#Thanks God for this novel because of which i lost my last nerve in the tenth grade

[saturnnpie]

Аркаша Кирсанов 🤲🏼

[tossawary]

Because my brain does NOT stop even when I’m grounded, today my brain told me, “Hey, I figured out how to make a Hobbit Fusion AU work.” And I was like, “Great! We’re working, though.” And my brain was like, “I’ve figured out how to make it a Pre-Canon Canon Divergence AU for Moshang.”

And I was like, “...I’m listening.”

The Hobbit is another one of my Comfort Media and it got brought up when I was asking about that, but I was feeling kind of “eh” about mixing Tolkien mythology with SVSSS. I mean, the mental picture of Dwarf Mobei-Jun is extremely funny and Shang Qinghua would make a great hobbit! But that interpretation felt a little too direct for my AU tastes.

So, hm, now I have another potential Big Bang contender. My love for The Hobbit is very, VERY strong and looking at my current outline, I have to be like, “Yeah, this could be 50,000 words, no problem.”

It’s a very good outline!

-

After saving Mobei-Jun, Shang Qinghua bailed A.S.A.P. because he honestly thought Mobei-Jun was going to kill him. He psyched himself out of sticking around before Mobei-Jun woke up. Mobei-Jun didn’t get enough information to track Shang Qinghua down.

Shang Qinghua (who isn’t SQH because he isn’t the Peak Lord) decides that he can’t fucking take it anymore and bails from Cang Qiong Mountain Sect too. The System objects, but also falls into line when Airplane shrieks at it. Airplane is going to go become a humble merchant and inventor and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop him!

It turns out that Shang Qinghua’s presence or help was actually crucial to stop some Emperor of the Abyss from taking over the Ice Palace and the Northern Desert. Airplane is like, “Oh, yeah, I remember… offhandedly writing something about that happening in the past off-screen?” It was one of those things that he just threw in there because it sounded really cool, and it gave Mobei-Jun another reason to “owe” Shang Qinghua and not kill him immediately, but he never got to elaborate on it because he was too busy writing stallion novel bullshit.

So, borrowing the lore from my “Horns” one-shot, an extremely powerful Emperor of the Abyss escaped the Eternal Abyss. This is some devouring horror being from the depths of the abyss, which ate everything in its vicinity in the abyss itself and crawled into the Demon Realm to eat more things. The Emperor of the Abyss was attracted to Mobei-Jun’s father. They fought. Mobei-Jun’s father should have won, but didn’t, because he was too fucked up (thanks to his own hedonism or something) to fight properly. What an asshole.

Mobei-Jun’s father was killed and devoured by the Emperor of the Abyss, which has made it… exponentially powerful. It’s now… basically a calamity. The desolation that it leaves in its wake across the Northern Desert is unspeakable. Mobei-Jun and his family, their allied clans, and pretty much all demons in the Northern Desert have had to flee.

Mobei-Jun is currently essentially a “guest” of the Sha Clan. He’s homeless. He’s lost the power of his ancestors. He’s a “king” without a kingdom. It’s humiliating. He needs to kill the abyssal creature to retrieve: his title, his ancestors’ power, and his kingdom.

While working for other demon clans to support his family and people, Mobei-Jun crosses paths with Airplane. Airplane has become a relatively successful merchant and inventor, and he calls himself Shang Houhua. He lives a very comfortable life and does his best to ignore anything resembling the plot. He’s pretty successful at ignoring the plot.

Mobei-Jun is never in a good mood these days, but he’s especially pissed off to see that human who abandoned him all those years ago. Airplane tries to argue that Mobei-Jun told him to fuck off, but Mobei-Jun is too angry. Airplane makes lots of offers in an effort to get Mobei-Jun to spare his life, one of which ends up being a claim that he can help Mobei-Jun kill the Emperor of the Abyss and make him a king again. Mobei-Jun pauses, now even more pissed off than before, and Airplane just starts babbling desperately to save his own skin.

Mobei-Jun was already forming a company to take on a Quest for the Northern Desert - in the hopes of slaying the Emperor of the Abyss and retaking his homeland. Part of the issue has been that forming the company is difficult. Mobei-Jun wants people who are loyal to HIM and ONLY to him. He won’t owe anyone else anything or promise them pieces of his homeland.

(Airplane is like, “Bro, I don’t know if you can afford to be so picky, but okay.”)

So Mobei-Jun is like… “I still want to kill you, but fine, you can come on our quest and help us.”

So Airplane ends up on the Quest for the Northern Desert, led by his very angry future murderer the “king without a kingdom” Mobei-Jun, to fight the calamitous Emperor of the Abyss who killed Mobei-Jun’s father. Fuck.

Some details beyond this opening premise:

Airplane and Mobei-Jun fall in love over the course of the quest, obviously. They have their own hijinks like each chapter of The Hobbit (equivalents to the trolls, to Rivendell, to Goblintown, to Beorn, to Mirkwood, and to Laketown, etc.). 

Oh, damn, I just realized that making a pre-fall Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang the Beorn equivalents would be so fucking funny.

The Emperor of the Abyss is a horrifying Smaug equivalent. It can totally talk because Airplane having a conversation with a draconian horror sounds incredible. I would love to have Airplane outwit the Emperor of the Abyss in some fashion.

Mobei-Jun and Airplane somehow manage to successfully kill the Emperor of the Abyss together. Like, together. Probably using some plot device whipped up or some clever plan devised by Airplane on his feet. Mobei-Jun trusts Airplane at a crucial moment and it all works out. Airplane actually gets Mobei-Jun his kingdom back.

I’m tempted to just skip over the Ring and not having a Ring equivalent. BUT if I made this into a longfic instead of a one-shot, I would have a Ring equivalent (if it was a one-shot, I would ditch the Ring equivalent). I think I would make Xin Mo the One Ring equivalent. During the Goblintown equivalent event, Airplane falls either into the Eternal Abyss or into Bing-Ge’s dimension, where he proceeds to successfully take up Xin Mo because he knows the trick and portal himself out of the Eternal Abyss, or he proceeds to outwit Bing-Ge in some fashion and uses the Xin Mo sword to portal himself back to the right dimension.

So then Airplane is stuck with this super powerful sword that he doesn’t want to use again because he KNOWS that it will fuck him up. He KNOWS that it will FUCK HIM UP. So Airplane has to go through the rest of the quest ignoring the temptation of the Xin Mo sword that he is absolutely not supposed to have and can’t possibly let anyone else have.

(Oh, man, imagining the influence of Xin Mo giving Airplane extra horny thoughts about Mobei-Jun on the rest of the quest is very funny. Like, Airplane was already hot for Mobei-Jun, but now it’s worse and he might never have a normal thought ever again.)

Bagginshield Movie Hug when Airplane turns up again, for sure. Mobei-Jun thought he was dead. Mobei-Jun smiles and everything, until he remembers to frown again.

I’m feeling like I don’t want Airplane to use Xin Mo to help defeat the Emperor of the Abyss, but it makes sense if he does. Him not using it doesn’t make much sense. I do like the idea of Airplane dealing the killing blow and Mobei-Jun’s pride being hurt by Airplane being the one to kill it. I also like the idea of Mobei-Jun being a little smitten by Airplane just… loyally handing him his kingdom and restoring the power of his ancestors. I also really like the idea of Airplane just… not having some super powerful plot device up his sleeve on the quest.

Like, instead of Airplane’s Author God knowledge totally setting him up to deal with this thing no problem, Airplane had NO FUCKING PLAN when he set out with Mobei-Jun. He was talking completely out of his ass when he said he knew how to help Mobei-Jun. That this all worked out at all is almost completely due to luck and improvisation.

That feels MUCH more true to both Shang Qinghua and to Bilbo Baggins. Lucky lads of fast-talking, complaining, lying, not knowing what the fuck is really going on, thirsting after kings with tragic backstories, and somehow not dying despite winging it all the time.

Instead of goldsickness, Mobei-Jun is forced to deal with some side-effects of consuming the Emperor of the Abyss to regain the power of his ancestors. (Demon cannibalism rituals. Yeah.) He starts acting really scary and out-of-character and forceful, until Airplane loses his nerve and runs away. Maybe under the influence of the late Emperor of the Abyss, Mobei-Jun actually tries to kill him? I could see Mobei-Jun trying to kill Airplane for the Xin Mo sword which dealt the finishing blow on the Emperor of the Abyss.

(I need a better name for this thing. If I can’t come up with something that actually sounds good, I might just call it “The Calamity”, but that’s giving me BOTW vibes so I don’t like it. Maybe I’d call it “The Desolation” or something? Ehhhh, I don’t really like that either.)

I want to have a Battle of the Five Armies equivalent, if only so Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang can swoop in as benevolent helpers as the Beorn equivalents. Currently, I’m seeing three options. 1) The orc army equivalent are neighboring demon lords who want to strike while the new Mobei-Jun is getting established. 2) The orc army equivalent is Linguang-Jun trying to kill his nephew and take power at the last minute. 3) The orc army equivalent is Bing-Ge here with an army and he’s pissed off and wants his sword back.

On one hand, 1 and 2 would be SO MUCH EASIER to pull off. I could be really lazy about the whole thing. On the other hand, 3 would be much fresher (more surprising and links back to the Xin Mo element), more challenging and the idea of pre-fall Tianlang-Jun facing off with Bing-Ge delights me. Kick his ass, Tianlang-Jun!

(Su Xiyan gets involved? My brain says YES. Kick his ass, Su Xiyan!)

Also, I was sad about there being no Fili and Kili equivalents, because Mobei-Jun has no friends, and I’ll have to make up a company pretty much from scratch. (Sha Hualing is too young and Luo Binghe hasn’t been born yet.) BUT then I was like, “Where’s Linguang-Jun in all this?” And I would absolutely have Linguang-Jun be a part of Mobei-Jun’s Company. Instead of nephews, Mobei-Jun has a sketchy uncle who might be trying to kill him. Keeping Linguang-Jun out of it might be easier, but actually doing some character-building with him sounds fun and challenging, and I’d rather limit the number of OCs if possible.

Mobei-Jun manages to shake off the goldsickness equivalent somehow, probably through “the power of love” (and/or straight-up “dual cultivation” with Airplane?). Moshang makes up while Mobei-Jun is apparently mortally wounded from fighting Bing-Ge and Airplane thinks this is all his fault. But Mobei-Jun doesn’t die! It’s all good!  

It’d be pretty funny if there was a “Returning to the Shire” equivalent where Airplane leaves because he thinks Mobei-Jun hates him now and never wants to see him again. So then Mobei-Jun has to track his man down like, “Get back here and marry me. (Also I am so sorry for trying to kill you. Please forgive me. I hate myself so much for that.)”

And they all live happily ever after!

Holy shit, this wasn’t in Proud Immortal Demon Way.

[dilly-oh]

Trashy Romance Novel

    “Naruto, you frigging idiot,” Iruka began hotly, barging into the hospital room, “of all the stupid, brainless things you could have done, this is by far the-”

    He stopped. 

    The person lying in the small bed was definitely not Naruto. It was a grown-ass man with messy gray hair and a faded scar over one eye, the sterile white sheets pulled up over his nose, apparently sound asleep. Iruka stared at him for a long moment, dumbfounded, before it clicked. 

    Oh shit, he thought. This is the wrong room. I'm in the wrong room. I need to hurry up and leave before- 

    The stranger's eyes cracked open and he squinted up at Iruka in confusion.

    “...Who're you?” he croaked out. Iruka managed a rather articulate gurgle of dismay, frozen in sheer mortification. He considered the distance between him and the IV drip, wondering if he could dose the man back to unconsciousness before he could scream or buzz for a nurse. “Are those for me?” the man asked, sitting up in bed to regard the bouquet of flowers in Iruka's arms. He opened his mouth to disagree, but then the sheet slipped off the man's face, and Iruka suddenly thought giving him the flowers might not be such a bad idea. He definitely deserved a thank you after gifting him with...that. He didn't even protest as the alarmingly handsome stranger reached out and took the bundle of flowers, opening the card on top. 

    “You're a dumbass. Love, Iruka.” he read aloud, then looked up at Iruka, batting his eyes. “Aww, babe, you shouldn't have.”

    “Whoa whoa WHOA!” Iruka finally blurted out, his face burning half from embarrassment at the situation, half from the thinly-veiled flirting. “I'm sorry, sir, there's been a mistake. I'm in the wrong room and-”

    “You mean you aren't my doting husband I tragically forgot about due to amnesia and now you have to win back my love by passionately recreating the story of our romantic union?”

    “Excuse me, WHAT-”

    “Sorry, I've been reading trashy romance novels. They're the only books this hospital has. Can't blame me for trying.” The man shrugged, then reluctantly handed back the bouquet. “Who's the lucky person they're actually for? Must be someone real special if you're calling them a dumbass to their face.”

    “My kid brother,” Iruka explained with a sigh. “He's here with a head injury.”

    “Ouch.” The man winced in sympathy. “Poor kid.”

    “Not really. He head-butted a brick wall.” 

    “...May I ask why?”

    “Because his stupid boyfriend walked into it and he had to, and I quote, 'defend his honor'.” Iruka paused, looking the man up and down. Despite being a bit on the pale side, he looked perfectly fine, pun very much intended. It was almost unfair how well he pulled off the hospital gown (although Iruka would much rather be the one pulling it off, wink wink, nudge nudge). “So...what're you in for?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Was...was it the crappy romance novels? Did they rot your brain?”

    “I have an extremely rare, aggressive form of cancer with only two weeks left to live and the only cure is a kiss from my one true love...” The man swooned back onto the pillow and looked expectantly up at Iruka, who rolled his eyes. 

    “Yeah they definitely did-”

    “Alright you got me. Broke my leg.” He pulled the sheet off his lower half, revealing his legs, one of which was wrapped in a cast, propped up on some pillows. Several encouraging words from friends were scrawled on the white surface in marker, one of them a jarring green highlighter. It almost hurt Iruka's eyes to look at it. 

    “...How did you break it?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity. 

    “I heroically threw myself in front of a speeding car in order to save the life of my beloved-” 

    “Okay how did you really break it?”

    “Tripped chasing after my pug at the park,” the man admitted with a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. 

    “...Is the dog okay?” Iruka asked after a long pause.

