#I’m so tempted to phone the restaurant my brother used to work at and ask for Sunday work

[you-expect-too-much]

.

I think I need a Sunday job, I hate how lonely Sundays make me feel

[random-imagines-blog]

Voices {Diana Prince x Fem!Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2343 Summary: Jealousy is hard to tame, even in an Amazonian Princess. Warnings: Smut.

Diana had never been the jealous type. That was until had come along and joined the Justice League, the only other female in this male-dominated group. You weren’t quite as powerful as Diana, but you contributed a lot to the team, and knew how to handle yourself in a fight. Your powers of creating a force field had saved the ass of each one of these lunatics at least once. Even Superman had owed you a debt of gratitude for your powers, all of which you took with a grin. But out of all of them, the one that you seemed to be the closest with was Bruce - and that is where Diana’s jealousy came in.

You, like Bruce, were also from Gotham, so there had been that instant connection there. You would often talk about restaurants, about high school, about people and if there was any overlaps in where you used to hang out. It turns out you used to frequent some of the same places, despite being from totally different backgrounds. You two could often be seen talking and laughing around the coffee machine, or going out to dinner - which made the tabloids go wild. The rest of the league knew that you two were just friends but Diana had always suspected something.

She had originally thought that she would be the one that you would bond with, given that you were a woman. And yes, you two were friendly enough but it wasn’t quite what she had pictured. You would catch eyes in the hallway and nod at one another, and you worked well out in the battlefields of the world. When she saw you with Bruce, your voice would flow through her head like music, while Bruce’s was grating, like nails on a chalkboard. It affected her relationship with Bruce, which had once been friendly but now, being around him just felt like the annoying co-worker.

You and Bruce came into the Batcave from going out to dinner, and you were talking about the couple who had been sitting next to you. “I think it’s romantic,” You were saying about them.

“I think it’s convenient,” Bruce was shrugging off his jacket. “I know a thing or two about gold-diggers, y/n, and that man was one of them.”

“Sometimes, Bruce, I think you see the world in too dark a light,” You said, finally noticing that the others were gathered around, with only Diana and Barry eavesdropping. Cyborg was hooked into a supercomputer, and Clark was in his ordinary Clark attire, looking at his phone. “Oh, was there a meeting?”

“No, I was just bored,” Barry said. There was a flash of yellow, and he was standing right beside you, offering you a bag of chips. “Hungry?”

“Just ate, but thank you. I don’t think I could take another bite,” You protested. Bruce did the same with an elegant gesture of his hand, and you went your separate ways. Bruce went to hang up his jacket while you strode over to see what Clark was doing. Diana was sitting alone at the table now, watching the way that your dress moved about your body. She admired it on you. It was white and gold, and reminded her of home, though this was much more formal than functional. The sleeves draped over your shoulder, exposing the soft flesh of your collar and arms. As you bent over to peek at his phone and see who he was texting, she caught the curve of your breast, and looked away quickly, face glowing red in shame.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to look. But rather, she wanted you to be the one to show her, of your own free will. She wanted you to ask her to unzip the dress and watch as you stepped out of it, completely bare. These thoughts clouded her mind to the point where she didn’t notice that Barry had slipped into the chair beside her and was staring at her, grinning.

“You’re so obviously in love, just go ask her out!” He said, a little loudly. Diana shushed him quickly, and darted her eyes back to see if you had noticed. But you were teasing Clark about his girlfriend, Lois at this point and didn’t seem to have overheard.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Diana said, turning back towards Barry. “Isn’t there some marathon that you should be running?”

“Ouch, you get mean when you’re jealous.”

“I am not jealous,” Diana said, though she knew that it was a lie. Jealousy was a snake that was making it’s way through her nerves, and if she didn’t do something about it soon, she was afraid she was going to burst. The toxicity was unscrewing itself.

She stood up and made her way to the bathrooms. There were two, side by side, neither of them labeled as male or female because it seemed stupid. Just pick a bathroom and use it. She went inside and ran some cold water over her hands and patted at her flawless face. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw the red coming across her cheeks. She saw that glint in her eye that she didn’t like. Though alone, with the only sound being the pipes, she thought she could hear your voice. Laughing. Then Bruce. Probably saying something witty. Oh, I’m Bruce Wayne, I’m rich. I’m Batman.

She splashed herself again, trying to get control over these negative emotions. She dried her face with some paper towel and went to step out, planning on leaving the Bat Cave since she wasn’t needed here, but when she opened the door - you were standing there. You looked startled by the door opening, but your open mouth turned into a frown. “Are you okay?”

You pushed your way into the well lit bathroom with her, and closed the door behind you. Your hand then went to her forehead, reaching up because the Amazonian woman was so tall, and tried to feel for a fever. “Do I look sick to you?” Diana asked, raising an eyebrow, but let you touch her skin, her face. It brought that heat back but it was a different kind.

“Well, your cheeks look a little flushed, and you have been more quiet than usual,” You said, stepping back with a frown. “But you don’t have a fever, so hurray for small miracles.”

“Good,” Diana said with a nod. “But I could have told you that I’m not sick. I don’t get sick.”

“Of course, your immune system is probably as crazy powerful as you are,” You chuckled. “Is there something else wrong then? I mean, you look amazing as usual but there’s something up with you. If you wanted to talk about it, you know I’m here, right?”

You were just so nice, it was hard for Diana to really comprehend it. She only wished that you were this nice to her, and not to everyone else, as cruel as that seemed. In what was at first meant to be a reassuring motion, she put her hands on your arms and rubbed up and down, and then up, past the thin off-the shoulder sleeves, to your shoulders. Once she had started, she found it hard to stop.

“You’re here, and that’s part of the problem,” She admitted. You tilted your head in confusion, exposing more of that beautiful neck that so tempted her. The way that she was looking at you - with eyes ablaze - it was a wonder you weren’t running off. “I have to ask you a question, and it may sound a little strange.”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Do you have feelings of any sort for Bruce?”

“Oh, gross, no,” You said, shaking your head. Her hands were still on your shoulders, keeping you grounded. “He’s like a brother, especially since we grew up in a lot of the same places. Why do you ask?”

“You two seem very close... very close.” Her hands went up your neck, caressing the soft and exposed skin until she reached your jaw. Your breath hitched in your throat, she could feel it. But you didn’t become meek or shy. Instead, you surprised her.

“Hmm... are you jealous, Diana?” You asked. You didn’t attempt to push her off, or get her to move. In fact, the reason why you had been going towards the bathroom in the first place was easily forgotten. Diana was caught of guard by your direct question, and responded to it with a nod rather than verbalizing. A smile went across your lips - closed lipped, tantalizing. “Then my plan has been working.”

You were the one that initiated the first kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck, bringing her in. She was in her full gear in case something had come up, and her metal breastplate rubbed roughly against the soft fabric of your dress. It was a good feeling though. It was a bit cold - and it permeated through the dress until you could feel it on your nipples, making them grow hard. In contrast, Diana was now feeling the soft, the flowing feeling against her elbows as her arms bent when she came closer. Lips smashed against lips, and that jealousy melted away.

You were the first one to pull away, take a step back and looked over that outfit of hers. The infamous Wonder Woman outfit. Turned into cheap costumes the  world round. “How do you take that thing off?” You asked. Surprising her again.

“Are you asking me to take it off, or are you curious?” Diana asked, pushing her hair out of the way, behind her neck, so that she could get back at yours with kisses.

“Both,” You said, leaning your head back so that she had more skin to get at. Diana grinned into these kisses, and showed you exactly how the form fitting top came off.

Diana felt very comfortable in her skin, and was fine with showing it off - to you. There were plenty of perverts out there who wanted to see this view, but it was only for you. Her chest was heaving with excitement, the pink that had been on her cheeks blushed her tan body. The skirt had come off as well, it being a one piece, and now she was standing there in only her underwear. For you.

You brought her back in for another kiss, this time with no hard breast plate in the middle. Diana’s hands deftly made their way to the back of your dress, and found the zipper. You moaned in encouragement, and gently - so as not to ruin the dress - she pulled it down until it reached your lower back. You shrugged your way out of it, pulling your arms out of the sleeves and let it fall onto the bathroom floor. At least Alfred kept this place spic and span himself. These floors had only been mopped that very morning.

Diana kept the kisses raining down upon you, your neck, your shoulders, your breasts once they were exposed. It was just the two of you in your underwear now, pressed against one another but it never felt close enough. Lifting you with ease, Diana swept you off of your feet and put you up onto the sink. You leaned back against the mirror, surprised at how quick all of this was going on. Both of you were. But neither of you were putting a stop to it. This was what she had been thinking about doing. Taking you from Bruce’s side and showing you how she really felt. This, this was a dream come true.

She kissed her way up one of your thighs, right along the inner skin, got to your underwear and started to pull it off slowly, leading it with kisses among the other thigh, to the calf, the to your pretty feet, bound in heels. Those, she would leave on. Just like she would her own thigh-high boots. “You’re very beautiful, y/n,” Diana said, getting a real good look at you.

“So are you, Princess,” You said with a smile, watching with eyes full of adoration. She existed for your compliments, and made her way hungrily between your legs. She was soft, just like those plump lips of hers, and she was gentle. She was also quite slow, which made you want her all the more. Her tongue was wet and warm and seemed to know exactly where to go to bring out the little whimpers in you. Your hands went to your own breasts, squeezing them. You pulled at your own nipples, making a display of it as Diana watched. Her dark eyes stayed focus up on you as her mouth worked.

As you began to reach your climax, miscellaneous things in the bathroom started to rumble. The garbage can for one, began to shake. The paper towel roll became entirely undone. The soap started to squirt out on its own. The lights flickered on and off as that force-field of yours affected the electricity around you. When you did finally reach it, your legs tightened around Diana, trapping her there as you thrust your hips up and down against her face, mewling with satisfaction.

The afterglow must have been amazing, for you grew a lot more loose and limber afterwards. Once you let Diana out of your grip, she joined you, hopping up onto the counter and put her arms around you, bringing you in for more kisses. These ones were more so lazy, just little pecks, as you started to recover from that rush of emotions. “What about you?” You asked, looking her over with a grin on her face.

“In time,” Diana smirked. “We have all of that in the world.”

[tact-and-impulse]

Suspension Bridge Effect

Now that some real life stuff’s out of the way, I’m dropping this Liar Game fanfic! Literally, this has been in my WIPs since the manga ended, but I finally got a grip on this post-canon short fic. It just took me like 5 more rereads, and until recently, I never knew that Akiyama and Nao hugged in the last tankobon. Dudes. Also, I’ve been ranting about the narrative glory of Liar Game to anyone who even mentions Squid Game to me. Here’s hoping for an English license or an anime, so we can at least get that hug scene translated. AO3 link

part i: autumn

It’s become a habit, to check his phone during his lunch break. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and watches the screen light up.

I got invited to lunch on Saturday, and I said yes. I’ve just found out it’s a mixer… Nao’s message trails off with uncertainty.

His first instinct is to tell her to go. She’s in college, she should enjoy herself, and after the end of a long ordeal of gambling and manipulation, she deserves to. His next thought is of Nao, sitting among faceless boys who keep refilling her glass, and it’s accompanied by a sour feeling.

“Hey, Akiyama!” One of his coworkers takes a seat beside him and slaps his back. “Is that your girlfriend?”

He manages a neutral audible response. In the beginning, he protested that she certainly was not, but that only egged on the rest of the laborers. As the rounds continued and the stress accumulated, he no longer had the energy to deny it. Besides, it was convenient, just in case she ran into trouble and he had to leave on short notice. It would be easy to pretend there was a breakup, once Nao inevitably ceased texting. But she hadn’t so far, and now, he was beginning to feel a little guilty that he was still continuing the façade. And that he didn’t hate the thought of her as his girlfriend.

“Can’t you introduce her to us sometime?”

“Not a chance.” He monotonously replies as he texts back, knowing she won’t interpret it harshly. You can decide what you want.

He continues to glance at his phone afterwards, but she never tells him whether she goes or not.

***

It’s basic psychology. Adrenaline, mistaken for attraction, and the Liar Game had provided plenty of adrenaline. It’s not like he can pretend he was unscathed. 

Or that he was the only one. Since the first revival round, Nao’s been a topic of interest, especially among the predominantly male players. Of course, intending to rescue them all from lifelong debt would endear her to anyone with a heart. But she was also young and one of the only women in the Liar Game. The idle chatter hadn’t escaped Akiyama’s ears, and he always itched for a cigarette when someone expressed wanting to ask her out. Nobody ever worked up the courage, which was perfectly fine, because none of them were good enough for her anyway.

He’s been tempted to ask if she returns anyone’s interest, to play it off as the protective instinct of an older brother or a guardian. But he’s known for a while now, that his feelings fall in a different category. From the day he left prison, Nao’s illuminated his life, with her genuine nature. Honest to a fault, but stubborn too. Her clumsy yet heartfelt words, her gaze becoming clearer every time they meet. It’s been two months since they last did, with the end of the final round. He’ll give it another season, at least. Maybe, that’ll be enough for her to move on, to embrace the bright future ahead of her. Mixers included.

***

He works on the weekends for extra pay. A call comes in, and he’s assigned to fix a malfunctioning light fixture. He enters the restaurant with his bag, and the owner directs him to the site of the issue. He keeps walking, even when his eyes catch on a brilliant red dress and its wearer.

Nao is sitting at the end of one table occupied by a group of university students. They chatter amongst themselves, but she isn’t engaged, stirring her drink and looking thoughtful. She happens to glance in his direction and her eyes widen. Her lips part and she leans forward, suddenly alert.

“And I’ll get the ladder for you. Thank you in advance.” The owner is saying, and Akiyama remembers to acknowledge him.

“Yeah, sure.” In the seconds that follow, he stares at the light, as if he could figure out what went wrong from here. Then, the ladder is set up for him and he climbs. He busies his mind with fixing the damn thing, training his eyes on the various wires.

And that’s when he fumbles, dropping his pliers. Luckily, it doesn’t break, but it hits the floor with a loud clatter. Before he can take a step down, Nao’s reached it first, kneeling to pick it up. Was she that close? Or, as the weakest part of him suggests, was she waiting for such an opportunity?

She lifts the pliers, her gaze warm. “Akiyama-san, here you go.”

They talked over the phone during the video release. However, it’s completely different to hear her in person again. He really has missed her.

“Thanks.” He murmurs. He could be careful about how he takes the tool back, but it’s not the first time they’ve touched, and if his fingers brush the inside of her wrist, he doesn’t mind. At all.

He focuses on the job, though he can tell that Nao is still at the base of the ladder. Distantly, he hears her friends calling out, coaxing her to return to the table. She waves them off, and they chalk it up to her altruistic spirit, lending her help to the obviously clumsy repairman. He should encourage her to go back to them. Instead, he keeps quiet, and he avoids looking down until the light is working properly.

When the last screw is in place and he turns his head, Nao is offering her hand with a grin. Inexplicably, he feels embarrassed. As if he didn’t embrace her in front of everybody when the final round was over.

Slowly, he descends, one step at a time. Once she’s in reach, he touches his palm to hers. Her skin is soft, and her pulse is accelerated. She doesn’t break eye contact, a nervous giggle escaping her when he’s finally back on the floor.

“Is something funny?” He asks.

“It’s just that I’ve never seen you at work before. It’s different.” Her smile is sweet. They’re still holding hands.

Then, the restaurant owner approaches with the envelope of his bonus. It seems that’s his cue to go, and Nao’s party is preparing to head out. As her friends look towards them, he releases her fingers and disappears into the background, finding the closest exit. He walks down a side street, a detour since he has to wait for the next bus. The weather is temperate, and piles of dead brown leaves are strewn about.

Meeting her was an utter coincidence, but…if she’d texted where she would be today, would he have accepted the job?

“Akiyama-san!” 

That’s the only warning, before she runs straight into him. It’s ironically like how they first met. This time, they don’t fall to the ground, but they awkwardly spin, like a precarious dance. His hands are on her waist and shoulder to steady her, as she tightly grips his shirt. For a second, he stares down into her large dark eyes.

“You ran in those heels?”

“I wanted to catch up to you.” She’s out of breath, and he guides her to the adjacent brick wall. They lean against the cool surface, a comfortable silence falling over them.

He speaks first. “What about the mixer?”

“It’s fine, I said I was leaving early. It wasn’t going well for me, anyway.” 

“Hm.” It’s their loss. He’s very pleased.

“I’d rather spend time with you. We really haven’t, not since the final round. It ended late, and not much happened after you…” She mumbles.

“Huh? I did what?” He can’t resist teasing her.

“Y-you hugged me.” Her face is bright red, and she looks endearingly cute. “And I can’t forget it.”

I can’t either. The words are on the tip of his tongue, and he bites them back. That moment’s haunted him. Why did he do that? Wasn’t it because he was happy that they’d won and he was immensely proud of her? Hadn’t he sworn to make sure she’d live in peace? And why couldn’t he stop himself from craving more of her touch, her scent, her everything?

He averts his gaze, unable to directly look at her, not with this tangle of emotions. “...Have you heard of the suspension bridge effect?”

“Oh, yes. I learned about it from my psychology class, earlier this semester. The response to fear is interpreted as arousal, in a dangerous situation.”

“That’s right.”

“Why are you bringing it up?”

He scratches the back of his neck, speaking without inflection. “That was a possibility for why.”

To his shock, Nao laughs. “Akiyama-san, you really don’t know anything about women’s feelings!”

“You’ve said that before.” He grumbles. The Liar Game rarely caused her to laugh, and so, he can’t be blamed if he watches her closely, to commit her expression to memory.

“Yes, and you haven’t changed in that aspect!” She plants her hands on her hips. “If it truly is the suspension bridge effect, it doesn’t matter to me. That doesn’t make it less real. Also…I wouldn’t be upset if you’re attracted to me.” Her breath catches, as her voice falters again. “I’d actually really like that…”

“Nao.” Her name aches in his throat. “Are you sure of what you’re asking?” He knows, but he has to hear it from her.

She nods. “I think a lot about you, and I thought about that moment over and over. You wouldn’t have hugged me, if you really did believe it was the suspension bridge effect. I can tell you’re conflicted, that you think I deserve better. And like always, you’re trying to protect me, that associating with an ex-convict will affect my future.”

“Well, I am-”

“I don’t think what you did was bad. You took down that corporation because you loved your mother, there’s nothing wrong about that.” She’s misty-eyed now, her voice trembling. “You helped me, when nobody else would, and even though the Liar Game was so scary, you helped other people too. I don’t want to be like strangers. I know you’re good and kind and warm. I want to protect you too, to continue working together with you. Akiyama-san…don’t disappear from me.”

He knows better than anyone else, how incredible she is at moving people’s hearts. And she’s done it to him, from day one. He draws her in, tucking her head under his chin. Her gasp tickles his neck, as he hushes her. “Don’t cry. I really don’t like seeing you cry.”

“You’re the reason this time.” Her accusation is a warble, but he can tell she’s already recovering. Her tears never last for long.

“Yeah, sorry.” He pauses. “I can’t erase my crimes, and even if I could wipe the slate clean, I don’t know if I’d take that opportunity. But I’d like to find a job that suits me better, work my way up some more. You also have your studies.”

“I understand. I just want to learn more about you, outside of what we went through these past few months.”

“That sounds good to me.” And he smiles at her. He wipes away a stray tear with his thumb, one little selfish act. “You can pick the time and place. I’ll be there.”

“Okay.”

“After your midterms.”

Her jaw drops. “How’d you know when they are?”

“I have my ways.” He smirks at her incredulous expression and grabs her hand. “Come on, I’ll make sure you get home safely.”

Without letting go, she strides ahead of him. “There’s a park across from my place. We can stop there on the way back. It’s such a nice day, it’ll be fun!”

A crisp wind blows past, ruffling her hair and dress. Yellow gingko leaves float down, decorating the path ahead. Someday, when she graduates and if he finds a steady line of work he tolerates, they can have a deeper conversation about what’s next. For now, he’s content to reunite with her. He clasps her hand tighter and follows her lead.

