeing someone," Jungkook told you with narrowed eyes. He was currently walking you to your class before going home. He always had shorter days than you and Bora since he worked in the afternoon but he always hung out with you two.

"I'm not seeing anyone," you told him simply as the two of you walked along the sidewalk. Jungkook just hummed in acknowledgment as he carried your canvas for you.

"Yeah, sure you aren't," Jungkook responded, "You don't have to tell me if it's supposed to be a secret. Is it supposed to be a secret? Oh my god are you dating someone in a relationship?"

"Why would I become a homewrecker when I've been cheated on?" You asked him clearly displeased with his assumption. He shrugged staring down the hall to the studio, "I'm just curious why you're keeping it on the low. Is he like, not someone you should be with?"

"I'm pretty sure I told you I'm not seeing anyone," you responded back to him entering your classroom. Taehyung was standing at his desk watching everyone walk in when he noticed the same tatted guy helping you with your canvas.

"Jungkook! Hey man, what are you doing here?" One of the other students called out to him. It was Seungjin, he was in your department and you knew each other better through Jungkook. Occasionally you'd talk but not always. He came over to where you and Jungkook were to talk as you got all your things settled.

Taehyung found you standing in the middle of two guys smiling over whatever they said watching the one with tattoos pull you into his side. Technically, class hasn't started but he can't stand the sight. Just a couple days ago you were wrapped in your professor's bedsheets sleeping soundly next to him. Now you're here with two guys your own age who were making you smile and laugh.

He shouldn't be surprised you had a lot of male friends. You were clearly well known around campus and people always approached you during class. Even at your job he found all the guys behind the counter trying to impress you with whatever. Even Jimin and Yoongi commented on your looks so really, this was normal. You had a boyfriend before of six months who cheated on you—which Taehyung would never understand why—but you also told him about other past relationships. Taehyung felt like he was different than your usual type and though he could say the same about you, right now he's getting annoyed.

He smiled down at the papers on his desk but it was anything but genuine. It was a forced smile to remind himself it was alright. It's not like you two could be forward with what's happening, not until you at least graduate next spring. As his class began to fill he finally had the nerve to approach you. If he could just get any guy your age away from you that'd be great. He was 30, he couldn't compete with all the college guys who surrounded you, had the same energy as you, got the same references. Taehyung's a millennial for Christ's sake, you're a Gen Z.

He made his round toward you well calculated. He greeted other students along the way to seem natural before he zoned in on where you were. He got close enough just in time to hear his student, Seungjin, speak, "Let's go drinking tonight, bring Hoseok with too. He hasn't been around in a while."

"Alright so us three and Hoseok? Should I tell Bora too?" Jungkook asked.

"Gentlemen, I'm sure you can continue this conversation outside of the art room," Taehyung's voice was bitter. He didn't want you going out with three guys tonight. He wants to order pizza for the two of you while you go into detail about your art piece for the Spring exhibition at your place. It was definitely a college student's place. He only went in the morning he dropped you off home after spending the night with him. You invited him in for a drink and he was too curious to say no.

Compared to his neat, bachelor pad, yours was chaotic. His place was clean, dark, and modern. Yours was ecliptic, slightly unorganized with paints and brushes everywhere. Thick woven throw blankets and patterned pillows. Hanging plants that were halfway between dying and thriving. You had vinyls piled in a corner with books. You had colored LED lamps, it was basically like a hippie fest at your place. He liked it though, compared to his place yours was warm and welcoming. He liked that he could see little pieces of you everywhere he turned.

When he first moved into his own place it felt cold. He never lived on his own like that. From his childhood when he lived with his family to college when he lived with roommates and finally when he lived with his ex wife.

Jungkook looked up at your professor who seemed slightly out of focus staring at your canvas. Jungkook's never gotten an up close look at him but Bora was right, he was an attractive guy and you seemed slightly awkward now that he was here. He looked between you two, his best friend senses tingling when he watched the way Taehyung bit into his lower lip when you brushed your fingers through your hair. Seungjin was too busy apologizing to the man telling him they'll get right to work.

"Sorry Professor Kim, I'll get going now," Jungkook said warily as he went and shoved your head to the side playfully, "Am I picking you up after?"

Before you could respond Taehyung was cutting in, "Actually I've asked miss Y/n to stay behind, we've got some discussing to do about her piece for the Spring Art Exhibit."

Obviously he hadn't but you didn't even dare to deny his claims looking to Jungkook, "I'll text you, go, you're interrupting class time."

"Once again, I apologize sir, I'll be leaving now," Taehyung had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as he nodded. Jungkook bowed respectfully before turning around to leave, glancing back at you two to catch your Professor glaring at Seungjin who was pulling his things closer to you.

Jackpot, Jungkook thought when his eyes caught sight of a small purple bruise peaking out from under the collar of the professor's shirt. He was clearly seeing someone too and Jungkook's curious to know who.

Taehyung returned to the front of the room after continuing his round around his students and started his lecture on surrealism. Seungjin sat next to you now that he'd been talking to you and Jungkook and you didn't mind. You'd hung out with him a few times outside of class and he was fun to be around. Still though, you couldn't focus on what he would say when you were so focused on Taehyung.

Had he been jealous because of them? Or was he annoyed that you were delaying class time? After class would he keep you around to tell you, 'Just because we're having sex doesn't mean you can do whatever you want in my class' or was that just an excuse so Jungkook wouldn't be able to pick you up?

"Sir if it's alright with you, I'd like to discuss my work for the exhibit too," another student pointed out at the end of class. Taehyung huffed in annoyance as he looked up to find you waiting as well. You looked away, "I could always come after my last class? That way you two could discuss privately?"

He tried hiding his smile. Obviously he wanted you alone, not with another student there so he nodded in agreement watching you leave. He had to work on keeping things lowkey. You're way better at it than he is. To be fair he's been out of the game for ten years and he never had to keep a relationship a secret before.

"Perfect! I was just coming to find you, are you coming with Jungkook and I to find costumes for the party this weekend?" Bora asked once you'd left the classroom.

"What party?" You asked confused. She gasped dramatically, "The costume party! Halloween in Spring, as Hobi calls it. Jungkook's waiting by the gate."

"I've still got one more class and then I've gotta meet Professor Kim and talk about the Spring Exhibit," you told her.

Bora laughed, "Yeah you should have your discussion while riding his face."

"What?" You sounded on edge and it only made Bora laugh harder.

"I'm kidding obviously, but I'd gladly sit on his face," Bora said with a shrug, "Alrighty then, text me later and I can go shopping with you tomorrow if you don't have time today. Jungkook and I are just going to get an idea before we meet up with the others tonight for drinks."

"K, bye love you," you waved her goodbye as you went to your last class for the day. You couldn't focus on it though, not when you kept thinking about Taehyung. That's why the second it was over you were rushing over to his room.

Luckily there was no one around when you let yourself in and he barely gave you a glance before pointing to a box of painting palettes, "Mind helping carry those to the storage room?"

You nodded taking the box as he took another one before walking you to the back of the room. He opened the door to storage room and let you in first looking around through the windows to make sure nobody was watching. Then, he entered closing the two of you in as you set the boxes down. The second he turned to you, you were jumping in his arms. Taehyung's hands went to your waist holding you up as your lips met in a hungry kiss that had him groaning in want.

After some time kissing like that he set you back down but his arms didn't leave your waist keeping you close. He looked down at you, "What are you doing this weekend? Let's go out of town."

You made a pout that had his eyes rounding in curiosity and anticipation searching yours for answers. You looked down hugging around his middle section, "My friend's throwing this costume party on Saturday and everyone I know is going. If I don't go they're going to get suspicion."

"Well just tell them you'll be seeing someone but you're keeping it private," he said hopefully squeezing you in his hold a little more. You just fit so perfectly in his arms despite the taboo of it all.

"I've tried but they won't quit. Trust me, once Jungkook and Bora get suspicious that's a wrap. Jungkook is like a ducking detective when it comes to other people's business," you explained watching the way his jaw clenched as he looked away from you sadly. You rested your head on him, "What about next weekend? Are you free then?"

"I'm free, I can make reservations now," Taehyung said biting his lip, "Alright I'll go out first, make sure the coast is clear."

You nodded watching him turn to the door before stopping to look back at you, "Since I can't spend the weekend with you, maybe you can give me tonight? We can order in, watch a movie..." He seemed strangely nervous as he spoke.

Jungkook and Seungjin did make dinner plans tonight but you didn't care much about that. You'd rather get laid and spend the night with a guy who interests you. You don't want to jump into things so quickly because you could easily get hurt. It didn't change the fact that you felt safe and comfortable with him. Even when you just saw him as a mentor, yeah he could be strict but he was also very good at consolation. He'd constantly tell you how talented you were and that you shouldn't forget that even when you're feeling down.

Then obviously you're getting closer to him so it's not bad to want to spend time together. Were you dating? Not that you know of? Would you consider him to be the only man you're sleeping with? Yes. Could say that same about him to you? Probably? He didn't seem like the type to mess around with just anyone and you've been talking on the phone on nights you can't see each other.

"Then, should I wait for you down the street?" You asked once he signed that the coast was clear. You both left the room stalling as you got to the door.

"Of course, make sure you do your school work too."

"Yes sir, I'll work on it tonight," you said as the two of you stood outside now. He bit his lip to hide a smile, "Well have a good night."

"You two, thank you," you said your goodbyes as you walked in opposite directions. Then, like a constant cycle, he was picking you up in his car.

On Friday night you spent the night at Taehyung's place. It's crazy how quick the two of you have progressed but it didn't feel forced. It's like, when it was just you two you could forget about the fact he was your professor. Even when he'd quite literally tutor you for some of your required course it didn't feel like he was your teacher.

The main reason you spent the night is because you wouldn't be able to see him this weekend other than Saturday morning. Tonight you'll have Hobi's party and you had to work Sunday and Monday night. You had already dedicated next week as crunch time for your paintings so you really weren't going to be seeing him outside of class and the art studio.

So, he drove you about fifty minutes out of the city to some expensive rooftop restaurant for lunch. You wanted to spend as much of today as you could with him before Bora would be getting to your house to get ready for tonight. The restaurant was far enough and way too expensive for any of your class mates to be here so it was the perfect place for a nice lunch date. Taehyung clearly had money from his career and his parents so it wasn't a question that he'd want to treat you to something nice. He wore a YSL cream colored button up shirt and black slacks while you wore a little black dress.

The two of you walked in with linked arms letting the hostess lead you to a table while you talked. You look extra pretty today. You wore light make up that accentuated your features and your hair was styled in a way that really suited you. He couldn't keep his eyes off you, if he could he would've noticed the waking nightmare about to cross paths with him.

"Tae?" His blood ran cold as the two of you looked up, the hostess waiting at your table for the two of you. You stared at the woman and man in front of you. She looked you up and down and you did the same shamelessly. She had black hair up to her shoulders and bright red lipstick. She wore a white blouse and grey pencil skirt. An ugly pencil skirt in your opinion.

"Jihyun..." Taehyung cleared his throat and it didn't take you long to realize who this woman was. The man was quiet but he looked uncomfortable yet you felt his eyes travel down to your exposed legs. You knew this must be his ex wife and you expected Taehyung to take his arm away from your hold. It must be awkward for him to be seen with you. You were obviously sticking out from the more mature group in appearance.

"Oh, uh, it's nice to see you doing well," Jihyun said with a forced smile. You wondered if the man was the coworker she cheated on Taehyung with. His arm almost pulled you even closer to his side, "Yes, I am doing well. Oh, this is Y/n."

You gave them a tight smile leaning into Taehyung more. He smiled at that, "It looks like our table is ready so we'll get going now."

"Was that your ex?" You asked once the two of you were to the table. Taehyung nodded before flashing you a smile, "But let's not think about that. This is our first official date so let's make the most of it before we have to get going."

Without thinking you leaned across the table and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before going back to looking at the menu. Before the food arrived you excused yourself to the restroom. It was windy and you could not have your hair all over the place. While you were in there you reapplied a light layer of lipgloss as a stall opened.

You couldn't believe your luck when the cheating hag—you mean Jihyun—came out. It made you smile a little as you wiped up the corners of your lips. She gave you a look as she went to wash her stupid musty hands right next to you.

"Taehyung seems to be doing well lately," Jiyeon said washing her hands. It was the second time she'd said it like she expected him to be crying in his room, "I've known him for a very long time an—"

"I don't really care how long you've known him," you flashed her a perfectly fake smile, "And of course he's doing well. Why wouldn't he?"