    The stranger burst out laughing. It was a nice laugh, warm and contagious enough to elicit a chuckle out of Iruka, who was growing more and more intrigued. He couldn't deny the spark of attraction he felt for the other man, spontaneous as it was, and it seemed to be reciprocated. He didn't even know his name, but something about the man made Iruka want to know more about him. Maybe this was like some trashy romance novel, where the two would-be lovers met under unusual circumstances and fell instantly in-

    “Hey, Kakashi,” a man with short brown hair said, suddenly walking into the room, “I brought the next three volumes of your shitty porn series from the hospital library and a couple pairs of clean underwear, so you can stop fucking texting me the specific style and brand you want from home, you're so damn picky-” He stopped dead as he caught sight of Iruka, pausing for a beat, then glanced at the man in the bed, his eyes darting nervously between the two. “Umm...am I...interrupting something?”

    A cold pit of ice yawned open in Iruka's stomach. 

    Oh my GOD. Here he was, borderline flirting with some stranger in a random hospital room, when obviously the man already had a boyfriend and Iruka was just making a complete ass of himself. The flirting had probably been misinterpretation on his part anyway, and if not, the guy was a total dick. Either way, enough was enough. His face aflame with rage and shame, Iruka spun towards the door. 

    “I need to go.”

    “Hey, wait!” Kakashi or whatever his name was called after him. 

    Iruka was already out the door, ignoring the man's cries. Screw him, and screw Naruto, too. He was the cause of this whole mess. Iruka would just text him later. He was probably making out with Sasuke anyway and wouldn't even notice his brother hadn't popped in to visit. Iruka needed out of this hospital NOW. He turned towards the stairs, immediately got lost, and spent the next five minutes growing increasingly flustered as he stormed through the winding hallways, desperately searching for the exit. Why the fuck was the hospital so damn BIG-

    “Hey! Iruka! Hold up!”

    Iruka spun around to see Kakashi speeding towards him in a wheelchair, his boyfriend dutifully pushing him down the hallway at a dead run, IV dangling after him on its cord like a faithful dog. The wheelchair stopped with an audible squeal in front of him.

    “What- where did- did you steal that?!” Iruka hissed in outrage. 

    “Of course not, don't be silly,” Kakashi protested, sounding offended. “The guy it belongs to was asleep in his bed. I'm just borrowing it. I'll return it later. Anyway, Iruka-”

    “Were you flirting with me in there?” Iruka demanded, cutting him off. “Be honest.”

    “Abso-fucking-lutely,” Kakashi said without an ounce of remorse. “So can I have your number or what?” Iruka bristled. 

    “You're a piece of shit! I can't believe you, hitting on me like this right in front of your boyfriend! You have some nerve-”

    “Wait...boyfriend?” Kakashi cocked his head in confusion. “You mean Yams?”

    “The fuck do YAMS have to do with anything-”

    “Hi, that's me,” the short-haired man said, raising a hand. “Yamato, actually. 'Yams' to my friends. Which is what we are. Just...friends.” Iruka scowled at him suspiciously. 

    “Friends? Don't fuck with me. You brought him underwear-”

    “Really close friends,” Yamato reiterated. “Also, roommates. It's awful. I can't get away from him.” Iruka studied him for a moment, but couldn't spot any hint of deception. The man's almond-shaped eyes were surprisingly honest.

    “So you two...aren't dating?” he asked hesitantly. Yamato gave him a horrified look.

    “Dear God, NO. Kakashi is the WORST. He's lazy as hell, procrastinates til the last minute, is perpetually late to everything-”

    “You are a shit wingman-” Kakashi began. 

    “He needs to know what he's getting into,” Yamato snapped at him, then turned back to Iruka. “Seriously, though. You should run while you still can. There's hope for you.”

    “Don't listen to him,” Kakashi cut in. “I'm a fucking catch. Which is exactly why you should let your flaxen hair down, rip your shirt open to reveal your heaving bosom, and throw yourself into my arms-”

    “Will you cut that out?!” Iruka burst out impatiently. “Life is not a trashy romance novel.”

    “You sure about that?” Kakashi said, quirking an eyebrow. “Because I met you in a hospital through total coincidence. After really hitting it off, we had a misunderstanding brought on by miscommunication. Then I chased after you in a fucking wheelchair to declare my undying attraction to you. If that isn't a plot to a trashy romance novel, I don't know what the fuck is. At least it's not raining right now.”

    “I dunno, it might be drizzling,” Yamato said, glancing at a window.

    Iruka paused, considering.

    “I guess it...would make a pretty good book,” he admitted quietly. “The only thing is...I'm not sure what happens next.”

    “That part's for us to write,” Kakashi said, his tone eager. “Only we can complete the story.”

    “Aaaaand I'm going to puke,” Yamato stated. 

    “Sorry, we crossed the line from 'trashy' into 'sappy'.” Kakashi shook his head. “Anyway. Iruka. Please, I'm begging you. Let me sweep you off your feet. Just...give me a chance.”

    “I'll do you one better,” Iruka said after a pause. “I'll give you my number.” Stealing a marker from the nearby nurse's station, he bent and wrote his cell number on Kakashi's cast, then straightened and held out the bouquet. “Here, you can have these. The message works for you too, I guess.”

    Kakashi accepted the flowers with a laugh, taking an appreciative sniff. 

    “And now, I shall ride dramatically off into the sunset,” he said with complete seriousness. “Come, my valiant steed. Awaaaay!”

    “I will push you down the stairs,” Yamato grumbled as he spun the wheelchair around and started back down the hallway. Iruka watched them go with a fond smile on his face, giddy with anticipation. 

    He was eager to read the next few chapters in his life.

    Including the steamy bits. 

(Written for @kakairu-fest KakaIru Month 2021, Day Twelve Prompt: Hospitals)

[nevenabadr]

Sebastian Stan X Reader, Leather Love, Prologue

This is a prologue to Leather Love!

Note: English is not my first language.

Inspiration: this is inspired by:

· Bliss, a novel about a magical baker.

· A Dash of Magic, a novel about a magical family of bakers

Word count: 2003

Warnings: Romance, fluff, sweet words, and few explicit words

Enjoy reading and please comment with your feedback. 🖤

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

You and Sebastian met at the Met Ball, an annual fundraising gala for the benefit of the Metropolitan, and you were their choice for creating the patisserie masterpieces for the evening.

As for Sebastian, the gala was enjoyable till the moment he was running away from the press.

Also, you were running away from the pressure of catering for your foremost important event of the season.

At the calmest corner of the hotel. You sat calming yourself down speaking to yourself, "I am seven stars rated Baker. One of the best around the world."

Little did you know that someone was taking a few steps and heading to that same calming place.

You were so close when you noticed that man lighting a cigarette "want one?"

He smiled at you.

"You know, that could kill you." You frowned.

"Better than anxiety" he scrunched his nose.

Smocking was something you tried once or twice for fun but never thought of as a tool for calming your nerves.

"I am Y/N by the way."

"Sebastian" he extended a hand to shake yours

You did not rush to tell him you know him and his works. You are a fan, but you still respect that he is already anxious.

"Can I ask, what are you so anxious about?" You calmly asked.

"Too many cameras, I am used to them, but I needed a moment for myself too."

You smirked "A fellow introvert, are not you?"

"Maybe," he giggled and kept smocking, "I did not get your name?"

"Your/F&L/Name, please to meet you, Sebastian." You smiled softly and noticed stars in his eyes.

"Are not you the owner of Bliss, the antique-styled bakery café in New York?" His voice was jammed with excitement.

It surprised you to be personally recognised by a star. It is always the brand that gets the enthusiasm, not you.

"Yes, in the flesh," you shrugged.

He was excited as a child just found his favourite lost toy "I love your patisserie. I even treat myself from Bliss each Sunday."

You were excited that he likes what you serve. "Have you tried our coffee?"

He hesitated "I am a Starbucks guy, sorry."

You laugh "even I, a Starbucks girl, just don't tell my workers." You winked.

"Well, look, I should prepare my surprise for the evening."

The cigarette was almost finished, and the conversation was not over, so as you started walking away, he called you back "Y/A, can I ask you for a favour."

You turned, "anything, Sebastian,"

"Can I take a VIP tour? That special thing, for me, please." He asked with puppy eyes.

He seems to be still nervous about going into the crowd. He is in the sport because of his new PR company. Adding, his ex-girlfriend fame and breakup impact was hard, especially the buzz all over Tumblr. He could not be around the media at that moment.

"Alright, come along, but no cameras or sharing my secrets." You seriously ordered

Indeed, that VIP tour was in a crowded kitchen. Everyone is busy creating a piece of heaven.

"There you are," a young man ran to you. His face draws worrying emotions and anger.

"Frank, what's wrong?"

"It is 30 minutes to delivery."

Frank started walking by your side, describing something that was going wrong and you pointed "we have time"

It surprised Sebastian that Frank did not even notice him. There in the kitchen, you were the star to be followed and the boss to be obeyed.

"Sebastian, I need you to put on gloves and follow my lead"

It surprised him to take orders now

"Frank, you go being the rest of the cupcakes, I am preparing the icing myself."

As Frank left, you give Sebastian an explanation "my staff got something wrong, I have 30 minutes to icing 500 cupcakes."

"This is better than expected. I would love to help." His soothing voice calmed down your anxiety.

He took off his jacket. He looked stunning in everything, as you thought to yourself.

He was laughing and motivating everyone around him "coming people there is a Gala to conquer."

You were icing the side of the cupcake by side, forgetting how exhausting it was to do all of this work in a short time, yet the joy on his face made this worthwhile.

"I don't remember having this much fun in my life," he was icing a chocolate cupcake

"Are you sure this is your first time?" You said playfully

"I don't even know how to cook," he shrugged, "maybe, you can teach me."

The icing went well, but both of you stayed talking and he ignored the time

"Oh, look at the time, I have a to attend that dinner."

He was fixing his clothes and hair, running too fast out of the kitchen. "Thank you Y/A."

You wish for him to stay longer, as he made this chore easier for you, at least mentally.

As he was rushing out "can I book you for a private lesson? A date maybe?"

"I thought you would never ask." Giving him your private card and going back to your staff.

The next morning, he woke up thinking of how alive he felt around Y/A. He juggled her card between his fingers, thinking whether or not to call her. He settled on calling her after mid-day or at lunch.

He took a shower and got prepared for his morning run. It is never too late for one.

He took his usual route of running passing by the Bliss, something made him stop and look for her. Maybe you were tired from all her work, but it is Sunday and he deserves his weekly treat.

Behind the counter there you were, beautiful as he remembers her from the night before.

"May, I have a cupcake please,"

You were busy talking and giving instructions to one of her staff members, yet a familiar voice turned her head "Why not trying the Bakery choice of the day?"

"If the baker herself agrees, then I am sold." He flirted.

"On the house, sir,"

You served him English cake with coffee at his table.

He stood up when you approached "oh God! You brought it yourself!" he tried to give her a hand and serve himself at the table.

"Anything for my favourite guest." You smiled as did not sit.

He was puzzled and clueless "Y/A, wait."

"Anything else?" You smirked at him.

"Will you go out with me tonight, please?" He used the charm of his puppy eyes again.

"I would love to." You glowed.

Later that day, he texted

Sebastian: You did not take my number! 🧁

Y/A: Sebastian, hey, thank you! 🙏🏻

Sebastian: tonight, when and where?

Y/A: Sushi, maybe???

Sebastian: I was thinking of an Italian fancy restaurant, gotta impress the girl. 🤷🏻‍♂️

Y/A: Not this one lolz. Just anything you like. Surprise me.

Sebastian: Fancy, it will be!

Y/A: next time, I am choosing.

Sebastian: there will be next time, huh? 😉

Y/A: haha, I've got to go. Sunday means work.

Sebastian: see ya tonight.

At your house, you are confused about what to wear.

"It is a fancy date with a handsome man that happens to be a star" you were worried, every ex you had was not even close to Sebastian's sweetness. You know that there is always a catch. This time, it might be you and your busy schedule.

You texted him your address. He arrived before his time with ten minutes holding flowers at your door.

He was dressed in a slim fit navy suit without a tie.

"You look beautiful," he complimented your little black dress and heels.

The dinner went well. Both if shared stories from your past, trying to make a career, and how hard the world is becoming.

"Baking is great but applying for investment is hellish," you discussed the situation with coming at the top.

"Your food should be decorated with prizes. I believe you won many."

He teased, as he knew that you were part of a reality show for bakers.

"It was a phase, now this is the real world." You exhaled gloomily.

Your phone ringing cut off your conversation. You excused him for taking this call.

You left the table, yet, arriving with a miserable 10 minutes later.

"Is everything okay?" He nervously asked.

You looked down at your food "I am sorry, Sebastian, I have to go"

You were anxious and irritated

"What's wrong?" He tried to soothe you.

"My angel investor is having a party. He needs me to prepare the cakes and cookies by myself." You were about to cry.

"Okay, you are pressures." He smirked playfully, trying to change your mood.

"He needs them tomorrow by noon." You asserted upon the last word.

"See, I was going to ask you to teach me, so why not today,"

He called for the check.

Sebastian drove you back to your bakery. It was almost empty by that time. Just two workers and you took Sebastian to the kitchen.

You prepared the ingredients on the counters. Sebastian asked if he can help with getting the blenders and mixing bowls. You pointed at a higher shelf opposite to you.

"Thank you, Sebastian," you were about to leave his car.

"Not yet, doll, we have cookies to prepare," he said as the cute dork he is.

You were guiding him to which thing is to add to the blender first and he was a curious student.

"Exactly, why are you hand blending that?" Pointing at the chocolate mixture in front of you.

"Because we make these with a dash of magic and bliss," you spook magically and seriously.

He paused for a moment "and I am not magic"

You raised an eyebrow, "you are my apprentice, yet, hand blend the cookies."

You came by his side, your chest at his back, and guided his arm to hand to blend the cookies.

He was blazing with fire and excitement. Ultimately, he felt at peace.

“An excellent exercise to those guns.” He teased you.

"Not as a baker's," you guided his free hand to something, "now take a pinch of magic... chocolate chips and add them."

Both of you rounded up and finished everything was in the oven. You sat on the floor drinking wine and chatting further, till the alarm of the oven called it done.