[youbloodymadgenius]

Home (Modern!Ivar x reader)

A/N: This is my entry for @maggiescarborough​‘s 400 Followers Challenge. Congrats again, love 🌺

This is another silly, fluffy thing. It’s probably boring, sorry 😔

Since Ivar is undoubtedly a Scorpio, this story takes place in November 😉

The prompt: surprising the character on their birthday.

@geekandbooknerd​, thanks for beta reading this for me ♥️ And @inforapound​, thanks for helping me out ♥️

Thanks to google translate too 😉 jeg er allerede begyndt at lære dansk: I've already started to learn Danish.

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

Summary: On his birthday, Ivar is in a very bad mood. The only present he wants is you, but there is an ocean between you two.

Warnings: Ivar’s bad temper (is that ever a warning??); soft, soft Ivar; fluff+++.

Words: 3209

When his phone rings, Ivar's first thought is to throw it across the room. Looking down, he then sees the name on the screen and closes his eyes. Snippets of his days run through his mind: how he had snapped at Ubbe – I don't give a shit about what you're saying, brother; how his outburst had brought to tears his new personal assistant – if you don't even know how to make a fucking coffee, I should probably fire you; how Harald, his longtime business partner, had hung up on him, angering him even more – you may be smart, Ivar, but when you're such in a bad mood, you're worthless. I'll call you tomorrow.

 Ivar knows he needs to calm down. He's so pissed off – at everything – that his right quadriceps is constantly spasming, his thigh as hard as rock. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, he sighs loudly, pinches the bridge of his nose and eventually grabs his phone.

 "Mor?" He's sure his mother won't fail to notice the hint of sharpness in his voice. She won't acknowledge it, though, used to his temper.

 "Hello Darling." There's a tremendous amount of love packed in those two little words, yet it doesn't bring a smile on his stern face. "I just wanted to let you know that Sven is on his way. He left Kattegat forty minutes ago. He is going to take you home."

 Clenching his jaw, Ivar stops himself from telling his mother that Kattegat, for him, is no longer home. Not anymore. The truth is, he doesn't know where home is. Home isn't his luxurious loft in in the very center of Copenhagen either. Home should be where you are. But you're so far away…

Ivar clears his throat. "I still don't get it, Mor. Why should I go with your chauffeur? You do know I can drive, don't you?"

 "Oh, honey, of course I do. But we've been over this, remember? You had to work the whole day, on your birthday, and I just want you to relax. Traffic can be brutal this time of day. Just let Sven bring you home. Maybe take a nap in the backseat, or just allow your thoughts to wander. I want you to be rested tonight, sweetheart." His mother pauses for a few seconds, and when she speaks again, her words are careful, her tone almost hesitant – so unlike her, his heart softens a little. "You did pack a bag, didn't you?"

 Ivar can't help but roll his eyes and then settles his gaze on a brown leather duffel bag right next to his mahogany desk. He knows that whatever his mother might expect, he won't stay the night. And if she doesn't allow Sven

to drive him back to Copenhagen, he will just call a cab. He won't argue about it right now, though – everything in its own time.

 Letting out a small sigh, Ivar nods uselessly, a hand running through his hair. "Yes Mor, I did."

  Sven knows better than to talk to him and, in the backseat, as the car speeds down the highway, Ivar closes his eyes and tries to relax. Anger still coursing through his veins, it turns out it's a nearly impossible task. It seems as if everything has gone wrong since he woke up and he's therefore mad at the whole world. He's mad at all those stupid, infuriating people he had to interact with. He's mad at Sven for taking him to Kattegat. He's mad at his mother for inviting him for his birthday. He's mad at himself for accepting. He's even mad at you, for not being here; for not making the impossible possible. For leaving him alone. And no matter if deep down he knows how unfair it is to you; because of course, you'd be here if you could. But he can't help it. He's mad at you because he misses you, every day a little more, to the point where the ache in his heart is far worse than the pain in his legs.

 And today, he misses you like crazy. To the point where sadness floods his mind. To the point where anger takes control. Because today may be his birthday, but it's also the anniversary of your first kiss, first and foremost. And he wants you here, right next to him, for now and forever.

  Fourteen months ago, after yet another surgery, and because even if he knew all too well that he couldn't stay by himself while recovering, the mere thought of his mother's overprotective presence made him nauseous, he had flown – fled – to Canada, to Floki's. The old fool had welcomed him with open arms, turning one of the many guest rooms of his house into a high-tech physiotherapy space. That's where he met you. At first, you had been just his physical therapist, then his date, his girlfriend, and now you are his lover. And if he's back in Denmark for nine months now, you're still in Canada. He had thought he could handle a long-distance relationship. He couldn't have been more wrong. Your absence just kills him.

 As a boat whistle can be heard, Ivar slowly opens his eye and then looks around. Frowning, he scratches his head, confused and annoyed. Since the Lothbrok mansion is located on a hill overlooking Kattegat, there's never any reason to go by the seaside to get there. Never ever. "We're on the wrong road, Sven. Why are you going to the shore?" Ivar speaks in a demanding tone of voice that doesn't impress Sven one bit.

 The obedient chauffeur barely shrugs. "I'm just following orders, Sir. Your mother's orders."

 Now riled up, irked, Ivar snorts, his nostrils flaring. "My mother asked you to drive me here?" Without waiting for an answer, he takes his phone out of his back pocket, gasping as Sven comes to a halt in front of The Nimb Hotel, the hotel palace of Kattegat.

 When his mother doesn't pick up the phone, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, he tries to get ahold of Hvitserk, Ubbe, and even Sigurd, but to no avail. Fuming, his hands curling into fists, Ivar clenches his teeth. Did his mother organize a fucking birthday party even though she knows he hates that? She wouldn't dare. No, she wouldn't.

 Oh, fuck. Sure, she would. She totally would. And it'd explain why she had been so adamant about having Sven drive him. She wanted him here, in this fucking hotel, and not at the mansion. It explains why his brothers don’t answer the phone. Because they know that if they did, he would yell at them to fuck off. He can’t believe it!! What’s got into his mother?? What the fucking hell??!!!!

 For a split second, he hovers a trembling pointer finger over the screen of his phone. Calling an Uber and going back to Copenhagen would be so easy. But as tempting as it may be to just run away, he knows he won't do it. He can't. Because it'd hurt his beloved mother, and the thought is unbearable, even though he's angry with her right now. That's why, whatever she may have planned, he'll deal with it, putting on a brave face for her sake.

 And that's why he doesn't object when Sven opens his door, "This way, Sir," his hand gesturing toward the hotel entrance, flanked by two ostentatious marble columns. Ivar uses his hands to place his right leg out of the car and he then slowly stands up, one hand on his crutch and the other on the car door, before following the gray-haired chauffeur, a permanent scowl on his face.

As they walk through the lobby, he is surprised when Sven leads him onto an elevator, pressing the twelfth-floor button. He would have thought that his mother would have privatized the hotel restaurant. But the restaurant is on the main floor. What's on the upper floors other than rooms? A roof terrace, probably. His mother would never throw an outdoor party in the middle of November though. Nothing makes sense.

 Confused, Ivar tilts his head while the lift is going up. "Where are we going?" Sven doesn't react to his harsh tone, just repeating his reply from earlier. "I'm following orders, Sir. I am walking you to where your mother ordered me to walk you." He doesn't utter another word, getting out of the elevator as soon as the door opens.

 Ivar tightens his grip on his crutch and follows him to what seems to be a hotel room. Or more specifically, and as it's written on the door, the executive suite. More and more bewildered, he watches Sven swiftly knocking on the door before using a card key to unlock it. Holding it open, the chauffeur steps aside, "I've been asked to tell you that the sunroom is over there," waving his hand slightly to the left, Sven then gives a slight nod to an astounded Ivar, "I now take my leave, Sir. I wish you a delightful evening."

  As Ivar slowly crosses the living room, the slight thud of his crutch on the hardwood floor alerts you of his presence. Shivering with excitement and your heart pounding in your chest, you struggle but don't move, don't say a word; not yet.

 Taking a tentative step into the sunroom, which, he's sure of it, offers during daytime a breathtaking view on the bay of Kattegat, a dumbfounded Ivar notices the candles first – there are candles everywhere, their soft glow creating an intimate ambience – and then the table for two elegantly set in the middle of the room.

 "What the fuck is going on?" Ivar grumbles, irritation obvious in his voice, and you know it's time for you to show up, or he may leave. Stepping toward him and into the light, you absently rub your sweaty palms up and down your black dress, your heart now beating so hard and so fast you wonder if he can hear it. This is it. The moment you were waiting for, for weeks now. You couldn't be happier, and yet you can't help but be nervous. Could he reject you? You don't think so but with Ivar, you never know… Swallowing the lump in your throat, and even if you can barely breathe, you manage to crack a smile at the exact moment he sets his eyes on you. "Happy birthday, my love, and happy anniversary too."

 Ivar's jaw drops, his eyes widen, and a soft gasp escapes his plump lips. He wobbles for an instant and you quickly close the gap between you and him, steadying him by placing both your hands on his hips. Your touch shaking him out of his stupor, he blinks a few times, his piercing blue eyes never leaving your face. "Y/N, is it… is it really you?" With a trembling voice and tears in his eyes, he stutters, dazed and surprised. "By the gods, what… what are you doing here?" His arm finding your waist, Ivar pulls you closer. There's a whirlwind of emotions on his face, but there's mostly love. You're sure he won't reject you.

 "Did you really think I was going to miss your birthday?" Standing on tiptoes, you give him a long kiss before whispering in his ear, "And I missed you so much, my love."

 Rough fingers caress your face as Ivar looks down at you incredulously. "But… I… I don't understand… I… I thought you were busy with work. But you're here… How?"

 "By plane, obviously," you quip playfully, and your lover rolls his eyes and shakes his head, before suddenly frowning. "That's really a wonderful surprise, Y/N, and I'd love to stay here with you but we… we should go… My mother… I think she's waiting for me, for us… You know, since it's my birthday, she wanted to throw…" Ivar stops talking when it dawns on him that he has been – to his delight – tricked, and you just smile. "Mother never planned a party, did she?"

 It's your turn to shake your head. "No, she never did, you're right. She knew I was coming and since I needed a little help, she agreed to play along. Tonight, it's just you and me, my love." Ivar's eyes sparkling with joy, your smile grows wider. "She's expecting us for lunch tomorrow, though."

 Nodding, Ivar flashes you a beaming smile that falters almost immediately as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. As he stifles a hiss of pain, you wrap his right arm around your shoulder and your left around his waist. Without a word, you lead him to a corner of the sunroom, help him to sit down on a huge nest chair and finally breathe a sigh of satisfaction as you snuggle into his side.

 His hand running up your arm, Ivar cups your face and looks at you fondly. "You being here with me is the best birthday gift ever." He then kisses you passionately, his hands roaming your back and your fingers threading through his long hair. When he breaks the kiss, he still holds you close and you lean into his warmth, your head resting on his chest.

 "When are you flying back?" Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, Ivar clenches his jaw as you pull away just enough to look at him. You know he hates the idea of you leaving him once again. You don't have time to answer him as he keeps going. "Guess you'll stay through the weekend, but when is your flight? On Monday morning?"

 A mischievous smile playing on your lips, you wrap your fingers around his hand. "There's no flight, Ivar, not anymore. I'm not going anywhere. I'm afraid you're stuck with me, my love."

 Swallowing, Ivar just stares at you for long seconds, a frown on his confused face. "What… What are you talking about? If this is a joke, it's a very bad one." He eventually manages to say, his bottom lip trembling.

 "I swear it's not a joke." You reassure him as you readjust your position, straddling him carefully. Your thumb stroking his cheek, you give him a quick peck before explaining yourself. " I hate our current situation, and I know you do too. I don't want to live like this anymore, between two flights, between two countries. I don't want to miss you anymore. My life is with you, my love. And since you can't exactly relocate the Lothbrok Company, it's up to me to move, which I'm happy to do."  

 Dumbstruck, Ivar remains speechless for a long time, but you can tell by the smile on his lips that he's thrilled by the news. Tilting his head, he finds his voice again. "You are serious? Wow! You do realize you'll have to find a new job, learn another language? That's not nothing."

 "Actually," you place your hands flat on his chest, "I've already found a job. Floki still has strong connections here, did you know that? On the same day I made up my mind, he was already making calls. He has been amazing, truly! I start working in a rehab clinic within a fortnight. As for the language…", you stop and inhale deeply before saying hesitantly, "jeg er allerede begyndt at lære dansk." Ivar's wry smile tells you that your pronunciation could have been better, but you don't mind. It's a first step. "Anyway," you exclaim, beaming, "You know me, I love a challenge!"

 "I just can't fucking believe it!" Ivar shines with happiness and it melts your heart. His next question, though, makes you wince internally. Because on that particular point, you're suddenly afraid you've put the cart before the horse.

 "Where are you going to live?"

 Lowering your gaze, you begin to fidget nervously. "I…", you clear your throat, closing your eyes, "I was thinking… well… Maybe I could… I don't know if…" As soon as you realize you're getting nowhere, you stop; you know you have to muster up the courage to be straightforward. Releasing a short sigh, you tilt your head up. "I was hoping we could live together. I mean if you want to. It's fine if you don't, I'll rent an apartment."

 Literally thunderstruck, his eyes fixed on you, Ivar swallows loudly. "You… You…" He stammers, an incredulous expression on his face. "You want to live with… with me?"

 As you nod while muttering under your breath "Only if you want to," a broad smile spreads over his lips and he blinks a few times. "Of course, I do. But you do know that", his sheepish look is unmistakable, "I'm not exactly easy to live with, right?"

 Relief floods through you and you burst out laughing as you remember what he put you through when you were his physical therapist. "I do know you, my stubborn, grumpy, short-tempered and moody lover! And guess what, my love? I wouldn't want you any other way. Plus, as I said, I love a good challenge!"

 Without even trying to hide his elation, Ivar throws his arms around your waist, giggling, "It's a deal, then," before peppering light kisses all over your face. His mouth barely an inch from yours, he's about to kiss you as your stomach rumbles. Embarrassed, you want to hide your face but Ivar, all smiles and laughing eyes, grasps your hands, squeezing them. "Guess we should feed you."

 Checking your watch, you stand up reluctantly. "Actually," you point at the table behind you, "we should be served a meal in less than five minutes." Reaching out, you grab Ivar's left hand as he hauls himself to his feet, handing him his crutch once you're sure he found his balance.

 Now towering over you, Ivar gives you a thank-you smile. "So, tell me Y/N, what's the plan for tonight? Besides dinner, I mean." The naughty grin adorning his features tells you the answer he's hoping for.

 "Well," you can't resist teasing him, "I was thinking maybe we could take an after-dinner walk on the shore afterwards, and later, there's this wonderful documentary about penguins I wouldn't want to miss, so yeah, that's the plan."

 "Ooooh, look at you!" You can't help but laugh your head off as Ivar's smile falters, a crease forming between his eyebrows and pouty lips shouting his displeasure. "I'm just kidding, my love," you soothe him, your thumb grazing his mouth, "there's this whirlpool-bath I'm dying to try in the bathroom if you're up for it. And after that, I'm going to make love to you, my birthday boy." Ivar's breath hitches as your hands squeeze his butt cheeks playfully. "And then we'll sleep. And tomorrow we'll go and have lunch with your mother. And when we're done there, you'll…" Overwhelmed with emotion, you stop, your eyes filling with tears.

 "I'll…?" Ivar asks as a crooked smile tugs at his lips.

 You swallow away the lump in your throat, intertwining your fingers with his. "You'll take me home, won't you?"

 There are tears in his eyes as well, but when Ivar nods, the smile that flashes over his face is a wide, shining one. "Yes, my love, I'll take you home."

 🛡⚔️🛡

@honestsycrets​ @lisinfleur​ @waiting4inspiration​ @saldelys​ @gearhead66​ @inforapound​ @readsalot73​ @milkkygirls​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @shannygoatgruff​ @zuxiezendler​ @a-mess-of-fandoms​ @hecohansen31​ @lonewolf471​ @ivarthebloodyking​ @fuckindiva​ @tgrrose​ @didiintheblog​ @peachyboneless​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​ @ethereallysimple​ @destynelseclipsa​ @coco2315​ @mlchael-guerin​ @pieces-by-me​ @xceafh​

[mysticprofessoralienhumanoid]

A Daminette Penpal AU - Continuation

Continuation  of this post

@ab-unreachablevoice @startouchedqueen1318 @lovemidnighteclipse12 you asked, I deliver.

Now, I want all of you to know this AU was made in a spur of moment. I’m totally winging it rn.

So obviously before the akuma class goes to Gotham, the months of texting have to have passed.

For Damian, those months are hell, because not only does he have to hear Jon’s gushing about his awesome penpal, but he has to endure Lila’s lies and her stories that keep only getting more ridiculous as the time passes too.

And it better be fucking worth it, because you have no idea how close he’s to flying to Paris and finally putting his assassin’s skills into use.

I mean, look at this!

Lila: HI Damian!!!! ❤💖💕💋💞

Damian, cringing at his phone: Yes?

Lila: How r u????

Damian, who absolutely hates when someone types like that: Have been better

Lila: Would u like to maybe video chat???? I could tell u about my trip to Achu !!!!!

Damian, a little shit™: Did “u” know that using more than three (3) exclamation (!) and question (?) marks means “u” may have a personality disorder? Maybe that’d explain the amount of lies “u” like to spew so much.

(Oof-)

[Message read. This user is offline.]

I’m convinced that if Damian knew how to use gifs, he would 100% use a lot, and I mean a lot, of cat gifs (honestly, animal gifs in general).

Lila: Hi Dami!!!! (She doesn’t learn, okay.)

Damian: I hope you can understand the message.

She can.

Lila: Hi dami. Can I call u Dami???

Damian: No.

Lila: I had so much fun this weekend Dami!!!! I went to Brazil Turns out Chris Pratt is filming a new movie there. Anyway, he recognized me and we started  talking. His so much fun!!!!!! 🥰🤩😍😍🎉🎉

Damian: Fascinating. Please do not  tell  me more.

Damian: And it’s “he’s���, not “his”.

Heh.

Lila: Hiii Damiii

Damian: I literally hate you so much-

[Message not sent]

Lila: Dami????

Lila: ....

Lila: Um, Damian? U there????

[Message not read]

You have no idea how, much fun making these is-

Oh, and imagine, just imagine, if Lila told him about situation in Paris.

Lila: Sorry for texting you so late, damiboo. Got caught up in an akuma attack.

Damian, who by now is replying just to humor her (plus his father forced him): A what?

And then Lila starts explaining the situation in Paris. Of course, she adds a few stories about how she was akumas’ target or how she helped Chat Noir (weirdly she doesn’t talk much about Ladybug). It’s that one of really rare times she’s not lying (well, not that much). And how Damian reacts to it?

Damian, Done with Lies™: Do you ever stop lying? Because this, all of this, is absolutely and utterly ridiculous.

Cue Lila wishing she didn’t bullshit as much as she did Damian was just a little more gullible

Anyway.

I don’t know if you remember, but in the first part I said Damian ditched Lila for Marinette (but let’s be honest, wouldn’t we all?).

To clear things up, I kinda wanted the GA students to accompany their penpals throughout their time at school. It’d be nice, right?

So the scene is:

The principal has just announced that GA students have to keep company their penpals while they’re at the GA establishment. Lila’s feeling victorious, this is her chance to get her claws in Damian and his money- I mean, to get to know her lovely penpal. Yeah...

Lila, walking up to Damian, while trying to appear sexy and shy at the same time, and failing at both: So, shall we?

Damian, ostentatiously glancing at her before going to Marinette: Bye

Now, to spice things up, I decided imma get them caught up in a rouge attack/attacked by a rouge.

So somewhere a week in their stay, akuma class is held hostage by one of the Gotham’s criminals.

Because this is Gotham, y’all. You can’t be in Gotham and NOT get attacked some way or another. It’s impossible.

[Choose your villain. I have badass Marinette though, so we all know the winner here]

The moment it starts, Damian slips away and changes into Robin.

Meanwhile:

The class is screaming and panicking.

Lila is probably in the middle of a panic attack.