Jihyun pursed her lips in annoyance, "I'm surprised when he didn't introduce you as someone he's seeing. He only said your name, it's very strange."

If Taehyung wasn't going to do anything that's alright but she's clearly judging your appearance and possibly your age and relationship with him too.

"I really like your skirt," you added with another fake smile, "Only some women can pull off that kind of look. Unfortunately it's not for me, it's too bland?"

She scoffed as she ran her hands under the sink water, "It's office attire, but you look a little too young to know anything about that."

"Oh to be young and beautiful, do you miss those days?" You said finally closing your little handbag. In fact she was only 30 but if she was going to act like this then you would too. You ran your fingers through your hair one last time and check the back of your dress in the mirror, "I'll go first since Tae is waiting for me."

You began to walk away, Jihyun stayed at the mirror for a second trying to process what is happening. You must've been more important than she thought because it looked like you clearly knew who she was. You were bitchy but that wasn't the main problem. The main problem was that you were... everything Jihyun wished she could be when she was younger. She doesn't know your age but Taehyung was surprised he could even attract someone like you. The Taehyung she knew would never be into someone like you.

He had always had a sort of timid, mysterious nature on the outside and Jihyun had been the same. That's why it was so easy for them two to get close so long ago. Jihyu had always felt insecure when it came to the confident appearance as girls like you but Taehyung always assured her he never cared for looks like that. Clearly that been nothing but a lie if he is with you.

She barely made it out the restroom's entrance when she stopped in her tracks.

She had a clear view of your table, right by the glass ledge of the rooftop. Taehyung's smile was bright as he laughed over something you said and when she looked closer his hand was in yours.

He had never been the type to be openly affectionate. It had been years since he last looked at her that way. Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her but Taehyung had never looked at her with that gleam in his eyes like he was giving you.

"Can I come over tonight?" You asked tracing swils with your finger on his hand, "After the party I mean or will that be too late?"

You're not sure if Taehyung seeing his ex actually affected him or if he was genuinely okay but whatever it was you wanted to make sure he was okay. He already told you he'd be playing tennis later with his friends but later tonight maybe he'd want to see you.

"Hm, it will be late but I can pick you up from the party if you don't care. I don't want you driving a cab so late especially if you'll be drinking," he said as he used his free hand to eat while the other held yours.

"Aw, sir aren't you just so sweet? Maybe we can reenact our first night together in my bunny costume tonight," you said it to tease him but you were also being serious. He was so attractive you swear you could just eat him up.

Taehyung nearly choked on his water but he couldn't help but smile, "it's barely noon and you're already thinking of that?"

He felt the tip of your foot against his leg, pulling on his pant leg teasingly. You gave him an innocent smile, "No, I just think about you and then I think about how much I want you."

He placed a kiss to your knuckles, "Always so eager."

"For you."

::.

this flopped so bad last time so pls YALL 😭

personal taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile

[artificial-transmutations]

Friday Friendship

Hey there! This one is kind of a spiritual successor to Calling the Plumber - and as such, it is one of the rare gay to straight stories of mine. While I do try to keep it friendly and without any homophobia or hate, feel free not read the story if you don't like g2s!

It was hard to overlook Montgomery and Archibald. Of course, that was always the case. But here, on the dirty construction site of their new home, the expensive silk suits of the couple stood out even more than elsewhere. Yes, the two of them were together - and they made sure everybody knew it. Not only were the two gentlemen standing in a tight hug whenever possible, but their flamboyant and colorful clothing left little doubt about their sexuality.

They were those kind of gays that conservatives were afraid of. Both were old enough to have been alive during the stonewall riots, although only Montgomery was actually there as a teenager. Still, the aged couple embodied everything the gay community prided itself on having achieved during the last decades.

Their house, too, would be a statement. The mansion was the largest construction in the area, and the most expensive one. It was going to be built on a large hill, overlooking the town, and its style was... extravagant. The house was to be built in a modern architectural style, but the two men had insisted that the walls would be entirely covered in rainbow colors, although that was still in the future by now. Surrounding the mansion would be a magnificent garden, a park even.

"My dear, are you satisfied with the construction?" Archibald asked his husband in his lime green suit. Montgomery had dyed his hair in an orange-pink tone today and wore a purple tie to his green suit. It was hardly the first building site he visited, since he had made a fortune in real estate.

Archibald, on the other hand, was a bit more conservatively dressed. His suit was a more subdued shade of beige, although his tie was of a bright sky blue color. He usually didn't dye his hair, and today was no exception: He wore the gray with pride, although he spent a fortune on hair and skin care products. He, too, had a respectable job as a top manager in a logistics company.

"Well, darling, I'm not sure yet." Montgomery replied. "I want it to look great, and the work has been good so far. But frankly, it feels that the workers motivation is somewhat underwhelming."

"I think I know what you mean, my dear." Archibald commented as they walked through the empty shell. "It is barely three in the afternoon on a Friday, and there isn't anyone around anymore. The workers must be out partying already. I can't fault them for that, but it is rather annoying, isn't it?"

"Indeed. It would have been nice if they were a little less lazy, though. The garden is behind schedule, and I believe the electrics are going to be delayed by another month."

"That is quite unfortunate."

Montgomery nodded and they walked a bit in silence. It was true. There was still a lot to do, and it looked like the workers left early for the weekend.

Finally, Archibald sighed.

"I guess I could take a look at the progress the electricians are making. I do know a bit or two about this. Maybe then we can talk to the foreman about their work. It's a pity that we cannot supervise every little thing here, but our jobs demand a lot of our time. If only we had a bit more hands-on control."

"My, what a fabulous idea! I will take a stroll through the garden then, to get a better picture there."

The husbands kissed each other on the lips as they split up and Archibald opened the fuse box. He had indeed done a bit of electrical maintenance in his prime, so he knew that what he saw in the box was nothing less than a mess. He sighed and was about to close the box again, but hesitated. No, he couldn't leave the mess like that. He would just tidy things up a bit, to show those inexperienced workers how it was done.

Carefully, he began to work on the wires, but before long, he felt uncomfortable. The fuse box was located in the bright afternoon sun, and it was just positively hot here. Still, not wanting to leave his work, he slipped out of his jacket and hung it over a nearby wall. He didn't notice that the piece of clothing disappeared once he turned away, nor did he notice that his hands became nimbler as he rearranged the wires.

Montgomery on the other hand found the garden construction even less advanced than he had hoped. Even worse, someone had left a few plants out in the heat. They would surely be dead by the time the construction continued on Monday. Montgomery couldn't let that happen. This garden would be beautiful, and no plant would die under his watch.

He carefully carried the plants to the place they were supposed to be. Of course, he knew - he had planned the park all by himself, so he knew where everything was supposed to go. As he arrived at the shady place, he understood why the plants hadn't been placed yet. The ground was wet and muddy, and there weren't any holes yet. He would need to talk to the foreman about that, but the man was surely already in the weekend as well. There was, however, a shovel nearby. Now, aside from ceremonial groundbreaking, Montgomery had never held a shovel. It wasn't that he didn't understand the concept, but he was just not the type for physical labor.

Well. He looked over his shoulder to his husband, who was apparently still busy looking at the fuse box. It seems like he had some time on his hands, so he might as well. Grimacing, he grabbed the shovel and carefully stepped on the soil, trying not to ruin his expensive shoes or pants. That worked well, for about two steps. But as soon as he tried to break the ground with the shovel, a big clump of wet soil splattered on his lime green silk pants.

Montgomery frowned. Well, that suit was ruined anyway. No reason to stop there. Determined, he pulled the shirt out of his pants and opened his vest. He wasn't going to ruin his custom tailored suit for no reason.

Meanwhile, Archie was getting into his work even more. From time to time, he had to wipe his brow, though, as he was sweating like an animal. His dress shirt was stained with multiple sweat stains already and didn't really *look* like a dress shirt anymore, but more casual. The same could be said for the rest of Archie as well. A certain youth had returned to his face, as he was concentrated on his work. This way, he didn't notice when his hairstyle dissolved into an unkempt mess or when a bit of stubble grew in on his chin. His shirt clung to his body now, drenched in sweat. It had long ceased to be a dress shirt though but had become a plain - although rather filthy - beige t-shirt. His tie was nowhere to be seen.

Due to the wetness, the shirt didn't leave much to imagination regarding his body. Not just his face had rejuvenated, no, his entire body had. He was leaner and his muscles firmer now. Out of the V-neck of his sweaty shirt poked a few golden hairs, and before long, his main hair had turned into a Nordic blonde, as well.

Meanwhile, Monty was digging like crazy. He had to get those plants in the ground, or the foreman would... Wait, what was he thinking?

He stopped for a moment, to scratch his head. Thinking was not his strong point, and Monty knew that. But he had other qualities, that made up for that. When he grabbed the shovel again, to keep digging, he heard a ripping sound that made him stop again. The shoulder of his shirt had ripped. His boss was going to kill him! Although, it appeared somewhat strange to him that he was wearing such a colorful and impractical shirt. Perhaps there weren't any other shirts left?

He looked around and saw only one of the electricians still on the site. He knew the guy, he was friendly enough. He surely wouldn't mind if Monty went shirtless for a bit. With an effort not to damage the clothing even more, he peeled out of the garment. He was only half successful with that, and a few more rips sounded before he had finished taking it off.

Monty looked down at his muscular and hairy torso. The cold air was good, and he wasn't afraid to get dirty.

With every movement of the shovel, his arm muscles tightened, and his frame filled out more. A short beard sprouted on his chin, and his now full earthy brown hair shortened to a more practical cut. It wasn't like he had money for an expensive hairdresser, after all.

Finally, he had the holes ready and wiped his hands on his sturdy pair of work pants. Now, he only had to put the plants in. Despite his impressive physique, Manny was always very careful with the flowers, and he made sure that none of the roots got damaged or that he didn't break the stem.

He looked at his work. Good, that would look great, once the plants grew. Someday, he would have a garden of his own, and a house like that. And a beautiful wife and two, no, three children. But that was still a long way to go, with his poor pay.

Someone behind him cursed and Manny looked back to the electrician.

Chad was still sweating like crazy as he worked the wires. His mates had all gone to the clubs by now and he was stuck here and had to fix the mess he had created. That was only fair, but he wished the foreman wouldn't have noticed until Monday. He had to hurry up, though. He didn't want to spend his Friday night on the site, after all. Perhaps he would even get lucky and find a guy... No, what was he thinking? Working on these fruits' house had made him all confused. No, perhaps he would find a busty bombshell to take home tonight. Chad felt his cock growing hard at the thought, creating an obvious bulge in his work pants. Great, more distraction.

Chad tried to readjust himself, just in time as he sensed the big burly gardener approach. He knew the guy loosely but had forgotten his name already - if he even had known it at all.

"Hey, everything alright with them wires?" the low voice of the brute asked in a friendly tone.

"Yeah, I just need to finish up here... Should be done aaaaany minute now..."

Manny watched Chad connect the last wires. Poor guy. His t-shirt was soaked with sweat, and he looked like he was really hot and stressed out.

"Cool. It's no fun working late, and on a Friday. Hey, do you want to hit a bar after that? I could go for a cold one."

Chad looked over his shoulder at the bear of a man. Was that guy hitting on him? Na, his face only showed dumb innocence.

He shrugged. "Sure, why not, eh..."

"Name's Manny." Manny said.

"Great. Manny." Chad said and closed the now somewhat better looking fuse box before wiping away his sweat once more.

"I'm Chad."

Manny and Chad left the building site together this Friday afternoon. Neither of them knew that they were going to become best friends over this and many more beers. Manny turned out to be a great wingman for Chad, and Chad even ended up as Manny's best man during his wedding and godfather for his first child. Sometimes the closest friendships are forged in the Friday afternoon sun of a construction site.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

After a mere half hour spent in the same room as these people, Philza has already been reminded of why he doesn't normally answer a summons.

The constant staring annoys him to no end. He supposes it's to be expected, what with his country's reputation for being a complete enigma. The Antarctic Empire is one of the lucky few nations that operates entirely self-sufficiently, producing all their own resources. They do not trade with other countries often. In fact, the mountain ranges that border the very south of their peninsula do not offer any convenient trading routes to begin with. And since that same treacherous terrain also cuts the empire off from the continent in such a way that passing through becomes a challenge in wilderness survival, they're mostly left to their devices. Some folks still believe Phil's nation is a myth, a story conjured up by fairytales.