"My cookies" Sebastian pulled them out of the over, "taste what the master baked."

"Apprentice," you asserted as you pulled your cakes out of the other oven.

You let everything rest. It was almost the morning.

"They will come I pick them at 9 am, no time for home." You yawned

"Can I drive you?" He yawned too, and his eyes were sleepy.

"Cookie, you looked exhausted." It was the first time to call him so, he was surprised and delighted.

"I have a coach in my office."

Both of you laid tired and exhausted from the long day. Spontaneously he put a kiss on your forehead, you whispered at his lips "I have a better one" you took his lips on your own and shared the sweetest romantic first kiss.

"Sweet dreams, apprentice Cookie." You laid to sleep in his arms.

"Sweet dreams Y/A." He smiled against your lips and laid a kiss goodnight on them.

Yet, Sebastian had to make the last thing before he sleeps.

Guys, I made cookies

That was his message to the group chat with his best friends.

Chris: cookies, is that's a new term for sex?

Anthony: WTH @Cheis. If Sebastian mentions cookies, then he really made cookies.

Sebastian: I baked cookies

Christ: good for you, pal.

Anthony: you are waking me up at 6 in the morning for cookies.

Sebastian: and a kiss.

Anthony: my man, you should have gone for the pussy 💪🏻

Chris: language!

Sebastian: Good night oldie issues and smarty pants. 🤣🤣🤣

Sebastian looked at your peaceful face, laid another kiss on your forehead, then departed into a deep sleep.

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

Tag list:

@shafverani

@imsebastiansta-n

@brokenwitty

@221bshrlocked (awaiting your feedback)

@sinner-as-saint

@zemosimp05

@buckys-fairy

[treasureswordsgirl55]

Come Back

Character: James Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes / Fem!Reader (OC)

Inspired By (Song): Tu fotografía - Gloria Estefan

Warnings: Fluff. So much Angst. Insecurities. Post! Snap. Post!Avengers Endgame. Pre TFATWS.

Author’s Note: Hello. Hello. Hello. I hope everyone’s ok.

This fic is a second part of “Dust”. When I wrote Dust, automatically thought on a second part, and maybe It would be so so long posted in one post.

(If you don’t know, I write in the night) so… This is the final part of this fic. As always say, it’s a pleasure write with Bucky and maybe, just maybe, write a novel with him just to pull out of off my head.

Part 1 is here

He’s other of my movie’s crush with Poe Dameron. And Loki too. 🤦🏻‍♀️

Ps: The gif isn't mine. (I don't remember who is the creator)

Again, thanks u for the likes, comments and reblogs. Always made me smile to know that my stories makes you fun a little.

So I hope you like this one. XOXO 💋

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I’m driving on the highway at a considerable speed trying to get to my destination quickly. The letter that Steve sent me through those FBI mens is on the passenger seat unopened but I know it contains something important.

His messages were always important.

I barely see out of the window that the great building of Avengers Headquarters appears in my vision, and I feel my heart race. Although I had never been there, something made me even more nervous.

I get out of the car quickly and before even crossing the doors of the building, I see that many people leave, some crying, others hugging others and some running quickly towards taxis that are stopped in the streets near it. The destinations were very different: Some went to the center, others that went to the different government offices and others directly to the airport.

What’s happening?

A police officer stops me and asks for my identification. The only thing I have with me is my little blue backpack and Steve’s letter in my hand.

I think about whether to show him the letter, but I open it and take out from inside it, a folded sheet of paper and a small card, as if it were a driver’s license, and I give it to the officer who steps away only when he sees it, indicating that I should enter through another of the doors that were empty. From a distance I can barely see the different sheets of paper stuck to the side of one of the doors where many people were reading and walking towards the taxis. The officer guides me until I enter through a door that could be for a giant and I sneak past what appear to be luxury cars totally covered by blue tarps.

- We were waiting for you, Miss Porter - The artificial voice makes me jump with fright and I turn towards the void, looking for the source where it comes from; but I can’t see a speaker, far from it, someone nearby - I’m sorry to scare you, my name is FRIDAY, I’m one of Mr. Stark’s technological assistants.

Stark. How long since I heard anything about that last name.

- It's nothing. You just took me by surprise - I deny as I walk through that empty corridor and I see through the tinted windows how people are hugging, as if they had not seen each other a long time ago - What am I doing here? Why don’t the others come in this way?

- I’m sorry it was like that. Let me ask you a question: Did you read Captain Rogers’ letter? It was his exclusive request that you enter through here.

- No … - I answer lost in my thoughts and squeeze the letter in my hands, as if it were some kind of stress reliever that I had learned to use over the years, while I pay attention to the couple that is a few meters from me , who seems to be eager to touch, as if they have not been together a long time - I’ll do it at home.

- You must do it now before entering the main room.

I suddenly look at the threshold where I see silhouettes of people walking quickly from one side to the other. My breath catches in my throat as I feel fear invade me. What am I afraid of? Steve is on the other side waiting for me to give me another bad news? Tell me that he was gone forever like that time five years ago?

- Let me assure you that the content of that letter will not make you suffer more than you have suffered in these five years, Miss Porter.

I look at the letter and curse while I mentally complain about the ease I have to express my emotions, even more so when the opinion comes, from what I suppose, it is an AI.

- And how do you know that? How do you know that I suffered?

- Because Captain Rogers specially asked me to remind you if you didn’t get to read it - I laugh as I remember the many calls during my last two weeks of school, and the times I preferred to press the end button in order not to listen to Steve ask me if I was okay when we were both fully aware that neither he or I were - I know it was very hard for both you, and Captain Rogers, the loss of Sergeant Barnes.

Hearing his last name was as if someone had hit the pit of my stomach and the air suddenly escaped, without giving me the possibility of recovering it.

I try to take a deep breath but barely manage to take in a small breath of air before I feel a tear fall down my cheek.

It hadn’t been long since the snap when I realized how much I missed Bucky.

- It was not necessary to remember something that I’m still trying to forget.

I mumble as I walk to the door and hear children’s laughter, whispers about whether they were okay or how long they were out - What is out there?

- You must see it by yourself, miss. Let me tell you something: Captain Rogers was very sorry that he couldn’t say goodbye to you as he would have liked, but he wants you to know that he appreciates you in ways you can’t imagine.

- Thanks FRIDAY. He went on a trip?

- To live his life, miss. And he hopes that he can give it back some of yours.

I frown at her words and feel a breeze of fresh air come through the door and as soon as I cross the threshold, I hear Friday say the words that nail me to the place.

- Sergeant Barnes is waiting for you. He will be eager to see you again.

Bucky? Was this a joke? I try to open the note quickly but my fingers seem not to want to collaborate between the tremors and the nerves. How likely was the AI ​​to be wrong?

None.

As soon as I open the note I see some scribbles that I understand as the date, which is from a few days ago, and I read it quickly looking for those words that tell me that what FRIDAY said is true.

“I’m sorry I can’t say goodbye to you, Emma. I wish I could tell you this in person, but the circumstances of my trip make it impossible. What I can tell you is that I’ll be fine and that I’m coming home. It was a pleasure. meet you and I want you to do me a favor: Take care of him. He always looked after me, now it’s time for someone to take care of him. That idiot won the lottery with you, Emma. And you must make him notice it every day of his life. This is my gift to you, I know I couldn’t promise anything five years ago, but we did it, we won and James is here for you. I hope that’s enough. ”

I put my hands to my mouth, suppressing a sob, without finishing reading the letter and when I start looking for it with my eyes among so many people. Suddenly reality hits me: The people who were here, running, hugging, crying were those who had disappeared with the snap.

My God … He was here.

I walk towards one of the men who is dressed in red, with the Médecins Sans Frontières insignia and the words are stuck in my throat.

- Are you looking for someone special? Could you give me the details?

- Barnes. He’s here … Or so they told me - I keep looking with my eyes but I can’t make out anyone I usually know. There was no sign of either Natasha or Sam - Sam Wilson? He’s his partner.

The man looks at me as if horns have come out of my head and he approaches another young woman in black, who sees me and only nods to him. I show her the credential without waiting for an answer and she simply indicates the door that is a few meters from us.

- Porter, right? - I nod as if he were a robot and indicates the door to me again - Main hall. Gate 6.

- Thank you - I run while avoiding people, children who run into the arms of their parents and push others, but no one complains. As soon as I get to the door and let people in, I see Sam in the distance that he’s talking to someone I can’t recognize. Something inside me ignites and I feel my heart beating again. I can handle the urge to cry as much as I can but I can’t, as I feel the heat invade my cheeks.

He diverts attention from who’s talking to him, he sees me and starts laughing. That complicit and funny laugh that I haven’t seen in someone for a long time. Everything had become so sad that it seemed to be in a black and white movie. I can barely get Bucky’s name off my lips when Sam nods in my direction and slaps the arm of the man in front of him. He shakes his head, visibly annoyed, but Sam indicates where I am, making the stranger turn around.

I hold back a sigh as soon as I see him turn and look in Sam’s direction but he doesn’t seem to see me. People who cross between the two prevent it. His long hair was gone and a new haircut made him look more confident. Even more attractive. His eyes were still sad but in a way that I couldn’t quite interpret.

Good God, the need to touch him was such that it seemed to me that I was in a dream and that none of it was real.

I try to scream his name through the murmur but nothing comes out of my mouth and when I try again, the tears prevent me from speaking.

I walk quickly, closing the distance between us, but before I even reach the middle, fear takes hold of me again.

What if he doesn’t remember me in the same way that I remember him?

I see Sam roll his eyes as he grabs his shoulders, turns him around, and points him right in my direction: once our gazes meet, I can’t hold back the tears.

The only answer I get is a smile.

We both rush towards each other and I hardly feel the air getting heavy, I wrap my arms around him, as if he might disappear at any moment.

- You’re here. You don’t know how much I cried for you - I hear his laugh while I feel his lips leave kisses on my hair, as his hands try to touch any part of me that is within reach and as soon as he takes me by the arms he pulls me away, observing me from above down - I thought you were just another illusion in my head.

- Is it really you, Emma? - He hugged me again and I hear Sam mutter as he passed something about how “cheesy” we looked - You look different.

-You were gone for a long time, James - he murmured against his chest while I enjoy the heat that his body gives off as well as the accelerated beats of his heart that are coupled with mine - When Steve told me that you had gone …

- Shh … don’t remember. I’m here, doll. I will never leave again.

He pulls away just to look at me for a few moments, I don’t know if he was looking for something or trying to remember something, but he just raised his hand to wipe the tears that were falling down my cheek.

- I have to catch you up on things here. - I try to get Steve’s letter out of my pocket but Bucky makes me look at him again.

- Before that….

The last thing my brain analyzes is the softness of his lips against mine. A gentle pressure and I feel like the floor disappears under me. I try to get up on tiptoe to get up to him and run my hands on his shoulders trying to bring him closer, but all I can do is wrap his arms around me and get even closer to him. I let my fingers play with his short hair and I love that feeling.

Hell, I missed his presence so much that it was hard for me to think about never having him around again.

He pulled me for air and I can tell his cheeks are just as red as mine - Bucky I …

-You don’t know how long I wanted to do that.

- For 6 years? - I joke as I approach again and take him by the hand.

- How old are you, Emma? The first time I met you, you were 25.

- I will turn 31 next week - I admit as he shakes his head and looks for someone with his eyes, when he does not find him, he lets out a growl - Who are you looking for?

- Sam. I’ll tell him we’re leaving - Answer my mental question and gently pull me towards one of the secluded rooms of the building where I hear murmurs from other people - I’ll catch up with you, doll.

I feel my cheeks heat up as I brake, causing Bucky to tense up - What do you mean?

- We will catch up on all aspects and I swear to you that you will hardly leave my department - I try to laugh but all I get is that a gasp escapes my lips causing me to give me a playful smile - In that aspect too, doll .

- Before you two go to do the things that are you going to do - I hear Sam’s voice in the distance and as soon as it enters our field of vision, I see him snorting - You know you must be with Raynor on Monday at 9 o'clock. Truth?

- And you had to remind me now?

- Yes, because I know you will not answer my messages and she will be the one who will remind you when you want to forget about it. Your head depends on it, Buck.

- Do not call me that way.

- Come on old man, go enjoy your life and stop getting mad at the world. You’re back and with your girl, and will you still be upset because I call you like Steve did?

I shift my gaze from one to the other and Bucky just extends his hand to Sam, who shakes it without hesitation.

- Take care of yourself, Wilson.

- You too Barnes. If you need me, you know where to find me.

I pulled me away from Bucky as I walk to the door and I feel like some of the pain is gone even though I still can’t assimilate that that’s true.

- Let’s go, doll?

- Let’s go.

[hansensgirl]

salvatore | iv

series summary — Bucky Barnes doesn’t believe in love anymore. Especially after the tragic, unknown death of his wife, Natasha. He thinks it’s stupid and a waste of time and- oh my. Hello there, you. There you were, with your notebooks and your novels, writing your heart away. He’s hellbent on saving you from this nasty world, his elusive neighbor that has him under the stupid spell of love. You soon find yourself trapped in a tragic love story with Bluebeard, not Prince Charming.

chapter warnings — dark!bucky, dark themes, stalking, voyeurism, cameras, stealing, slight angst, smut, female masturbation, perving, male masturbation, violence, mentions of cheating, fluff, feelings, noncon/dubcon, 18+

pairings — Dark!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff, Natasha Romanoff x Steve Rogers

word count — 2,961

a/n — finally! finally, i posted! please leave some feedback if you’d like! happy reading, and if you do not like any of the things in the warnings, do not read this!! also thank you to @mariessecretfantasies for beta-ing, ily! check her wonderful stories out please, you won’t regret it!

“Oh, bunny.” She cooed, tracing the scars that were scattered about Bucky’s body. Bucky whimpered and opened his eyes. The redhead smiled down at him, wearing a simple sundress and heart sunglasses. She twirled her tongue around the cherry flavoured lollipop as if she was sucking his cock. The old Bucky would’ve had a boner in just a few seconds, but the sight of Natasha had startled him deeply. “We should go to the Valley this weekend, Bunny.” She pulled the sunglasses down to the bridge of her nose. “Yeah, so you can visit Steve huh?” He spoke, but they weren’t the words that left his mouth. “Of course, Nattie.” His fingers ran through her red locks on their own accord. He tried to pull them away, but instead he pulled her closer. She set the lollipop on the dashboard of the Buick. She crawled into his lap and began to unbuckle his belt, desperately craving his cock. She suddenly left his belt and grabbed the knife that was in his thigh holster, bringing it up to his throat. “You know Nattie, I used to think the world of you.” He growled through gritted teeth. She pressed the knife closer to his throat, her hands shaking slightly. “Yet now, you barely even cross my mind.”