Marinette’s assessing the situation before striking.

The moment Robin arrives, he gets to witness Marinette, the sweet cinnamon roll Marinette, kicking ass and taking names. Adorable. He thinks he’s in love (and he so is).

Bats come. And they’re met with the dude dealt with and trembling in fear of a petite girl with pigtails, who’s standing next to him and a lovestruck Robin staring at said girl.

A sight to behold, truly.

Also, what if Damian accidentally texts Lila instead of Marinette after the attack? And Lila is so happy, because she thinks her plan’s finally working. But ohoho, does Damian have surprise for her.

Damian: Are you sure you’re okay? The attack was really dangerous, You’re sure you’re fine?

Lila, thinking ‘yes, fucking finally. Almost thought you have no feelings’ : Oh, it was so scary !!!!!! 😱😰😨😨😨 [just hella lot of emojis. She seems like that kind to me] I was absolutely terrified!!!! I’m just glad that it’s all over. After the attack Robin came up to check up on me. He even flirted with me, i think he likes me... Too bad I already like someone else 😘😘😘😘😘😘

Lila: But don’t worry, dami!!!! I’m a little shaken up, but overall okay.  But if you want to we can facetime so you can make sure I’m not injured ;*

Damian, having to physically restrain himself fro throwing his phone against the wall: ...

Damian: Fuck.

Damian: Wrong number.

Lila: ಠ_ಠ

---------

And of course I’m involving Twitter. Who do you think I am?

At first it was one of of his siblings who posted a post about how he’s seething at his phone, probably his penpal texted him something again.

But do you seriously thing Damian would pass such an amazing opportunity?

Haha.

No.

He immediately posts his follow up and it goes downhill from here. He adds shit ton of tweets about her, making Lila famous (and she doesn’t even know she is).

People don’t know whom to pity more; Damian, for having a horrible and lying penpal, or said penpal, for having an enemy in the Ice Prince of Gotham?

The hashtags #IcePrince’sPenpal #PenpalNightmare #MenaceOfAPenpal are created and are trending every day.

Many say it’s the most active he’s ever been.

---------

Lila is not stupid in this, okay? A pathological liar and a manipulator, yes, but for that you need brain and she has one. Much to Damian’s surprise. And yeah, sometimes she lets her imagination get the best of her, but she’s cautious enough and has proof to often back her up. 

She knows she screwed up. Her penpal doesn’t believe her and isn’t scared to call her out.

Due to him bluntly uncovering her lies, some of the classmates see through the blinds she’d put on their eyes and get suspicious of her.

If you have mercy on them, make them come to Marinette and apologize.

...

Yeah, I’m not doing that.

The class sticks to Lila’s version of every story and they don’t believe Damian is THE Damian Wayne, even when a fricking limousine drives up to the school and a butler comes out of it.

---------

Random notes and ideas that don’t really have any sense or anything tbh, but I had them so there you go

About the attack, obviously the school has to inform the parents, right? But, if you're salty enough, you can, oh i don't know, make bustier and/or Damocles not inform them thus creating even more problems for them in the near future. (Yes, i hate bustier and damocles with passion, they’re enablers and Damocles is a gold digger tbh)

*

One day the french class is at a random restaurant (I’m honestly tempted to put them in Red Robin just for my own entertainment) when the Wayne brothers come in. They recognize them and Lila sees the opportunity, so she goes up to them.

Lila: Hiii Damiii!!!! [Yes, I know this is a real life conversation]

Damian, just done with her: Ugh, not you again.

Tim just kinda glances at her and decides she’s not worth his time.

Jason: What the fuck do you have on your head?

Dick: Oh, Damian, is this your crush or the penpal you despise so much?

Damian: The latter. And i do not have a crush

Lila, who totally stopped listening after she heard “crush”: That’s me!!!!

[Silence]

Damian: Marinette’s over there. Let’s go.

Lila:  ;_;

Yeah, it sucks to be Lila.

[I thought I posted this a month ago. I didn’t. What the hell]

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (4/?)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

Found on Ao3: Beginning | Current

Found on Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

-/-

Emma has this thing about the summer tourists in Martha’s Vineyard. There are several types, but they can be categorized into two main groups: the annuals versus the one-timers.

It’s pretty self-explanatory. The annuals come back every year. They usually have a family home on the island or in Cape Cod or Falmouth, and they come back year after year to do the same things – from taking out the same boats to eating at the same restaurants. Then there are the one-timers. They get an opportunity to come and spend a week or two taking pictures, eating food, spending time by the ocean, going on hikes, and then they never, ever come back. They’ve seen enough.

The annuals pay for Emma’s life. The one-timers, though, keep her entertained.

If she never has to see them again, there are no consequences, no attached strings. It’s the perfect distraction, especially in the past few years, and she will not be ashamed of the choices she makes.

Not at all.

Except, right now, she’s seriously questioning her choices because sometimes Emma can be pretty damn stupid.

But then Killian’s hand slips down the back of her thigh, fingertips pressing into her skin, kneading it in the places that bring her pleasure, and she forgets how stupid this is and remembers how good it feels. His voice is deep with his teasing, his mouth soft, and when he uses his knee to nudge hers to the side, Emma complies and arches her back as he slowly guides himself into her. Her heartbeat speeds up, sweat already forming at the nape of her neck that not even the breeze from the open window can fix, and she continues to adjust her hips as Killian finds his rhythm.

It’s a damn good rhythm, one that only takes a little instruction on her part, before he’s leaning over her, sucking the skin at her neck, and building her toward a higher and higher pleasure as he whispers filth into her skin.

And for the minutes that it takes, ones that seem to fly and drag on all at once, Emma forgets how monumentally stupid she’s being by sleeping with him. It was a moment of weakness, one where she was lonely and he was there with his stupidly handsome features and charming stories, and it seemed like the obvious thing to do.

Even though she really did simply intend to invite him in for coffee, but how many people truly believe that offer to be taken at face value?

Emma thinks he’s an obnoxious flirt, but at least it’s nice to know he can back his words up with actions.

Emma scratches her fingers down his back until she’s tightening them around the muscles in his arms. He’s fitter than she imagined, which is always a bonus, and his muscles twitch as he continues to move in her, over her, until his hand reaches between them and Emma finds the subtle bliss she doesn’t often find from arrangements like this.

So, she’s stupid, but at least she’s satisfied.

Killian hovers over her as his thrusts become more erratic, as he finds his own release, his forehead pressed into hers, and then he’s rolling over, taking a breather next to her, before getting up to dispose of the condom and put his briefs back on. Emma does the same, using the bathroom to pee and wash her face, before putting on a t-shirt and pair of underwear.

“So, that was,” Killian begins when she comes back from the bathroom. He’s sitting on the end of the bed, body still on near full display as he presses his hands back.

“You’re only staying here this summer, right?” Emma interrupts.

He raises one brow, then the next. “Aye. I don’t imagine I’ll return next year. My life should be…less complicated then.”

Okay, good. Maybe she’s not so stupid after all.

Because he may be friends with Ariel and Eric, which isn’t the clean break she’s looking for, but it’s clean enough.

She wonders how his life could be complicated. She doesn’t know much about him, but she knows enough. He’s rich, can take months off from work to vacation, and there’s little chance he actually knows what complicated is.

“Why do you ask?” he continues, scratching his neck.

Emma shrugs. “Because this wasn’t…this was casual. I’m not into having a relationship, especially with someone who has an expiration date.”

“Trust me, love,” he laughs, “neither am I. I do fancy you from time to time when you’re not yelling at me, but I know what this was. I’m not under any impressions otherwise.”

Emma nods and grabs a pair of sleep shorts from one of her drawers. “Well, good. That’s good.”

This is always the awkward part. Do they stay or do they go? Emma votes go, but she’s unsure how to ask without coming off as a total bitch.

Especially since this is a man who already knows her more than he should.

“Yeah,” he smiles, “it is good.” He leans down and picks up his jeans, standing to slide them on. Why the hell are his pants that tight. “But I have the feeling you’re waiting on me to leave, so I can do that for you.”

“Oh, I - ”

“Perceptive, Swan.” He points to his head. “I told you I’m actually quite perceptive, and I meant it. Have a good night, love. I’m sure I’ll see you around the island.”

He finishes getting dressed as Emma stands in the corner and crosses her arms, watching him. Not five minutes ago she was watching him move in a completely different way, and the memories nearly tempt her to ask him to stay.

She’s stupid, but she’s not that stupid.

“Yeah,” Emma sighs, “I’ll see you around.”

-/-

July

“Can you work Saturday, Ashley?” Emma asks as she pulls up next week’s schedule. “Heather apparently can’t, and I have to have someone cover her shift. You’ll get good tips.”

“I can work then, but I need next Thursday morning off. I have an appointment.”

Emma adds Ashely’s name into the chart and looks up as Ashley rubs her hand over her stomach. “I’ll cover you. Are you finding out the gender?”

“I am. I’m excited.”

“Good.” Emma closes her laptop and stands from behind her desk. “I’m glad you’re excited. How are things out there?”

“Busy. I’d expect nothing less from the holiday week.”

Emma inhales before breathing out a slow exhale. “I wouldn’t either. I’ll come and help out. Make sure you’re taking enough breaks and drinking enough water. I don’t want you exhausting yourself.”

“I’m not,” Ashley promises, but Emma knows how tired the girl is, “but I really appreciate you.”

They walk out of Emma’s office, and while Ashley goes back to her section, Emma starts doing her rounds, checking in with her servers and cooks, making sure everything stays up to the standards she needs. This is one of their busiest weeks of the year, and she can’t afford for anything to go wrong. They had a hiccup last week with the bread order, and with how many burgers they’re selling, she really can’t afford for that to happen again.

Once she’s done checking inside, she walks to their outside area. It’s such a pleasant day out with the sun shining directly over them. The boardwalks are full of people, the beaches the same, and she sees more boats out on the water than usual.

She also sees a familiar mop of black hair sitting alone at the end of their outdoor patio. She hasn’t seen him since he left her house a few days ago, headlights of his Jeep fading in the distance.

Go figure that he’s here again. He seems to be fond of the place.

“You really like the food here, huh?”

“That and the manager.”

Emma laughs and leans against the railing as a family boards a boat a few feet away, their voices carrying over to Emma. It’s four of them, mom, dad, brother, and sister. It’s the picture-perfect New England family, and she imagines all the brochures in the tourism office look just like this.

And not at all like her.

“Laying on the charm a little too thick,” Emma sighs, shaking her head. “But I have a feeling that’s your thing.”

“I like to think it’s just the right amount.” He spears a bit of his omelet and pops a bite in his mouth. “What are you doing out here?”

“My job.”

His brow arches and he reaches out his arm, moving it around to the railing. His skin has tanned since she first met him, and she must admit, at least to herself, that he looks good. “You check in on all your customers like this?”

“Just the ones who keep coming back.” “To be fair, I figured I could avoid you seeing me if I sat out here.”

Emma rolls her eyes as the family’s boat starts and begins to stutter away. “Look, you can come here all you want. I know I - I didn’t make it seem that way, but I don’t care what you do or don’t do as long as you don’t expect anything from me.”

“Not a thing, love.”

“Good.” Emma stands, tightening the knot on her Blue Dog Tavern t-shirt. “But, you know, if you did happen to be up late at night, and I happened to be up, I wouldn’t oppose you stopping by for some coffee.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“Well, some nights, of course. When I feel like it.”

Killian chuckles and leans back in the chair, the front legs coming off the ground. “When you feel like it. And how would I know that?”

Emma pulls her phone out of her back pocket and holds it out to him. Without a word, he types his number in and hands it back to her. “That’s how you’ll know. I hope you enjoy your meal, Jones.”

Emma taps him on the shoulder and walks away, shaking her head. She’s stupid. So damn stupid, but as she walks back into the main dining hall and sees how crazy it is, she thinks she deserves a bit of a break, a bit of fun. She’s an adult. She can make stupid decisions sometimes.

Especially hot, British stupid decisions who are here on a time limit.

Her life is messy already. What’s one more thing?

-/-

Emma pops open a beer bottle, throwing the top away and settles on David and Mary Margaret’s pool lounge chair, pulling her legs up to keep them out of the sun. Ruby, meanwhile, is on full display on a pool float, as is David. Mary Margaret is joining Emma in the no sun club.

“So, how are you lately?” Mary Margaret asks, sipping on her lemonade. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you in a week.”

“That’s because you haven’t.”

Mary Margaret laughs and puts her drink on the table between them. “Well, you have to tell me what you’ve been up to. I don’t know how you deal with months without - ”

“Oh my God,” Ruby screeches, nearly flopping into the pool before she paddles her way toward the two of them, “I totally forgot.”

“What’d you forget, hon?”

“That I saw Emma’s hot British friend running yesterday, and I nearly passed out.”

“Why?” Emma asks, sipping on her beer again. “Were you running too? I told you to stop doing that when you haven’t had water in ages. You’ll legitimately pass out.”

Ruby kicks and some of the water splashes onto the side of the pool. “Hey, careful!” David yells. “I just cleaned this grout.”

“Yes, Dad,” Ruby mocks, kicking more water before paddling to the edge of the pool. “Anyway, I meant to say that I saw him, was reminded of just how attractive he is, and Emma, my darling, I must say that there is no harm in having a little summer fun. In fact, I encourage it. It’s good for the soul. And the vagina for that matter.”

Emma spits out her beer, the alcohol spilling onto the tile, and she swear David gives her murder eyes even though he’s gone back to lounging with his eyes closed. “You need a filter, Rubes.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Emma laughs and stretches her legs out, letting her toes peep out of the shade and into the brightness of the sun. “I will have you know, though, that he doesn’t plan on returning next summer. He has an expiration date.”

“So you fucked him?” Ruby asks, a little too gleeful.

“You can fill in the blanks.” Emma pulls her feet back under the shade and closes her eyes.

She’s not shy with her friends, especially Ruby. they know enough about each other’s lives to fill books about, but some things, Emma keeps under wraps unless she absolutely has to share them. Or unless she’s in the mood. Right now, with David nearby and with Mary Margaret totally judging her.

The woman is kind and fun and supportive, but she also met David a decade ago and knew he was the one on the first date. Personally, Emma thinks that is bullshit, but she’d never tell anyone that. You can know someone for years without truly knowing them, so how could anyone be so sure on a first date?

David Nolan and Mary Margaret Blanchard somehow were.

“You know, Emma,” Mary Margaret begins, “that wall you keep up may keep out pain, but it may also keep out love.”

Emma laughs and presses the cold bottle to her lips. “Marg, I’m sleeping with a guy for fun. It’s not a love match. Let me have this. In September, I’ll go back to being the Emma Swan who doesn’t do stupid things like this.”

“I didn’t - ”

“It’s fine.” Emma finishes her drink and pulls her hair into a high bun before standing and walking toward the pool, quickly submerging herself in the water to get used to the chill. She swims over to David and pulls on his float. “Hey.”

He lifts his sunglasses. “Hey.”

“How goes the job? Still seeing a bunch of cats and dogs be cute?”

“Cute and gross. What’d Mary Margaret say to make you leave your cocoon of shade?”

“Nothing. Just thought I’d come say hi to you. I do like you from time to time.”

David chuckles and slides his glasses back on. “I only believe half of that, but it’s alright. I won’t push.”

“And that’s why I love you.”

Emma stays with the Nolans and Ruby for the rest of the afternoon, and no one bugs her about her dating life, thank God. They all mean well, truly, but sometimes the last thing Emma wants to do is listen to them. On the spectrum of how they approach love, Emma is somewhere in the middle. She’s not David and Mary Margaret with their love conquers all attitude, and she’s not Ruby with her casual, carefree approach to simply seeing where the wind takes her. She’s...well, she doesn’t know what she is. All Emma knows is that while she’s experienced the highs of what love can bring, she has also experienced the lowest of the lows.

It’s safer in the middle. If you don’t fall in love, you can’t get your heart broken. But you can have some fun when you need it.

Hence, Killian, even if he is not the someone she expected to be having her summer fun with.

God, when she thinks like that, it sounds like she’s narrating a beach movie where all the colors are too bright and no one ever sweats despite spending their entire lives outside.

Speak of the devil, a group of young girls ride down the street on bikes, laughing, their hair falling behind them, and then two minutes later, they’re back again. What the hell?

That’s when she realizes they have a friend with a camera standing on the sidewalk, taking pictures of them, and Emma rolls her eyes before turning to grab her purse and her keys. “I’m going to head home,” she yells out. “I want to beat all the drunk drivers and the illegal fireworks home.”

“Wait, don’t go,” Mary Margaret insists from her spot on the couch. “Let me get you some leftovers.”

“Marg, you don’t have to feed me.”

“I know, I know.” She stands from the couch and heads toward the kitchen. “But you so rarely cook, and it’s good for you to have real meals. And since you’re alone without - ”

“Oh my God,” Ruby squeals, king her leg out. She nearly knocks over the vases and books Mary Margaret keeps on her coffee table. “Holy fuck. Like, fuck.”

Emma drops her purse. “What?”

Ruby raises her hand and folds her fingers, beckoning Emma to come closer to her. Emma rolls her eyes, but she does it anyway, plopping down next to Ruby.

“Okay, so, I couldn’t stop thinking about your new boy toy,” she starts.

“Not a toy,” Emma corrects. “He’s fine with the arrangement too.”

“Whatever. Anyway, I wanted to know more about your little sex buddy, not that I think he’s little in any way, so I went to Ariel’s Instagram, searched through her followers, and found him. And, well…”

Ruby shoves her phone into Emma’s hands, and Emma looks down, scanning through the photos. It’s a lot of group shots of men in soccer uniforms, and she thinks that’s weird but okay. He’s a member of a little soccer club back home. That seems like something rich people in England would do. It’s probably more interesting than her extracurricular hobbies which consist of eating, going to the gym, and sitting in David and Mary Margaret’s living room. It’s not like she has any room to judge someone over what they do in their free time.

Still, she continues scrolling, careful not to like anything, and it’s not until she comes across a picture of him with his shirt off that she stops to really think.

Not because he has his shirt off. She’s seen that in person. She doesn’t need to see that in pictures.

But because of the number of likes on the picture.

And the number of followers he has.

And then the little blue checkmark next to his name.

Holy fuck indeed.

“So, that’s how he has money to rent one of the big houses over in Edgartown.” Emma closes out the app and hands Ruby back her phone. “Well, that’s interesting.”

“Interesting?” Ruby scoffs, getting loud enough that David finally looks up with his own phone. Mary Margaret remains clueless in the kitchen. “You’re sleeping with a literal professional athlete, and that’s your reaction?”

Emma shrugs and stands from the couch as David asks Ruby to see what she was showing Emma. “David obviously finds it more interesting than me. I don’t care who he is or what he does or doesn’t do. That’s none of my business.”

Ruby gapes, David does too, and while Emma does have a bit of a weird feeling in her gut, she truly does not care what Killian Jones does. She’s got a few questions, sure, but much like the other men she’s been with lately, all she needs to know is if they’re clean and if they have condoms.

A little crude, but it’s the truth.

“Holy shit, Emma,” David whispers, but Emma is already ready to go, making her way into the kitchen to get the tupperware from Mary Margaret before this becomes a thing and she gets home too late.

It’s not a thing.

And she wants to go home.

-/-

It’s definitely not a thing, but she does think about it the next time he comes over. Not for long, though. Just when she notices a noticeably defined muscle she’s a little jealous of, but then he does this particularly delicious thing with his tongue or his hips that makes her completely forget about it.

And it’s not a thing when she thinks about it when she sees him running along the sidewalk outside the Blue Dog. She can run. She’s fit. She hates doing it, but she can. He just seems...graceful or something that she isn’t always. It’s difficult for her to articulate in her mind.

It continues to not be a thing each time she sees him, even when he invites her to his place for a change of scenery. The house, surprisingly, isn’t overly big compared to some of the other houses in the neighborhood, but it’s definitely not a place she could ever afford.

Not if she worked her literal ass off for five lifetimes and never spent any of her money.

All of the finishes are new, the design that modern coastal feel Emma sees on all the HGTV shows, and she can’t say she minds it. Her taste has always been a little more eclectic, but it’s nice, clean. And maybe one day when she’s not living in someone else’s house, she’ll actually decorate where she lives to her taste.