So Phil coming all the way out here for Dante's attempt at diplomacy must be quite the sight. Most people will die without ever having seen the king of the Antarctic Empire, no wonder they have a hard time looking away.

That won't stop Phil from getting some satisfaction every time one of these pompous nobles cowers if he so much as flexes his wings and turns toward them. He's currently locked in a bit of a staring contest with a man across the room. Phil doesn't know if he's another royal or random noble, but he does know he can't stand the look on this fucking guy's face.

At one point the man smiles more broadly, as if pleased that Phil caught him staring. He bows his head a bit, with Phil half-heartedly returning the courtesy, tucking in his wings to keep them from flaring automatically with the gesture. However, this leaves Phil's elbow to bump into somebody trying to slide past him.

Phil didn't expect anybody to be there, the entire crowd had been giving him a pretty wide berth all evening. He's even more surprised when he sees it's a child, maybe ten or eleven years old. His fancy clothes and intricately braided pink hair with golden jewelry betray him as a prince.

"Sorry," Phil says. He reaches out to steady the boy, but the kid flinches and steps back at his attempted touch, pulling his sleeves up over his wrists. "I didn't see you there, are you okay?"

The boy looks up at him and instead of answering, his blue eyes widen a bit. "You're the emperor of the Antarctic Empire," he says. The statement is delivered in a deceptively neutral tone, especially for somebody of such a young age. Phil is used to more dramatic reactions.

"I am. Call me Phil. What's your name?" Phil smiles gently at the boy. He always had a soft spot for children.

Again, he doesn't receive an answer. Instead, the boy's gaze moves across him for a moment, pondering. He grins slightly, but it's a strange sort of expression. Almost private. As if nobody else is supposed to see. "You're shorter than I thought you'd be," the boy says. Before Phil can blink or respond, he's disappeared into the crowd.

Phil is very much left completely flabbergasted.

Curiosity ever the greatest motivator for him, Phil walks up to the man who was staring at him earlier. The guy pales three shades at seeing Phil approach him, maybe thinking his rude behavior is getting retribution after all. But Phil couldn't care less about this man anymore.

He wants to know who the boy is.

"The child I was just talking to, do you know who he is?" Phil asks, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

"Who- Oh, he's nobody, sir." The way the man blunders and becomes overly formal brings Phil little pleasure. "Prince Techno. From the Blade family."

"From the Blade family? What is he doing so far away from home?"

"He's King Dante's ward." 

Phil glances over to where the man is looking, in the direction of Dante himself. Techno is standing next to the king, head bowed a bit and seeming pretty disgruntled to be there. But when Dante lays his hand almost delicately on the nape of Techno's neck, the boy flinches again and forces a neutral expression on his face.

"You know how the Blade family is," the man says grimly. "Ferocious beasts of war, all of them. It's a wonder Dante has managed to secure an allyship. They even got close enough bonds to leave their son in Dante's care."

Thinking about the summons, about how Dante was a nobody three years ago who since managed to overthrow several small countries by using superior weapons and strategies - those the likes of which only the Blade nation is known for - makes several things click into place. Allyship? It makes sense. A lot of sense.

Then what is the uncomfortable feeling that seems hooked into Phil's gut?

(Maybe it's because of the flinching. Or because of how Techno seems to move around like a ghost. Or because when he pulled up his sleeves, Phil was sure he saw the faded blue and purple of bruises on the boy's pale skin.

The Blade family runs their kingdom in a similar way to the Antarctic Empire. They don't make allies. Only enemies.)

"Are you staying for the peace conference, sir?" the man is brave enough to ask, now that Phil has broken the ice. It's probably a question for many of them. Despite Dante's ruthless way of overtaking other countries, Phil's empire isn't threatened by him. He's only here as a formality. He has no reason to stay, no stakes in this game.

Dante pulls his hand away and it's like Techno can finally breathe again. Phil's eyes meet his for a moment, then the boy looks away.

"I think I'll stick around to see how things unfold," Phil says pleasantly.

[sofiaispunk]

The Bakery Crush - PART (1/2)

Joel Miller x Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

summary: Just two fools clearly in love, pining over each other because ... well, they are fools.

words: 3kish

warnings: angst, JEALOUSY, Joel being a fool, smut, pining, age gap, bad puns, heartbreak, 18+

You enjoyed the little things in Jackson. The little fairy lights that brighten up the street and making Jackson almost feel like a magical wonderland, the vibrant colors of the changing leaves in autumn, the sound of the flowing water from the nearby river, but what you enjoyed the most was the smell of freshly baked bread from your little bakery on the corner in Mainstreet.

Shortly after arriving in Jackson Maria assigned, you to baking duty, since you were a professional baker before the outbreak, and showed you to your new working place.

It was a charming little bakery that had been abandoned for years but as you peered through the dusty windows, you immediately saw the potential. 

Tommy, Maria’s husband, helped you turn the rusty shop into your dream bakery. You spent countless hours painting the walls a warm shade of yellow, installing new cabinets and countertops, and laying down fresh tiles.

You were determined to make the bakery stand out, a place with a warm atmosphere where everybody felt welcomed. You even found old wooden crates to use as shelves, hung vintage baking utensils on the walls, and added some decorative flowers for the ambiance.

That was a year ago and since then your bakery has become the favorite place of the residents of Jackson and Jackson became your home.

-

You were busy kneading a batch of dough when you heard the familiar jingle of the bakery's bell. 

"Hey there, Ellie!" you greeted her with a smile. "How was school today?"

"It was fine," she replied, shrugging off her backpack. "But you know what would make it better? A freshly baked blueberry scone."

You chuckled. "You never change, do you? One blueberry scone for my favorite customer coming right up."

As you handed her a warm scone on a napkin, Ellie grinned mischievously. "Thanks, (y/n). This looks berry delicious!”

You couldn't help but chuckle at her pun. "That's a good one, Ellie. You really do have a way with words."

She grinned. "Thanks, I try. I mean, it's not like I'm rolling in dough like you are." She waggled her eyebrows at you and took another bite of the scone.

You laughed lightly, continuing to work on your dough, "You're too much, Ellie. But you always make me smile, that’s why you my favorite, y‘ know."

"Well, that's what I'm here for," she said with a grin. "To brighten up your day and eat all your delicious scones."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "You're lucky I like you, kid."

Ellie finished up the last of her scone and sighed contentedly. "Man, that hit the spot. I don't know how you do it, really. Your scones are always so flavorful and yummy."

"It's all about using the best ingredients and putting my secret ingredient in … love." You answered playfully, slightly cringing at your cheesy answer.

Ellie just groaned silently but nodded. "Well, it shows. You know, you really raisin the bar when it comes to baked goods."

Now it was your turn to groan. "That one was a bit of a stretch, Ellie."

"Hey, I can't help it. I'm on a roll today."

You both laughed as she grabbed her backpack and headed over to you to give you a small hug and a quick kiss on your cheek "Thanks for the scone. I’m off to Dina’s. See you, tomorrow.”

And with that Ellie rushed her way towards the exit.

"Take care, Ellie," you called after her with a smile. "And keep those puns coming, kid."

-

It was getting late and you were closing the store front for the day. You packed up the leftover treats from the bakery and couldn't help but think that maybe Joel would want to enjoy them. So you gathered up some pretzel pieces, bread, two scones that Ellie loves, and some croissants and made your way to Joel's house.

The evening sky painted in different hues of orange and pink. The streets were quiet as most people had retired for the night. You walked leisurely towards Joel's house, taking in the sights and sounds of the town you had grown to love.

When you reached the house, you knocked on the door and waited. Ellie opened the door with a surprised look on her face.

"Hey, Ellie. Sorry to drop by so late. I thought maybe you and Joel would want to have some of these leftover treats," you said, holding up the bag of the baked goods.

Ellie smiled, "Of course we would. You know he can never resist them, and neither can I. Come on in."

As you followed Ellie to the kitchen, you couldn't help but notice how cozy and warm their home was. The living room was dimly lit, and the only source of light came from the candles on the coffee table.

“Joel's not home yet, though.“ She said while tearing up a piece of croissant, “I don't know where he is, and it's kind of weird because he's never out this late."

Your eyebrows furrowed with concern. "Really? That's strange. Do you want me to stay with you until he gets back?"

Ellie shook her head. "No, that's okay. I'm sure he's just caught up with something. Thanks for the offer, though."

You nodded and headed over to the door, "Sure, no problem. Let me know if you need anything, okay kiddo?"

Ellie nodded and bid you goodnight and you made your way home, in desperate need of a warm shower after a long day at work. 

-

You stood under the warm shower, the water cascading down your body, the stream slowly relaxing your muscles, allowing yourself to let your mind wander. Thoughts of Joel flooded your mind. You couldn't help but think about his chiseled physique and his strong, defined features. His nose, perfectly carved, led down to his plush lips that always seemed to be turned down in a permanent scowl. 

But then, there was his smile. The one that could light up an entire room, the one that made your heart skip a beat. The way his face changed, softening, and becoming almost boyish, when he talked to Ellie. His soft brown eyes crinkling with laughter every time Ellie tells one of her many jokes. It was like seeing a completely different side of him, that almost felt like was just reserved for you and Ellie.

You let your soapy hands glide over your body pretending they were his big, calloused ones exploring your body. Steam filled the bathroom as your moans and whimpers echoed though the small room. 

You drew tight circles on your most aching part while imagining the way his broad shoulders would feel under your hands, and his strong thick fingers, that always seemed to be working on something, replacing yours. His lips sucking and licking on every part of your body, consuming you.

"Joel,” you let out a final moan, your voice not much above a whisper, as you reached your peak, your walls clenching around nothing.

The water started to cool as you tried to catch your breath, bringing you back to reality. You took a deep breath and stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel. You knew you needed to push these thoughts aside, but a part of you couldn't help but think about Joel and wonder where he could be at this hour. You just prayed that he was okay.

-

The next morning, while you were getting ready to open the bakery, you noticed Joel and Ellie walking in. To your surprise Joel was carrying a bouquet of flowers and a bag of coffee beans, which caught you off guard.

"Good morning, (y/n)!" Ellie chirped, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Morning, Ellie. Morning, Joel. What brings you guys in today?" you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Joel smiled warmly. "I just wanted to say thank you for the bread and scones yesterday. They were delicious. And I thought you might like these flowers and coffee beans as a small token of my appreciation."

Your felt your heartbeat race as he handed you the small bouquet of wildflowers. "Thank you, Joel. That's very thoughtful of you."

Ellie nudged you with her elbow, a sly grin on her face. "Looks like somebody's got a secret admirer… well, not so secret," she teased.

"Ellie, please. That’s enough" Joel gave Ellie a stern look. Ellie just shrugged innocently in return and skipped off to the display case, leaving you alone with Joel.

"Listen, I don't want to keep you from your work. I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate what you do for me and especially for Ellie.  And, well, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

“Thank you, that means a lot, Joel” you blushed slightly.

“Anytime, darlin’,” he placed his warm hand on yours and you felt a flutter in your stomach at the contact of his skin.

As if reading your mind, Ellie sauntered back over, a chocolate croissant in hand. "What's going on over here? Are you two making googly eyes at each other?"

Joel laughed. "No, Ellie. She and I were just having a friendly conversation."

But Ellie wasn't convinced. "Uh-huh. Sure, you were. Well, I'm going to go enjoy this delicious croissant. You two keep doing your thing."

As she walked away, Joel turned back to you with a warm smile. "Don't mind her, darlin´. She's just teasing. But, really, thank you again for everything."

As Joel and Ellie were about to leave, Ellie turned to you, "I almost forgot to ask you if you wanna come to the community hall tonight and watch a movie with us?"

"Really? You want lil’ old me to come with you?" you teased.

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Duh. We wouldn't have asked if we didn't want you to come. We're watching this old western movie that Joel loves. You know, to keep up with his cowboy persona."

Joel chuckled. "Ellie, you know I'm not a real cowboy. But, yes, we would love it if you came. “

You grinned. "I would love to come. And I'll bring some blueberry scones."

Ellie's eyes lit up. "Yes! I knew you would say that. Those are my favorites."

-

You made your way to the community hall, the twinkle lights hanging above the entrance, casting a warm and inviting glow. The hall itself was a modest, single-story building with wooden walls and a sloping roof. Overall it was a cozy space and pretty much the center point of your little community.

As you entered the hall, you were greeted by Tommy and Maria , who were standing by the door, handing out programs for the evening's event. They both smiled and greeted you warmly.

"Hey there, (y/n)!" Tommy said. "Glad you could make it."

Maria chimed in. "Yes, we're all excited for the movie tonight. Have you seen it before?"