Bucky shot up suddenly, Natasha’s name leaving his name in just a whisper. One that when he himself couldn’t hear. He was drenched in sweat, his naked form all sticky. “Fuck.” He cursed, pulling off the thin grey sheet that barely covered him. The gruesome dreams replayed in his dark mind, sending chills down his spine. It was the first dream he had about Natasha in a while, and he didn’t know what triggered it. He pulled on his boxers and sat on the bed idly, wondering what he should do. There was no way he would go back to sleep, he didn’t want to face Natasha again. His eyes fell onto the laptop on his bedside table and his lips worried a smirk. It was devilish, almost as if Satan cursed himself upon Bucky. He peered out of the window and managed to see through the pitch black darkness that filled your room. You had a pillow between your legs and your sheets were a mess.

You clearly were knocked out, probably still hazy from that hangover. He sat near the window and opened the laptop to enter his password. He carefully typed your name and added his favourite number at the end before pressing the arrow button. It loaded quickly, given that he had harassed the guy down at IT for speedy wifi and advanced technology. He tapped into the cameras that he installed in your house one afternoon whilst you went for a quick run. He rewinded the tape to when you were in the shower, washing your hair. The water had to be cold as he inspected your body language and facial expressions. Seeing the water spill over your body had his cock throbbing between his thick thighs. He watched you slip a hand between your thighs, rubbing the pearl of nerves that had your knees buckling and your eyes rolling back into your skull. No wonder you were knocked out. Your mouth fell open to let out a silent scream and your ministrations on your clit sped up. Bucky’s large cock became fully erected, leaking with pre-cum. He grasped the base and swiped the tip with his thumb, before beginning to stroke himself.

“Fuck.” You both gasped, throwing your heads back.

He swore under his breath and watched you edge yourself. He wondered how many times he could edge you before you couldn’t take it anymore, before you would let those tears fall just for him. He would love to see you break under him, though he knew you were already slightly cracked beneath the lines. You palmed your breasts eagerly before spying the shower head with a smirk. “Such a naughty, dirty girl.” He degraded, letting a moan slip past his plump lips. It was almost as if you heard him, only saying one word. “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” You came undone on your frail, delicate fingers that could barely reach your g-spot. Your creamy cum coated your hand, and you pulled your fingers away from your honey pot. You had the urge to suck your arousal off of your fingers, and Bucky could tell. You hesitatingly stuck them in your mouth and you sucked them clean, which pushed Bucky off the edge of the cliff. His streaks of cum painted themselves on his abdomen, wishing you were there to catch it all in your mouth. He sighed as his cock became flaccid, and you washed your sins away with steaming hot water.

He switched cameras and fast-forwarded to when you dried yourself off with the fluffy towel. You bent down to wipe your legs, giving him a view of your pussy. He paused the camera and admired you for a bit, his breathing becoming more laboured. Your freshly-shaven lips glistened with water droplets, but he wished it was his cum instead. He shut his eyes and muttered incoherent words under his breath. This isn’t wrong! I’m just making sure you’re safe, that’s all. He mindlessly watched your moisturize and get ready for bed, all while jamming out to your favourite song. He could watch you swing your hips for hours, watch you flip your hair until you felt dizzy. And he could, but it’s not as good as he wanted. He wanted to be there with you.

Bucky decided to try and get a few hours of shut-eye, knowing that he’d deeply regret it if he didn’t. He hadn’t noticed that your breathing never slowed. You laid in bed, with your eyes shut. You were teetering on the verge of falling asleep, but your thoughts kept you up.

You wondered how you had managed to fall in love with your neighbour. The neighbour that you had only known for so long. It couldn’t be love, because love is dumb, right? It’s just a crush that makes you feel all sick and happy, a crush that lasts forever. You tossed and turned in your bed, trying to get some rest for once. But sleep never came. Instead, your heavy eyes watched the sun rise until it nearly blinded you. You sighed and rolled out of bed. Your body was almost on auto-pilot. You went downstairs and made yourself a cup of coffee, along with a bagel. You somehow found yourself pulling on a sundress that was a little too revealing for your taste. You admired yourself in the mirror for a bit, wondering what Bucky would think of your outfit. Would he be disgusted? God no, he’s too much of a gentleman. You pushed the negative thoughts out of your mind as you were determined to have a good day. You stared at the book that sat on top of your night stand. Ever since Bucky had gifted it to you, you never opened it up.

You could either read the classic that he gifted, or spend the day looking for a nearby job that would pay well. You chose the former. You gathered all your notebooks and pens, hoping that maybe inspiration will strike you. You went to open your back door, just to find it unlocked. You furrowed your brows with confusion, trying to recall whether or not you locked it. “Probably didn’t.” You muttered under your breath. You shook your head with disappointment — something that your mom constantly would do to you. You shut the door behind you and sat on the sun chair. The sun was bright — maybe a little too bright for you. But it didn’t seem strong enough to harm your soft skin. You flipped to the first page and began to read, but you lost track a few times. You imagined yourself as Catherine, and Bucky as Heathcliff. The story was already wrong in so many ways, but to picture yourself as one of the characters was almost too much. You couldn’t help it though, you really couldn’t. You stopped at the second page and decided to retire the book for the day.

You played with your pen and chewed at your bottom lip, trying to think of a way to start your new story. “Hey, neighbour!” A deep voice called out. You turned your head just to see Bucky peering over the tall white fence. You silently waved at him and gave him a friendly smile. “Got any sugar for me to borrow?” He joked, making you giggle. You shook your head as you played along with him. He put on a frown that made you a little lovesick. It was chilling almost, as if he had practiced those puppy eyes. Your smile faltered slightly, but you kept it on anyways. A flash of darkness struck Bucky when he saw the slight dullness to your lips. “So, writing the next best novel?” He questioned, even though he already knew that you were just writing something for your Tumblr. “Not really, I just have the muse to write.” You meekly explained. He let out an understanding sound, nodding his head as your words sank in. Well, this is awkward… “Why do you write?” he asked, the question making you shoot your head up in a flash. “Pardon?” You scoffed incredulously. “I know you heard me, if you don’t want to talk about it then that’s fine, just curious. Sorry.” He looked down with guilt, making your heart break slightly. God dammit!

Bucky’s manipulative resolve nearly broke when he nearly smirked as he saw your face fall. He began to move away from the fence before you called out his name. “Bucky! Wait, I’m sorry!” You apologized, getting up from your seat. Bucky smiled and turned around to face you. He once again wore those puppy eyes that manage to manipulate you. You apologized profusely, your notebook and pen scattered on the freshly grown grass. “I’ll only accept your apology if you let me hang out with you, doll.” Doll, the nickname had you smiling sweetly. His stoic gaze burned into you as he admired your smile. So fucking gorgeous. “I’ll open the front door for you-” You started, turning away from Bucky. “Actually, I think I can hop over this fence.” He admitted, making your eyes bulge out. Before you could say another word, Bucky swung himself over the tall white fence. “Oh my god.” You whispered in shock, realizing he avoided stepping on your flowers. He smiled at you and began to look around your garden. He acted as if he hadn’t seen it already, as if he hadn’t broken into your home already.

Well, he didn’t break in. You just didn’t let him in nicely.

You noticed the gardening gloves that he donned. “You garden?” You asked with pure curiosity. “Huh? Oh, yeah.” He answered. “Do you always garden? Or have you just started?” You wondered out loud as the heat of the sun grew. He took in your form as he wondered what lie he should choose. “Just started, any tips?” He peeled the gloves off as he spoke. The way he maintained eye contact was intimidating, almost scary. “Eh, not really… Mrs. Carter helped out actually!” You exclaimed, making the awkward tension even worse. Bucky nodded and stalked closer towards you, making you gulp thickly. Why were you so nervous? It’s not like he would hurt you, right? “Relax, I can hear your heart beatin’ fast.” He smiled down at you softly. You hadn’t realized how much bigger he was than you. He towered over you and even blocked the sun from blinding you. “Are you nervous, baby?” He nearly let out a coo when you nodded shyly. The way the tension between you too changed into something else was practically elusive. “I could go for some nice lemonade to be honest.” He smirked.

“L-lemonade?” You questioned. Your brows knitted together with confusion. What did he want from you? “That is what I said, isn’t it?” He looked up at the bright sky as if he was pondering to himself. “O-of course.” You walked away from him and nearly tripped over your feet. He had turned you into a nervous-wreck — you couldn’t even bear to look him in the eyes without shying away. With every few steps you took, you glanced back at Bucky, who was staring right at you. You felt his cold eyes burn into your back until you were out of his sight. Bucky quickly grabbed your notebook and flipped through the pages, before pulling his phone out. He snapped photos of every single thing you’ve written. From novel ideas to entries about your life. “Maybe if you let me in then I wouldn’t have to do all this, doll.” He grumbled. As he flipped through your notebook, something fell out. It landed on his foot but he barely felt the impact of it. He reached down and picked it up, realizing it was a polaroid.

Before he could turn it over, the sound of your feet pattering on the wooden floor screamed at him to set everything back to normal. He hurriedly closed the notebook and picked up your belongings, setting them on the small glass table. He shoved the polaroid in his pocket and smiled at you. “That was fast- where’s the lemonade?” He questioned, making you smile meekly. “It’s inside.” Your voice was small, quiet. He clearly enjoyed the fact that you were intimidated by him, that you were scared of him. You led him into your home and he acted as if he hadn’t been in it already, marvelling at every aspect of your living space. “Can you um, take your shoes off?” You requested, but your tone of voice made it seem like a demand. He raised a challenging eyebrow at you and took his shoes off at a painful pace. C’mon doll, being so rude to a world hero? If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t even be alive at this point. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rude!” You apologize quickly, pouring him a glass of lemonade.

Bucky flashed you a smile that was both sweet and sultry. Oh, the things he did to you. You handed him the cup and watched him drink it all down. Your lemonade-making skills were a bit rusty, but it seemed to you that he enjoyed the refreshment very much. Maybe a little too much. “Y’know, I might have to steal this recipe from ya. It tastes just like the way my ma used to make it.” He stared out into space blankly, his features softening completely as he spoke of his mother. You felt giddy with his praise, and he let out a coo as you looked at the bland kitchen tiles. It’s weird that you hadn’t noticed the faint footstep print. You frowned and tried to think back as to when you stepped into the kitchen with muddy shoes, and you couldn’t recall anything. “What’s wrong doll, hm?” Bucky asked, leaning over the counter. “It’s nothing.” You spoke too soon, which told him that in fact it was something. “So, have you planted any flowers?” You questioned, changing the conversation. Bucky’s jaw clenched as soon as you did, he hated that. “Yeah, some roses, some marigolds and some cosmos and I have yet to plant some asters.” He divulged into the topic of his garden and he slowly began to light up in a way that had you smiling. “The flowers are pretty, just not like you.” He spoke loudly. Your shy smile turned into a grin, and you thanked him.

“Just the truth, doll.” Doll, how many times had that nickname slipped from his lips? No, wrong question. How many times did that nickname make your poor little heart flutter? Bucky smiled as he heard your the pace of your heart beats pick up for the nth time. He walked around the counter slowly, all whilst staring at you like you were his prey. You took a step backwards but his hand on your waist stopped you. “Why? I- I don’t know what you want. Y- You’re confusing me, Buck.” You stammered, but your tone held so much frustration that he understood where you were coming from. “I want you doll, but not like this. No, one day.” His words baffled you and so did his actions. His grip left your waist but it still lingered, and he grabbed his gardening gloves. “Tomorrow, tomorrow we’ll figure this all out, doll.” He spoke softly, smiling at you. He slipped his shoes back and he left you all alone in the kitchen. Your mind replayed everything that had happened, and you were bewildered. “James Buchanan Barnes, could you be any more confusing?” You wondered aloud.

Bucky shut the door behind him and took off his shoes, leaving the gloves on the small table that was beside the door. He walked into the kitchen and plucked the Stark Industries tablet off of its charging pad. With a few gentle taps, he watched you clean up the house impassively. He chuckled, knowing that he had twisted the wires in your mind so much you couldn’t be left some with your thoughts. His long, lithe fingers paused the live video and he admired the way your tongue peaked out of your supple lips in concentration. He spotted the notebook once again and recalled the polaroid he had purloined from you. He pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it over, his eyes going wide at the image that you had kept.

Oh doll, how could you betray me like this?

[marshmallowprotection]

Kait Reacts To The AE: Other Endings

Bad Relationship Ending! I’ll likely be doing this for the Bad Endings as I collect them but that make take a few days because I’m not sure where all of them are and I have to play the Route over and over. If you click it, it’s your choice. We’ll see if I want to talk about all of them though.

Hey. It’s the ending all of got because we didn’t know how important the heart system was with Saeran, or, you played the route like you would with Another Story and failed to be blunt with Rika and V from the get-go. 

Either way, this was the most unsettling thing to read at 5AM after I thought that I was going to get the Good Ending, so needless to say, I was already pissed off that she had got me on this Bad Ending, and then I got even more lost and upset when it started to play out in front of me. 

So, the visual novel opens on Rika who is clearly not in a good place right now and she decides that while she did do wrong, she didn’t abandon Saeran in the end. She’s not us, we left, and she didn’t leave. Everyone always leaves Saeran behind, remember? She says that we pretended that we would stay forever but we left. 

“Don’t you know that when you leave, Saeran will die? The agency will never let him live after they know about Saeyoung! You knew! You knew and you left him behind!” 

She breaths in deeply as her mind wanders with thoughts for a long moment, and then it hits her at last. “...Which means that I am the only one left that can save Saeran. Because I stayed. Because I’m the only one that really loves my Saeran.” 

And, she goes back to where she and V left him all those hours ago. She left because she couldn’t handle the idea of him dying in the first place but now she has a plan and she’s going to fix everything for him. She shakes him awake as he lays in the grass, demanding that he could up because it’s not safe. 