One day.

“Nice place,” Emma says, craning her neck so he can run his lips in just the right spot. He’s a quick study, which she appreciates, and he always remembers whatever she tells him.

“I like it,” he mumbles, his voice vibrating against her skin.

“Is this your style? Do you live in a big coastal home back in England?”

She doesn’t know why she asks, but she does.

He pulls back and raises his brow, which is this thing he’s always doing. At first it was annoying, like he was always questioning her, but now she realizes his brow likely has a mind of its own.

“Why do you ask, love?”

And much like the brow, that word seems to slip off his tongue without much thought. It has also become less annoying.

“No reason. Just curious.”

“I thought we didn’t ask personal questions.”

“You,” she corrects, tapping his chest, “don’t ask personal questions. I never said I couldn't ask.”

“I don’t think those are rules I agreed to.”

Emma ducks from underneath his arms, making her way into the open space of the living room. She unbuttons her shirt until her bra is exposed, and Killian’s eyes immediately glance down. Men are so easy.

“Okay, fair,” Emma sighs, running her hand over the back of a very well-made couch. “If I ask you a personal question, you can ask me one in return. But I have the right to veto. It’s a tit for tat situation.” He opens his mouth, and she already knows what he’s going to say. Again, men are so easy, and this is one that never passes up the opportunity for an innuendo. “Don’t say it, Jones.”

“Wasn’t going to.” He strides toward her, his movements fluid, and he puts his pointer finger in the empty belt loops of her jean shorts to pull her closer to him. He’s ridiculously warm. Then again, that could just be the flush in her cheeks. “And to answer your question, no, my flat in England doesn’t look like this. The colors are darker, but I do have a lot of blue and a few nautical pieces.”

“So you like the ocean then?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he corrects, tugging on the loops again, “you’ve already asked your question.”

“Asking if you like the ocean is not a personal question.”

“Anything can be a personal question depending on the person.” There’s a flash of something in his eyes, but Emma can’t decipher it. She’s usually a little better at reading people than that. “That can be your question for tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” she asks as his hands sneak around to her ass.

“Yep. One personal question a day. Keeps things interesting while separate.”

“And we keep the veto rule?”

“Aye, we keep the veto rule, Swan,” he smiles, dipping his head down to kiss her. That’s the entire reason they’re here, after all.

“Good.”

Tomorrow, she’s totally going to ask a better question than if he likes the beach or not. He left England to hang out in Martha’s Vineyard for a few months. He obviously likes it.

“So,” Killian begins as he skillfully snaps the hook on her bra off. Emma lifts her back from the couch to give him easier access. “Tell me, darling, do you like seafood?”

His mouth grazes over her nipple, and Emma yanks on his hair, hard. “Is this your one personal question?”

“Aye.”

Emma rolls her eyes at the same time that she rolls her hips, and she thinks there must be some kind of metaphor for her life choices there.

“Love it.”

“Good,” he whispers as his warm hands run down her bare stomach and underneath the waistline of her shorts. “Then I insist you stay for dinner.”

And because Emma has been all into making stupid decisions over the past month, she does.

-/-

-/-

Tag list: @qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion​ @dramioneswan​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @wefoundloveunderthelight

[arumin-arureruto]

Honeytea PT 2

Kyoya x fem reader and Hikaru x fem reader, Kyoya angst, Hikaru slowburn.

Warnings: none

word count: 1.7k

songs to listen to while reading:

What Am I by Why Dont We

Greek God by Conan Gray

hikaru’s outfit:

Reader’s outfit (your outfit can be whatever you want this is just what I had in mind while writing <3):

Cafe Hikaru and reader are at:

you woke up with the sun shining on your eyes, reaching out to feel the spot where your husband had been sleeping cold and empty, he had already left for work. Last night was emotionally exhausting, you had a fight with Kyoya and called Hikaru while your emotions were running high, even though you woke up feeling calmer it would still be nice to see him. You decided to get up and check your phone to see if you were still on for today, there were 6 unread messages from Hikaru.

“checking if ur okay”

“meet me tomorrow at 12pm for lunch at that cafe near my house, the one Honey got banned from”

“btw how the fuck do you manage to get banned from a restaurant for eating too much cake”

*picture of a single spoon inside a sink* “lol me”

“I should probably go to bed now goodnight”

He hasn’t changed a bit since high school, that’s what was so comforting to you about Hikaru. He took you back to a time where everything was much more simpler, lazy afternoons on the grass with the host club, drinking tea by the window in music room 3 with Kyoya, study sessions with Mori and Honey, getting into all sorts of mischief with Hikaru and Kauro, quietly reading with Haruhi, piano lessons from Tamaki…

All those memories started playing back in your mind and you started to feel all warm inside, you really didn’t know how good you had it. It’s not that you weren’t happy, you were married to the man you loved, you were one of the most respected and powerful women in society, what else could you ask for? But sometimes it felt like you were missing out on something, like your world could be so much more. When you mentioned this to Kyoya a couple months ago he suggested you try for children but you quickly shot down the idea, you were 23 and he was 24, having kids right now would be too big of a responsibility.

Shaking those thoughts from your head you checked the time on your phone, 10am. You still had 2hours before you had to meet Hikaru so going back to sleep was a tempting offer, but considering the cafe was almost 30 minutes away and you got easily distracted while getting ready it would be wiser to start picking out some clothes and getting in the shower. There was about 45 minutes before a maid was supposed to come in and clean your room so you figured that should be enough time to take a quick shower, you could just ask them to wait till you were done but you always felt awkward doing so.

After zoning out for a minute you headed for the shower, got undressed, put your hair up and turned on the hot water, you already washed your hair yesterday so there was no point in washing it again. You had always loved showers, the feeling of the warm water on your skin, the sound of the water dripping on the floor and the smell of all your products were enough to wash all your problems away. After about 25 minutes in the shower you turned the water off and stepped out, already missing the warmth of the water. After quickly drying yourself off with a towel you started massaging some lotion into your skin, first your arms and then your legs, this was your favorite part of your routine. When you felt that you had enough lotion on already you put on a robe, walked out of the bathroom and towards your walk in closet. It was september so the weather was still warm, today would be a simple dress day, or as simple as you could. Downside of being married to Kyoya Ootori: having to keep up appearances ALWAYS. After picking out a dress it was time for shoes, you gravitated towards a gorgeous pair of open toed gold heels that would’ve gone really well with your dress, but your legs were still slightly sore from last night so sandals it is.

After scrutinizing every part of your outfit and make up, which in the end you decided to go with a simple eyeliner, mascara and gloss, it was already 11:15. You grabbed your purse and asked someone to bring the car around. You hurriedly walked down the large staircase, excitement clear in your step, you got inside the car and gave a quick hello to the driver.

“Good morning Mrs Ootori, where to?”

“Morning Ryuzaki, Honeytea Cafe.”

“Understood ma’am.”

After giving your instructions you  pressed the button to lift the divider between the driver and the backseat, needing to be alone. You hadn’t seen Hikaru in person since your wedding reception, you talked on the phone occasionally but always for less than 2 minutes, this was the first time in months you would be in the same room again. Was it gonna be awkward? I mean you did call him yesterday late at night crying so what if he thought you were weird? No, no, this was Hikaru, your best friend since your first year of high school, everything was gonna be fine.

The 30 minute ride felt like it went by in less than 15, After getting to the cafe you told Ryuzaki to go back home and that you would call when you were done, since you didn’t know how long you would take. 11: 52pm, 8 minutes till you were supposed to meet Hikaru, meaning you had 8 minutes to get your act together.

You stepped into the cafe and scanned the place, 6 years and nothing had changed. Still the same old tall bookshelves lined the walls. The same paintings on the walls, and just like you remembered, peace and quiet. Since the cafe was a bit old fashioned it tended to attract an older crowd, old people just trying to enjoy their coffee and adults in their 30s that wanted a quiet place to work. While you continued to examine the room, lost in your own world, you felt a pair of slender hands on your shoulders and heard a familiar voice coming from behind you.

“Taking a trip down memory lane while blocking the way huh? Honestly y/n I thought commoners taught their children better manners.”

At first you were startled but then you quickly turned around to face the voice and there he was. Tall, mischievous smile and wild hair, Hikaru Hitachiin in the flesh. “Hikaru I-” you hugged him before you could even finish your sentence. You stood there with your arms wrapped around his neck in silence for a couple more seconds.

“y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re still blocking the way.”

Oh right.

Behind you 2 old ladies stood with unpleasant expressions on their faces, you both moved out of the way to let the ladies through, they walked past you and muttered something about today’s youth having no respect for their elders. You stood there slightly embarrassed, heat rising to your cheeks while Hikaru looked like he might burst out laughing.

You decide to grab a table at the very back of the cafe, away from everyone else. After you sit down Hikaru strikes a conversation. “Haven’t seen you in a year y/n, how’s married life been treating you?” He propped up his elbow and leaned his head on his hand, keeping his eyes focused on you.

Damn so we’re already on that topic.

“We’ve had our ups and downs, what about you? How are you and Kaoru doing?” Hopefully he won't bring up your phone call from yesterday. “We’re doing pretty good, Kaoru actually started seeing someone a couple months ago. Cute boy he met at an art gallery.” You could hear the tiniest hint of jealousy in the last part, but overall Hikaru sounded happy for his brother. “Oh he did? That’s cool” you stay silent for a couple seconds before proceeding with what you were saying. “And how do you feel about Kaoru seeing someone?” Hikaru’s eyes shifted from you to the table and kept them focused there. “In the beginning it was weird, I hated the idea of having to share him with someone else but now, I see how happy he is with Evan and that’s all that matters to me.” He looked up from the table to look at you and smile, then he spoke again but this time in a more playful tone. “So are we eating or what? Man were you seriously gonna let me starve? Typical Ootori.” That comment made you laugh, you really did miss him.

You both ordered and paid separately, since you knew you would argue over who would pay the bill. After you both received your food you sat down to eat, while you ate you reminisced about the past and talked about all the trouble you used to get into back in the day.

“No no, you were the one that tricked Tamaki into dressing up as Haruhi to fool the doctors during the physical exam that one time.” He laughed and pointed at you with a piece of bread. “Whaaaaat? Me? I would never, I was just an innocent bystander” you defended yourself while also laughing, then you remembered something. “No but for real that one wasn’t my idea, actually Kyoya came up with it.” Hikaru stopped laughing but still had a smile on his face, he then asked you a question.

“So Kyoya…” There was a pause before he spoke again.

“You mentioned you have your ups and downs, I’m guessing yesterday was a down?”

The food that was in your throat had trouble going down, you tried to quickly swallow and answer Hikaru’s question. “Yesterday was definitely not one of our best days” You let out a nervous laugh. Before you could elaborate a middle aged man came up to your table and asked if he could borrow one of your chairs for his daughter, seeing that you were both already finished with your food you told him he could have the chairs and got up to leave.

As you were walking out of the coffee shop Hikaru tapped your shoulder.

“Hey my house is just a 5 minute drive from here, we could go there if you wanna talk more in private.”

[xjoonchildx]

guarded | jhs x reader | chapter four: cham-pain

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you.  now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 4.4K

A/N: hey, you.  yes, YOU. has anyone told you that you’re pretty today? well, if not let me be the first. i can’t help but feel lovey-dovey about the love you guys have shown me on this story. thank you so much for everything.  i hope you like this chapter and i hope you’ll reach out and let me know either way.  big shoutout to the baes @ladyartemesia​ and @taetaewonderland​ they know why.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

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

At what point do you stop calling them shorts and start calling them panties?

That’s the question Hoseok ponders when he walks into the kitchen to find you precariously perched on tiptoes, straining to reach for something in an overhead cabinet.  He lets his gaze linger over the soft skin of your legs, up to your thighs, up higher to where he can damned near see the swell of your ass peeking out from that obscene little scrap of cloth.

What he does next is probably unwise.

What he does next is approach silently from behind, pressing one hand into the small of your back as he reaches over you to get a hold of the jar you’re struggling to grab. And if he enjoys the way your body jolts with surprise beneath his fingertips or the way your hair smells when he’s this close, then that’s his business and no one else’s.

“Thank you,” you murmur, avoiding his eyes and for a moment Hoseok thinks you’re going to scold him for being so bold.

But you don’t.

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

Hoseok shouldn’t be toying with you right now and he knows it. It’s not like you’ve ever been an open book with him, but these past few days you’ve been even more withdrawn -- more in your head than ever before.  

Not that you don’t have your reasons.

Shit is off the rails with your case and you’re living with a complete stranger and someone left a live fucking snake in your bedroom a few nights ago.  

So if Hoseok has noticed that you walk around in a fog — that the fire he used to see inside of you from time to time seems extinguished — well, that’s certainly understandable. 

But he can’t help but wonder if there’s something more to your melancholy. He can’t help but wonder if you actually hold a candle for that idiot you left reeling at the restaurant.  

Hoseok can’t stop thinking about that guy.  

There is a feeling he can’t shake and it’s not just the urge to beat Kang Donghyuk to a pulp. Hoseok can’t shake the feeling that beneath the dopey smile and the lazy charm and the overall benign affect, there’s something more.  

Something Hoseok is determined to figure out.

So he leaves you to your cooking in the kitchen and retreats to the privacy of his room to phone Seokjin.  If this piece of shit is up to something, Hoseok is going to make it his personal mission to find it.

And if he finds something?

Then Hoseok will make it his personal mission to make him pay.

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

YOU

“Amsaja -- with Hoseok.  Try being nice.”

You think back to your brother’s words as you stand just outside the door to Hoseok’s room, fist raised to knock.  But you don’t, at least not right away.  

What is your fucking problem?

You remind yourself that you are a grown woman, not some skittish little girl.  You remind yourself that Jung Hoseok is just a man.  

And then you get a grip.

The door opens after one light knock.  You don’t mean to stare, truly you don’t -- but Hoseok is wearing one of those goddamned tank tops again.  What happened to suits all day and all night?  Suits are a hell of a lot less distracting.

“What’s up?” he asks cautiously.  

Your eyes dart from his face to his chest to his arms and finally settle around his neck, where a pair of dog tags hang from a silver chain.  You had nearly forgotten that Jung Hoseok made a career of the military before he was one of your brother’s right-hand men.

“I made some Samgyetang,” you say lamely, gesturing to the bowl of soup in your hands.

I made it for you. 

“And it’s uh, supposed to be good for a cold,” you add, when he says nothing.

Which you have.  

“So, I -- ” you clear your throat, shift your weight back and forth on your feet, “ -- made some.”

For you.

Hoseok stares at the bowl like you’ve brought him a grenade instead of a meal.  The puzzled look on his face makes you feel awkward, makes the entire gesture seem silly.

“Never mind,” you say under your breath, turning on your heels.  

“Wait --” Hoseok calls quickly, stepping out of his room to follow you,  “ -- I didn’t -- I was just surprised, that’s all.” 

“It’s just soup,” you say over your shoulder, trying like hell to sound casual and not at all offended.

Hoseok keeps pace behind you into the kitchen; commands your attention with one firm hand on your arm.  You turn to face him, averting your gaze from the sweatpants that hang low on his hips and the thin cotton that grips every muscle of his lean chest.

“I didn’t mean to make that weird,” Hoseok says quietly. “Thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve had homemade Samgyetang.”

You pull your arm out of his hold.  

“Well, it’s there if you want it,” you shrug, brushing past him.

It’s a relief to trade the charged air of the kitchen for the uncomplicated quiet of your room.

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

Hyejin takes her reading glasses off to rub the bridge of her nose.  

“I’m not even kidding about my eyesight being shot,” she sighs, reaching for her coffee cup.  “It gets worse every day and the print on these depositions does not help.”

“I know,” you mumble, highlighter flying over your own set of fine print.  “Sorry.”

“Hey, at least we’re in this together,” she smiles. “Right?” 

Her face falls when you don’t return the gesture.

It’s not exactly a secret that you haven’t been firing on all cylinders lately.  You are so worn out from the shit going on at work and the shit going on at home that it feels like you don’t have much more to give.  You just want to climb into bed and sleep for a week straight.

If only you had that luxury.  

Instead, you’re back at it with Hyejin today, trying to figure out a way around the missing digital evidence you so desperately need.  The loss of those files was a terrible setback, but you refuse to let it be the end.  You still have an entire warehouse full of confiscated guns under lock and key.

Now you just need to get your head in the game.

“You still going to the gala tomorrow night?” Hyejin asks, sipping her coffee.

So much for getting your head in the game.

“Not sure,” you murmur, underlining a key part of the testimony.  “Lots of shit going on right now.”

“Yeah, I know things between you and Donghyuk got weird,” Hyejin says carefully.

You stop yourself from laughing out loud. 

Donghyuk is so far down your list of fires to fight, you’d nearly forgotten him completely.  You probably could forget him if you weren’t subjected to his dirty looks every time the two of you cross paths at the office.  You’ve made at least two very awkward cups of coffee standing side-by-side in the past week alone -- but honestly, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“That’s -- “ you start and stop before continuing, “ -- not really an issue right now.”

“Okay, sure,” Hyejin concedes. “Just don’t forget that I’m here if you need someone to talk to, alright?  You don’t always have to take everything on by yourself.”

You stop your incessant highlighting to look up at your friend and colleague.  

Concern is written all over her pretty face and for a moment you entertain the thought of opening up to her.  The idea of talking about what’s going on is tempting -- like if you could share just a piece of your burden you could relieve some of the pressure inside of you.  But there’s another part of you that worries that you are too pent up to let go of any of this.  A part of you that feels like all it will take is one tiny crack for the entire dam to give.

You finally manage to muster one weak smile for your friend, who seems relieved to see any display of emotion out of you.

“Thanks, Hye.  I’ll keep that in mind.”

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

You almost skipped tonight.  Almost.

But you’d already bought a dress and the tickets were paid for and Hoseok didn’t even flinch when you told him you had to go to a black-tie event. 

If only you could say the same for the moment you saw him in the living room.

When Hoseok turned at the sound of your heels on the marble floor, with hands tucked into the pockets of his bespoke black tux, you nearly forgot to breathe.  All of the coordinating details, the slim-cut jacket and the perfectly-styled hair and the carefully-crafted bow tie felt like a gut punch.

You’d silently prayed that Hoseok didn’t catch the way your eyes lingered on him for just a beat too long -- or that he didn’t spot the heat you could feel creeping up your neck and into your cheeks. The color that must have been made all the more obvious against the rose shade of your gown.

“You ready?”

Hoseok interrupts your thoughts with his usual business-like tone.  The one that tells you that this inner monologue about how incredible he looks tonight is painfully one-sided.  

You nod, not trusting yourself to use your words.

All things considered, the situation with Donghyuk couldn’t have gone south at a better time.  He would have been your date for the night were it not for the blow up at dinner -- and it certainly would have drawn unwanted attention to have two men at your side all evening.  

Though with the way Hoseok looks tonight, you imagine the attention will come anyway.

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

There are few things in life rich people enjoy more than pretending to give a shit about poor ones. 

They make sport of it, jockeying for position in front of the cameras, gladly shelling out hundreds of thousands of won a plate to prove just how much they care.  They spend their evenings drinking top-shelf liquor and eating top-notch catering and convincing themselves that they’re making some kind of sacrifice for the greater good.�� 

A string quartet plays softly in the background as guests mill about, grabbing drinks and hors d'oeuvres off of passing trays.  Hoseok is at your side, a glass of water in hand.  He is just close enough for you to take in his heady, masculine smell -- but not too close.

You hate that he smells this good.

You hate that he looks this good.

You have tried -- and failed -- to ignore the appreciative stares he’s gotten from some of the gala guests.  You already caught one woman ogling outright, gawking unrepentantly while at her own date’s side.  When a cocktail server walks by with a carefully-balanced offering of champagne flutes, you grab one right away.

Hoseok, as usual, takes nothing.  

You sip your champagne and watch him watching the room.  