You shook your head. "No, I haven't. But I've heard good things. Ellie seemed excided."

You made some small talk about the movie and the bakery before you spotted Ellie and Joel sitting in the front row. You made your way over to them, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation.

"Hey, guys," you said, sitting down next to them. "Looks like we got good seats."

Ellie grinned. "Of course, we did. Dad always gets here early to get the best spot."

Joel chuckled. "That's right. Gotta be prepared."

Joel was holding a big bag of popcorn and handed it over to you, your fingers barely touching, sending shivers down your entire body. "’M glad you could make it.” he whispered into your ear. You felt his breath lightly tickling your earlobe.

"Oh, I have a small favor," Ellie exclaimed, turning back to you, causing you to abruptly snap out of your trance. 

"Dina's birthday is next week. Do you think you could make her a cake?" Ellie asked shyly. “Only if you want of course and only if you have enough spare ingredients. I know it’s a lot to ask from you but Dina is not just any friend … well…  she is my friend of course but she is my best friend and special and I want to do something extra special for her. I am sorry, just forget I said anything. “ Ellie was visibly distressed.

You smiled and put a reassuring hand on her arm to stop her rambling. "Of course I can. What kind of cake were you thinking about?"

Ellie's eyes sparkled with excitement. "She loves chocolate. And... wait for it... peanut butter."

You laughed. "Well, it sounds like we'll have to come up with something extra special for her then."

Ellie hugged you tightly and you couldn’t help but feel so much adoration for the girl. In the short timespan you knew each other she crawled her way into your heart and became part of your family.

Ellie nudged you. "Oh and look, there's Karen and her grandkids. She's been raving about your cinnamon rolls all week." 

You looked around the hall and were surprised to see how many people had shown up for the movie night. There were families with kids, elderly couples, and even a few teenagers.

You smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. Maybe I'll make some for the next movie night."

The lights dimmed and the movie began, Joel and Ellie sat on either side of you, munching on popcorn and occasionally making side comments about the movie. You were immediately drawn into the Western that was playing, with its sweeping landscapes and rugged cowboys which kind of reminded you of Joel.

About halfway through the movie, a woman sat down next to Joel and began talking to him, completely ignoring the fact that you were in the middle of a film. Ellie let out an annoyed huff and shushed her, but the woman didn't seem to get the message.

You turned to Ellie and gave her a gentle nudge. "Hey, now. Let's not be rude," you whispered.

“She’s the one being rude. “Ellie rolled her eyes but quieted down and turned her attention back to the movie.

You on the other hand found yourself growing more and more distracted by the conversation between the woman and Joel. They laughed and chatted, and Joel seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her company. 

Your curiosity was piqued, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Who is that woman? How do they know each other? Did he invite her to watch the movie with him? You tried to focus on the movie, but every time the woman laughed, your attention was drawn back to their conversation.

 Your thoughts didn’t seem to quiet down and raced through your mind, and you found yourself feeling increasingly agitated. At the corner of your eye stole a glance at Ellie, who was engrossed in the movie. 

You strained your ears to catch snippets of the conversation between Joel and the woman and immediately noticed the flirtatious undertones in their banter. The woman was playing with her hair, and Joel kept stealing glances at her. You felt a knot forming in your stomach as you watched them. 

At one point, you heard the woman mention something about a rodeo, and Joel's face lit up with a smile. "Oh, you were a natural on that bull," he whispered, chuckling.

The woman grinned. "Yeah, until I fell off and almost broke my arm," she replied, playfully punching Joel in the arm.

Then, the woman leaned in close to Joel and whispered something in his ear. You couldn't hear what she said, but Joel's eyes widened, and he let out a low chuckle.

She leaned back in her seat. "What do you say, cowboy?" she asked, winking at him.

The credits rolled and the lights came on, and you quickly stood up and you couldn’t wait to get out of there. You couldn't bear to be in the same room as Joel and the woman any longer. You didn’t care how childish you were behaving or if somebody would notice your weird behavior. The jealousy and hurt were too much to bear in this moment.

You hugged Ellie tightly, not wanting to let go. "Thanks for inviting me, Ellie. I had a great time," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ellie looked up at you with concern in her eyes. "Hey, you ok, right?" she asked, sensing that something was off.

You forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, of course, Ellie Bellie. Just a little tired," you lied.

Joel and the woman looked over at you, and you nodded in their direction goodbye, unable to meet their gaze, and quickly made your way out of the hall.

Once outside, you steadied your breathing and tried to compose yourself. You felt foolish for letting your emotions get the best of you. Afterall, Joel was a free man, and he was entitled to date whoever he wanted. You knew this, but you still couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment and hurt.

 Suddenly the sky opened up and it started to rain heavily. It felt like the world was crying with you. The raindrops were mixing with your tears, and you couldn't tell the difference between the two. The wind was picking up, and you felt cold to the bone. It was as if the weather knew the pain you were feeling and was trying to make it worse.

 Your body was shaking uncontrollably, and you felt foolish for thinking that there could have been something between you and Joel. How could you be so naive? Joel was just being kind to you, and you misinterpreted his kind gestures and turned it in some twisted delusional romantic idea.

How pathetic of you for even considering the possibility that Joel might have had feelings for you.

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to hold yourself together as the rain continues to beat down on you.

At the end of the day, Joel Miller, was nothing more than your stupid little crush.

Part 2

[ingravinoveritas]

So came I came across this repost from Al that a fan posted yesterday to which she reposted and to have her say and ad I much I can see she trying to defend ms with the radio getting his name wrong it a common thing for poor ms and I don't think this personally was the guys fault and I think they was reading from a script which I think most radio presenters have I think.

But the thing I noticed also was yes she was trying to defend her parter but also seems complaining that she and the children have to endure listening to the station in the car all the time and that like a another red flag like they literally have nothing in common and I'm still wondering why they still together. Cos I've noticed since michael been London he seems alot happier and heathly cos he closer to his best friend and beaming also. Can we have him stay permanently in London and not go bk to Wales in May.

What ur thoughts on this repost for Al I would to hear

(Grouping these together for ease of answering.)

I had this sent to me a little while ago and I'm...well, it takes a lot to floor me these days, especially in this fandom, but...I think this did it. Because there is so much going on here, and almost none of it is good.

On the surface, I know this very much looks like AL defending Michael, but I do not think that's what this was about at all. I think she saw BBC Radio 6 tagged in the original tweet and saw an opportunity to gain attention due to the proximity of a high-profile account. The way she did it, however, was by making something related to Michael about her. Again. And again, the wording of this retweet takes it from AL defending him to something else entirely.

Saying that she has to "endure" Michael listening to this radio show in the car is just a terrible look, as if listening to something he enjoys is so unbearably awful, and that she only puts up with because she's stuck in a car with him. It feels like she's literally complaining about Michael under the pretense of defending him, and I don't know how she (or anyone else) thinks this is okay.

The thing is, the whole "Martin Sheen" thing has become a running joke precisely because Michael has been dealing with this not just for his whole career, but his entire life. It's something he has frequently talked about, and I can imagine that it has been challenging on so many levels, but Michael also knows that Martin Sheen has been in the business for 60 years, and more than that, he is also a fan of Martin's. He's even talked about being introduced to him at a party years ago (I can't remember by whom, but Michael described the person as saying "Mr. President, meet Mr. Prime Minister"--referring to Martin and Michael's roles in The West Wing and The Queen, respectively).

So yes, the overarching point is that Michael doesn't blame Martin Sheen for these repeated mix-ups, and actually respects him as an actor and person. And when he has felt annoyed about this happening (as he did in 2020 when an ITV announcer called him the wrong name prior to a new episode of Quiz), Michael has had no problem calling it out himself on his own social media. Which speaks to your point @thetardisisblueandroseistoo about her trying to speak on Michael's behalf, and again doing a miserable job of it.

Also, what Michael hasn't done--and I suspect would be horrified at Anna doing--is go after the hosts of a show that he just appeared on yesterday. Particularly a show with hosts he is a tremendous fan of, as he spent a good portion of his appearance gushing about them and how much he enjoys listening to the show. I think he would more than understand the one host making this mistake--given his age and how much more embedded Martin Sheen is in pop culture--and would certainly exercise a lot more graciousness than to write a nasty tweet like the one AL did above.

That's the best way I can describe it: Shades of what we saw in the Insta story from last week, with that same self-aggrandizing, passive-aggressive (and now also kind of bitter) tone. There are a hundred other ways she could have responded to this, yet what she chose was to get in a dig at Michael, plus QT a fan tweet so that it could be misconstrued as her yelling at the fan. And again, in the cases where Michael has called out announcers or others for getting his name wrong, it's because he felt he deserved to have his name said correctly. In this case, however, it seems that AL wants the presenter to get Michael's name right because not doing so is an inconvenience to her.

Those were my impressions of AL's tweet, at any rate. All I can say is that from my perspective, if this was her attempting to defend Michael, it could not have been more backhanded. Glad to hear from my followers as well about your thoughts on this. Thanks for writing in! x

[zerobaselove]

sharing sunsets | sung hanbin

pairing: sung hanbin x gn!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 871

warnings: none! lowercase intended, not proofread

prompts: 23. "why are you looking at me like that?"

notes: genuinely this had me giggling n kicking my feet! anon who requested this i hope u like it and that it's what you hoped for!

more often than not, you spent your summer nights with your best friend hanbin. calling him your best friend didn’t feel like enough, the way he made your heart race had made you realize that your feelings were far from friendly. and hanbin was too hard to read to gain any insight on how he felt; sure, he was always smiling around you and he had become more fond of skinship with you as time went on, but he was just that kind of guy.

the kind of guy that people fall for. the kind of guy you can’t help but admire as if he’s the most beautiful person in the world; and in all honesty, you were convinced he was.

these were the nights you cherished the most, the ones where you were sat on the blanket he kept in his car, watching the sun fall over the skyline, much like how you had fallen for him. 

“isn’t it so pretty?” you wondered out loud, admiring the way the shades of orange and pink blend into the horizon. “so pretty,” he muttered; not taking his eyes off of you, unbeknownst to you. you smiled, your eyes trained on the setting sun for a few moments more, “it just feels unreal, no matter how many times i see it.” you rambled on before turning to look at the boy beside you, only to find him looking back at you with an undistinguishable look in his eyes.

“why are you looking at me like that?” you questioned, tilting your head slightly as you waited for a response. he shook his head for a moment, almost as if trying to return to reality before his lips parted. “because you’re prettier than any sunset.” he said matter-of-factly, as if unaware of the effect that confession would have on you.

you weren't sure how long you had sat there, mouth dry and head empty of anything other than the boy in front of you. the pinkish orange hue being cast on his skin wasn't helping your case, not able to form a single coherent sentence. you stuttered out a few syllables, being met with his ever so patient and loving smile.

you were a goner.

"was it something i said?" he giggled after another few moments of silence from you which finally brought you back down to earth for a moment. "was it something you-" you paused, in disbelief. did he really not know what his words were doing to you? "you can't just say that to me hanbin." you whined, smacking his arm in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere and get out of your own head.

"but it's true," he started, fully turning his body to face you as you subconsciously mirrored his movements. "i mean it's no wonder i'm in love with you, look at you." now it was his turn to sit there in disbelief over his own words. "shit, i-" his hands came up to cover his face. "i really blew that didn't i, pretend you didn't hear that." the words rushed out of his mouth like a waterfall of unfiltered thoughts.

peaking through his fingers for a moment, he made eye contact with you, hiding behind his fingers again as if playing hide and seek with his feelings. "god, now why are you looking at me like that." his words had been muffled by his hands, but you could still make out what he had said, and it was your turn to be bold.

"because hanbin," you grabbed his hands in your own, "i love you more than any sunset we've seen, and i've been wondering how you've felt about me for ages now."

"we've seen a lot of sunsets you know," he joked, still trying to process the mutual confession that was happening in front of his eyes. "i know, and i still love you more than every single one combined." you both breathed a sigh of relief in sync, the anxiety of not knowing how the other felt had dissipated, blown away by the warm breeze, leaving you with a new feeling amongst yourselves.

while the sky had turned more of a blue hue, the pink had remained dusted on his cheeks, and it was the prettiest he had ever looked. he was your own personal sunset.

"is it okay if i," he hesitated, leaning in closer to you in hopes of you getting the hint. you nodded, albeit a little too eagerly, "more than okay." his hand had come up to rest on your cheek, so gently, as if you would break, before connecting your lips. the feeling of his lips on yours was better than you could've imagined. the perfect moment with the perfect boy.