He’s confused. 

She says, “Let’s run before they get here. I’ll help you. Once they know what happened, you know that they’ll never let you get away with it.” 

Saeran stares at her, a despaired look in his eyes. and he looks down. “If I run now, they’ll notice. I want to stay. I want to buy time for everyone as long as I’m able to do so.” 

Rika snaps at him, “Stop caring about that person and Saeyoung! Do you want to be left all alone?! Poor Saeran. You had to sacrifice yourself for your brother, and that... they left you. They both left you behind. So, now you’re all alone once more. Just how you started!”

“Where’s V?” 

“Speaking of which, we should find him. We need to get you out of here. Get up, get up now! Do as I say, or I’ll tell the agency what happened!” 

“...”

“...”

“Okay. I’ll do as you say.”

And it fades to black. We’re left wondering what Rika just did with Saeran but you know that it’s nothing good. It can be nothing good whatsoever and we know what happens when Rika gets what she wants when she’s not in the right place in her stance. 

She does something wildly out of reason and panics and this is one of those moments where you know that she’s going to do something that you will want to look away from as it gets worse and worse and worse and worse and trust me, I didn’t want to see what I knew was coming. 

We’re treated to Rika saying that Saeran should thank her for everything she is doing for him. She says that he forgave her so he should be thankful that all is well now. She promises that she will protect him forever and that no matter what it takes, she will commit herself to it. 

I assume that V went along with that with no questions asked because neither of them want Saeran is die at this point, but he’s going to have to live with this till he dies. He’s letting this happen. So, no sympathy from me, V. You knew this was bad. You knew that Rika was wrong. You were there when she killed Mother Choi in self-defense and then you helped her hide the body. There’s so much that I don’t even want to cover with you, V. I won’t get started on him. 

This is just like the Secret Ending, but to an extreme level of him giving up on everything and deciding to be selfish and give into whatever Rika wants because that’s the only way to keep her from going to jail. No matter how childish and selfish her fantasies are, he’s always going to humor them in this outcome so don’t even look at me, Jihyun Kim. 

Anyways, I can’t stand Rika. Everyone knows that, though. I don’t forgive her for what she did but at least in the Good Ending and the Normal Ending, she faces the music for what she did and she is punished for it. And, she’s able to start the process of working on her mental health. She’s not getting her relationships or friendships back, but she will be able to find peace. 

Good for her, but she gets what deserves and she acknowledges that, but not in this ending. NO. Not in this ending. She decides to take him. She takes him far away and leaves. This ending is the fucking worst thing that I’ve ever seen right now, and that’s counting what happens in Saeran’s Bad Ending 3 when you turn against him and use him as a puppet. 

God, what if that’s one of the endings that I’m missing? I’m only missing 2 as we speak and I’m sincerely scared that the final ending is going to be one where I have to agree with Rika. If that’s the case, I won’t be doing that ending myself, that’s for sure. I could not do that to Saeran. So, here’s hoping that if that is the ending I’m missing, someone else gets it. 

So, then I can talk about it because I cannot do that to my boy. It hurt in his route when I needed to see what happened but I didn’t realize how bad that was going to be until the last minute. Haha... haha... okay. So, Rika takes him away and we are treated to a black screen. Rika talks about how fortunate he is and how she will never leave him. She tells him that in exchange for protection, he never talk about me again. She says that nobody deserves to be spoken of because they all betrayed us.

She says that she’ll be a better mother. She says that she’ll do it right this time and that’s not even counting the fact that she knows that she “became” his mother in the first place because she killed Mother Choi in self-defense and hid the body with V, and then the two of them took him away with them to their house in the middle of scenic nowhere. You know the one, he bought that to ensure that they were out of sight. 

Rika wasn’t a good “mother”, because she manipulated and tricked him from the start. Don’t get me started on the visual novels from Saeran’s Route where she spends all of her time while Saeran is confused and crying trying to spin all of his feelings to see what she sees and to only believe in her until the moment came that he left with Rika in a daze and was trapped in Mint Eye. Struggling against his will until she broke him. 

She says that there is no such thing as pure love. 

Only selfish love. 

She says that she’ll make it perfect this time because he forgave her and that means that they’re starting over. However, Saeran utters that, “...This is no different than death.” 

“You’re wrong! You’re alive. We’re alive and we can finally bring a strong family bond!” 

“...My heart is no longer with him,” he says, and then he goes silent. 

He is finally broken and dead inside. There is nothing left to him. Nothing to keep him hoping or feeling hopeful of his life. There is no hope left, all he feels is darkness and hopelessness. He’s trapped, everyone thinks that he is dead and he will never see the player again. He will never see Saeyoung again. There’s nothing left. All he has is this and he likely prays for death. Rika won’t let him die, though, she will keep him locked up tightly till he dies. 

But, he won’t let him die. 

He knows that V and Rika will never let themselves be found, either. So, he can’t even pray for that. He just lets himself go numb and waits for the end, praying it to come for him sooner, rather than later. Not even the hope of MC being alive and happy can settle his nerves anymore because he’s not dead... if he were dead, he would be able to leave happy memories for MC, but now he can’t even do that. 

All he can do is suffer, like a chained pet to a cruel mistress.

I think what’s even more fucked up here is that Rika is wearing a similar shirt to the one that MC was wearing the AE, you know, the blue turtleneck. She is just demanding that Saeran loves her like he loved the player, yanking him around like a dog and demeaning him like a toy over and over again. This is better than the agency or Saejoong, she explains, and he’ll get all the sunlight he wants and all the treats he wants. 

hat isn’t what Saeran wants.

Nor will it ever make him happy.

All Saeran craves is his freedom, and he will never see that again.

Just as he will never see his loved ones again.

All because Rika is selfish and has a twisted perspective on what love means to a person. And, this is the bad ending where Rika Kim is lucky the fourth wall is holding me back because I would not hesitate to throttle her with my bare hands at this point. Look at my boy. This a million times worse than what happened in BE3 on Ray Route. 

And I am missing one ending, with a CG, none the less, only God knows how bad that one must be. 

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Twenty-Nine

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Smut, and a whole mess of fluff.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

“C’mere.” You say to him. You sit up slightly. “I want you to like hover over me while I suck on you.”

“Are you sure you want my balls in your face like that?” He chuckles.

“Won’t bother me.”

Harry comes closer to you, and grips the top of your headboard. You grip him in your hand at first, and then put your mouth right on him. He sucks in a breath when he feels your hot, wet mouth around him. Sometimes you think back to when you were younger. You absolutely hated sucking dick. Some guys just had bad hygiene. But you loved doing it for Harry. He really made you see how hot it was to pleasure someone else orally. He also kept things trim and clean, which you very much appreciated.

He rocks against your face, going deeper down your throat. You groan against him, and he grips your headboard tighter. His eyes are screwed shut, trying to picture his dick inside of you where he really wants it. It’s not that he didn’t love it when you blew him, he just wanted to feel how tight you were.

It doesn’t take him long to come down your throat. You swallow up every bit of it, and he climbs off of you. You get up to rinse your mouth out.

“Holy shit!” You scream, and he rushes into in the bathroom to make sure you’re alright. He finds you inspecting the back of your body in the mirror. Your front wasn’t nearly as fucked up. “Jesus, Harry.” You say rubbing a spot on your shoulder. “I look like a leopard.” You start laughing.

“You said I could…”

“I’m not complaining.” You assure him.

“Looks good on you anyways.” He gives you kiss on the cheek and pats your bum. He leaves you to do your thing in the bathroom.

You wash your face and brush your teeth. When you come out of the bathroom you pick up his t-shirt and throw it on over you. He’s sitting up in bed reading.

“Harry, you look so cute in your glasses, have I ever told you that?” He looks at you and smiles.

“Maybe once or twice.” He teases. He finishes the last page of his book and sighs.

“What?” You ask getting into the bed.

“Nothin’, just sad. This was the last book in this series.”

“Did it have a happy ending?”

“As happy as it could be, yeah. It’s my second time readin’ it, still gets to me.” He takes his glasses of and wipes a tear away.

“I wish I liked reading as much as you do. I much prefer television.”

“I just like getting’ lost in the pages. I mean, I read garbage novels, but they’re just so addicting. Has a television show ever moved you to tears?”

“Oh, tons of times. I think TV has made me cry more than film.”

“Really? What shows have made you cry?” He pulls you into his chest and turns the light off. God, you loved pillow talk before bed.

“Okay, don’t laugh, but when I was in high school, and college too, I was really into Glee.”

“That show about the nerds in the acapella club?”

“Yeah.”

“That show made you cry?”

“I think just about every episode in the third season made me cry, and I sobbed during the season finale. To be fair, I was like sixteen.” You giggle. “There were a couple of scripted series on MTV too that made me super emotional.”

“Like what?”

“There was a show called Awkward that just really fired me up. And there was Teen Wolf.”

“Teen Wolf? Isn’t that a movie with Michael J. Fox?”

“Yeah! But then MTV made a show based off the movie, much darker though. It was really good. Well, it got worse as the seasons went on, but I watched through to the end. Same with Awkward.”

“Do you watch anythin’ now that tugs at your heart strings?”

“Um…I really like that show Roswell: New Mexico. I didn’t think I would like it so much, but it got to me. The first season is on Netflix, maybe we could watch it sometime.”

“Sure, I’d like that.”

“I used to like live blog and write reviews for the shows I’d watch. I still do sometimes.”

“Where do you blog?”

“On Tumblr mostly.”

“That’s cool that you do that.”

“It’s funny because I hate reading reviews of things. I like to try things out for myself. Oh! Do you watch Stranger Things? That’s a good one. Niall and I always binge watch it together when a new season comes out.”

“That’s right!” He starts laughing. “I remember he like blew me off during the day on the 4th this summer to go meet up with you.”

“That was an incredible binge, if I do say so. Speaking of him, he wants to have a movie night Friday so we can all celebrate our good news. I was thinking of having everyone over here. What do you think?”

“Works for me.” He smiles at you.

//

Your period was a killer this week. There were several times during the week you found yourself on the floor in your office. You had run out of your stash of ibuprofen, and hadn’t had time to get more. You were forced to just suffer in silence. The pain would pass eventually, and then you could get on with it.

Harry was good about not getting on your nerves too much. He was slowly learning what you needed while your hormones were at their peak. Every morning you’d examine your body, almost becoming sad at seeing the marks slowly fade away as they healed. You were incredibly horny, but there wasn’t anything you could do. You’d had sex on your period before, but you certainly weren’t going to let him use his fingers or mouth on you right now. You had contemplated maybe in the shower, but you were afraid of residue. You didn’t tell him this, but you got yourself off a couple times in the shower on your own. You had to, the ache between your legs was just too unbearable.

Your body was trying to tell you something for sure, but your mind tried its best to keep you at bay.

//

You were delighted when your period ended Friday morning, but your stomach felt like shit. The first week of a birth control pack was your least favorite thing, even more so than your period. Your dosage wasn’t even that high, but it still would make you feel like you were going to vomit.

“Anythin’ ya need me t’pick up for tonight? I can do a run to the market before ya get home from work.” Harry says to you sitting up in bed, watching you pick your outfit for the day.

“Think I have everything we need. I have chips and dip, we’ll probably order pizza or something.” You decide on a pair of dark jeans and blouse/blazer combination. You throw your hair up in a high pony, and take a few strands out to frame your face.

“Know what we’re watchin’ yet?”

“Nope.”

“Who’s comin?” You sigh and look at him.

“Harry, I love you, but you’ve reached my capacity for questions this morning, okay?” He blinks at you.

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I just feel gross and I’m hormonal. Not a great excuse.”

“One more question.” You nod. “Is Aunt Flow still in town?”

“No she left early this morning, thank god. This was a rougher month.” You sit on the edge of the bed. He places a hand on your thigh.

“Sometimes I wish I could just take all your aches away.” You smile at him.

“You do, in more ways than you know.” You stand up and give him a light kiss. “See you tonight.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too, babe.”

//

You felt better as the work day went on. You were excited to have a little double date with Niall and Sarah. Harry got out of work around 4PM, so he went straight to your apartment. He knew you’d want to have the place ready to go so you could relax when you got home. He fluffed up the pillows on your couch, and folded up the couple of blankets you kept on the back of it. He made sure all of the beer for him and Niall was in the fridge, and he picked up your favorite wine.

You keyed into your apartment around 5:30, and kicked off your shoes. Your nose was pink from the cold air outside. Harry had his legs slung over one of the large chairs you had near the couch. He had his laptop, and was working away. He looked up at you and gave you a smile.

“Hi, love.” He says.

“Hi honey.” You yawn.

“I tidied a bit for ya.” You kiss the top of his head.

“Thank you. M’just gonna go change quick.”

You change into a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, and come back out to Harry. He puts his laptop on the coffee table, and gestures for you to come sit with him. You sit in his lap, and rest your head on his shoulder. He rocks you back and forth slowly, and you let out a calming sigh.

“How’s my baby girl today, hm?”

“Tired.” He rubs your back. “But I’m happy to have friends over tonight.” You nuzzle into his neck.

“I bought that wine you really like.”

“Mm.” Is all you muster out as you start to doze off in his arms. He chuckles, but lets you drift.

Your eyes snap open when you hear Niall and Sarah walk into your place. You practically jump off of Harry.

“Sorry, did we disturb you two?” Sarah giggles. “We brought a veggie platter.” She hands it to Harry.

“No, I fell asleep. I was exhausted.” You stretch, and hug your friend.

“Alright, what are we watchin? TV, movie?” Niall says.

“Oh! You know what was on the other night that I’d love to watch all the way through?” You say.

“What?”

“The Forty-Year-Old Virgin. I refrained from watching it because it was halfway through. It’s on Netflix, do we feel like a comedy?”

“Works for me.” Niall says.

“I love that movie!” Sarah says.

Harry and Niall grab their beer, and you and Sarah fill your glasses with wine. You and Sarah sit in the middle of the couch, and your boyfriends sit on either side of you. Your apartment was filled with giggles right off the bat.

“God, we love a young Paul Rudd.” Sarah says.

“We love a Paul Rudd at any age.” You clink your glass with hers. Harry pinches your arm, and you giggle. “What?”