He certainly looks the part of a society player tonight in his tux, the occasional wrinkle of his nose the only indicator of his disdain for the men and women drinking and dancing around him.  When a woman bumps into him while carrying a plate of appetizers, he holds out a hand to help her keep upright and she damned near melts at his reassuring smile.  

“Oh, thank you,” she breathes deeply before her eyes dart in your direction.  

You look away.

Not once have you ever seen this man smile, and he’s certainly never smiled at you.  You turn to slam the rest of your champagne and put the empty flute on a nearby table just as another cocktail server passes with a full tray of drinks. 

How fortuitous.  You grab another.  

There’s a few more minutes of mingling before the guests are asked to take a seat at their assigned tables.  Hoseok holds out your chair and you accept. 

The interaction, like always, is silent.

You look up from the perfectly staged spread to spot Donghyuk two tables away.  Even from a distance you can tell his cheeks look ruddy — like he’s already had way too much to drink. He narrows his eyes when he realizes you are looking and you lift your champagne flute to tip a sarcastic salute in his direction.  He scowls back.

“Miss Kim,” a deep voice interrupts your petty exchange. “What a pleasant coincidence.”

You force a smile when your boss and his wife unexpectedly fill two empty seats at your table.

“Mr. Park,” you return quietly. “Nice to see you tonight. And Mrs. Park, of course.”

Mrs. Park’s answering smile is warm and genuine, but the same cannot be said of her husband’s. Of course, the last conversation you had with him one-on-one, he’d practically thrown you out of his office. The smile on his face right now is a bit watery.

“It’s so nice to see you dear,” Mrs. Park says sweetly.  “And who is this handsome fellow?”

You falter when you open your mouth to answer, but Hoseok smoothly interjects.

“Yi Sang, ma’am. Pleasure to meet you.”

You close your mouth and turn to smile woodenly at Hoseok, who doesn’t bother to look back. 

“Mr. Yi,” your boss extends his hand for a firm handshake, but a strange look passes over his face.  “The pleasure is ours.” 

Hoseok’s mouth pulls into a tight smile and you down what’s left of your champagne.

A couple you don’t recognize join your table before dinner is served.  You do your best to appear engaged in the small talk; nodding when appropriate, smiling during the awkward pauses.  But there is an emptiness in you tonight.  You spend the entire meal pushing the artfully-arranged dishes around your plate because you find you have no desire for food.

The same cannot be said for the champagne, though. That’s going down quite nicely.  Your server dutifully brings another flute as soon as yours is empty.

“I must commend you, Miss Kim, on forging ahead with this case,” Mr. Park says, when the plates have been cleared and after-dinner coffee is being served.  “I know it hasn’t been easy after the theft of your files.”

“Oh,” you clear your throat. “Yes, well -- I’m doing my best with what I have left.”

“Of course. It’s important we do what we can to bring these low-lives to justice,” Mr. Kim says slowly.  He looks from you to Hoseok with an expression that stops just short of a challenge and the champagne in your stomach seems to come to life. “Organized crime in this city is out of hand. We can’t allow Seoul to descend into chaos because of the trash making a living off of guns and drugs.”

Trash like your brother. 

“Right,” you say quietly, swallowing past a lump in your throat. “I’ll do my best.” 

Hoseok remains composed at your side, but you don’t miss how his knuckles go white as his grip around the water glass tightens.  

Trash like Hoseok.  

You swallow another mouthful of champagne.  

The couple sitting next to the Parks -- oblivious to the friction at the table -- strike up a conversation about the dessert selection and you’ve never been more glad for small talk.  The tension in the air slowly dissipates.

But you keep drinking.

Hoseok leans into you, lips so close they nearly brush the shell of your ear and your entire body goes still.  Goosebumps bloom all over when you feel his breath against your skin.

“You should eat something,” he murmurs.

You could almost laugh at the way your stomach seems to fall with disappointment.  What were you expecting him to say? Something complimentary? Something reassuring?  

What a joke.

All at once you decide you need space, you need air, you need a break from the bullshit you seem to be taking from all sides tonight.

Hoseok’s eyebrows lift as you stand from your seat.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you announce to the table, “I need to visit the powder room.”

The champagne seems to hit you the moment you stand and you have to work hard at keeping your steps steady as you make your way out of the ballroom.

You would never admit it, but Hoseok is right. 

You really should eat something.

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

hoseok: text me or i’m coming in [11:02 PM ]

You stand in the mirror and stare at your reflection in the dim lighting of the ladies’ room. You’ve been to dozens of these events over the years and it’s never felt as pointless and unnatural to you as it does right now.  A part of you hates how much you’ve tied yourself into knots seeking the validation of these pompous assholes.  So desperate to be chosen by the chosen few. 

hoseok: last chance [11:06 PM ]

Another part of you hates Hoseok.  

You hate his constant presence and his constant silence and his constant judgement.  It always feels like he’s punishing you for some transgression you don’t even know you’ve committed.  Your phone buzzes with a reminder of the waiting texts and you sigh, unlocking the screen to fire off an answer before Hoseok makes good on his threat to storm his way in.

you: i’m fine. be right out [ 11:08 PM ]

You take one last look in the mirror.  Have you always looked this tired? 

Before dinner -- after you’d meticulously primped for tonight -- you’d been satisfied with what you saw in the mirror.  Now all you can see are the shadows under your eyes, the grim set of your mouth.  Is this what other people see when they look at you, too?

A knock sounds on the door and you blow out an exasperated breath.  Hoseok must be tired of waiting for you to wrap this pity party.  You yank the door open with more force than intended, fully prepared to tell him to fuck off.

But it’s Donghyuk on the other side.

You stare at him.

“What do you want?” you hiss, stepping out into the hallway.

“I just want to talk,” Donghyuk says coolly, standing just a bit too close. You grimace at the smell of liquor on his breath.  “You still haven’t given me a chance to thank you personally for making me look like an asshole at dinner the other day.”

“Oh, honey -- you don’t need my help to look like an asshole,” you fire back, pushing more space in between you with a firm shove of your fingers to his shoulder. “You do a fine job of that all on your own.”

His laughter blows whiskey-tinged hot air in your direction and you make a face.

“I see you upgraded the bodyguard to dinner date.”

“Shut up, Donghyuk, honestly,” you seethe.  You try to step around him to leave, but he blocks you with his body.  

“You fucking him now, too?”

You barely register the movement of your own hand before it’s connecting with the side of Donghyuk’s face.  You barely register Hoseok’s arrival before he’s between you both, pulling you away and practically shoving Donghyuk to the floor.  You barely hear Hoseok’s whispered threats and you nearly miss the way he unbuttons his jacket to ensure Donghyuk sees his gun.

The whole debacle is so fast and so surreal you could almost convince yourself you imagined it.

But there is no imagining the sting still throbbing in your palm.

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

HOSEOK

The trouble tonight started long before you smacked the shit out of Kang Donghyuk. 

The trouble started when you walked out of your room in that goddamned gown. Hoseok had not been entirely prepared for you in that dress.

He had only a split second to make sure he wasn’t staring.  He jammed his hands into his pockets and forced the most casual demeanor he could muster, but fuck it wasn’t easy.  There were a hundred things he could have said in that moment, would have said in that moment -- if you weren’t you and if he weren’t him.

Of course, dinner was a bit of a clusterfuck, too.

Playing dress up with the city’s elites was somehow less enjoyable than Hoseok imagined it would be.  The stares from tipsy society girls and the critical looks from their dates were bad enough but your boss laying it on thick with the white knight bullshit at the end was the real icing on the cake.  The coded language and the veiled threats that made loud and clear he knew exactly what Hoseok was but wouldn’t say it out loud.  

Hoseok saw the way you seemed to retreat even further into yourself during the exchange, silent and thinking.

And drinking. 

Hoseok has only ever seen you enjoy the occasional glass of wine with meals.  Tonight was an entirely different story. You were on a mission to get wrecked from the moment you sat down; forgoing food for an alarming amount of champagne.  Hoseok counted four glasses down before he decided to say something. 

Of course, that went over about as well as he’d expected -- and seconds later, you were walking away.

Hoseok hadn’t planned on following you to the bathroom. He hadn’t planned on overhearing the nasty back-and-forth in the hall . And he hadn’t planned on threatening to kill Kang Donghyuk at some ridiculous charity dinner.  But when he saw the man get up from his seat to follow you -- Hoseok moved on auto-pilot.  

There was no avoiding what came next.

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

You don’t utter a single word on the ride home.  

You don’t say a word when Hoseok walks you upstairs, unlocks the door to usher you inside.  He’s still securing the new deadbolts when he hears your bedroom door slam shut.

Hoseok scrubs a hand over his face and sighs deeply before loosening the bow tie and slipping it off.   

Then he pulls out his phone to text Seokjin.

hoseok: you on him? [ 11:48 PM ]

seokjin: sleeping it off in his car right now. what a slob [ 11:49 PM ]

seokjin: you’re welcome btw [ 11:49 PM ]

hoseok: thx [ 11:50 PM ]

Seconds later, your bedroom door swings open so hard it bounces back off the opposite wall. Hoseok looks up from his phone just as you are storming into the living room, hands still securing the belt to the short robe you’ve just changed into.  

You are positively vibrating with a dangerous energy Hoseok can feel clear across the room.  Maybe you’ve been sleepwalking through these past few days, but you are definitely awake now.

And angry.

“I don’t need you to win my fights,” you fume, pointing one hostile finger in his direction. “I took care of myself long before you came along and I can take care of myself now.”

Christ, do you have any idea how little you are wearing right now?  

Hoseok focuses on that accusing finger because it keeps him from staring at your legs. It also keeps him from opening his mouth and making you madder than you already are. 

“I don’t need you or anyone else swooping in with that macho bullshit,” you hiss, bringing your body within inches of his.  “I have had enough of men running and ruining every aspect of my life.”

Shit, do you have any idea how close you are right now? 

Hoseok can smell the perfume that lingers on your skin when you’re this close.  He can see how your pupils are blown wide and your cheeks are flushed with heat when you’re this close. 

“Say something,” you demand, jabbing your finger into his chest.  “Do something.”

Fuck, you are playing with fire.

You want a fight and Hoseok is this close to giving you one.  He has to summon every ounce of his self control to keep his voice and breathing steady. He fists his hands at his sides to keep them from moving.  

“You’ve had too much to drink,” he replies with careful calm.  “You should go to bed.”

“Or what?” you challenge, fingers reaching to unfasten the top buttons of his dress shirt.  Hoseok’s entire body tenses under your touch. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he says between gritted teeth. 

“Checking for a heartbeat,” you murmur. “Looking for signs of life.  Is there a real man in there?”

There’s a real man in here, alright, Hoseok thinks darkly.  Keep pushing me and you’re going to find out.

“Of course not,” you whisper to yourself, snaking one hand into the collar of his shirt. He flinches when your fingertips brush up against the cool metal of his dog tags. “You’re some kind of robot.”

You pull the tags out from under his collar and Hoseok swallows thickly.  

“Just a machine programmed to follow orders, right?  My brother’s orders. The Army’s orders,” you pause to read the embossed letters on his tags.  ‘Isn’t that right, Captain Jung?”

You gasp when Hoseok’s hand comes up to seize yours.  His fingers circle the delicate bones of your wrist and he doesn’t let go, applying a pressure that sure as hell gets your attention.

“People like me follow orders so people like you don’t have to,” Hoseok seethes.  “People like me do the dirty work so people like you can impress rich assholes at stupid parties. People like me stay behind and handle our responsibilities so people like you can walk away from yours.”

Your stare at him for a moment, eyes wide at his outburst.  Then you jerk your wrist out of his hold so violently you nearly fall back with the force of it. 

Hoseok freezes when your robe slides down off your shoulder. He stares when his eyes settle on the jagged scar that runs deep across your collarbone.  

Fucking hell. 

Hoseok traded one bloody business for another when he gave up his rank in the Army for his rank in the Gajog. He’s seen more than his fair share of vicious cuts and nasty wounds. 

Whoever did that to you wanted to make sure you’d have to carry it with you for the rest of your life.

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

Tomorrow morning, Hoseok is gonna regret a lot of shit that happened tonight. 

He’s going to regret not telling you how beautiful you looked when you walked out of that room.  He’s going to regret going out of his way to hurt you with his words. 

But most of all, he’s going to regret the moment he looked into your face and saw the anger in your eyes change over into pain.

You yank the robe back over your shoulder, cinch the belt tight — and walk away without another word. 

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

tag list!

@saintjeonofbusan​ @lemonjoonah​ @illnevertrustmyselfagain​ @sunkissed725​ @taetaewonderland​ @shadowhale​ @sugaminyoonjiji​ @jinhitwhore​ @trust-me-im-joly​ @daydreambrliever​  @ultraanonymousey​ @yoon-bug​ @multistantrash17​ @poohsaidhi​ @alyboo-jpeg​ @sahmfanficbts​ @yoongissugarmommy​ @ppersonna​ @p-polaroid​ @vi-hoshi​ @stressedinmedschool247​ @jgissle12​ @ctvrty​ @btsnatalena​ @strawbewymiwk​ @stephleee​ @jjeonjoon

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 12)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Billy Russo x Reader Word Count: 2731 Warnings: fluff, light angst

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: I know some of you may not have been happy about what happened in the last chapter and I expect that not to change here 🙈🙈

PART 11 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

It feels a little intimidating to be walking into an unfamiliar place. You and Billy decided to meet at a restaurant somewhat in between your apartments, although the commute straight from the hospital made the distance a little bit farther.

Even worse you were running late thanks to a last minute case that needed your attention. Billy understood and you hoped he believed you when you said you were still on your way. You were nervous and excited at the same time, not having been on a date in… well, you really don’t want to think about exactly how long.

It’s pretty crowded, not that you expected anything less for a Friday evening. You scan through all the faces that seemed to blend together in the dim lighting against the wall as you look for Billy. The long bar near the entryway is much brighter, with lighted holiday garland still up surrounding the shelves of liquor.

At the end of the bar you spot him and Billy’s dark eyes illuminate the moment he sees you. He stands up to greet you as you approach, and you both do an awkward dance of wondering if you should hug each other or not. You went for it anyway, your heart beating a little faster as his arm wrapped around your back, squeezing you just a little.

“I’m glad you made it,” he whispered against the shell of your ear. The slight rasp in his soft voice made a tingle run down your spine in the best way.

Texting him had been a lot easier, when you only recalled his good looks by memory, without the pressure of staring back at his handsome face. Billy gently placed his hand against your back as he guided you towards the host. You were seated in the back, hopefully far enough away from the crowds huddled around the TV near the bar showing tonight’s basketball game.

Sitting across from Billy you couldn’t help but feel awkward under his focused gaze. Your cheeks began to heat up and you’ve never been more thankful for a server to appear. You ordered a drink, hoping it would arrive soon enough to help you over the hurdle of your awkwardness and shed the first date jitters.

A thunderous cheer from the bar startled you, making you cringe internally for nearly jumping in your seat but the sound of Billy’s sweet laughter eased your worries. Your minor embarrassment allowed for the conversation to flow freely, and over much better food than you expected this bar to have, you and Billy got to know each other better.

His company ANVIL provided private security and tactical training seminars. What stuck with you most was how all of his employees were veterans.

“It changes you.” He spoke about war, each word a poignant reminder that he too has battle scars, both visible and not. “A lot of us felt lost comin’ home. We can’t pretend we fit back into a world when the puzzle’s changed on us. This is my way of helpin’ my brothers find their place again.”

Sighing softly, it felt like your heart doubled in size as you listened to him, believing in all the good he was doing for those that needed purpose again. Your hand reached out across the table towards Billy’s, gently rubbing your thumb along his skin as your palm covered his knuckles. It made you second guess if his smooth skin is about grooming or if he’s erasing every hardened memory of his past, softening his skin to soothe the trauma of his mind.

You felt a connection with Billy because of this, finding commonality in your work. Even though ANVIL is in security, it still provides a therapeutic environment to its employees. You opened up to share your own background and why social work is so important to you.

“I have seven months to go until I graduate and I honestly can’t wait. It’s been such a long journey to get to this point but everything will be worth it. To be the person that can make a difference in someone’s life, to stand up for them, help and protect them; it really means so much to me.”

Billy is quiet for a moment, meditating on his thoughts. His mouth opens but he chooses not to speak, offering a gentle smile instead. There’s a silent understanding that he isn’t ready to continue talking. It’s a heavy subject and certainly not the best first date material, but somehow everything felt right.

He paid for everything despite your offering to split the bill, lacing his fingers with yours as he walked with you a few blocks to the subway station. Even though it was Friday, you were exhausted and really needed to go home and crash.

Under the glow of a street lamp you kissed Billy goodnight, feeling a rush of excitement warming your body as you craved more of the softness of his lips. His hand came against your cheek as he parted your lips with his tongue.

Your knees buckled under the caress of his tongue against yours and Billy felt the way your body wanted to melt against his. His hands wrapped around your waist as he continued to steal the breath from your lungs.

It may be cold outside but right now all you can feel is the heat simmering in your bones. The longer Billy kisses you the more you want to let him, your core aching with desire, begging you to take him home.

A soft bubble erupts in the back of your throat and you pull away breathless. Pressing your kiss swollen lips together you smile at Billy, seeing his pink dusted cheeks that could have been from the cold but the lustful gleam in his eyes say otherwise.

It’s very tempting to give in to what you want but common sense gets the win for the night. You part, promising to speak again tomorrow and honestly, you couldn’t wait.

“Earth to Y/N! Hello!” Wanda waved her hand in front of your face that had been glued to your phone all night, accompanied by the smile that would not fade.

“S-sorry, sorry. You were saying?”

Wanda huffed, rolling her eyes as she continued her conversation, asking everybody their opinions on her plans for Valentine’s Day with Sam.

“I think it’s a lovely idea,” Peggy replied, snuggling a little closer to Steve as she thought of the plans they’ll be sharing.

Natasha was quiet, taking a sip from her drink as she observed you curiously. You were trying desperately to not touch your phone, though your eyes couldn’t help but dart towards the screen that lit up every few minutes.

It was odd considering Bucky was seated beside you, his phone nowhere in sight as he propped his elbows against the table, hand curled lazily around his beer. She had caught a glimpse of your shared kiss on New Year’s Eve, pointing Clint in your direction as well so they could share in the satisfaction of being right.

From the moment you no longer wanted to kill Bucky they had been taking bets on how long it would take for you to hook up. Clint had bet by Halloween but Natasha knew it would take longer. Although now she’s unsure if she truly won the bet. You and Bucky kissed of course but nothing else suggests you had gone further; and by the ever growing smile on your face as you ignore everyone including Bucky, she has a strong suspicion of what may have derailed her chance of winning.

“Y/N, for Valentine’s Day do you have plans with your mystery texter?” Natasha asked, silencing the entire table.

A grin spread across her face as your eyes began to widen. You were caught. Not that you had done anything at all to hide it.

Wanda’s mouth fell open. “Could it be?!”

“Details, now!” Steve practically commanded. Feeling like the honorary older brother in your life he absolutely needed to know who was causing you to act as giddy as you were.

“Okay, okay!” you laughed, holding your palms up as if you were caught red handed. Trying to control your smile, you took a deep breath before telling everyone about how you met Billy. “We’ve gone out a few times and he’s really sweet. I can’t wait for you guys to meet him!”

While almost everyone said they couldn’t wait Natasha noticed the way Bucky turned a little paler, grumbling the words under his breath before he washed them away with a hefty swig. She cocked her eyebrow at Clint, sharing an unspoken look they would definitely be discussing when they were alone.

Your stomach was churning and not because of the bloody glimpse you passed in the ER during your hours at the hospital. Tonight the entire group was getting together and they were going to meet Billy.

The thought had you shaking though you’re not sure why you’re so nervous. Billy has been a total sweetheart and you’re certain your friends will like him. It had been a few weeks since you first met and you had kept your dates mostly secret, not wanting to tell anyone until you were sure this was something worth speaking about.

Most of the dates have been low-key, meeting up at The Grind House or grabbing a quick bite to eat after work. Both of your schedules were pretty busy and you didn’t envy the fact that Billy ran an entire company. Only once did he have to cancel at the last minute; things came up and you completely understood. What you did not expect was a beautiful bouquet of flowers delivered to you at the hospital as an apology.