"god you're so pretty," he muttered, pulling apart from the kiss with a smile spreading from ear to ear despite trying to contain it. "you can't keep saying that to me hanbin." your blush intensified, looking down at your shoelaces to avoid his gaze, but he wasn't having that at all; lifting your chin to look at him, being met with a smile that you were sure would kill you. "i'm going to keep saying it, so get used to it."

[kaledya]

I'm will mess the order of our conversations but I need to explain how the things happened !

So I was on Youtube, and i saw your post about you wanting to do some dark fantasy/steampunk story on your own world (and it is also my favorite type of book but with more fantasy politics I'm writing in my langage) and I was so hyped for the idea like putting some pom-pom girl outfit or whatever to encourage you to do it!!

Like let's go ! You have the potential and I will watch it all ! (Well not that my support can really help cause I have no influence on internet whatsoever but ahah) I will love it ! Like slayyyy🌸🌸🌸

And then I thought perhaps you had some concept art already on tumblr so I go here and then... IMMEDIATELY was attacked by your gift  and I was not ready. Kaledya *take my hamster* Like the doodles are so sooo cute !

First, Narrator is smooth. Ah ! My crazy baby. Just by the shape of his smile you know its over ahah

Second, Lolicia's second outfit (thanks bg3 again) and just, I just love how calm she looks.🌸 You did her so well, I need to try to do a profile like that for her!

Third, my favorite, the Human Lolicia. So pretty! First the doodles with the big eyes ! I love when you do that with the characters its very adorable. And her human face and the look is so Lolicia i think like soft and... unhinged a bit scary. Love it.

Fourth, Vittorio aaaah. So mischievous. *take my Astarion hamster back.*

Thank you ! I was not prepared! I know I was suppose to be. But I was not ahah. I will gift you back !🌸

_

I'm glad you liked the gift ! I will draw more and hopefully get better and better !

And fore the shape-shifting idea of Constantine for justifying differents type of horns is 🌸clever🌸. All questions of people answered just by that!

Also yes thank you, I just play doll with Lolicia's outfit and I justify it by saying its Velvette who makes it ahah

_

Anw I like your OCs too! And yes Narrator steal hearts of everyone I saw, good for him ahah ! Oh yes ! I think even if Constantine had a very strict and extreme education, even princes had time to go out with "friends" even if Constantine never really had friends before Serinity he still had guys of his age to spent time with sometimes and they just had a moment to be free a bit. So teen Constantine and Verdelet/Narrator we will see them in the short story !

I saw Turkish people weaponry in museum too! I don't like guns of our times but old riffles like that ? Yes. And don't mention Berserk like its not a trauma manga 😭 ahah

_

I love all of your designs I just don't say it all the time but I do!

_

I just love when you give all the comments about the chapters, rating about the songs and the ambiance (thank you again i just can't-) and then you just like :

You : So beautiful, I love it but now THE REAL DEAL, I don't fucking care, I want to know ABOUT LOLICIA...

And that just kill me with laugh. Every. Time.

_

Also for your exams (that is a damn important part) glad you made it to your first exam ! And for your boss exam just take an armor, focus on shading and proportion and just go for it. Slay! Everything will be okay *pom pom girl movement* Just slap that ART exam in the face.

The villain career just killed me twice ! Honestly, I can write your villain songs no problem. Let me just kidnapped a musician real quick just in case...

_

Thank you ! And you will do a fantastic animator once you are in that university of animation you want to be in. I'm not even worry, you have made a lot of progress since your first and last animatics on youtube for exemple, from the positioning of the characters, the dramatic effect linked to the music lyrics, the differents perspectives and the little details in the poses and camera work. So continue to be what you are !🌸🌸🌸

Now I will write !

OMG!!! Do you like the steampunk/fantasy theme too!!?? I'm so glad to hear that!! I seriously love this theme, both visually and in terms of the factors it adds to the story.

Right now, in my mind, the place where the first part of the story will take place will be a city that relies on technology and does not have much magic. Maybe it could be a region with class distinctions, a bit like the cyberpunk universe.

Or a universe where there is a lot of life difference between the nobles (wealthy people) and the Lower class people. in Red Rising and Mistborn While one side lives a rosy life amidst wealth, the other side is drowned in misery.

And did I understand correctly? Are you writing your own story about this concept in your own language??

SHOW MEEEEEE (in niffty's voice)

And THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! AND YOUR WORDS MEAN A LOT TO ME, THANKS A LOT!!❤️❤️❤️ And it doesn't matter whether you have an influence on the internet or not, you are someone whose work I love very much, it is an honor to be supported by you!)

---

YAAAAAAAAAY *gently takes the hamster* I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT!!!! I wish I could draw them more now. I love all of them very much, and I love Verdelet more and more with each passing chapter! Lolicia is great as always and not to mention Abaddon. I want to draw him so bad and I'm so excited for Charlie's meeting with him!

*kindly gives the hamster back*

----

And definitely! Constantine was someone who thought that there could be alliances in hell, but even those he thought friendship was impossible, this changed with Serenity, but it was a very sloooooow process. Even then, at first, instead of calling Serenity a friend, Constantine says this "she is tolerable or I find her amusement."So it really was a long process of acceptance for him.

And yes! Although Constantine had no friends when he was young, he spent a lot of time with people at his age: his cousins, or other high nobles like Verdelet!

And I read that short story and loved it!!Constsntine's training sequence, the dialogues between him and Verdelet, everything!! I really loved the dialogues and dynamics of Verdelet and Constantine. It was great to read the little adventure between them!!

And I love brothel story arcs for some reason too.Strangely, very rich story arcs can occur in brothels. I always think of the Yoshiwara arc in Gintama, it was a really great arc.

Also, the scenes where Verdelet takes Constantine to the brothel and they live there were beautiful!

Con: These pants are not coming on tonight. *" You dont have my attention "by looking at the brothel*

Verdelet:HAH! I never said anything like that *rips out someone's heart and shows it to Con* We're just going to do a live anatomy lesson" *"well.. you got my attention now"*

The short story was a seriously fun read!

--

Definitely! In general, everything that is old seems more artistic to me, even the rain pipes on buildings.

Yes, it was a trauma (experiences traumatic flashback), but on the other hand, it was a masterpiece manga. It was a perfect manga, both in terms of story and drawings.(funny part is, I'm wearing a Berserk t-shirt while writing this part)

----

And (⁠´⁠⊙⁠ω⁠⊙⁠`⁠)⁠→of course I will do this, you always bless me in your writing

And LMAO I love Lolicia and your OCs in general. Sometimes I even say, "Damn the general plot, I want to see these characters."Looking forward to Lolicia and Con meeting *getting ready to draw ship fanart*

And all joking aside, I love the designs you chose for your OCs in general and I also love their personalities. They are so fun to read. On the other hand, if you write a story that is told only POW of your OCs Please send it to me, I'll be happy to read it! 🛐🛐

---

And thank you very much for the support!!!! I hope I can win by working hard But just in case *prepares rope for kidnapping*

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL OF YOUR KIND WORDS!!!!❤️❤️❤️

____

Now it's time to talk about short stories. The short story between Azrael and Abaddon was simply a masterpiece.I loved the dialogues between them, their protection details were very nice.I really liked Abaddon's personality, you really created a beautiful character.

Michael's idea of giving Charlie and Constantine a blessing to prevent them from going to the dark side was really interesting.At least it clearly worked on Charlie. 2x cinnamon rolls

And Azrael taking care of Lucifer's ducks was so sweet!!

I'm seriously excited to see abaddon in the future.

And I LOVED ABADDON'S DESIGN AND AZRAEL LOOKS AMAZING !!!

In short, thank you again for blessing my eyes!!

Have a good day❤️❤️

[que-de-metal]

When I was 13 I found out about Copic Markers on deviantart, which, according to the numerous tutorials on how to use them, were a magic medium that made everything look very pro. However, I couldn't afford them. Hammering the belief in my head that "A marker is a marker, how different could they be? There has to be a cheap brand out there that is just as good", I started buying all of the cheap felt tip pens that I could get my hands on to test the different brands. I also asked for pens and markers for every birthday and holiday with no regards on how cheap the brand, and then proceeded to murder the hell out of my sketchbooks by trying to blend with them like you would with a Copic.

I stopped using markers around age 16, much more enticed by coloring pencils and oil pastels, but because I do not throw away things that still work, yet they were too worn down to be donated, the sharpie collection stayed in a box to be sparsingly used over the years. I have carried them through the 7 different houses I lived in since then, checking before each time moving out if any of them had gone dry then packing them up.

Recently while doing a big autumn cleaning in my flat I got angry at those. How long was I going to have this box taking space in my room despite only being used once a year? I grabbed my sketcbook and decided that since I can't throw them out until they're dry, I'd draw with them until they did. So I spent a whole night just drawing random shit with them.

Turns out they have more in their belly than I excpected them too. Some of them have been half-dry for, at this point, almost 15 years, and they are somehow still kicking (or at least, kicking enough so I can shade with them). One night was definitely not enough to finish all of these bad boys. I managed to finish and throw out less than 10% of the collection, but in the process I rediscovered ways to have fun with sharpie and re-cement them as a medium that I can sometime use in my sketchbooks.

[mangoshorthand]

Thing of the Past- [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch8 (Hard Feelings Part 4)

SUMMARY: You can't avoid it any longer: Five has to meet your parents. It goes more wrong than you could possibly imagine, spiralling to bring up secrets he'd rather stay buried.

⚠️TRIGGER WARNINGS⚠️ Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine- Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven/Epilogue

Five struggles to reconcile his rediscovered trauma with his desires.

Uploaded late because I suck.

⚠️Please heed content warning⚠️

Chapter Eight: Freud

Before the full heat of the day, you walk hand in hand beneath the olive trees, kicking up the dusty earth. Even now, the sun’s hotter than you’re used to. From the valley, you can see hundreds of grape vines disappearing into the hills in parallel lines. They follow the undulating curvature of the country; grooves on the land's fingerprint. 

“How about we walk up towards the village later?” 

“How are you not more hungover?” you groan.

“Powering through, I guess.”

With a little grunt more suitable to his internal rather than external age, he sits beneath a particularly gnarled tree and pats his lap expectantly. You perch there and he wraps his arms around you. It’s rare to see him in short sleeves so you take the opportunity to admire the subtle lines of his muscle. His usually pasty skin is starting to turn red in the sun.

“Did you use sunblock?”

“Forgot.”

“Then let’s head inside.”

“No.” He holds you to him more tightly in childish refusal and kisses your cheek from behind. He tips you slightly to one side, intending to playfight but succeeding only in making your head spin.

“Ugh,” you moan, and he rights you.

“Sorry, dear.”

The nausea fades and you lean your head against his shoulder. A lark sitting in a neighbouring tree trills its song, hopping gaily from one knotted branch to another. You feel his body relax with the press of your back and you run your fingers over a jagged scar on his reddening left bicep.

“Just look how white this scar is compared to your skin. It’s not good for you.”

He looks where you’re indicating, forgetting the sun as his eyes find it. He stares at his arm for what feels like a long time. One of his index fingers draws circles on the ground. When he speaks, his voice is calm but distant.

“There used to be a line of long scars there. She did them with her nails one time.”

His hand contorts to a claw and drags along the ground, leaving three-inch long channels in the dirt in the wake of each finger. A gust of warm breeze flows its way into the valley, making the lark take flight as its tree's leaves rustle. It reaches the pair of you and eddies among the hairs, erect on the back of your neck.

“Y’know, the older I get, the gladder I am that I fucked up the jump to 2019. I got to undo a lot of physical damage.”

The other side of this coin hangs between you, verbally unacknowledged. The physical damage could be reversed, but not the mental. He leans further into the tree, deepening your recline into him.

“Later, if you feel better, can I try again?”

“Try what?” 

“Fooling around. Maybe if we just touched ourselves? I think I could do it that way without feeling…and I do want you.”

He nuzzles you, nose in your hair.

“If you’re sure? We go at your pace.”

“I’m sure if you are. Maybe this afternoon? We could see where it takes us."

You remove your cotton wrap, turn and drape it around his shoulders. He covers his exposed arms and then lays them on top of yours, shielding you both from the sun.

Most of the morning is spent lying in the suite’s hot tub on the terrace, Five keeping you both dutifully hydrated and shaded from the sun. When you fall asleep in there, sunglasses pushed askew against his shoulder, he looks down at you and smiles before returning his eyes to the sky and the thin altostratus clouds. 