“I’m sittin’ right here. You’re attracted to him?”

“You’re not?! He’s beautiful!” You and Sarah start laughing.

“Isn’t he like fifty?” Niall chimes in.

“So?” You and Sarah say at the same time.

“He’s a hall pass for sure.” Sarah says, kissing her boyfriend on the cheek.

“Agreed. What I would give for a night with Paul Rudd.” You look up at Harry and burst out laughing.

“Jesus, mate, here I was thinkin’ she liked the tall, tan guys, but clearly I was wrong.”

“Now you’ve learned your place.” Niall says laughing. You kiss Harry on the cheek.

You and Sarah laugh so hard you both cry when Jonah Hill makes his small cameo. The guys end up laughing pretty hard at several moments too. You get up to grab the veggie platter out of the fridge and set it up on the coffee table for everyone.

“Thanks for bringing this by the way.”

“Oh no problem, figured it would be better than pizza. Are you excited for Hanukkah to start tomorrow?”

“Yes! I look forward to the gift card my uncle gives me every year.” You giggle.

“Is Harry going with you?” Sarah asks.

“Yup.” You two share a look and start laughing.

“Alright, why does this keep happening? Has everyone been to this party but me?”

“Pretty much, lad.”

“What’s the big deal? Is there somethin’ I should know?”

“Y/N’s great uncle is just a really funny guy. I would just watch out when he greets you.”

“Sarah!”

“You’re not even going to warn him?”

“Warn me of what?”

“If she didn’t warn me, she doesn’t get to warn him.” Niall says.

“Harry…just…” Sarah giggles. “He’s just an older Jewish guy with different ways of saying hello. That’s all.”

“What’s he gonna do? Hug me? M’fine with that.”

“Sure, he’s going to hug you.” Sarah shrugs. “It’s a really great way to know you’re part of the family.”

Sarah and Niall leave around 11PM. You and Harry clean up the living room, and head to the bedroom.

“What time should we leave tomorrow?”

“Party starts at six, so we should probably leave here at like quarter of five, might be traffic.”

“Oh great, so we can sleep in a little?”

“Yup.” You kiss him and turn over. He wraps himself around you, being the bigger spoon.

“That was fun tonight.”

“Yeah, I’m glad we were able to do it. Gotta make more time for them.”

“Definitely….so, Paul Rudd could have you huh?” You turn over to face your stupid boyfriend.

“You’re not serious?”

“Nice to know how you really feel.” He fake pouts.

“I’m sure you have your own celebrity crushes.”

“I suppose. None I would leave you for to go fuck though. Wouldn’t be worth it.” You bite your bottom lip to keep from smiling. “You would really ask me for a hall pass for Paul Rudd? Of all people?”

“Hypothetically speaking, if he wasn’t married with kids, I would consider it. More than anything I think I’d like to just have dinner with him, pick his brain.”

“So you want to go out on a date with him?”

“Sure!” You giggle.

“Who else do you swoon over?” He gives you a crooked smile.

“That’s a very personal question.” You tease.

“Why?”

“Because you’re essentially asking me about who I’ve fantasized about.”

“Jesus, if you tell me you’ve touched yourself thinking about Paul R-“

“I haven’t! Not with him.”

“Who then?” Your cheeks flush. “C’mon, I wanna know who my competition is.”

“Harry, it’s embarrassing.” You shove your face into his chest.

“Please, I’m so curious.” He begs.

“You’re going to laugh at me.”

“Promise I won’t.” You lift your head and look at him.

“I would bone Andy Samberg if I had the chance, again, if he wasn’t married with a child. I will not be a homewrecker.”

“What is with you and older Jewish dudes?”

“Don’t know. It’s not because they’re Jewish. I just find him really attractive, plus he’s funny. You’re funny.”

“Right, the key to a girl’s heart is humor.” He rolls his eyes.

“Harry, if you didn’t make me laugh on our first date, I wouldn’t have seen you again, attraction or not.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Sense of humor is very important to me. You’re so quick when you joke around, you could be a comedian yourself.” He lifts your chin up to kiss you.

“So, you were pretty hot f’me when we first met, huh?”

“So hot.” You roll your eyes. “I had never seen a man quite so handsome. What about me? What did you think of me when we first met?”

“I wanted to hit Niall for not doing you justice. I mean the lad told me you were beautiful, but shit, when I saw you, I nearly got the wind knocked out of me.”

“Oh stop.” You swat your arm at his chest.

“M’serious. And you were so cute at the end of the night, when you simply kissed me on the cheek. It was so innocent and sweet. Not somethin’ I had really experienced before.”

“How do your first dates typically go?” You giggle. Harry scrunches his face.

“Do ya really wanna know the answer t’that?”

“Are you seriously going to tell me that you usually bone on the first date?”

“That’s usually the only date I want, so yeah.” He says a little too honestly.

“What about the girl you dated for like seven months, or whatever?”

“Uhh, we got frisky…didn’t do it til the second date I think. I don’t know, I was such an asshole, I basically just thought of her as the girl I was consistently hookin’ up with.”

“Were you sleeping with other people?”

“Nah, just her.”

“And she thought you were dating, but you didn’t think you were?”

“I just thought of her as the girl I was seein’.” You often wondered what made you so goddamn special. You and Harry had talked about it before, but it still baffled you. “I know what you’re thinkin’. You know what I really liked about you, like, right off the bat?”

“What?”

“You were just so open and lovely. You were genuinely interested in what I had to say. I thought it was sweet that you complimented m’nails, like not in a judgey way. I couldn’t wait to see you again, honestly. I’d never felt that way before.”

“So you didn’t want to just fuck me then?”

“I wouldn’t have turned the opportunity down. I mean, you looked so fuckin’ sexy in that little black dress you wore.”

“I’ve never seen a man wear a pair of pants the way that you do.”

“What?” He laughs.

“You have a bubble butt babe, and it’s incredible. Love sinking my nails into those cheeks.”

“Are you still drunk?”

“Maybe just a bit buzzed, but I mean what I say.” You prop yourself up to really look at him. “You have a chonk, my dude.” Harry burst out laughing.

“Who talks like that?” He says with a big smile.

“Me and my friends. You’re not the only with a dirty mouth.” You wink. “You know what, I think that’s why I like Paul Rudd and Andy Samberg so much. They both have pretty big butts.”

You both giggle about a bunch of different things until you fall asleep.

//

The next morning you both happily slept in. You got up before Harry. You decided to do a light workout in your living room since you didn’t go to the gym much last week. You put on a pair of spandex shorts and sports bra, and tip toed out. You were just finishing your cool down when Harry walked into the living room, blanket wrapped around him. You guzzled down some water. Your body was drenched in sweat.

“Morning baby. Thought I’d get a quick workout in, we’re going to be eating a lot of food tonight.” He squints at you.

“You…you weren’t in the bed when I woke up.” He rubs his eyes, his voice was still thick with sleep.

“I was just out here, did you think I went somewhere?” You turn the TV off, and walk towards him.

“I don’t know what I thought. I just reached for you and you weren’t there.” He pouts. “I like when we snuggle in the mornin’. You’ve deprived me.” You giggle at him.

“Is baby a little cranky this morning?” You pinch of his cheeks and walk by him.

“Where you goin’ now?” He whines.

“Harry, I’m caked with sweat, I need to shower. You can join me if you want.”

“Not awake enough to shower.”

“That makes no sense. Showers wake people up all the time.”

“Too much work.” He curls up on the couch, and closes his eyes.

You take your shower, alone. You take full advantage of having the privacy to shave every last inch of yourself. You blow dry your hair, and throw your robe on, not really feeling like putting clothes on yet. Harry was still wrapped in your blanket, but he was sitting up and had a mug in his hands. He was watching something mindless on television. You sit down next to him and smile. You throw your legs over his lap.

“Feel how smooth my legs are, I just shaved them.” He gives you a funny look and giggles, rubbing his hand up and down one of your legs.

“Mm, so soft.”

“You’re a sleep boy today.”

“Yeah, I am. Not really sure why, I’ll perk up once the coffee’s in me.”

“Want me make something for breakfast? I have oatmeal and grapes.”

“If you don’t mind, that’d be great.”

You turn on the electric kettle Harry had sneakily bought you. He said it was for him so he could have tea quick, but you know he wanted you to have one of your own. Once the water was boiling, you poured it into the two bowls of quick oats you made up. You but a dash of cinnamon in each, and topped it with some grapes. You come back over and hand him his bowl.

“Thank you baby.”

“My pleasure.”

You both scarf down your breakfast, and sit on the couch a while longer. Harry gets up to clean the bowls, and puts them in the dishwasher. He stretches out, and lets out a moan.

“Alright, guess I’ll shower now.”

You bring the blanket back to the bed and make it up. Harry’s in and out of the shower quick. He has his towel wrapped around his waist. You’re sitting on the edge of your bed, filing your nails, he sits down next you.

“How long we been together now? Little over four months?”

“Yeah, it’ll be five in January.” You smile. “Why?” He twiddles his thumbs.

“Well, it might be too soon to be bringin’ this up, but s’not like that’s ever stopped us before. I’m here a lot, and I love your place. I still like my place, but I love your place because this is where you and all your things are. I didn’t know if maybe when we got back from holiday, maybe we could entertain the idea of finding a place of our own?” He looks up at you. You’re speechless. “I mean, I’d say let’s just live here, but I need a space for my desk and monitor. I think a two bedroom where we could split the other room as a conjoined office or somethin’, would make the most sense.” He chews on his bottom lip. “I’ve totally freaked you out haven’t I?”

“How long have you, um, felt this way? When did you realize you wanted to live with me?”

“Can’t pin point it. Just somethin’ I’ve been thinkin’ about. I know it seems fast, but we’re practically livin’ together as it is. We can talk about it later if you’re not ready now. Just wanted to put the bug in your ear.”

You were amazed. You hadn’t even fully slept with the man yet, and he already wanted to live with you. You put your hands on his shoulders and push him back on the bed. You crawl on top of him, and kiss his face all over.

“Harry, I would love to live with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Maybe like towards the end of January we could start looking for a bigger place. You know, once all of the holidays are over. Can you break your lease at any time?”

“Pretty much, yeah. Why?”

“Well…you could move in here before we find another place. Doesn’t make sense for you to keep paying rent. It could take us months to find a place, I’d rather have you here during the in between. We can rearrange the furniture to fit all of your things. And I have that storage unit, we could keep your bed and bulkier furniture there for a little while.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You kiss him. “Um…not that I don’t wanna tell the world, but I’d like to keep this quiet from my family for a bit. I still have to tell my dad about England. I’d rather ease them into something like this.”

“Of course. Better keep it quiet from my mum too. Keep everything nice and light.”

“I’m so excited!”

“Me too!”

Harry always seemed to be able to read your mind. It was a conversation you were hoping to have with him after you got back from England. You just couldn’t believe that he beat you to it. You were practically living together, and it didn’t make sense for you both to be paying rent separately. You’d miss his little place, but you’d eventually find a bigger place you both liked. You still loved the idea of potentially living in Niall’s building. Once you start making more money, you’d be able to afford it no problem.

[georgemackayhey]

Rules For Falling In Love: #2

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

a/n: The love for this fic has really made my heart ache in all the best ways! I hope yall love this update and I look forward to all your feedback of any and all kinds, as always ♡

w/c: 2k

───※ ·❆· ※───

You had a week from hell, one where you seemed to live and breathe your work against your will. When you were free to do as you pleased, all you wanted was to do was absolutely nothing.

When you got home to find George seemed to have been waiting there all afternoon like a puppy, you rolled your eyes, entirely too exhausted to consider having fun. But before you had the chance to give that speech, George ushered you to the sofa.

"The last season, it's starting right now." He explained, turning the volume up on the telly that was already on. The show in question was one of those horrifically trashy ones. A silly little show you both got hooked on when you had the same cold, nowhere to go, and nothing else to watch. Now you needed to know what happened next.

The days weren't always like this. Between the years, you'd drifted apart from each other, floating back together for odd dinners and weekend getaways. It wasn't even like this when you started living together. But it seemed like in the blink of an eye you were spending more and more free time side by side, planning more than a few shared breakfasts and rainy afternoons.

Nights like these were expected by now, and you realized you'd be amiss if they ended anytime soon. George had called off dating some year or two ago, shaken by the Hollywood scene and the popularity contest he seemed to be in on, during films and even off set, in local shops he'd gotten recognized in. You'd forgotten that dating was a part of social life, far too preoccupied with your work and the plans you always had with George after hours to get to know anyone new.

It all made too much sense. So when the first commercial break kicked in and George passed the snacks he was holding over to you, as if he just remembered you were there, you spoke up.

"I'll do it."

You took the snacks, holding George’s eyes as his searched yours. You knew that he knew what you were agreeing too. Just when you thought he was about to speak, the show came back on and both of your focuses shifted entirely on the screen. You hadn't known what to expect... But the way everything seemed so vastly normal, sort of jarred you.

And for the next couple of days... neither of you talked about it at all. Sure you're busy with work and George had been fretting over a couple of important telephone interviews. But you thought surely he'd be more anxious to discuss logistics, or bring up the subject he invented, at all.

It wasn't until the next weekend, that the conversation picked up where it left off, again.

You'd spent the early Sunday morning roaming through the storefronts of an overpriced market. You ducked inside to relish the air-conditioned sales before dipping back out every few feet to admire the booths full of flowers, handcrafted gifts, and expensive decor. You'd buy absolutely everything here if you could.

You did have a mission. It was to pick up something to bring to dinner, a Sunday evening tradition with George's family. You'd been invited for as long as you could recall, and you'd never shown up empty-handed. Usually, flowers and desserts did just fine. But you were entirely too indecisive over what to purchase, this morning.

You'd become lost in a conversation with a woman who sold soaps and lotions, locally and expensively made. You rambled with her for so long that you'd lost sight of the person you'd come here with.

When you spun away from the lady selling soaps as new customers flocked closer to inspect her products, and you went on the hunt for George. You spotted him from behind, leaning in to speak with a vendor nearer inside. And just as you start to drift in his direction, he noticed you, too, through the crowd. And as the people part and you're nearly toe to toe, George doesn't greet you like usual.