As you were getting ready you got a text from Billy saying he would meet you at the bowling lounge you were all going to since he was still working and it would be faster to head there directly. This only added to your nerves, having to wait just a little longer before Billy met everyone as opposed to breaking the ice with Bucky, Natasha and Clint on the way there as you imagined.

The moment you were hoping he could bowl well was when you decided you needed to stop overthinking everything and relax. Your friends will like Billy regardless of little things; as long as he treated you well, and he did, was all that mattered.

The subway was crowded, with bodies cramped even closer together to avoid the spilled drink right in front of the door. You were pressed against Bucky’s chest which you didn’t mind at all considering it could have been worse given the other passengers surrounding you. He was on alert as a man got on the next stop, with foam nearly frozen down his mouth and chin, mumbling loudly as he paced back and forth through the spill.

Bucky shifted his position so you were mostly behind him, although he was still turned to the side to keep his eye out just in case. You appreciated the gesture, smiling softly in silent thanks, taking note of the bags under his eyes. He hadn’t mentioned the latest project he was working on but you assumed it’s something that’s kept him up.

The brisk air moves right through you as you ascend the steps to the street, walking quickly past the large scattering of tourists that lazily stop along 42nd Street to take pictures despite the freezing cold. Thankfully you only had a few blocks to walk.

Steve and Peggy were waiting inside the lobby, informing you Wanda and Sam should be there shortly. You saw the text she had sent to everyone, skimming over it to text Billy and let him know you arrived. The nerves came back in full force as you saw the three dots appear as he was typing.

What if he couldn’t make it? What if he had to stay late at work? What if he just didn’t want to see you? What if this was some elaborate joke and you were tricked into believing somebody could actually like you?

Worrisome thoughts ran through your mind until Billy’s response came through. There was some relief knowing he was two blocks away, but the nerves still stayed, hoping your friends would like him and do their best not to embarrass you.

“On your left,” a voice called out, and Steve turned around to see Sam, smiling beside a bundled up Wanda as they greeted each other. Apparently this was some inside joke no one else but them understood.

“When did it get so cold?” Wanda asked rhetorically, blowing out puffs of cold air as she loosened the scarf from around her neck. She greeted everyone, realizing all but one person was there. Just as she was going to ask about Billy he stepped through the door.

A wide smile spread across his face as he spotted you. His lean legs carried him towards you in long strides, cold lips and even colder skin pressing against your own as he greeted you with an affectionate kiss in front of your friends. Their middle school teasing of “oohs” broke the kiss, though your hand stayed cupped against his face, bringing warmth to his rose colored cheeks.

Bucky rolled his eyes at the display, a stranger in his mind, claiming his possession over you without a word spoken. Who does Billy think he is anyway? It’s practically below zero and he isn’t even wearing a hat. Pretty boy doesn’t want to ruin his hair, clearly. Bucky realized he was wearing his inner thoughts of disgust on his face, and quickly shook it off; yet the feeling of dislike for Billy hadn’t gone away as quickly.

Billy introduced himself to everyone as you stood beside him, unable to stop staring at how gorgeous he looked in a simple sweater and dark jeans. These were his colors, dark tones that matched his cavernous eyes, contrasting against the light skin of his perfect face.

From the corner of his eye Bucky couldn’t help but notice the way Billy’s hands were all over you, rubbing your back as you all waited for the employee to assign your lane, to the slip of his hand in the back pocket of your jeans.

His jaw clenched, anger rising in him for reasons he couldn’t quite understand but the moment he saw your face he let go of his tension with ease. You looked so happy, from the twinkle in your eyes to the smile you couldn’t contain. If you were happy Bucky was happy for you, even if he didn’t like it.

Two teams were chosen as you settled in to play, with Sam and Steve being the captains of each. Sam of course picked Wanda, along with Natasha and Clint while Steve chose Peggy first, with you, Billy and Bucky rounding out the rest of his team.

“I did it!” You jumped in surprise as you got a strike, by sheer luck since your first few turns made you wish the bumpers were inflated.

“That’s my girl,” Billy said smiling, cocking his head as he waited for you to come back to the bench.

Bucky was up next. Grabbing the swirly blue ball, he released it with a vigorous throw, not bothering at all to really aim. He took a few pins down, and waited for the ball to come back by the machine. Somehow throwing a heavy object at other objects made everything feel a little better but the sight of you making out with Billy crushed any attempts at his spirit feeling renewed.

During the games drinks and food were ordered and you were happy because it seemed like everyone was getting along with Billy. After two games Sam’s team ended up with the higher scores, and he absolutely rubbed it in Steve’s face.

“My shift is early tomorrow so I’m gonna head out,” Sam said, getting up from the table.

It wasn’t terribly late but considering how cold it was no one else really wanted to stay out to do anything. Bucky shrugged on his coat, watching Billy lean in to whisper something in your ear that made your lips pull into a smirk. As you said goodnight to everyone Bucky realized you wouldn’t be joining him, Natasha and Clint home.

PART 13

[btsqualityy]

Heaven Sent; Part 4

Jin x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings: None to note.

Months three and four were the months when you finally began to feel that sense of normalcy returning to your life again. The adjustment of going back to work was seamless and surprisingly, a large part of that had to do with Jin.

Ever since that first day when Jin babysat Aera for you, he had been watching her almost every day that you had to work since then. You still didn’t understand how he was doing it, watching Aera for you and also getting his own work done but whenever you asked him about it, he just shrugged you off and assured you that it was no problem. 

Admittedly, you never thought you’d find yourself depending on Jin once your husband passed away but when you really thought about it, you were extremely grateful for it. Jin was someone that you knew and trusted with Aera, but he wasn’t close enough to you personally to where you’d feel like a burden when asking him for help; which is exactly how you felt anytime that you asked your parents or Hae-il’s parents for help.  It also helped that Aera loved being around him, and you were determined to make sure that she could hold onto any bit of happiness that she could.

“Y/N-ah?” You heard your voice called and you broke out of your thoughts, looking up to see Yoongi and Taehyung standing in the doorway of your office.

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna stay here all night?” Taehyung wondered and you shrugged sheepishly.

“I’m trying to find some specific furniture that I had in mind for that house we’re decorating,” you explained. “It’s not going so well though.”

“Then maybe you should head home kiddo,” Yoongi suggested. “Isn’t Jin watching Aera today?”

“He is,” you nodded.

“She really loves him huh?” Taehyung smiled softly. “I’m almost starting to feel jealous.”

“You know no one could ever replace her Tae Tae,” you chuckled. “But you’re right, I should probably stop for the day and try to come back to this tomorrow.”

“Very true, but you should also come out with us tonight,” Taehyung smirked and your eyebrows immediately furrowed. 

“Out?”

“Just for some drinks,” Yoongi clarified. “Us two, Taeyeon from development, and Kibum and Minho from budgeting are the only ones going.”

“It’ll be really fun though,” Taehyung interjected. “We’re gonna drink beer and eat chicken and sing karaoke!”

“As tempting as that sounds,” you giggled. “I’ll have to pass guys.”

“You sure?” Yoongi double checked. 

“Yeah. Like you said, Jin has Aera and it is late so I should go get her,” you said. 

“Alright, but we’ll miss you,” Taehyung pouted.

“Have fun for me guys,” you laughed, waving to them and watching them do the same before they stepped away from your office and walked down the hall to the elevator. Once they were out of your sight, you saved the tabs that you had been looking at on your desktop before shutting the computer down and standing up. You quickly grabbed your jacket and bag, making sure that everything was in its place before turning off the lights to your office and stepping out into the hallway.

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

“Hey, come in,” Jin smiled as he held open the front door to his house, giving you room to step inside. 

“How was she today?” You wondered and Jin waved his hand dismissively. 

“She was perfect, as always,” he told you. “She fell asleep waiting for you though.”

“Oh, did she?” You murmured, your heart instantly inking at the thought of you daughter fighting her tiredness in order to wait for you.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Jin assured you, recognizing the look of worry on your face. “I told her that you were probably just working late and that you’d be here to get her soon.”

“And she was ok after that?”

“She was,” he nodded. 

“Ok, good,” you exhaled sharply, feeling somewhat better. 

“Have you eaten yet?” Jin asked suddenly and you shook your head slowly. “Well, I have some leftovers from earlier. Do you want some?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to trouble you,” you tried to say but Jin cut you off.

“It’s no problem at all,” he insisted. “I always cook too much anyways so I’d be happy to get rid of it.”

“Well, ok,” you relented with a nod of your head, and Jin grinned widely before turning around and leading you into the kitchen. Taking a seat at the counter, you watched silently as he moved to the fridge, taking some containers out before shutting the door and moving over to the counter space that sat next to the stove. 

“So, how’s work been going?” Jin wondered as he began to plate the dak galbi for you. 

“It’s ok, good to be back,” you told him and he nodded absently mindedly.

“You work in interior designing right?” He questioned, popping the plate into the microwave to warm the chicken before turning to look at you.

“Yeah,” you smiled gently. “I’ve been working at the same firm since right before Hae-il and I got engaged, so a little over seven years now.”

“That’s the same amount of time that I’ve been in the restaurant business,” Jin mentioned, turning around to open the microwave once it went off and taking the plate out. 

“You took over for your father right?” You wondered, watching as he walked around the counter, setting the plate and a fork down in front of you before sitting down in the chair that sat next to yours. Wasting no time after smelling how good the dak galbi was, you picked up the fork and dug right in. 

“Yeah, my father was getting older and my brother already has his own business so I decided to take over,” Jin replied. 

“A brother?” 

“My hyung, he’s older than me,” Jin chuckled. “What about you? Do you have any siblings?”

“No, I’m an only child and I’m still not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing,” you joked, making Jin laugh.

“It’s a good thing,” Jin assured you. “Trust me.”

“Everyone that I knew growing up had siblings though, even my cousins so I was kind of relived when I met Hae,” you smiled softly at the memory. 

“Funny story, but that’s actually how he and I became such close friends,” Jin said and your eyebrows rose.

“Really? How?”

“When we met, we hit it off right away,” Jin began. “As we got closer, he would always say, “I never had a brother but if I did, I’d want him to be like you” and that kind of sealed the deal for us and we were close ever since.”

“He always told me that he viewed you as a bother, but he never told me about that,” you admitted. “He hated being an only child and he always said that he didn’t want that for Aera...” you trailed off, unexpected tears welling up in your eyes and streaming down your cheeks as you realized that Aera would never have the siblings that you and Hae-il had wanted so desperately for her.

“Oh Y/N,” Jin whispered, setting one of his hands on your back and rubbing it gently as you cried into your hands that were now covering your face.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, and Jin shook his head at you.

“No no, it’s ok,” he told you softly. “Do you...have these moments alot?”

“What? Moments when it really hits me all over again that my husband and the father of my daughter is dead?” You questioned, making Jin grimace.

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged lamely. 

“Yeah, I do,” you admitted after a few seconds of silence, sniffling loudly afterwards as you wiped your face free of the tear streaks. “I’ll be doing something random, something normal and then suddenly I’m in tears because I’ll think of Hae.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that though,” Jin tried to say but you let out a laugh.

“There is when you’re trying to continue your life and raise your daughter,” you muttered. “You know, I can’t even open the closet in our bedroom anymore because his clothes are still in there. I’ve been living out of fucking laundry baskets.”

“He wouldn’t want this for you, you know that right Y/N?” Jin murmured. “He loved you so much.”

“And that just makes all of this even harder to deal with,” you confessed. “How do you move on in life without the person who felt like they had been right alongside you the entire time?”

“That’s a question that I’m still trying to answer myself,” Jin admitted and you looked over at him questioningly. “Do you remember that day about two weeks ago when I was supposed to watch Aera and I had to cancel?”

“Yeah, you said it was work related,” you shrugged.

“Well, it was but I actually canceled because I was too upset to be around Aera,” Jin began. “In the past, whenever I had difficulties with work, I always called Hae and asked him for his opinions because he had a great business mind and he always knew what to do. Well, when I found out about an issue that day, my first move was to call him and it wasn’t until I picked up the phone that I remembered that I couldn’t anymore.”

“Jin,” you sighed, reaching over and grabbing his free hand in yours, squeezing it gently.

“So I understand where you’re coming from about loosing someone who’s always been there, because I did too,” Jin muttered.

“The relationship was just different,” you finished for him and he nodded slowly. 

“Can I be honest?” Jin requested suddenly and you nodded your confirmation. “I think that’s why I’m so eager to help out with Aera. Not besides the fact that I really do want to but because even at only 5 years old, she’s so much like him and admittedly, it helps.”

“It does,” you smiled at the mention of your daughter. “She’s sweet and caring and so intuitive and too damn curious for her own good.”

“Just like Hae,” Jin laughed

“Just like Hae,” you agreed. 

“You know, I’ll always be here for you and Aea,” Jin promised you. “I still feel guilty that I moved to Japan and didn’t get to spend a lot of time with Hae before, and I don’t want that to be the case with Aera.”

“I understand. And trust me, you’ve done so much for Aera and I already, I don’t even know how I’m gonna begin to be able to repay,” you sighed.

“You don’t have to repay me. Just letting me be around is good enough,” he smiled and you did the same, feeling immensely comforted to have someone who really seemed to understand the gravity of the loss that you were feeling. You had never known it until now but Jin was hurting just as much as you were, just in a slightly different way, but you didn’t feel so alone now and that meant the world to you in that moment. 

[winchester-purgatory]

My brother’s best friend | Dean Winchester (part 2)

Summary: Dean visits his brother in Palo Alto…and fall for the redhead crashing in Sam’s bed

Word count: 1.1k

-

It was past six when Sam returned from a long day of classes, knowledge still rolling inside his head as he passed the door, as if his brain couldn't be stopped.

A whiff of grease filled Sam's nose when he walked in, seeing Dean seated on the couch, eating a burger he got from some fast food restaurant nearby along with a large fry. His socked feet were propped on the table as he laughed at the vintage cartoons on the television, bread crumbs falling on the couch.

Sam toed off his shoes and set his bag on his desk, pushing Dean's feet off the table on his way. ''I'm nice enough to offer you hospitality, the least you could do is not putting crumbs all over my couch. I really don't have time for extra cleaning.'' He sighed in exasperation, seeing more crumbs falling on the navy fabric. ''Dean!''

The elder one rolled his eyes, dusting some crumbs off the couch and onto the floor, as if it was any better. Sam shook his head, giving up. Although Dean was twenty-five, sometimes he really acted like a child.

''Where's Juliet?'' Sam asked, not seeing her around.

''At work.''

Sam raised an eyebrow. ''How do you know that?''

''I dropped her off.''

''Dean...''

There was a warning tone in Sam's voice, seeing through Dean's plan. This was one of the reason why Sam didn't want to let Dean in last night. Juliet had everything to please the elder Winchester, it was easily predictable that she'd fall into his target sight.

''Relax. I just wanted some pie.''

''Just some pie?'' Sam scoffed. ''That's bullshit. I know what you're doing and I won't let you.''

Dean played innocent. ''I'm not doing anything...'' he defended.

Sam tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow. ''She has a boyfriend.''

''Did that ever stop me before?'' Dean responded with a smirk, causing Sam to let out an exhausted sigh.

''Please, she's my friend and has enough on her plate at the moment. Find another girl to put in your bed. The campus is full.''

.

Later into the evening, Sam left for his study group, which left Dean to his own.

He watched an old western and then got bored and decided to put on his jacket and go out. The apartment was five minutes from Campus, there must be something interesting to do around here, right? Some bars...or even strip clubs?

As he was sliding his arms through the sleeves of his leather jacket, he heard the twist of a door handle, following by a creaking as the door was pushed open.

''Sam? It's me. Sorry I didn't call you back, my phone was dead and-''

''He's not here.''

''Dean.'' Juliet's lips turned into a smile, seeing him. ''Hi! I didn't know you were still here.''

Her ginger hair were pulled into a messy top knot and her work uniform was unbuttoned at the top. Either she was feeling hot or needed more tip.

''Almost missed me though. I was about to go out.''

.

They drove around in Dean's precious Impala and later pulled to a bar that was off campus, neither of them feeling for some crazy partying and dancing tonight. The place had a classic, old vibe to it and Dean loved it.

The last time he went out with Sam, they went to a more college bar and...let's say it wasn't Dean's vibe. And, neither was it Sam's. He's more of a library and hipster café person. No offence.

They even had a pool table and Dean was anticipating the moment he'd teach Juliet how to play, using his pool skills to impress her, but tables turned when she picked up the cue and he was the one who was impressed. She could play.

Dean reached for his glass of whiskey, taking a sip. ''I have to admit, I'm impressed. Most girls can't hit a ball on their first night, let alone score three in a row.''

''My father used to have one in our basement,'' Juliet explained proudly, taking another shot but missing the hole, hitting the border instead. ''Your turn.''

She had two balls left and Dean had three, it was close.

Dean picked his cue and bent, visioning his shoot and succeeding, pocketing the blue ball. ''Yes!'' he whistled, a fierce grin on his lips. ''We're even now.''

Juliet passed in front of Dean and smirked, placing herself on the right side of the table and shooting. She hit the orange ball and brushed Dean's red on.

''Where did your lucky hand go? You missed your last two shots,'' Dean teased with an amused smirk.

Rolling her eyes, Juliet deposed her cue on the nearby table where their drinks were, downing the last of her beer. ''I'm gonna get another beer. Don't cheat!'' she warned, pointing an accusing finger at Dean.

''Don't need to. I'm confident about my skills.''

''Afraid to get your ass kicked by a girl, uh?'' the redhead taunted.

Dean laughed as he watched her leave, studying the table before going in for his shot. He poached himself and was tempted to pull the white ball out while Juliet was gone, but didn't.

Glancing ahead in the bar's direction, Dean spotted the redhead waiting and laughing at the old barman's failed attempt to flirt.

Since they had arrived, the man hadn't stopped staring at Juliet which irritated Dean. As the bar's owner, he should have some respect for his clients - more so woman.

The man handed Juliet her beer and, just as she made her way back to Dean, her phone started vibrating on the table right next to Dean's glass, the same guy's name from this morning flashing.

''Still haven't called him back, I see,'' Dean pointed, nodding at the phone.

Dean's remark had caught her off guard and caused her to panic a little for some unknown reason.

Quickly, Juliet grabbed the device and pressed the red button. ''That's none of your business,'' she bit back, slipping it in her back pocket.

By the tone she was using, Dean rapidly understood that her boyfriend wasn't a part of her life that she felt comfortable sharing with him - and, he respected that. After all, they've known each other for less than twelve hours.

When they returned to their pool game, the blond noticed that the atmosphere between them has shifted. Juliet was keeping to herself and acting more closed off and Dean knew that it was his fault.

''Hey...'' Dean started with a soft voice. He wasn't an expert in apologies - he never apologies -, therefore, he didn't quite knowing what to say. ''I didn't mean to pry, I just- It was there and-'' He sighed, stumbling over his words as he attempted to explain himself. ''Look, I don't know why you refuse to take his calls, but if you can't see yourself forgiving him for whatever he's done or said... You deserve better than this asshole.''

[devildom-dedicated-daydreams]

Cheating Bastard and Puppy Brother (Cheater!Lucifer x Reader x Mammon) Part 4

Part 3

WARNING: Offensive language, sexual themes, dubcon

Diavolo had thousands of request forms to oversee and approve for the upcoming school festival, he called over Lucifer to help him segregate the doable from the impractical, but while Diavolo already finished half of his share, Lucifer was only on his seventeenth request form. He kept glancing over his D.D.D. resting on the corner of the table, which was odd, Diavolo thought, because Lucifer usually kept his device on silent and tucked away in his pocket. 

Diavolo called him but Lucifer didn’t respond.

“Lucifer,” he repeated. Again, it was like Lucifer was deaf.

Diavolo sighed and then snapped his fingers, sparking red lights in front of his aide.

Lucifer drew back in surprise, almost shifting into his demon form before calming down and facing Diavolo. He cleared his throat, “Did you need something?”