His own hangover is all but dispersed: relegated to slight muscle aches for which the hot-tub is doing wonders. Apparently, yours is still raging, but sleep will be the best thing. He supposes being physically younger has something to do with him shaking it off sooner but the reflection worries him nevertheless. He had seen a glimpse of what the future could hold for him in the doppelganger who’d sacrificed himself to save you.

That version of him had clearly been a just-functional alcoholic; his mission the only thing keeping him from non-functionality. Yet, eventually, Five had liked him, (or liked himself), in spite of the uncomfortable truth he had revealed about him. Five's mind wandered: he would have understood. That older Five had been through the same things as him and more. No doubt he would say the shit with the Handler and the apocalypse faded into insignificance beside burying your baby and the woman you love in an unmarked grave, but he would still get it.

For the first time in years, the loneliness that had crippled him during the apocalypse-years rips through his chest. The sky blooms out above him in its infinitude and shrinks him down and down. 

Alone. Small. Insignificant.

You tried to understand, his siblings tried to understand and the trying was good but the fact remained that none of them would really get it; they couldn't. Being (almost) alone for decades had left him alone indelibly and irrevocably. The mind is auto-cannibalistic when left to pickle in its own company and, of this, Dolores had been both symptom and cure. Decades of decay had left him always alone no matter how big the crowd.

Or, if not alone, then lonely. 

He isn't conscious of his body aside from the blood pumping in his ears. He's off somewhere in the stratosphere, or else falling endlessly into the nested black holes of a kugelblitz. 

But then…you do get it- at least some of it. Even if you don’t understand, you act understanding.

He's aware of his breath now, gasping.

Yesterday, you let him give you that halting, childish kiss without pushing for something more normal. You perform understanding and maybe that’s enough.

His mind and lungs exhale and expand again, bringing his focus down and back into his body, your solid form and sunglasses cutting slightly into him. Now, he can slow his breathing and count the seconds he inhales, holds and exhales. After ten breaths, he's calm again.

He wakes you gently with a kiss and a tiny shrug of his shoulder.

“Come on, you. It’s not good to stay in here for too long.”

“Mmhhm,” you agree.

“Let’s take a nap and then I’ll order us some food, huh?”

After removing your swimsuits and drying yourselves hastily, you lie together on the fresh-sheeted bed, still damp. You’re asleep again almost as soon as you pull him to you, his cheek on your chest. He closes his eyes and lets your steady heartbeat lull him. He ignores his mind as it plays back her voice:

“So pure like this.”

Late that afternoon, you awoke to find your hangover almost dispelled. After some lunch and light reading, you finally manage to see it off.

“You seem to be better?” he remarks, as you jump back onto the bed beside him, bouncing slightly in exuberance.

“Yup. How about you?”

“I’m just fine and dandy,”

He strokes a finger from your shoulder down to your forearm, a question in his eye. You tilt your head and raise your eyebrows, encouraging him to verbalize his question:

“How about you and I get up to something…?”

“Hmm….that sounds nice. What do you have in mind?”

“I don’t think I could…” his voice falters so he reframes the idea: “I want to watch you.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, finding yourself smiling at the fortuitous purchase you’d made before the wedding, now hidden amongst your possessions. You stand, let your robe fall and move towards the suite’s closet.

“So, Mr Hargreeves, you want me to put on a show?”

“O-only if you want to”

 You emerge from the suitcase with an eight-inch, transparent silicon dildo and his eyes go wide.

“I definitely want to.”

He sits up hurriedly, eyes not leaving the dildo.

“Is that new?”

“Yeah.” You smile impishly. “Honeymoon- you know.”

“Hm…”

“So…you can just lay back and watch.”

He smiles slightly guiltily, “That sounds...good.”

“But I’m going to need to get wet before you watch me, so how do you feel about making out?”

"I think I could manage that.”

He opens his arms and you join him on the bed. You don’t want to get on top of him for obvious reasons, and he doesn’t want to get on top of you for reasons that feel equally obvious to him. So, to begin with you lie on your sides, kissing and caressing. He’s more yielding than usual, but his tongue becomes more active the more he loses himself in the kiss. Soon, your hands are on each other’s asses, rutting at one another like horny teenagers. His robe falls open, giving your skin delicious, longed-for contact with his.

Heat builds in your stomach. You need more friction so, unthinking, you pull him over on top of you. He straddles you eagerly and grinds his hips into you. As you kiss, you wrap your legs around his waist. When he thrusts again, his dick slides down your slit, the tip nearly entering you.

You both gasp, surprised. He freezes, tenses and pulls back.

“I’d guess you’re wet enough.” he looks down on you, eyebrows raised. He likes that he can get you like this just by rubbing his body against yours. But he pushes the feeling down…danger lies at the end of that line of thought.

He gets off you and lies at right angles to you at the end of the bed, cupping his balls while you prop yourself up against the headboard and open your legs.

When you slide the dildo inside, he starts to jack himself off.

“I can see you stretch.”

“It feels big.” you whisper, letting the dildo reach the apex and shifting your hips to prod your g-spot.

“It’s for sure bigger than me.”

You start to fuck yourself, watching him as he watches you.

You notice that his strokes speed up when you pull the dildo fully out of yourself and he can see the whole length sliding in and out, disappearing and reappearing from your folds. It feels strange, to see him looking at you like that without him touching you; he looks as turned on as you’ve ever seen him.

He stares, feeling like he’s drooling. As much as he wishes he were that dildo, he doesn’t want that because then he’d lose this delicious sight. He watches your come dripping stickily onto the toy and his mind goes numb. He moans almost beseechingly, speeding his strokes. But he doesn’t want to come yet. He needs something else to do with his hands so rises to a kneel.

“Can I?” he gestures to the dildo.

“Sure”

You yield it to his hand and he does something that breaks your brain.

He slides it out of you slowly and lifts it to his lips. Then, looking you directly in the eye, he licks your come off it, starting from the base and running his tongue to the tip. Finally, he takes three inches of it into his mouth and sucks it like a lollipop, never letting his gaze leave yours.

“Tastes good.” He murmurs, stroking his dick more firmly.

When you talk, your voice comes out low in your throat.

“That was fucking filthy.”

He leans over and kisses you and you taste yourself on his lips. You moan out your anticipation as he slaps your pussy with the dildo. When he puts it inside you, he’s gentle, searching for the right angle but keeping a steady, pumping rhythm.

You raise your hips.

“Ah! There. Like that,” he speeds up and your eyes meet. You can feel his cock rubbing your thigh, “Can I rub you?”

He falters, “…maybe not.”

“Okay.”

He takes himself in hand and jerks in long strokes. He goes harder and faster with the toy on your g-spot, watching the dildo in his hand. His eyes are alight, his neck tense and jaw set. He looks almost angry in lust; his nose wrinkled, brow tight and teeth bared.

Fuck, you’re hot. His wife now; his wife. Shit. You like it hard like this. He can tell by the little mewls of encouragement you make as he speeds up, the way your hand tightens reflexively around his leg. You’re taking its whole length like a champ. He fucks his fist. You want it. He wants it. He wants to fuck you with your ankles up on his shoulders, wants to feel your warmth clenching every inch of him, massaging come out of him with your muscles. He wants to make you scream and cry on the end of his dick, scream and cry for him…he wants…

As his cock twitches slightly, a glob of spit flies between his teeth, landing on your cheek and dripping towards your mouth. Your pussy gives a particularly pleasurable throb as you imagine him spitting on you again…on purpose this time.

Your neck arches and eyes flash. The combination of his feral face, breathing, saliva on your face, and the toy pummelling your insides sends you falling behind a thick veil of pleasure. Behind your own groans, you hear his breathing become labored as he spurts against his fingers. He can’t keep a steady rhythm on the toy so you take it from him, jackhammering it into yourself and rubbing your swollen clit. He yells as if in pain, his thrusting pelvis rubbing his dick into his fist as his swollen tip drools the last few drops.

He collapses onto you, disregarding the come between himself and the bed. He wheezes out the question before he can catch his breath:

“Are you ok?”

“I’m more than ok.” You kiss him tenderly.

He allows himself to be kissed but becomes more preoccupied the longer you go. Post-orgasm clarity is closing in.

“Are you ok?”

“We’d better clean up,” he says.

You have a quick shower while he attends to the bed, his stomach and hand with a wet washcloth. When you’re back on the couch together, he naked and you wrapped in a towel, you lie down on his chest.

He strokes your arm, lost in thought. You can tell by the frenetic movement of his toes that he’s preoccupied.

“What’s up, sweet guy? Was that too soon?”

He blows out a breath and continues caressing you. His toes still tap. When he speaks, he sounds almost apologetic.

“Your Dad’s older than your Mom.”

“Huh?”

“What is he, eighty?”

“Yeah. Eighty-one.”

“…which means he would have been in his sixties when you were a teen.”

You don’t like where this is going.

“Have you been reading Freud?” you ask, trying to inject some levity. When he doesn’t answer, you continue, “You know he was a bit of a crackpot coke-fiend, right?”

Five ignores this. You feel his body tense beneath yours. Both his hands grip each of your upper arms with firm, supportive gentleness. When he speaks, he’s assertive.

“This might hurt but I’m going to ask you something and I need you to be honest. I've been honest with you; you owe me.”

“Five?”

“Please. Whatever you have to tell me, I can take it. You're my wife now; we'll get through it together, no matter what it means.”

His tone worries you, so you stroke his leg, trying to ease him.

“Okay, okay.”

He takes in a deep breath and holds you tighter.

“I don’t need details…but…did he ever…hurt you?”

“Woah.”

“…were you abused?”

“No!”

“-by any older man. Or anyone.”

“Of course not! What gave you that idea?”

You try to sit up but he’s still holding you.

“Tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell!” You wrench yourself out of his grip and sit up to face him, “The worst Dad ever did was swat me on the ass with a rolled up TV guide because I switched the football over to Ugly Betty. What made you ask that?”

“I just…” he crumples, putting his hand to his head, “I saw how much you wanted me to take charge, to maybe hurt you a little…and you called me Mr Hargreeves and maybe you’re…”

He trails off, tossing his head in frustration.  You sit up and stroke his face, leaning over him as he lies on the couch.

“I like it, you like it. Don’t overcomplicate it. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. Freud said that too, presumably when he wasn't railing lines of blow off his mom's tits.”

Five chuckles reluctantly, cheek dimples appearing momentarily before smoothing over again.

"But I'm so much older."

"Haven't we been through this- right back at the start? You didn't care then."

"Because I didn't realize that I..."

“That what? Is this you trying to believe that you’re acting out your trauma on me again?”

He doesn’t respond.

“Tell me something: when you were an actual teenager, living in the library and having your marathon jerk-off sessions, what did you enjoy reading about the most?”

“I guess I wasn’t picky. But I suppose it was…stuff where the woman was submissive sexually,” he nods his head as if confirming this to himself. “So…it’s wrong to say that I only learned it from what the Handler did to me. I think I’ve always been like this… isn’t that worse?”

“You’re determined to see yourself as the bad guy, aren’t you?”

“There’s no such thing as 'the bad guy'.” he deflects.

You sigh, even in extremis he’s pedantic. “As an abuser then.”

Apparently unable to quibble with this word, he looks away. You continue:

“So why would you think that?”

“Because it was humiliating.” He lowers his voice, “I knew what it was like from the other side and I still did it to you.”

“But I like that: I trust you. You didn’t like it and there was no trust there. I like to feel a touch humiliated during- as long as I know it's all fantasy. And the difference is, Five, I consent: I ask for it. Hell, I’d beg for it when it comes to you.”

He meets your eyes. You know your words are slightly arousing to him in spite of himself.

“If someone did that to me without my consent then I’d feel like you did. Look at it this way: how does it feel when I ride you? When I flip the script a little and take control?”

“Good.”

“Isn't...that what she did? Remember that time I called you a ‘good boy’ and you seemed into it? Was that…okay? In light of this?”

His eyebrows knit together. How could you ask such a stupid question?

“Of course. It was you- it’s completely different. You're nothing like her.”

“Exactly. That’s how it is for me.”

His mouth contorts in semi-skepticism so you continue.

“Just…let me throw an idea out there: even if you were acting out your trauma on me…is that a problem?”

“Obviously.” He says, brow lowering, the little crease appearing between his eyebrows

“Why? If I consent and enjoy it? Isn’t that how some people deal with being raped anyway? Re-experiencing some of it in a way they're in control?”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” He says, abruptly, clearly approaching the limit of his emotional bandwidth.