There is no jab about where you'd been missing for so long, there isn't even a hello. Instead, you watch as George's smile grows mischievous, before bending at the knee.

Between his thumb and finger is a ring, just your unique style. It's from the booth he knelt in front of now, where hundreds of other delicate and novel jewels were displayed.

"What's all this then?" You laughed, standing in front of the guy you'd known longer than how to do simple maths.

"Marry me?" George asked, for the hundredth time, it seemed. You hadn't ever expected the question. But after this week, it came again at long last. You wondered if he'd ever bring it up again. But this time was different. This time, he smiled softly and held a real promise in his hand, looking up to you with a squint to block out the sun.

"I suppose I will." You grinned, answering quietly as George beamed up at you.

A couple of old ladies gasped from a couple of steps away, turning to watch on as George rose to his feet, grabbing your hand with both of his.

"Thank you, y/n. I cant wait." He said as if he'd been planning this for longer than he'd been pestering you about it.

"Why, we're practically already married." You laughed, mocking the statement he kept returning back to over the weeks. You watched as George slid the ring on your finger, with a pretty little design you couldn't have chosen better if you tried.

"Kiss her!" One of the elder spectators demanded like she was watching a wrestling match and coaxing on the fighters.

"I suppose I should," George remarked, mocking you, from moments ago. When he dipped down to place a teasing, chaste kiss on your lips,  the old ladies cheered. When you swatted his arm with a playfully furrowed brow, the old ladies grumbled, completely let down by the way you ruined the moment.

"Don't blow it, Mackay. Go pick one for yourself, now." You warned your friend who was already giving you a playful smirk as you pointed to the collection of rings he was meant to choose from.

He found the perfect band, with specks and flecks that matched your own. And he liked it, best of all. The two of you walked out of the shoppe with matching rings, in fits of laughter as you imagined all your friend's reactions.

To celebrate, you stopped at a stall selling frozen yogurt and ordered one big container; because it was extremely overpriced, and George didn't mind sharing, because according to him-

"We're official." George boasted, digging into the dessert as you walked back toward your neighborhood, enjoying the perfect morning weather.

"Not quite." You reasoned. "We've still gotta get the worst part over with."

"The worst part?"

"Throwing a faux wedding. Lying to our guests. Drawing far too much attention to ourselves. This feels so much more like a business interaction than an event. Not that I'm not glad to do business with you, of course." You laughed, stepping in time with your closest friend.

"We don't have to make it a whole big thing. I only asked to be married, not for a garish wedding. We could stick to signing a few papers and call it a day."

"Are you serious? I want you to be explicitly clear about what you want because whether we make it one or not, this is a big deal."

"I'm okay with it." George chuckled, forcing the frozen treat in your grasp for a turn. "Either way, we'll need some witnesses."

You grumbled, remembering he was right. You weren't ashamed to marry him. Only embarrassed at the slightest bit of misjudged attention, and worried that your decision would be mistaken for something it wasn't, by anyone you explained it too.

///

"I've forgotten to get something to bring! I've never not brought something to dinner." You panicked, feeling your pockets in a last-ditch effort to find something to keep the tradition alive. George let out a little chuckle as you stalled in his parent's driveway. You reprimanded him for not being just as panicked as you, but he just laughed harder as he reached for your hand.

"Well how about this time I bring you."

A new set of nerves danced on end when you remembered the ring on your finger. You'd walked into the entry of his parents lavish countryside home like clockwork, without a gift but with very big news. But even in the strange twist of events, the familiar setting and George's calming presence meant nothing was out of the ordinary. You were only making the decision to keep it that way. Surely everyone would understand.

As you waltzed further into the home, there was no grand greeting. His father was sat in the living room, focused on a game that flashed across the telly. He turned his smile to the pair of you just before shouting back at the team he was rooting for. George's mother was in the kitchen, and upon hearing the pair of you come in, started rambling about how dinner wasn't quite ready and how hectic her day was.

You and George stalled in the entry of the kitchen, sunbleached wallpaper and worn old furniture welcomed you. When George's mother turned from the stove with a huff and a hand on her hip, she glanced between you and her son and asked why you were both just standing there.

"Has something happened?" She asked in a grave low tone.

George glanced to you as if to ask you for permission to say something. Or maybe to warn you he was about to, anyway. You knew it was best to rip the bandaid off. So you gave the smallest nod and held your breath.

With a look across the way to his father clicking the telly off in perfect time, George made his announcement.

"We're getting married!"

Despite George's sound excitement and the glowing smile on his face, his mother let out a breath with a hand to her heart.

"Oh thank God, I thought someone had died." She explained, reaching back to turn a knob on the oven. Her relief was comical, and just as she spoke up, you realized all the excitement you'd expected, was stored away in the girl bounding down the stairs.

George's sister nearly tripped over herself as she squealed into the room. You might have wanted to plug your ears, but the girl bound your way, babbling incoherently, grabbing your hand to see the ring she expected to see there.

"I knew it. I can't believe this day has come but I knew it would." She gasped like she'd just become a billionaire, as if her very own dreams had just come true. George's father sauntered closer, glancing at your ring with a pleased hum, offering a simple and pleasant congratulations on his way to steal a bit of dessert before dinner.

"So now I can finally expect some grandchildren, yeah?" George's mother shuffled toward the cabinet full of wine, a place she only searched through when the very best and worst news hung heavy over your weekly dinner parties.

"I don't think that's possible." You choked out in a hurry, as George's sister dropped your hand, spinning to face her brother who was holding back wild laughter at your expense.

"You can always adopt, dear." His mother pushed, spinning back to the oven when it dinged. George was in the middle of explaining your plans to his sister, who was shaking her head in disapproval.

"No! No way will I stand by and watch you get married without throwing a party. Can't we talk about a big white wedding? Oh please." She turned to you with big pleading eyes.

"No, no no no. I can't do that. I'd pass out before saying I Do and what's the point of that? We're just gonna get it done." You pointed.

"I'll just see about that." She stormed deeper into the kitchen at the sound of her mother asking her for help finishing your traditional Sunday meal.

"I'll try and thwart her plans to decorate the register's office with rose petals." George brought his hands to your shoulders with a smile you shared, as he led you to the table. His parents argued over what bottle of wine to open, while his sister went on making plans of her own, just for you. Normalcy remained.

///

"You two cannot be serious." Dean sat slack-jawed across a high tabletop in your very favorite pub. He'd barely touched his scotch, but you and George were on your second round of drinks you'd been downing while waiting on your friend to show up to tell him the news.

"Who else would we ask, Dean? You're our third wheel." You laughed, leaning in to shout past the music overhead. You'd already told George's family and asked his sister to be one of your witnesses. The girl was more excited than you and George for your big day. Dean was the only other person you could imagine inviting along, whose presence wouldn't make you break out into a nervous sweat.

"No, I mean you can't be serious about getting married!" Dean laughed, keeping his wide, dark eyes boring into yours.

"We've already worked most everything out. Will you please come?" George leaned in closer, taking his turn at coaxing his best pal into being there for the two of you.

"Yeah, fine," Dean softened, his smile reaching his eyes. "But I'm bringing a cake. Not to celebrate, but to stress eat." The fellow raised his glass in a silly toast. You laughed as you clinked your glasses together, then swiftly ordered another round.

"Well I don't want to steal your thunder but I've been meaning to tell the both of you something..." Dean shifted in his seat as you and George settled into a quiet focus on your friend.

"I've been seeing someone. Only been out a couple of times, but I quite like her already" Dean explained, a blush creeping under his eyes. George encouraged his friend to tell everything about the girl he'd been dating. You urged Dean to bring her around some time, thrilled at the prospect of having a fourth wheel to join in your nights of fun.

As Dean went on telling the tale of his first date with his new girl, your drinks came.

"Won't you miss dating around?" Dean seemed to worry, after thanking the waiter for his drink.

"I haven't missed it this far." You shrugged, sipping your fresh cocktail all the while. As free as you'd been till now, the thought of getting to know someone new, letting your guard down, building trust, just thinking of it all exhausted you.

When George leaned over you to accept his new drink, he flashed the waiter a tipsy smile.

"We're getting married!" He chuckled, and you did too. As you two broke into drunken giggles, the waiter offered unimpressed congratulations. Dean slammed back his new order in time to ask for another; either to catch up with you and George or to deal with the pair of you, you couldn't tell.

───※ ·❆· ※───

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

[saeyoungs-sunflower]

A Piece of You: Chapter 3

Pairing: Zen x MC

Synopsis: After the death of his sister, Zen is entrusted with raising her daughter. Six years later and MC has settled into RFA, but she just wants to be back on the roof with the love of her life like she was two years before. But dealing with teenage years, dragged out engagements and a lot of unsaid feelings, you start to lose a piece of you. Or, perhaps, find a piece you had that had been missing the whole time.

Warnings: None!

A/N: Heya! So I know this series isn’t getting a lot of notes or anything, but I still have a lot of ideas/inspiration for it so I’m gonna keep it going, even if it’s just for me haha! Also want to say a massive thank you to @sunshinejihyun for saying such kind things about this series and being so enthusiastic for it, as well as just generally being a lovely human being. She’s given me a lot of motivation to keep writing this so thank you so much for that! Love ya!! <3

⇦ Previous Chapter

***

“Oh, two can play at that game, buddy!” MC cried as she threw a handful of flour at Saeyoung, who was currently rolling on the floor, clutching his stomach as tears of laughter rolled triumphantly down his cheeks.

“Honestly, MC! It was an-an accident!”

“Ah okay, so the egg just accidentally got crushed on my head, did it?” you questioned, finger tapping expectantly on the counter, raw egg white now trickling down your forehead.

“Well,” Saeyoung tried to speak, but kept being interrupted by his own laughter, “I guess…you could say you have..” he bit his lip, “egg on your face.”

“You have five seconds to run,” MC said eerily calmly, but Saeyoung knew what was coming and did not miss a beat to bolt out of the kitchen. MC promptly followed, arms held out ready for the most fierce tickle war anyone had ever seen.

“So childish,” Saeran mumbled, perched on the counter-top as he scooped batter out of the mixing bowl before licking the spoon.

Saeyoung was finally caught by MC on the couch, shrieks of laughter filling the house as MC mercilessly tickled his stomach - his most ticklish spot, she’d learnt.

The three had grown remarkably close over the past year or so, after MC spent most of it living with the twins to help the two grow closer together, and to help Saeyoung when Saeran was at his lowest. She always knew how to calm Saeran down whilst also reassuring Saeyoung that he was not at fault. They had become more like triplets, and MC adored her little family. It wasn't a family until she found them, and Saeyoung willed himself to believe that such an immense kindness was nurtured in a place of warmth and care.

But MC was not an open book. She was a brand-new novel, placed prettily on a coffee table to be admired and shown-off. In order to read the contents, the spine would have to be broken, edges curled, pages stained. To understand her would be to break her, which was a price MC wouldn’t dare bid.

Saeyoung thought that such a warm heart would never survive the biting ice of the world, and therefore wearing it on her sleeve would be suicide.

And that’s where he went wrong. That’s where he lost his chance. Because the world wasn’t as cold as either of them initially thought, you just had to look in the right places. Saeyoung had found his place now, and the taste of remorse lingered bitterly on his tongue when he realised he couldn't be that place for her, and that she still didn’t know where to look.

But that thought was for another day. Outward gratitude spoke louder than inward regret.

“Okay! Okay okay OKAY MC I’m sorry! Please, have mercy!” Saeyoung pleaded.

“Hm, sorry’s not good enough.”

“What about if I promise you the love and affection from your favourite tomato - God Seven!”

“I get that anyway. And besides, Saeran’s my favourite tomato.”

Saeyoung let out a cry of disbelief, but Saeran snickered from the kitchen, “Idiot. Know your place.”

He sighed, giving in, “Fine, I’ll stop giving physics lessons in the chatroom for at least two months.”

“Now that’s a deal I can get behind.”

The two shook on it, giggling like children as they headed back into the kitchen, clearing up the absolute bomb site they had made. MC idly glanced up at the clock before letting out a loud gasp, startling both twins. “Crap, I gotta get ready! And get this stupid egg out of my hair!”

“Ooooo,” Saeyoung sung, the corners of his mouth curling into a smug grin, “has someone got a date?” he joked.

MC stayed quiet, suddenly peaking the interest of the red-heads who promptly stopped what they were doing, “Wait, are you serious, MC?!” Saeyoung burst, voice cracking (adorably) at the end, “You actually have a date?”

“Did that punk finally ask you out?” Saeran said nonchalantly as he finished scraping out the remainder of the batter.

MC quirked an eyebrow, “What do you mean? What punk?”

Saeyoung shot his brother a pointed look before turning back to MC, “Ignore him, it’s the salmonella talking. So who are you going out with? Do we know him?”

MC tried to busy herself by checking the cupcakes in the oven, suddenly feeling a little coy about the subject, “I doubt you know him, he's a friend of Zen’s. They’re co-stars in the play he's in, actually.”

Saeran gave Saeyoung a perplexed look, which went completely missed by MC. Saeyoung brushed it off, though he knew he felt the same way as his brother, “Awwww MC! You’re all grown up!” MC groaned, but this only encouraged him, “So, what’s his name?”

“His name’s Chul. And don't you dare go snooping around and doing background checks or whatever. I can figure him out for myself, thank you very much. Promise?”

Saeyoung whined like a toddler, but agreed anyway, “Well, you better get going or you’re gonna be late! Do you want a ride home?”

“It’s okay, I have to stop at the shop on the way,” MC said as she put on her coat and slung her bang over her shoulder. She was also incredibly grateful that she remembered to bring a hat today to…you know, hide the egg and whatnot. “You better save me a cupcake!”

“We’ll bring some round tomorrow,” he called after her, “and you can tell me all the juicy details!”

“Not a chance, Choi boy!” she called out from the doorway before slamming the door.

“She’s seriously going on a date with another guy? I could have sworn she was all loved up by Mr ‘God’s mistake’ or whatever.”

“She was,” Saeyoung sighed, cleaning up the remnants of their shenanigans, “but that was what, two years ago now? Zen hasn’t shown any indication of wanting to go further, she has the right to move on.”

“Sure,” Saeran started as he hopped off the counter to help his brother, “but isn't she going to ask him about it? Just in case?”