“No, but it seems like you’re preoccupied. Too preoccupied to do your work,” coming from Diavolo, the words weren’t meant to reprimand but to console. It has been years since he has seen Lucifer stressed to the point he couldn’t do his work.

“Maybe you should take a break, Lucifer. Finish the paperwork tomorrow,” Diavolo suggested. He may be the Crown Prince of Hell but even demons valued friendship.

Lucifer was going to decline but then his D.D.D. buzzed. Not wanting to appear too eager, he gracefully gathered the remaining paperwork and sorted them in the rightful drawer before bowing to Diavolo and leaving with his phone.

Once he was out of the office, Lucifer checked the new message but was disappointed that the sender wasn’t who he was expecting.

He opened Asmodeus’ message, thinking that it was yet another complaint about one of their brothers stealing his beauty products, but was surprised to see that it was a link to the campus newspaper’s website.

His D.D.D. was almost obliterated when he read the headlines:

[RAD DEMON AND HUMAN EXCHANGE STUDENT DATING!?]

Beneath the bold text was a picture of Mammon and you eating dinner at a human-food restaurant. When you dated Lucifer, he made it clear that he didn’t want to make the relationship public and Asmodeus’ flirtation with every living being (including you and fellow human, Solomon) did not count as dating, so this was the news of the century.

Lucifer didn’t understand. Were you doing this on purpose? Were you trying to get on his nerves?

He thinks back to that fateful night at that restaurant and wonders when everything went to hell.

He ran a hand through his hair and marched out of the academy. He needed to talk to you, and he was going to shove Mammon into a freezer for what he did.

***

Lamia checked the comments on the discussion board beneath the news article. Demons made fun of humans for being too nosey and judgmental but her species was just as bad. Harsh criticisms on both Mammon and that human garbage flew in one after another.

The True Pazuzu: Did that moron brother officially lose it?

I Am Roth: An idiot demon and a human -- they’re perfect for each other!

Hari_ng_Aswang: I can’t believe that human had the audacity to seduce one of the avatars. What a slut!

rosemarysbabe: What’s more shocking is that Mammon actually fell for her.

DwendeBoi: @rosemarysbabe How could you possibly know if Mammon actually likes her? She could just be a plaything for all we know!

Mammon’sClubPresident: @DwendeBoi That’s right, no one deserves Mammon but me!

Lamia wondered if this piece of news reached Lucifer. Surely, this coupled with that one, glorious night she and Lucifer shared should finally end his relationship with his human whore. She has had her fair share of human flesh, often breaking marriages and sometimes even tempting men of faith away from their God.

She chuckled and thought back to that night …

*

Lucifer tugged on his tie and breathed. Tonight was supposed to be a very personal, very special occasion but before he could go home and celebrate with you, he had to deal with Devildom’s entertainment industry.

He was Diavolo’s proxy in this pseudo-formal gathering. Pseudo-formal because this party had nothing to do with Devildom politics and everything about rising stars finding potential benefactors. Asmodeus would’ve fit right in with this crowd, Lucifer thought.

He glanced at his pocket watch. The party was supposed to end two hours ago and he should’ve been back at the House of Lamentation giving you your one-year-anniversary present.

While he debated with himself whether to stay or not, a familiar figure slithered towards his side. Lamia wore a slinky silver dress that was treading between sinful and tasteful, a human man and even the average demon would sell his soul for a single night with her. But Lucifer was immune to her so-called charms. The only creature that could tempt him was you.

To her every attempt at conversation, he merely smiled politely or nodded tersely. Sometimes he gave no reaction at all, finding the desserts on the buffet table more interesting.

Lamia, the rising star of Devildom’s film industry, did not take too kindly to being ignored. She’s never been one to chase after her partners (it was always the opposite) but she has always been fascinated by the seven brothers, especially the oldest. The fame and glory of having him would secure her position as a celebrity. She only came to this stupid party because she heard he would be coming as the royal family’s representative. But now he’s like this?

Throwing caution to the wind, she decided to up the ante and tried to press herself against him as she spoke. “Hey, Lucifer … I’m actually feeling a little lonely, would you perhaps -- ”

Lucifer gracefully stepped away before they could touch and she almost stumbled. He cleared his throat, “I beg your pardon, I think it would be best if we don’t start any rumors by acting like we’re close friends.” He wore his practised smile but his tone was firm. He then turned around and went to the balcony.

Lamia was left on her own, clenching her hands tightly and cheeks hot-red from anger and embarrassment. Suddenly, one of her competitors approached her, snickering.

“Don’t even bother. Lucifer never pays anybody attention, especially now that he has that human for a lover.”

Hearing this made Lamia a hundred times more bitter. She bit her cheek so hard she drew blood, but then she quickly composed herself and gave her rival a sneaky smile. “We’ll see about that,” she declared before turning on her heels and approaching the buffet table.

She reached into her shell-shaped bag and pulled out a small glass vial. It was a little gift from a witch fan of hers, the girl was not her type but she had talent, particularly with aphrodisiacs and Lamia asked for this special brew just for tonight. Just for Lucifer. She didn’t actually think she had to use it but it’s a good thing she kept it in her purse.

She poured all the contents in a single glass of blood-spiced wine. She then picked up a glass of crystal water and then followed Lucifer to the balcony.

“I want to apologize for my earlier behavior,” she said, handing him the potion-laced wine.

Lucifer glanced away from his D.D.D., gave her a small smile and took the wine.

“I know we just met and I’ve made a terrible impression on you so I thought we could start again.”

He nodded, but she caught his eyes when they ever-so-slightly rolled towards his D.D.D.

He was definitely distracted.

Lamia raised her own glass, “To new beginnings.”

*

Lamia grinned. With this, she can kick Mammon out of the entertainment business and get Lucifer for herself.

Part 5

EDIT: Lucifer didn’t cheat. Lamia tricked him using an aphrodisiac, i.e. she raped him. Now, I don’t want to get too pedantic or political because that’s not what this blog is for, but I will like to clarify that non-consensual sex is never okay. I don’t want you guys to think that just because Lucifer more or less takes the incident in stride that I take female-on-male rape lightly in real life. Do remember what this fanfic is truly about (for angst-inducing entertainment involving two demon brothers and not a sociological or political commentary) and that it is literally about thousand-year-old demons.  

[emu-lumberjack]

Don’t answer the phone tired part 4

Time to plan some revenge, plus its time to find out how they met (Partly)

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

Hello All I decided to write part 4 before work and edit after. the pig latin at the start just translate to “Nix on the identity talk” for those who don’t know piglatin. also I hope y’all like it I decided to stop it where I did for slight evilness. (Sorry not sorry.) 

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5

Ixnay on the dentityiway alktay. I have another idea to tell them that.

Damian typed to Marinette as they walked into the restaurant. He felt his phone vibrate and looked to see Marinette's responding message

Chat, Ryuko, and Viperion have to be involved, and no one gets seriously maimed.  

Deal.

Lunch went smoothly, until of course Dick asked about how they met. Marinette took a moment then said “Damian and I made a bet that if Damian won in a video game we would go prank Lila if I won then they’d go have some fun with a water balloon fight to blow off steam.” Not super far off from the truth, just missing a few key facts.

“It was a bad day for both of us. Lila was being Lila, and we hadn’t played that fighting game yet. Needless to say she was a lot better than I expected.” Damian finished her tale.

“I guess I’ll have to play you sometimes, I’m currently undefeated at the manor.” Jason said through a mouthful of rice.

“I guess so.” She said. Anyone else would think of her tone of voice as soft but Damian knew that voice, it was the innocent voice she used when she wanted people to underestimate her. He looked forward to the prospect of watching Todd fail miserably. Marinette’s phone started going off, she looked at and answered. “Yeah Adrien.” Damian couldn’t make out what he said but it was enough to startle Marinette. “Crap I completely spaced. I was caught up at lunch, can you stall Madame Bustier for me? I swear I’ll be there soon.” she shoved her phone in her bag while leaping out of her seat. “Thank you guys lovely meeting you. Let me know how much I owe you for lunch later.” With that she was out the door.

“We’re not having her pay us back. Right?” Tim asked.

“Definitely not. It’s on me this time.” Dick responded. “Also Bruce asked all of us to check up on the Wayne enterprises building while we’re here. Let’s head over after we finish up here.” A chorus of agreement followed.

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

After the trip to the Paris office the four bats went back to Damians residence. Damian secluded himself in his room taking that over talking with his brothers, plus he had to finish his plan for tonight, he’d tell Marinette the rest of it after she got out of school. He’d been at it for a couple of hours when a knock at his bedroom door tore him away from his work.

“What.” he said curtly annoyed at being interrupted. Jason poked his head through the door, he looked tired.

“Nice to see your still alive demon spawn, we hadn’t seen you in a few hours. Anyway Dick went to the store, and Tim and I are gonna crash. Actually Tim’s already crashed on the couch and I’m about to follow. Wanted to let you know in case you needed something.”

“Yeah yeah I’ll wake you up if I do.”

“Yeah that was actually my warning. Wake us up and you will get a fist to the face, fancy ninja skills or not.” Jason held his fist up for emphasis, Damian just laughed.

“Sure Todd, if you can catch me you can hit me.”

“Wow that Marinette really has loosened you up, before I don’t even think you’d respond to me.” he paused for a second, “oh speaking of which did I mention she’s at the door?”

“You could lead with that!” Damian said, throwing on his sweatshirt. He scooped up his notebook and a pair of shoes. He shoved his notebook in his messenger bag and started hopping on one foot down the hall trying to put his shoe on and get to the door as fast as possible. That was until he lost his balance and planted face first into the rug, notebook landing like a tent on top of his head. He lifted it up slightly to see Marinette trying to stifle a laugh and failing, miserably. The Kwamii at her side no doubt doing the exact same.

“You’re welcome!” Jason called from Damians room.

“I’m gonna kill him.” A very red Damian muttered.

“Oh don’t do that just yet, we have to plan tonight don’t we. anyway he’ll get his due tomorrow when I play him.” She was still smiling as she offered a hand to Damian to help him up, he could forget sometimes how ruthless she could be behind the sweet smile, he liked it sometimes.

“Yeah you’re right, anyway ready to head out? Are we doing Andre’s?”

“Sure we can meet the others in the park. Also is your brother ok, because it looks like he’s about to fall off the couch.” Damian looked over to see Tim’s sleeping head practically touching the floor, with his feet still laying horizontal. Damian gave him five minutes before crashing onto the floor.

“He’ll be fine, lets go.” The two walked out of the residence hand in hand.

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

“Everyone clear on the plan?” Damian asked, it was a couple hours after he and Marinette had left the apartment. The ice cream they got from Andre was long gone, and the sun was setting.

“I mean it sounds simple enough, my question is what you want me to do?” Luka said from the corner still strumming his guitar.

“If you could use your lyre for ominous music when we start, that would be perfect to freak Greyson out. He may not be religious but he still believes in ghosts. Also in case they ever catch on before we get to do the rest of it you can use second chance and we can do it again.”

“Sounds good, and I have just the song.” Luka may be a kind kid but he wasn’t above pranks on siblings, especially if it was for a friend.

“So when do we start?” Kagami was pretending to study while she talked to them over phone, her mother wouldn’t let her meet up with them.

“Same question over here!” Adrien was simultaneously stuck in his room so Marinette had him pulled up on videochat.

“After sundown, think you two can sneak out by then?” Damian responded.

“How bout ten that when my mom is asleep and I can sneak out even easier.”

Kagami offered.

“Sounds good to me if it is for everyone else.” A chorus of yeahs confirmed the ten time. “Perfect Kagami, Adrien see you then.” With that Damian and Marinette hung up their respective phones.

“I’ve gotta go get some homework done before then, so I’ll see the two of you at ten too.” Luka  got up and put his guitar in its case, which he then slung over his back. He grabbed his bike handles and started walking it out of the park.

“We’ll see you then Luka, oh say hi to your mom for me, and tell her I’ll have those pastries to her by next Tuesday!” Marinette called to him. He was already halfway out of the park so she had to shout a little louder.

“Will do!” he called back. Marinette and Damian waved bye as he disappeared around the corner.

“So Dames, what do you want to do now?” she turned to him.

“I don’t know but we’ve got a couple hours to kill, you have any ideas?”

“I have one.” She said slyly, he looked at her face to see mischief in her bluebell eyes and a smile on her lips.

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

Game Over. Player 1 wins.

It was their 7th game and Marinette had wiped the deck with Damian every time. He got maybe two kills over all the games. The duo were killing time in Marinette’s room and decided to play some video games.

“Well that was a fun game, play again?” She said setting her controller down and stretching her arms up. Damian had gotten slightly more use to being so thoroughly crushed, so he only gaped for a minute rather than everyone else’s 15 minute long gaping session.

“Mari I love you, but I don’t think I can lose to you again.”

“Come on you might win the next one.” She said lightly.

“Mari don’t tease me it’s unbecoming of you.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not fun!” a buzz from her phone stopped her from saying another thing to annoy him.

Where are you guys, it’s already ten -Adrien

Sorry was beating the ice prince in video games. Be there soon. -Marinette

“You ready to blow off some steam, ten o’clock is upon us.” she gave a mock bow towards Damian sticking with her Ice Prince theme from the text.

“If you cut it with the royalty shtick I’ll even buy you some new fabric afterwards.” “Hmmmmm tempting but unlikely to happen.”

“I figured, but thought I’d try.” he held out an arm to her, “then are you ready to go mess with my brother's princess?”

“Let’s suit up.” She grabbed his hand, their excitement palpable.

“This will be fun.”

tag list: @ur-average-reader  @k-laconia-bug1 @smolplantmum @dast218 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @acoursedprophetwithasmothie @g-arya @loysydark @mewwitch @itsemeanne @hauntedstudent99 @pawsitivelymiraculous @clumsy-owl-4178 @shippernaturalsanderspjoandscifi @purplesundaze @zotinha456 @t1dwarrior-of-earth @chocolateherringtacofan @abrx2002 

[chubbyreaderwriter]

Matchmaker

Mycroft Holmes x Chubby/Plus Size Reader

Prompt:  Could you write a one-shot where the reader is a dectective in Scotland yard, who met sherlock for the first time recently and sherlock still knowing that his brother is lonely decides that she would be a perfect fit for him and tries to set her and mycroft up... Basically I'm looking for a sherlock plays matchmaker.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: none? 

Masterlist 

“So dead man on the floor, house ransacked, what do you think?...Sherlock? Sherlock!” Said man jumped out of his trance and turned to face Lestrade who was looking at him with frustration, “Well?” Sherlock rolled his eyes, “Come on Garret, this is easy even for you, wedding ring missing from the finger, seemingly half the possessions gone, absence of any pictures. It was the wife if you couldn’t see that already. Now enough about that, who’s she?” Greg sighed and rubbed his face with his hand before looking over to where Sherlock was facing, “Detective (L/N)? What about her?” 

Sherlock said nothing, just observed you and Greg looked at John next to him. The former soldier just shrugged, “I don’t question it anymore Greg, I’m sorry.” Greg looked at Sherlock, then you, then back to Sherlock, “You like her or summit?” Sherlock hummed in approval, “Not for me.” John chuckled from how confusing his friend was being but like he said, he didn’t question it. 

Without a word of warning, Sherlock made his way over to you, “Hi, I have a proposition for you which I have no doubt you’d be interested in. I would like to have you accompany a friend of mine to an evening meal. Judging by the past few failed relationships, you don’t like being lonely, even if you know you’re not compatible. But you’ve been making more of an effort in your appearance lately which can only mean you’re looking for another relationship.” You chuckled to yourself, “And you must be Sherlock. Given what people say about you, the last thing I expected you to be doing was setting me up on a date.” 

Sherlock huffed impatiently, “Yes yes, now will you go on the date or not?” He clasped his hands together, a silent plead for you to accept. You thought it over for a few moments, could it really hurt to try it out? And you doubted someone who called themselves a detective would actively put you in danger so what was the harm? Nodding your head, “Okay fine, but you owe me.” Sherlock scoffed but shook your hand, “Deal, here’s your phone back, I’ll text you with the details.” You were shocked but mostly confused when Sherlock gave you your phone back, when did he take it from you? You weren’t really mad at him though, he had given you something to be excited about. 

It had been a while since you had any excuse to dress up for an occasion and Sherlock had just presented it to you on a silver platter. Normally, you wouldn’t agree to this kind of thing but it had been difficult to date because of your new job now, being a detective was a turn off for most men, it seemed like. 

. . .

“A what?” Sherlock rolled his eyes at his older brother, “A date, I know it’s been a while but you must remember what a date is.” Mycroft let out a sigh of frustration, “And what makes you think you can meddle with my love life like this?” Sherlock looked at Mycroft, “Oh get over yourself, you’re lonely and you know it, I’m just trying to help. Maybe then you won’t be so...you.” Mycroft glared at Sherlock, “Listen brother mine, how many times do I have to tell you that I am not lonely. I do not need you to be playing matchmaker for me, if I wanted to be in a relationship, I could easily go out and find myself one.” 

Sherlock accidentally snorted from holding back a laugh, “You really think so?” At the sight of his brother’s anger, Sherlock calmed down, “Just go on the date, you’ll thank me later, she’s lovely.” Mycroft gritted his teeth, “Who is ‘she’?” Sherlock texted his brother a picture of you that he had taken from your Facebook profile, “Her name is (Y/N) (L/N) and she works with Graham.” Mycroft frowned, “Who is Graham?” Sherlock looked down at his phone as he started flicking through twitter, “Oh you know Graham, Scotland Yard, grey hair, could stand to lose a few pounds.” Mycroft leaned back in his chair, “You mean Greg Lestrade.” Sherlock nodded, “That’s what I said.” 

Sherlock turned and left his brother’s office, but Mycroft shouted after him, “Where am I supposed to be going?!” He didn’t hear a response but his phone vibrated to show a text from Sherlock with the time and address. He sighed as he rubbed his face with his hand, why did he have a feeling he was going to regret this? Mycroft was tempted to just refuse to go on the date to annoy his brother but as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was lonely and a little companionship might be nice for once. Spending each night alone in his large, empty house was getting rather tiring over time. 

. . . 

You had been told to dress ‘fancy’ so you had worn your best dress in your closet, a long sleeved, off the shoulder light pink knee length dress that flattered your body by making your waist seem smaller to give you more of an hourglass shape. You had your hair styled just how you liked it and you had decided to wear heels for this date because you didn’t want to risk seeming under-dressed and you didn’t have any flats that would match the dress. You had a small clutch that had your purse, some makeup and perfume in, as well as your keys. 

You had taken a taxi to the address Sherlock had given and you were not surprised to see a very fancy restaurant, one that looked more intimidating than anything else. You weren’t sure what to do but luckily as you were stood staring at the building, you heard someone clear their throat next to you. You turned to see a man dressed in a suit and had an umbrella with them? It hadn’t been raining but you decided not to question it. You smiled at them, “Hello,” 

Mycroft had been a little taken aback when he saw you, you almost seemed too good to be true. He was never someone who had much preference for looks, but you were just so beautiful. He could tell by the look on your face that you had never been here before and were nervous, symptoms of a blind date he presumed. He walked over to you and cleared his throat to get your attention and when you smiled at him, he almost forgot what to say, you had such a captivating smile. When you started to look weary of him, he realised he actually had to say something to you, “My apologies, I don’t suppose you’re here because of Sherlock?” Your shoulders dropped slightly in relief, “Yes I am, are you my date for this evening?” 

Mycroft nodded in agreement and held out his arm for you to take. While the date wasn’t his idea, he was still going to be a gentleman. Your nerves started again when you walked inside the building, it was all so elegant and posh and you felt really out of place in here. You bit your bottom lip as you looked around, half listening to your date talk to the hostess. It was then that you realised you didn’t know his name yet. When the two of you were taken to a table, you cleared your throat, “I’m (Y/N) by the way, it’s nice to meet you,” Mycroft hummed, “Likewise, I’m Mycroft.” Your eyes widened a little, “Mycroft? That’s an unusual name isn’t it? I like it though.” 