“Okay.” You kiss the crown of his head and ease his head onto your chest, running his soft hair inbetween your fingers. You hug him to you, pulling a blanket from a wicker basket beside the sofa and wrapping it tightly around you both. You hold him as warm and firm as you can, as if you can squeeze the bad feelings out of him. 

“One last thing: would you consider speaking to a therapist?”

He snorts.

“Sure: hello Doctor, I spent decades shitting into holes in the ground while having a romantic relationship with a mannequin. Then I became an assassin for an organisation in dire need of HR reform."

You sigh. He's predictable.

“Well …okay. We’ll muddle through it together then. For now.”

You fall into companionable silence. 

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh, @nevbrooke-555, @theredvelvetbitch, @td-miley01, @five-hxrgreeves, @rorygi1more, @jamiebower88

Masterpost

Alternatively, join me on A03.  Here is a link to the whole series

Reblogs and comments much appreciated if you enjoy.

[artzychic27]

Headcanon’s about DC Kids AU: Aurore’s hero name would be Whirlpool. Cosette’s would be Buzz Kill. Zoe’s realtionship with her blood siblings in a nutshell: “If I have a Penny for each half sibling that is only a few months older than me and is a jerk, I would have 2 Pennies. It’s not much, but weird that happened twice”. Mireille screamed at Volpina during a battle to make her illusions disappear.

Okay, let's do this!

Zoé: 'Sup, dick?

Dick: I can hear you using lowercase 'D,' you basic-ass blonde.

Zoé: Jealous I got a hot girlfriend and Starfire met someone else? Yeah, fuck you, dick.

-

Jean: Okay, okay! If you guys had to choose your superhero names... What would they be?!

Simon: Kid Quick.

Denise: Really?

Simon: Kid Flash is taken.

Ismael: Krypto-Kid.

Aurore: Okay, not bad. Simon, take notes. I'd go by Whirlpool.

Cosette: Can't decide between AC/DC, Buzz Kill, or Voltage. There's just too many electricity puns!

Zoé: I am the night. I am the vengeance. I am... Still thinking of something other than Robin.

-

Mireille: Hey, Volpina!

Volpina Illusions: What?!

Mireille: *Screams, causing the illusions to disappear when they're hit by the strong soundwaves, revealing the real Volpina who's going to have tinnitus for real*

-

*Still coming up with names*

Simon: Uh... Lightning Run?

Cosette: The electricity-based stuff is mine.

Simon: Ugh! This is hard! Marc, you go!

Marc: Would my Tamaranean-translated name suffice?

Aurore: Depends. What is it?

Marc: Myzan'r.

Jean: I like it!

Simon: Aw, come on!

-

Simon: Anyone want Japanese food for lunch?

Ismael: Sure.

Denise: I could eat.

Mireille: Pick me up some onigiri.

Simon: Be right back. *Dashes off, then returns seconds later with five bags in his hands* Guess who had time to grab mochi!

-

Kiran: Marc! Do the thing! Do the thing!

Marc: Okay, come here!

Nathaniel: What thing?

Marc: *Holding Kiran* Ready... Set... *Throws Kiran high into the air*

Nathaniel: ...

Marc: ... *Catches Kiran back in his arms* Nathaniel, would you like to try?

Nathaniel: *Backs away* No.

Ismael, Denise, and Marc can deadlift the Eiffel Tower like it's nothing

While on the phone, Aurore walked into the pool without a second thought and resumed her conversation for about ten minutes. It baffled Kim and Ondine for weeks

Lacey LOVES getting head pats. It's even better when she turns into a cat

Sometimes Jean talks in reverse without even thinking, and inadvertently casts a few spells

Whenever sunspots occur, Cosette's powers go haywire and create an electrical aura around her. It's best to keep your distance for a few hours... Or days

Denise doesn't even need the Lasso of Truth. Just one glare from them can have any pour soul spilling their guts

So she’s not blowing everyone’s eardrums out by stress-screaming, Mireille took up boxing to get her anger out

Tamaranean puberty can start at any age. For Marc, it started when he was fifteen, and he spent the week covering his face with his hood

Aurore: Marc, I'm sure it's not that bad.

Marc: *Crying* Yes, it is! I look like a raw glorkaroach!

Denise: Hon, you're probably blowing this all out of proportion. Now, let's see that darling face, and- *Marc pulls down his hood* Oh! Oh, Athena! That is not right!... *Pulls Marc's hood back up and pats his head* Yeah, just... Keep that on.

Marc: *Cries again*

Their outfits have some elements of their hero parents

Aurore’s skirts and tops have gold fish scales, and she has trident earrings

Mireille manages to make leather and sweaters work with each other. She also has a lot of fishnets

It’s not rare to see stars embroidered on Denise’s skirts

Marc often wears purple and jewelry made from metals found on Tamaran

Simon wears more warm colors and a few of his shirts have The Flash’s logo embroidered on it

Cosette’s color schemes usually consist of blue, yellow, white, and black

Zoé’s got a lot of black with some hints of yellow. There’s no way in hell she’s going out in Robin colors again

Ismael’s cardigan is a brighter shade of blue with red cuffs

A lot of Reshma’s clothes have vine patterns on the sleeves and hems

Lacey wears Beast Boy’s signature shade of purple with some hints of black

Jean dresses all fancy with bow ties, crop jackets, and tiny top hats on a headband

Now as for Jean and Austin’s relationship- Jean often makes Austin’s favorite flowers appear in his locker

Oh, and Austin knows that he and his friends are related to DC heroes. His dad actually came across Zoé’s dad a few times in Gotham before he was put away

They don’t care much for the Marvel heroes

Simon: Darkseid. The most dangerous villain in the universe. Powerful enough to defeat any hero he faces.

Ismael: Even Superman?

Simon: Yes.

Zoé: Batman?

Simon: Yes.

Reshma: Spider-Man?

Simon: Well, Spider-Man wouldn't fight Darkseid.

Marc: Is it because he is too lazy?

Ismael: What a bum!

Lacey: You know, this really lowers my opinion of Spider-Man.

Whenever they go into battle, there’s always this weird sequence with a 40s-era sounding announcer

Assembled in the tenth grade class of Francoise DuPont in Paris are the world's greatest young heroes. Simon! The fastest demiboy on Earth, but needs to improve his endurance. Zoé! He REALLY hates his brothers! Denise! They’ve got bracelets, and a rope! Cosette! A human taser with outdated slang! Lacey! The animal shapeshifter who sometimes eats meat! Jean! A spectacular magician who can talk in reverse and confuse people! Ismael! He successfully managed Superman’s signature curl! Marc! This alien prince is already spoken for, boys! Mireille! She can and will destroy your eardrums! And Aurore! She hates dolphins and finds them to be jerks! Evil-doers beware! These kids are doing things! Everywhere! With their underwear on the outside!

*The DC Kids look around for the source of the voice*

Aurore: Where is that coming from?!

Simon: *Searching through his bag* I-is there like a tape recorder somewhere?

Marc: *Blasts a hole through the wall* Still can’t find it!

[ambiguouspuzuma]

Constructive feedback

I'm a compulsive feed-backer. At least, I think that's the right word. It feels like the verb might be in the wrong place - one who backs feeds, perhaps, like a supporter of TV channels - but I'm not sure of the alternative. Back-feeder? Or does that make me sound like one of those oxpeckers - you know, the birds that ride around on kudu or wildebeest - or something else entirely? You can let me know, if you like. I certainly would.

I mean that I give feedback. Any chance I get, really - and you'd be surprised how many there are. The pop-up that you'd usually swipe away; the installation screens you scramble through. Am I willing to spare two minutes for a quick survey? You bet. Rate us in the app store? Don't mind if I do.

Sometimes they don't even ask for it. There's just a company email address on the leaflet, a pause in the spiel, and suddenly I'm giving more feedback than a microphone within an inch of its own speaker. I write letters to global corporations; I phone back their call centres; I scribble on marketing flyers and return them to sender. A compulsion, as I said. It's a problem, except that I'm not sure that it is.

I like to feel that, in my own small way, I'm improving the world. Most people don't have the patience for all of that work, and so it's down to the likes of me, the back-feeders, to spot the errors; to suggest the improvements; to do the silent work that makes everything we use a little bit better. I identify bugs, and I swat them away before they have the chance to land on your salad. You're welcome.

By and large, I find myself ignored, and that's okay. I'll occasionally feed that back in turn, for important stuff - when the council take too long to acknowledge my letters about potholes, for instance - but otherwise I'm happy to work in the shadows, offering up my free advice without the hope of recognition or reward.

They don't all have to heed my words. I know that I can be pernickety, a pedant, a perfectionist. Not all of my suggested improvements can be prioritised, and I appreciate that resources might be better spent elsewhere. I just give them the information, and leave the best course of action for them to decide.

That is, I used to. Until the start of this month, when I left a restaurant a two star review, and walked past later to find it had closed down. I felt guilty, wondering if I was responsible, although I hadn't thought my words too harsh; perhaps the proprietor had thinner skin than that which lay across the surface of his soup, I thought.

But then I called the local pet store's attention to the uneven drawing of its parking bays, and they vanished too: not even the shop, just the car park. I tried it with a park I visited, which needed more benches in the shade, and suddenly there weren't any benches, or even any shade. It felt like a petulant response, co-ordinated across the various powers that be, sick and tired of my complaining. It was like I was provoking them, or they were trying to provoke me.

I tried to cut back, of course, but you can't just quit the habit of a lifetime. I decided to redirect my energies elsewhere, starting a blog to vent my thoughts about life more generally, rather than risk upsetting any more people: I moaned about the way it always seemed to rain on the weekend, or how quickly my knees and back had gone with age, and suggested flaws in natural systems, like the strange way that animals and plants with warning colours now looked more attractive to humans, particularly young children.

One day I received a parcel in the post. I hadn't been expecting anything, and my immediate thought was that the postal service had delivered to the wrong address, despite my previous corrections, but it was my name on the label. Inside the box, I found another note addressed to me, atop a set of neatly folded golden robes.

"Go on, then," it read, in a language I shouldn't have been able to read, and therefore couldn't check for typos. "Let's see you do any better."

[gyubby99]

@disneyanddisneyships guess who's back?

Also, kind of a crossover

"You know.." A voice boomed, prickling Hope's neck like danger. All she wanted was a peaceful night's walk, but she was met with a significant yet unfamiliar presence, one that were of shadows creeping up on her tail on dark vestibules. Hope was alarmed, yet her guard stayed up as well and her pride.

She knew exactly who he was.

"There's nothing like summer in the city.." the male voice trailed off, and all Hope could picture in her head was a dark shade of crimson red. Without turning around she recognized the definition of trouble.

"And a lonesome prince meets someone looking pretty." Rather complacently, he stated. Hope could not believe that he, out of all people could try to catch her attention by cheap poetry he's probably heard somewhere off a theater musical.

For turn of phrase, she had someone else in mind, and is definetely not this person.

"A princess' time ought to be spent well. What do you want, Westergaard?" Hope spoke out, rather irritated by the fact that she had to spend an entire gallon of oxygen breathing in his direction, than to finally solve the rivalry between her kingdom and that... prince's.

"Oh, feisty? Reminds me of someone.." Westergaard wondered aloud, musing about a certain princess that had ruined his life.

"I'll ask again. What do you want?" Hope was a fierce little rose, whose thorns have been deemed harmless. For her age, she'd managed to advance her physical attributes with the help of her father, and the fraction of her mother's mind.

Westergaard chuckled. "Well, I've heard rumors about your kingdom, the great war? Your father who've been working for the throne, lost to females who think they rule the world?"

Hope scoffed. "Please, do tell me something I don't know."

She would rather have someone else monologue to her about how she lost the war, someone who's more tolerable for her liking. She finds Westergaard's taunts empty, all while finding herself longing for a different voice to hear.

Only because, he was essential to her new plan, Westergaard was not. She'd rather keep a useful enemy up close, not waste her time entertaining another one's medicancy.

That was it.

"Alright, I'll tell you something you don't know." Westergaard humored. "I want to make a deal."

That caught Hope speechless for a while.

"You see.. my family has removed me from the line on the throne, and I have quite a stained reputation. The thing is, I want to help you destroy Morellia." He offered, like a cheap little buisnessman he was in Hope's eyes.

She paid it no mind, for she was going to refuse his attempts either way.

"Starting off with their pretty little prince.." Westergaard trailed off, his voice stone cold as the thin ice he's now stepped on.