Mycroft studied over you, trying to pick up on all the deductions he could about you but he seemed to have a little trouble concentrating and everything was a bit of a blur. You leaned forward a little, “So how do you know Sherlock?” Mycroft straightened in his seat, “He’s my little brother?” Mycroft could see the amusement in your face, “Really? What’s it like having a genius for a brother?” Mycroft scoffed, “I wouldn’t say he’s a genius, I’ve always considered myself the smartest between us.” You could help but chuckle a little to yourself and when you saw Mycroft’s confused and partially offended expression, you explained yourself, “If you were really that smart, you would’ve noticed that I’d rather have this date anywhere but here. I’m not made for fine dining.” 

Normally, this would have annoyed Mycroft, not being able to see something as obvious as this. But you intrigued him so he was more focused on learning more about you. He waited until there was the least amount of people watching and then grabbed your hand, leading you outside of the restaurant, “Where do you propose we go now?” You turned to him and looked at him with a curious expression, “You want to go watch a movie together?” Mycroft hummed, “It depends on the types of movies you prefer.” You smiled, “I like old movies.” “Hm, then I believe I have something to show you.” And that was how you found yourself being driven to Mycroft’s house.

It was weird that you didn’t feel uncomfortable around him, you didn’t feel scared of him or felt any bad vibes from him. He was surprised to feel oddly at ease with you as well, he felt like he could tell you anything despite having known each other for a very limited time. When you arrived at Mycroft’s house, you were taken back by the size of it, “My god, are you some kind of secret billionaire? Where do you work?” You giggled to yourself as you looked around the walls and ceilings, taking it all in. Mycroft had disappeared into the kitchen for a small while but could hear you talking as he came back with wine and two glasses, “I work for the British government.” 

You stopped in your awe, “Are you serious? That’s pretty cool.” Mycroft felt a sudden burst of pride at how easily you were impressed with him. He smirked to himself, “I suppose so, may I ask you a question?” You gladly took the glass of wine from his hand and took a drink, “Go ahead,” “What were your first impressions of me?” You walked closer to Mycroft, “Well, I thought you looked a little fancy and uptight and I still do, but you looked like a man who was lonely in my opinion. Very cute though.” You winked at him over the rim of your glass as you took another drink and Mycroft for once, didn’t have anything to say. 

You smiled at him, “Go on then, what did you think of me?” Mycroft cleared his throat and looked down at his own glass of wine, “I thought you looked beautiful, a little intimidated but someone who wasn’t afraid.” You blushed from his words and the two of you were lost in a moment between the two of you just looking into each other’s eyes. You hadn’t realised the two of you started to get closer until he was almost touching you. You cleared your throat, “So what was it you wanted to show me?” 

It was like the two of you were pulled out of a trance as Mycroft blinked and moved back one step to create some distance between the two of you. He walked down the corridor to lead you into his ‘theater room’ which looked like a small cinema in your opinion. You were in total awe of this man and his house, it was so big and fancy you were almost scared. Mycroft had you sit in a seat next to him when your eyes caught the projector, “I haven’t seen one of those in absolutely ages, my parents used to have one when I was a kid.” Mycroft smiled briefly at you as he set it up, your attention being directed in front of you when the light flashed on, illuminating the dark room. 

You had been excited to watch the movie and you had to stop yourself from laughing when you saw Mycroft mouthing the words along with the actors out of the corner of your eye. You were having such a good time, you almost didn’t want it to end. It was halfway through the movie that ,Mycroft put his hand up on the chair arm and didn’t realise your hand was already there until he felt it underneath his own. He was a little embarrassed about it and wasn’t sure what to do, should he keep it there? Should he take it away? Just as he was about to pull his hand away, he felt your fingers slowly wrap around his own, holding his hand. Mycroft felt his heart beat rising as he in turn held your hand and you smiled to yourself, only half focusing on the movie now. 

It was disappointing when the projector stopped as the movie was over, that meant you had to let go of Mycroft’s hand while he got up to turn off the device. You stood up and stretched, the chair had been comfy but it was awkward to sit in the same position for a long time. You smiled at Mycroft after you checked your phone to see the time, “It’s getting late, I suppose I should head home.” Mycroft was unable to hide his disappointment in your words, but it was going to happen sooner or later. He was surprised to see how close he felt with you after knowing you for so little time. 

Mycroft called his driver to take you home, wanting to ensure that you got home safely. “Are you sure? I can just get a cab, it’s not too much trouble.” “Please, I insist on it,” You had begrudgingly accepted his offer and the two of you waited at his front door until the car pulled up. You turned to face Mycroft, “I had a wonderful time you know.” Mycroft nodded, “As did I,” You opened your mouth to say something the same time as Mycroft and you lightly chuckled, “Oh sorry, you first,” “No, please, I’d hate to interrupt.” You bit your lip before you asked, “Would you perhaps like to do this again sometime?” Mycroft had been hoping that’s what you were going to say, “It would be my pleasure.” 

You blushed a little and looked at him for a moment before standing up on the tips of your toes to kiss him on the cheek, he was a lot taller than you. Quickly, you turned around and walked over to get into the car, not looking at him until you were inside so he couldn’t see you through the tinted windows. You relaxed against the leather seats, letting out a deep breath. Your head had just touched the back of the seat when your phone buzzed. Curious to see who was texting you, you pulled it out of your clutch and read the notification on the lock screen. It simply read, “Had a nice date? - SH” You shook your head but grinned at the message before turning your phone off again, putting it back in your bag. What a weird day. 

[obxfics]

Choose Your Own Adventure: Pogue Style

summary: you and your brothers are tasked with looking after your baby cousin when things quickly go south. where will you choose to look for your cousin, and who will you run into?

pairing: reader x ?

word count: 1,089

beta’d by: @thatjohnd​ and @shawnssongs​ (thank you both so much!!) they’re both absolutely wonderful people and you should check our their writing!

The Dock The Kitchen

a/n: so this is something new i’m trying out. my indecisiveness couldn’t decide who to pair reader with so i just decided i would write four different versions and turn this into a sort of choose your own adventure fic. basically, at the end (once i’ve written the different versions and linked them) you pick a location which will link to a different pogue’s fic. i’ll link the fics up here but also at the end. i am so excited for this, and i hope y’all are too!

Being the youngest of three children, you didn’t really have any experience when it came to like... looking after kids. It wasn’t like there was any occasion for there to even be kids for you to look after. That is, until your dad’s younger brother got married and had kids of his own. And then suddenly you were like an older sibling. You were always looking after your younger cousins when they came to visit or when you went down to Florida to spend a couple weeks with your dad’s family. Out of all of your little cousins though, you had an especially soft spot for Jaime, the baby. Everyone doted on him, but he was like your baby so you would keep a close eye on him whenever he was around.

This year, his parents were celebrating a milestone anniversary, and therefore needed someone to look after the kids while they went on some cruise or something. Most of them would be at various summer camps anyway, so when they called up your parents, they assured you all that you would only be looking after Jaime. And to you and your brothers’ credit, all three of you took looking after Jaime very seriously. Most of the time, when your parents were working in the restaurant, y’all would have to take care of him. Feed him, change him, bathe him, entertain him. And you were happy to do it.

So when your parents told you, right as you and your brothers were heading out to surf, that they needed you to look after your cousin, the plans for the day were changed with only slight disappointment.

“I’m telling you right now you’re a hazard to children everywhere,” Christian snapped at Diego in the passenger seat.

“Wh-- kids fuckin’ love me.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you covered your cousin’s little ears. At six years old, he delighted in repeating everything you and your brothers said, and if you were being honest, the three of you rarely had any filters.

“There is no way in hell that your idea of letting Jaime sit on your surfboard would end up in anything but catastrophe!”

“I mean, it worked in Lilo and Stitch,” you said.

“See? y/n is on my side,” Diego smirked.

“They’re pointing out an example from an animated movie, dumbass. Bringing him to the country club to make fun of all the white golfers is much more child friendly,” Christian told him.

“Are we teaching him to be a bully though?” you asked.

“No, because golfers deserve to be bullied, just facts.”

“...That checks out.”

Jaime laughed when you made a face at him and wrinkled his nose as he attempted to touch it with his tongue. You ruffled his hair and grinned. Cute kids were your biggest weakness, not that you would let anyone know that. You and your brothers tended to keep to yourselves, which was only getting harder now that both of them were in college. You found yourself in a tentative friendship with Kiara Carrera, another outside at the “Kook Academy” as you liked to call your school. The two of you only really hung out at school, although you would occasionally text each other or wave when you saw each other around the island. You were pretty sure her friends didn’t like you though. So you tried to stay out of their hair, never pressing Kie to hang out with you when you knew she would rather be with her boys. It could get pretty lonely, especially during the school year when you didn’t have your brothers to keep you company, but you dealt with it. Better than trying to hang out with anyone else who lived in the figure eight, and anyone from the Cut automatically assumed you were like the rest of the Kooks. You couldn’t really blame them.

“Yo, is that Kie’s van?” Diego asked, stirring you from your thoughts.

You looked out the window as Christian parked to see the beat up Volkswagen Kie and her group drove around in. You smiled at the ‘eat the rich’ sticker on the back. While you hadn’t seen her in over a week, she’d texted you last night to tell you about something stupid JJ had done at John B’s place and how Pope was this close to actually smoking one of JJ’s joints. As much as you told yourself you were fine being alone, and as much as you knew the Pogues weren’t fond of you, you still couldn’t help but want to be a part of their group. At least just a little bit. And it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact you had a tiny crush on one of the Pogues. None at all.

“Shit guys, I gotta pee real quick,” you told them as you stopped and put Jaime down. “I’ll only be like a second.”

Your brothers waved you off, and so you ran into the nearest bathroom while they waited with your cousin. You always forgot how fucking nice everything was at the country club, and the bathrooms were no exception. There were little cups for mouthwash, as if that was something absolutely needed, but you had to admit it was kinda tempting. Like, it was provided for you, so why wouldn’t you use it? And now you realized why everyone on the Cut thought Kooks were pretentious, entitled assholes. You kind of were with your fancy bathrooms and mouthwash.

“Hey guys,” you greeted as you left the bathroom. “Sorry I took so long, I got distracted by the mouthwa-- where’s Jaime?”

Christian and Diego looked up from their phones in a panic to see your baby cousin wasn’t with them. Diego even looked at his empty hand as if he couldn’t believe he didn’t notice Jaime’s wasn’t holding it.

“What. The. Fuck. I left you guys for like two minutes max!”

“He’s a small child! They can slip away easily!” Diego argued, his voice cracking in distress. “He couldn’t have gotten far! He’s like three feet tall! His legs can’t cover much ground!”

“Just fucking split up!” Christian snapped.

You immediately bolted, thinking of the different places he could go. There was the dock because he loved boats, or the kitchen because he loved food, or the veranda because he liked looking at the pretty birds, or the computer lounge because he had discovered Club Penguin. Where would he be?

[switchbrainedholylime]

O, Canada

A small gift of Renga fic to @emmettspeakz

Reki laid on the floor awoken by the sun’s rays. He and Langa had just ended up having an impounti sleepover at his workshop since he stayed up until 3 in the morning fixing up their boards. The redhead looked over at Langa who muttered to himself in his sleep. 

“Oui, j'aimerais le pain au chocolat (Yes, I’d like the chocolate croissant). Oui, l'école va bien (Yes, school’s fine)...Papa, quand nous reverrons-nous? (Father, when will we meet again?)...Adieu,” Langa opened his eyes only to see a very confused Reki. “What’s wrong?” 

“You were just sayin’ some weird stuff in yer sleep.” Reki answered.  

“Oh, was I talking in French again? Sorry, I grew up in a resort town between Quebec City and Montreal, where there’s a lot of French-speakers. I speak French, English, and Japanese.” Langa yawned, “Sometimes I speak another language in my sleep.” 

“Really? That’s so cool.” Reki’s eyes glistened.   

“My adopted dad Oliver-”

“Wait, wait, hold on. You’re adopted? Since when?” Reki’s glistening eyes turned to confusion.  

“Yeah, haven’t you ever wondered why I don’t look like my parents?” Langa pointed to himself. “My biological dad gave me up to his two friends Oliver and my mom when I was...4? Yeah, that sounds right. He was really busy with work; he’s a UN representative for Canada and he felt it’d look bad on his part to have a bastard kid so he swept it under the rug. Though it might come out if I go through with Miya on competing in the Olympics in a few years.” 

“That sucks, I had no idea...,” Reki sighed, “Who am I kiddin’? I’m practically in the same boat. My dad works at a black company. The old man gets maybe four hours of sleep a week if he’s lucky. I never want to end up like him, just tied to an office chair.”

“What do you want to do?” Langa asked. 

“I don’t know. Skate, I guess.” Reki yawned.  

“Yeah, but even skilled skaters like Cherry and Joe have day jobs. Hell, even Adam does and he runs the circuit.” Langa brought up. 

“Man, don’t bring up that bastard’s name this early in the morning.” Reki groaned. “Besides, I got that job at the shop.”  

“We both know that’s not gonna pay the bills,” Langa pointed out. 

“True.” Reki sat up, “Our English teacher said the career survey’s due on Monday. Ugh, I still haven’t got a clue.”

“You’re pretty good with your hands and handling tools. You don’t want an office job, and I can’t blame you. Maybe technical school?” Langa suggested. 

“Joe mentioned that last week. He said he’d be glad to write a letter of recommendation for the trade school he went to, but I don’t know if I’d like to work in a kitchen.” Reki looked over at his tools. “Maybe a handyman? I’d probably like fixin’ things up a whole lot more than I would be at my dad’s place. Just thinking about being a boring salaryman makes me wanna puke. Dad always looks so miserable, like someone just yanked his soul out of his chest.” 

“So sort of what you looked like after skating with Adam?” Langa asked. “Except all of the time?”  

“Please don’t say that bastard’s name. It’s too early in the morning.” Reki moaned and rubbed his eyes. “Or ever say it,” 

Langa laughed lightly as Reki pouted. “Hey, I wasn’t joking!”

“I know.” Langa smiled and then planted a small kiss on Reki’s cheek. “My biological father and I meet up to have dinner once every six months. I only recently mentioned that I was dating you in a text and he told me he wants to meet you.” 

“I’ll need to brush up on my English then.” Reki sighed. 

“I’m sure Boyer-sensei will help.” 

-------------    

Their English teacher was a brunette American woman they called “Boyer-sensei”. She had a larger frame and was pale. She walked around collecting the career survey forms from her students. As usual, Reki was looking at his phone, texting with Langa about a new skate trick they saw on Instagram. 

“Reki Kyan. Langa Hasegawa.” Boyer-sensei looked down at the redhead and blue-haired skaters. “Do you have the forms I passed out last week? The student council wants them to be collected by tomorrow afternoon.” 

“Yeah,” The couple handed them to their English teacher. 

Boyer-sensei was genuinely shocked. “You never have your homework done.” 

“Are your standards really that low for us?” Langa appeared distraught. 

“Yes, they are.” Boyer stated firmly as she read Reki’s list. “A repairman...construction worker...hold on, are you really Reki Kyan? You’re not an Auton, are you?”

“What’s an Auton?” Reki asked. 

“It’s a monster from Dr. Who.” Langa explained. “They create replicas of humans. Do you not have Dr. Who available in Japan?”  

Reki was quiet for an awkward moment. He wasn’t sure. “Well, I figured it was a weird nerd reference.” 

“Anyway, Boyer-sensei, most skaters have day jobs. I’m NOT giving up skating anytime soon.” Reki grinned and winked over at Langa who smiled back. 

“I guess that makes sense. I-I just never thought the day would come where you have a single brain cell or atom of responsibility in your veins.” Boyer-sensei was floored. “The world really is ending.” 

------

A few weeks later, the day finally arrived where Reki would have to get into a decent pair of dress clothing for the first time since...ever. Cherry and Joe helped Reki pick out a traditional red yukata that didn’t feel trashy as his regular look but not so stuffy it made him visibly uncomfortable.

[SNOW (LANGA): Just got in his rental from the airport. I gave his coiffeur your address. We’re on our way.] 

[REKI: Cool. Waiting outside.]  

Reki stood at the edge of his driveway tapping his skateboard nervously. He tried to imagine what a fancy-ass version of Langa would look like in a suit with the UN logo.  

A vintage red BMW pulled up. He instantly recognized Langa who was in a iron pressed dress shirt and khakis. The coiffeur was a local man he recognized as a regular at S and the shop, but he was silent the entire time. 

Next to him was a man with Langa’s exact same hair, face, and height. The only difference the eye and hair color along with the fact that he wore glasses. He had blond hair and purple eyes. His dad didn’t look that old. He looked like he was in his early twenties. He was even more well-dressed than Langa and Reki combined. A satin beige suit, Italians handmade shoes, slightly wavy hair that smelled like fresh-brewed coffee.  

Shadow looks older than this guy. Reki blinked, his face full of confusion. Did he say father or brother? Reki was almost positive Langa said father, but how young was he when he had him? Two? 

Reki shook his head. Just don’t blow it, don’t sound like the moron you are in front of this fancy-dancy foreign guy. 

“Hey, Langa! Got a fancier ride than usual?” Reki greeted them with a smile. 

Langa blinked at his and the other man. “Yeah, you wanna get in.” 

The moment Reki got in there was an awkward silence. Reki sat in the middle of the two Canadians. The redhead had a million questions but the air in the backseat was so thick. 

 “So you smell like coffee.” Renga stated as Langa shake his head. “That’s a good thing. I usually smell like sweat and Mountain Dew. I actually took a shower today and brushed my teeth.” Reki smiled brightly. 

“Good, glad to know.” The diplomat smiled nervously. “My name’s Matthew Williams, PhD, Canadian UN diplomat.” 

“I’m Reki Kyan...I like to skate. I work part-time at this skate shop with Langa. We’ve been dating for...I think four months.” The redhead explained. 

“I’ve heard from Langa’s mother. Thanks for teaching Langa and being with him. So is there skate hotels you like to frequent?” Matthew asked. 

“Does the hospital count?” Reki asked. 

“I wouldn’t exactly give it five stars. Langa, has Japan been treating you well so far?” Matthew asked.  

“Yeah, most people are pretty nice. There’s no Tim Hortons, but I’ve gotten addicted to Ramen. Still would love a donut every now and then.” 

“That’s the place where they sell donuts instead of fries, right?” Reki looked over at his boyfriend. 

“Yeah,” Langa replied.

“Man that sounds delicious!” Reki smiled.

“So Langa, your mother told me that you and Reki had a falling out a month ago because of this shady person called Adam.” 

“Yeah, it was pretty bad.” 

“You know I’ve made people...disappear before for ignoring me, causing me trouble, just being an obnoxious brat of a twin brother who tormented me since 1867 until I couldn’t take it anymore.” Matthew stated with a mixture of innocence and sinstery. “I could make this ‘Adam’ person disappear, too. I’ve made good friends with Russia since we used to share a border back when Alaska was part of the Soviet Union.” 

“What do you mean ‘disappear’?” Reki’s eyes widened. “Wait, how old are you? You were around during the Cold War...that’s um, Langa?”

“Alaska was annexed by the US in the 1950s.” Langa stated. 

“Right, I knew that.” Reki nodded. “Uh, so wouldn’t that make you seventy or something? Like my grandpa’s seventy-three and he’s got really bad teeth.”

“Reki, why don’t you tell him about your career survey?” Langa smiled. 

“Oh, I’m planning on going to technical school.” 

“That’s nice.” 

There was an awkward silence between the trio. 

“So...are you going to charge me anything for making Adam ‘disappear’? You’re not going to get in trouble for that, are you?” Reki asked. 

“I have diplomatic immunity.” Matthew replied, “Laws don’t apply to me.” 

“Well, I won’t lie it is tempting.” Reki bit his lip. 

----------

1 week later 

Reki, Langa, Miya, Shadow, and Cherry relaxed at Joe’s Italian restaurant as the TV played the noontime news. 

“Politician Ainosuke Shindo has been found in his mansion dead since yesterday morning. It’s suspected that the killer used radioactive poison to taint his food. If you have any information, please contact the police.” The newswoman stood outside of Adam’s mansion that was taped off.

Everyone looked over at Reki and Langa. 

“What?” They stared around at their fellow skaters.