Hope tensed at the mention of the prince. To think that her tool for her answers was in great risk enabled something in Hope to turn around to face the tyrant with eyes that explained something unexplainable, on both parts.

"Prince Isaac?" Hope clarified, just to hear how his name rolled off just ridiculously right on her tongue. "Why would you want to go after him?"

"I figured I'd have to go after queen Ella's most treasured possession.. her son." He ran his fingers through his awful sideburns, which was a personal offense to the princess, for she never liked men flaunting their evil schemes. "And you've had history with him, which makes it more exciting."

If Hope had the same hatred for Isaac she had since the very beginning, she would've agreed on getting rid of him. But she had other plans including him, and not only was he queen Ella's most treasured posession, but also Hope's. He was her key, and using him to resolve conflict between their kingdoms before she becomes crowned as queen, would benefit her in all accounts, one of them getting her father's praise.

Isaac was vital to her mission, and she can't afford losing him.

Atleast not yet.

She would've agreed, but losing the prince meant queen Ella was going to find out, and where does her blame go? Calvania.

Hope knew it. Westergaard never wanted to help her avenge her father, but to ruin the Brennan's name once more. After all, never could he be trusted after the atrocities he committed.

Besides, if someone were to pursue prince Isaac, it would be her.

"No."

Wetergaard turned his head in confusion. "Pardon?"

"I said no." Hope clarified, more for his little manly brain to comprehend. "Or do I have to spell it out for your male knowledge capacity to understand?"

"You're making a mistake." Westergaard glared.

"I believe I am not." Hope responded. "I do love tormenting prince Isaac on my own. If he is to be eliminated, then it is by me."

Silence from Westergaard. Thankfully.

Hope walked closer to him, unsheathing her sword before pointing the tip of it towards his chin. "Now.." she taunted as she made her way to face him up close, with a sword on his throat like a rose's thorn longing to pierce his flesh. Her rage eminent on her features, even a man of his age swore he shuddered.

"You meddle with prince Isaac, you're going to have to witness insanity face-to-face.."

Westergaard laughed. "You care for prince Isaac? Your enemy?"

Hope ignored the question. "Leave."

He backed away, moving Hope's pointed sword aside. "Alright, I'll leave your little boyfriend alone."

Hope once again ignored him. "I stand by what I said, so don't mess with me."

He only chuckled, before walking away, leaving Hope alone with her sword.

A waste of time.

A waste of breath.

That's what he was.

"How do we manage to bump into each other?" A familiar voice she'd rather listen to rung out in the open.

Hope put her weapon down.

[sylphmacabre]

All Hallows Eve

Fandom: RISE OF THE GUARDIANS

'Verse - Six Guardians

Characters: Jack Frost, Pitch Black

Pairing: Blackice

Rating: Teen

Summary: You wouldn't think costumes with a theme would be Pitch Black's thing... at least, not in public.

Originally posted on Archive Of Our Own on October 31, 2015.

__________________

Jack would never cease to be astounded by the mercuriality of Pitch's moods, no matter how many years passed since the first time pale blue-veined limbs entwined with grey-skinned ones, no matter how often citrine eyes looked into sapphire ones and did not look away.

He'd learned quickly enough when to joke with his bedmate, and when to remain silent, when to be supportive of Pitch's melancholy and when to distract him from it.

But Jack never expected Pitch to be the one to suggest a night out on the town... a night spent in company... a night NOT spent brooding on his obsidian throne or cavorting between black satin sheets.

Not Mister "I am the Boogeyman and you will not have fun in my presence unless I'm sticking my tongue down your throat". Not Mister "oh I miss the Dark Ages when people actually fainted when they saw a plague doctor mask".

And certainly not "a night out" on Hallowe'en itself, a working holiday for the King of Nightmares, a duty Pitch took very, very, VERY seriously and defended to his fellow Guardians.

Thus, when Pitch casually worked into conversation the phrase "I thought we could drop in at Sanderson's little soiree in coordinated costumes this year", Jack was thoroughly flummoxed.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm-okay?"

Pitch's clever hands kept kneading Jack's shoulders, claws retracted for a change. "And since the little creampuff likes marine life so much, why don't we indulge him?"

Jack turned over and looked the Nightmare King in the eye. "Seriously? You actually want to be seen in public with me outside of Guardian meetings?"

Thin grey lips quirked and revealed a hint of fangs. "I would have thought by now that you'd relish a chance to mix fun and fear. What goes better than All Hallows Eve and showing off that mix?"

Further conversation halted when Pitch simultaneously unsheathed his claws and trailed his tongue over Jack's collarbone.

A week later, Jack swooped into Pitch's lair to collect him for their trip to the Island of Sleepy Sands. He'd crafted his ice to coat his body in a brilliant blue shade and lengthened the ice into a long tail, so that he now resembled an electric eel.

He couldn't help but yelp and leap backward as something that was all teeth and uncanny swiftness emerged from the darkness and lunged towards him.

A throaty chortle from the Nightmare King calmed Jack enough that he could catch his breath and sputter out, "When... will I learn... that you're always going to pick the... creepiest... FREAKIEST... way of saying hello?"

Pitch proudly waggled the sinuous shadows emerging from his rump that finished off his lamprey look. Jack did not even want to TRY to guess how Pitch had reshaped his own head so that his eyes were now on either side of his skull; he was too disconcerted by the ever-open mouth ringed by triple rows of teeth that Pitch was now sporting.

"Okay, now that you've scared a century off my immortal span, can we get going to the party?" the Guardian of Fun asked the Guardian of Caution. He was surprised to see a hesitance come over Pitch, and wondered about its cause.

Pitch fidgeted before replying, "I actually have two costumes planned for the evening. This one is just for show... can't have the rabbit or the fat man gloating that I've gone soft in the head over you, after all." He cleared his throat and continued, "But I came up with the idea of another costume, just for you. A private viewing, maybe for later?"

The Nightmare King made some kind of motion that Jack did not immediately catch, but the result was striking. The essential eel-ness of Pitch's body did not change, but his colouring faded to an icy white, nearly as blinding as Jack's normal skin tone, mottled with deep-space-black markings that looked like... snowflakes.

Jack could only stare. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "Now THAT'S a moray!" and was rewarded with a full-throated laugh from Pitch.

They arrived at Sandy's party hours later than expected, with Pitch's lamprey teeth back in full evidence, but the self-satisfied looks they kept throwing one another gave the game away to their fellow Guardians.

[loosesodamarble]

The Future Silva Family Part 4

I now present to you the final group of next gen ocs belonging to House Silva. These are the children of Asta and Noelle Silva: Aimee, Naru, and Filomina.

……….

Aimee Silva

Her name comes from the French word “aimé” meaning “beloved.” The pronunciation is twisted a little to be “eye-mee” to include the Japanese word for “love,” that being “ai/愛.” It's an ode to Asta's time in Hino.

Age: 11

Birthday: October 6

Magic Attribute: N/A. Uses anti-magic.

Appearance: Aimee has pure silver hair just like her mother Noelle. She decides to grow it out because her mom's hair looks pretty long but she chooses not to style it up. She likes the freedom of loose hair. Her eyes are green just like her father's.

Personality: Aimee is a friendly, optimistic, and honest girl. Noelle and Asta have inspired her greatly. Aimee greets everyone with a smile and she also throws in a hug for people she really likes, such as Yami and Nero. Aimee is the type of person who can easily see the strengths of others and praise them for those abilities. She knows she’s at a disadvantage without magic but she believes she’ll find the strength to overcome challenges. Her parents did it and so can she. Aimee on the adventurous side too, so when she first visited Elysia and met Elfrieda, they immediately clicked. Aimee’s biggest flaw is that’s she’s ditsy, not knowing when honesty becomes bluntness and she can be overly casual with the wrong people.

She's close friends with Elfrieda and Jesse. Aimee and her cousin Eirlys are surprisingly close despite their very different personalities. Ann is someone Aimee looks up to for her strength and courage. She's friendly with Miku (@lyranova's oc) and is acquainted with Eleonora (@thoughtfullyrainynightmare's oc).

Aimee faces a lot of judgement from the more stuck up members of noble society. She’s the first person born into Clover royalty to lack any magic whatsoever. Noelle faced criticism for her poor control but at least she has magic. Nobles with an especially strong distaste for the lower classes blame Asta for creating a “defective” royal and think poorly of Aimee. Her older cousins were protective of her early on but eased up on her as Aimee showed that she didn’t need coddling.

When she was 9, Asta and Liebe gave Aimee a dagger infused with anti-magic so she could start learning to fight. Noelle was a little concerned by this but eventually went along with it. Noelle made Aimee promise a thousand times not to take the dagger in public however.

Aimee becomes a Magic Knight in the future, belonging to the Blue Rose Knights.

Naru Silva

Naru’s name is is an alternative reading for the character 愛 meaning “love.” Again, he was named in honor of Asta's time spent in Hino.

Age: 9

Birthday: February 19

Magic Attribute: Water.

Appearance: Naru's hair is a shade of grey between his mother's silver and his father's ash blond shades, it doesn't have the same metallic shine as Noelle or Aimee's hair. In his youth, his hair naturally spiked like Asta's but it flattened out as he grew up, to his disappointment. His eyes are a deep, ocean blue.

Personality: Naru has a natural talent with magic, which Noelle is quite relieved by. Naru is definitely closer to Noelle than Asta because of their shared magic. But Naru gets his wild energy from Asta and the father-son duo often go out camping or other adventures. He's also the curious kind of kid. He loves trying new things with his magic and is honestly bummed out by the fact that he doesn't have his grimoire yet because it means there's more he could do. Naru is also prone to asking a lot of questions. "Hey why do people wait until 15 to get their grimoires?" "Where did Lord Vangeance get his funny mask?" And he tends to just keep asking questions until he can't think of anything new to ask. Naru likes to play around too, usually re-enacting the stories he hears from books or his parents' youth. Can be prideful in his skill and reckless when trying new things. It keeps his rivalry with Ferro strong as Ferro challenges Naru and Naru wants to prove he's still getting stronger.

Naru's closest friends are Alfred and Jesse. He'd form a friendly rivalry with Kito (@lyranova's oc) and a less friendly rivalry with Ferro.

Despite using Water Magic, Naru sinks like a rock in water. He is a terrible swimmer and nothing except magic will change that. He's tried swimming lessons but he just can't do it.

Frequently trains with his cousin Aecor because they share an attribute.

Naru eventually joins the Black Bulls once he's old enough for the Knights.

Filomina Silva

Filomina’s name comes from Greek. It can either mean “friend of strength” or “beloved one.”

Age: 7

Birthday: July 13

Magic Attribute: Ice.

Appearance: Filomina has ash blond hair just like her father though it has the softer, silkier texture of her mother's hair. From a young age, she takes to wearing her hair in pigtails though she wears them higher than Noelle did in her youth. Her eyes are (supposed to be, darn you picrew) a pinkish-purple hue, leaning closer to her mother's eye color.

Personality: Filomina is as sweet and cheerful as a child can be, and she loved everyone in her family. She's excited to see what the world has to offer each day. She's highly energetic but surprisingly polite. She won't barge into a room but she will probably dent a door with her knocking. She doesn't say "please" and "thanks" but shouts those words from across a hallway. Hardly a mean bone in her body, save for the moments when she tugs on someone's clothes or hair to grab their attention. Her thought process is that people love her so it doesn't make sense for her to not love people in return. She's surprisingly empathetic towards others, she can often tell with a glance if a person is troubled and whether or not it'd be a good idea to approach them. Asta hasn't taught her ki reading and chalks it up to Filomina being naturally in tune with people. Very clingy to anyone willing to give her attention even for a moment (she is still very young after all).

Filomina is pretty much the favorite of everyone in House Silva. Her parents and siblings dote on her so much. Her aunts and uncles are unable to resist when she asks something from them. Her cousin Ferro proudly said he'd be her teacher since they have the same attribute. Even Skylar would tone down his chaos and Chalivas would stop being such a stick in the mud when spending time with Filomina.

Filomina is would be very close to Kya (@lyranova's oc). She's basically considers everyone she's met her friend too. She's fond of creative people like Cynthia and Dawn's kindness is also a big inspiration to her.

Filomina (and her siblings) has met Kahono and Kiato. The two of them actually inspired Filomina's dream to become an idol. Once a year, Filomina spends a whole week with Kahono in Raquey to have singing lessons and generally learn how to be an idol.

Filomina once turned down a marriage proposal from Alfred. She told him that it's against to law to marry your best friend's sibling and since Alfred doesn't know laws well, he bought it.