“Something tells me she already has.”

Her visit was completely welcome, but unexpected. MC had called the night before asking if they wanted to hang out, when she’d usually just text an hour or so before to check that they weren’t busy and then just turn up. It was like she needed the reassurance, like she needed to have the certainty that she would see them. Like she needed it to get through the night.

It could have been written off as pre-date nerves, but Saeyoung suspected it went deeper than that. You learn a lot from living with someone for months, and Saeyoung knew that MC wasn't acting like herself. The thought made him chew on his lip as he continued to wash up.

Saeran noticed this, lightly punching his brother in the arm, “Hey, she’s a tough girl. I’m sure she's perfectly capable of handling boy-drama.”

Boy-drama? Probably. But Saeyoung knew very well, from his own experience, the look of someone in love, as well as the look of someone heartbroken. He saw the first look fade away from MC’s face, being replaced by the latter. It felt like a punch in the gut.

Once everything was cleaned up, Saeyoung opened up his laptop and started typing away.

He was going to have to break his promise. Just this once. For her sake. He couldn’t fail her for the second time.

He never wanted to see that look on her face again.

***

“So, how long have you known Zen?” Chul asked casually as the waitress brought the bill.

“About two years now, I think?” MC replied, taking a sip of her wine.

“Mm, and how much of that time have you been in love with him?”

MC almost choked on her drink, her eyes darting to his. Chul chuckled, handing her a napkin, “Sorry, I suppose that was a little forward.”

“Just a tad,” MC said, trying to recover, “What makes you think I was in love with him?”

“I saw the way you were looking at him on stage, and the look on your face when he was doing the kissing scene,” he took a sip of his own drink, “I just connected the dots.”

“Ah…I see.”

“Relax, I’m not going to say anything to him. I just want to know what he did to make you look so defeated, so upset,” he stared directly into her eyes, “Were you guys together at some point? Did he hurt you?”

“God no! No no, we were never together,” she felt a sharp pang in her chest, “and he never did anything to hurt me. He’s always been such a sweetheart…”

Chul nodded, listening intently, “So why did you never get together? You both clearly care for each other.”

Why did they never end up together? Ah, yeah, because Zen clearly didn’t want that. Maybe she wasn't his type, maybe he saw her more as a sister, maybe she just wasn’t good enough for him.

Ouch.

“I…We just weren't meant to be, I suppose.” And why were they talking about this anyway? Bit of a weird topic of conversation for a first date, MC thought, “Why did you want to know?”

He smiled, “I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t getting in the middle of anything. And I’ve been worried about that look since I last saw you. I wanted to know if you were alright, and if you weren’t, if it was something I could help you get over.”

MC smirked, “Oh? You think you can help me get over him?” she said jokingly.

“I do,” Chul said gently, “If you let me.”

The night was surprisingly pleasant. Not that MC doubted that Chul was a nice guy, she just thought that going on a date with someone considering her current situation would be too weird, but she actually had a lovely time. They had a fantastic meal at a beautiful restaurant, which despite MC’s protests, Chul paid for. She said she’d pay for the next one, which made Chul smile at the confirmation of a ‘next one’. He walked her home, slowly strolling under the warm glow of the streetlights they passed, hands occasionally brushing against each other, chatting as though they were old friends.

He kissed her softly on the cheek at her doorstep before wishing her a good night. As he turned away, his words from before rang in MC’s ear.

If you let me.

He was already halfway down the block when MC caught up to him, grabbing his arm to spin him round to face her. After a moments hesitation, she balanced on her tip-toes to land a chaste kiss on Chul’s lips, which he happily returned with the same gentleness as before.

MC had never been one to kiss on the first date. Hell, she had never been the one to date full-stop. But she saw an opportunity for adventure, for companionship…for love. She obviously didn’t love Chul, but she knew she could. She would no longer wish upon a shooting star, now she would shoot after it herself.

She broke away from the kiss first and slowly untangled her arms from around his neck, “Goodnight, Chul.”

He smiled softly at her, loosening his hold around her waist, “Goodnight, MC.”

As she walked back to her apartment, she swore she felt the ghost of Chul’s hand on the small of her back, his lips on her own. She suddenly missed his voice, his scent, his touch. She suddenly missed him. Or did she miss being wanted by him?

MC took out her phone once she made it through her door, her thumb hovering over Zen’s number. Usually it was instinctual to call him the second she felt the pull of loneliness, and she knew he would have been worrying about her. But she couldn't bring herself to press the button.

If things were going to work out with Chul, she needed to give him the best chance. She needed to give him her attention, and needed to confide in him rather than a love that never was.

She knew that you can’t get over the hurdle if you never leave the starting line, and she knew that Chul could help her get over it once she did.

If she let him.

***

Masterlist || Next Chapter

[rilakoya]

Oh, pt. 3 (m.)

— genre | Roomie/Bestie!Namjoon x female reader + fluff + angst

— words | 3.9k

— member | Kim Namjoon

An awkward encounter with your roommate triggers painful memories, but there’s a way you can learn to move on.

— warnings | NSFW, mentions of sex, body worship, fingering (f. receiving)

*Y/N- Your name

1 2

A/N: It's taken me a long time to get back into this fic, and I'm so grateful to you all for being so patient with me (I'm definitely looking at you, Owls-and-stars ! As many of you know, this was my very first fic ever, and of course as an overachiever, I had to start with a miniseries, so this has been a growth exercise for sure. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!

[As he disappears around the corner, you roll over on your side, curling yourself tightly into a ball and pressing a fist to your mouth to muffle the sobs as the tears fall hot and fast onto your pillow.]

Oh my god, he’d done it. Was he dreaming? Or better yet, was he insane? Could this possibly end well? Never in his wildest fantasies could Namjoon have imagined that he would be in this position. But there was no way he was going to turn back now. This was an opportunity to show you what was possible, what you deserved. Taking a deep breath, he focuses himself. Just do this one thing, yes, one thing at a time. He knows that he could frighten you away if he’s too aggressive. But dammit, he’s seen you go through so much and he is so sick of watching you underestimate and undervalue yourself because of your ex’s stupidity. You are such an amazing woman, so beautiful inside and out, kind-hearted, impatient, compassionate, stubborn, intelligent, and strong, with crazy quirks and occasionally unpredictable. You’re wonderful, and he feels fortunate to be your friend. It is time you understood that you are worthy of every good thing life has to offer, starting now.

One thing at a time, man. Start with this one simple act, running you a bath. And so, he concentrates with almost ritualistic intent, ensuring the water temperature is just right, pouring in your bath foam and salts, reaching for your fluffiest towel and making sure your robe is within reach. Finally, it becomes increasingly apparent that he’s just stalling, so he hurries out of the bathroom in hopes that you haven’t fallen asleep.

You’re not asleep, of course, although you wish you could be, and though his heart breaks just a bit more at the evidence that you’ve been crying, he pretends not to notice. “Let’s get you cleaned up, princess.” He reaches over you and takes you in a soft embrace, before reaching under you and lifting you like you’re delicate, fragile. And to be honest, in this moment, maybe you are. Normally, you’d be raising hell about being carried around like you’re incapable of walking, but right now, you’re emotionally too drained to give a shit, and there’s a part of you soaking up Namjoon’s tenderness and care. So you don’t complain as he places you gently into the bathtub, releasing a comforted sigh as the water soothes over your frazzled nerves and pretending you don’t notice the painfully tented profile of his sweatpants when as he closed the bathroom door on his way out. 

How could you be so… there are no words for it. Foolish? Wanton? Shameless? You wince internally at the last mental suggestion, all too aware that shame is something that you currently feel, in spades. What the hell were you thinking? Are you so dick-deprived, so sexually depraved that you just had to bed your bestie? Shit. Your lengthy attempt to baptize yourself in your bathwater was enough to burn your eyes with the soap from the water, but not enough to cleanse your mind and the contents within.

You’ve been staring at the closed door for several minutes, but that’s not the scene inside your head. No, your mind is a theatre, and the current showing features the delicious sight of Namjoon, his sculpted abs taut with tension, his neck arching temptingly in alignment with his pale blonde tresses thrown back in abandon as he strained against the pleasure of your mouth laving over his thick, hot, throbbing…  

Fuck. You really needed to stop reading so many romance novels, and you also needed to stop remembering the lingering, savoring kisses, the excruciatingly tender caresses, the passion that made you feel so needy and desperate, the way you almost came apart at the hand of-

Miserable, obliterating hell, you wince, your best friend. Can you even still call him that? Are you still friends, or more, or- shit- even less now that you just had to be a horny slut? The reemerging horror and subsequent shame is enough to send you diving back under the lingering bubbles once more.

The first brisk jolt of the shower does nothing to calm Namjoon’s mind, nor the raging boner he’s been sporting since he pulled out of you.

Oh God, get it together, man. He was ruined, absolutely ruined. He was so stupid for you before, and now this. Why had he ever thought this would be a good idea? But how could he ever walk away from a chance to love you the way you deserved? To make you feel beautiful and desirable, to cherish you in a way that none of the others ever had, the only way that you were worthy of. He would walk through fire doused in gasoline for the chance, and here you were, so trustingly offering yourself into his care. He could not, would not fail. God, if only you knew how much he loved you. Play it cool, Joon. He knew his place, knew you didn’t really see him how he saw you. But he knows he can show you so much more, and now that you’re willing to let him, he’s willing to take it as slow as you need, for as long as it takes. He’s well-equipped for the marathon of bringing you to the fullness of love that he has for you.

It took all of his willpower to walk away from you just now, when everything in him was crying out for you. The longing to take you into his arms and pamper you and whisper words of tender affection into your ears as you reclined against him, as he gently bathed you and scrubbed your worries away as he washes your hair for you… oh too much.

For now, he’d settle for plotting as he temporarily froze his hunger for you with a frigid shower, the only kind that helps. At least, it helped until he allowed himself to remember the sound of you, the feel of you as you writhed under him, lost in the throes of passion. Oh fuck, the smell of you, the taste of you on his tongue… he groaned in torturous recollection, overcome by the memory as his mouth begins to water at the thought of all he’s been missing. You were sweeter than he’d even dared to imagine…. Shit, focus, Namjoon… He turns the temperature of the water even colder as he conjures up mental images of calculus problems, quantitative physics, and chess strategies and tactics so that he can make it through his shower in peace, all while planning a strategy of his own.

Bathwater long gone cold, you accept your fate and brace yourself for an encounter with your roommate-turned-hookup, rounding the corner to the living room/kitchen area with almost militant intent. The curtains are open and the sun is bright, illuminating the clean, peaceful space that is completely foreign from the way you and your girlfriends left it the night before. For a moment, you stand there, a bit lost and blinking. It feels like an age has passed since last night, hell, since this morning. But in truth, it’s still Saturday, and Namjoon is still a sweetheart, which is why he is currently putting breakfast takeout from your favorite diner on plates, the aroma of coffee wafting enticingly toward your caffeine-deprived nostrils. He glances up mid-plating when he hears you enter, scooping up a steaming mug of devil’s brew and handing it to you with a nonchalant brush of his lips against your forehead in greeting.

You pause mid-step, unsure how to proceed, but Namjoon continues serving the food like nothing has happened, launching into a casual recitation of his plans for the day, plans which most notably involve him being gone for a significant portion of the day, beginning shortly after he serves breakfast. You can feel the tension slowly draining from your body as he chatters on, until you’re leaning slightly against the counter watching him work although you don’t quite recall coming further into the room.

Before you can process this further, the movement of a pulled out chair registers in your periphery, distracting you from any unsettling notions. Namjoon waits calmly as he gazes at you, one gently arched eyebrow serving as both invitation and silent challenge. Accepting the seat, you murmur your thanks, stomach complaining loudly in anticipation of the food. “Eat up, it’s all for you,” Namjoon informs you, chuckling as you duck your head in embarrassment and surprise.

“Wait, you’re not eating?” you ask. Even though you aren’t sure if you could be completely comfortable sharing a meal with him so soon after everything that’s happened, you don’t want things to be so awkward that he feels he has to avoid you. Shaking his head no, Namjoon starts to sit down on the edge of the table next you, then seems to think better of it, at the last minute pulling over a chair to your side and plopping down. “I told you earlier, Y/n, I have to go into work today. But,” he pauses, taking a breath, “I did want to talk to you before I left… and I, uh, kinda hoped that the food, you know..” Now you were the one who had to laugh. “Joon, did you hope to coax me out here with food?” Your laughter grows even louder at the sight of Namjoon looking…sheepish. “Well...yes?” And then he was joining you in your laughter.

“Okay, but for real, Y/N, I know that you don’t want to discuss what happened this morning, and like I already said, I won’t ask you to if you would rather not. But I just wanted to say again that I only want you to feel comfortable. I know that I’m asking for a lot, asking you to trust me. I just- I just want to know that we’re okay?” The sincerity shining in his eyes is almost too much, but you know it would hurt his feelings if you looked away right now. “Yeah, Joon, we’re okay; promise.” You see his posture lighten with this, as if a weight has been cast away. Was he really that serious? You don’t know what to do with that information. You decide to file it away for later review, being drawn back to the present moment by the gentle tug of Namjoon’s hand on yours. “I, um, I also wanted to ask…” He’s the first to look away after all, voice trailing, face growing redder as the moment drags on in silence. You wait, assuming he will eventually say what’s on his mind, but the seconds tick by on the wall clock as you watch him seem to struggle in an internal battle, you realize that you are going to have to be the one to gather courage to bridge the gap. “Ask me what, Joon? My food’s getting cold, you have to go to work, and I’m starting to get nervous.” Head snapping up at the sound of your slightly peevish tone, the words seem to fall out before he can fully control them.

“Iwaswonderingifyouwouldstillallowmetotry?” Taking a breath, he tries again. “Sorry- I- I was wondering… if you would still let me try? To, you know?” Closing his eyes briefly, he gathers his courage one more time. That seems to be his thing, you notice vaguely. “I really want to please you, Y/N. Will you let me?” This he says so gently, so intently, that you feel yourself swoon a bit inside. The answer is yes, hell yes, always yes, but your brain fails to communicate the message so you just sit there, staring at him a little lost until you finally realize that he’s still waiting for your response. “Yes,” you nod, a bit dumbly, and the smile that he gives you in return is almost blinding. “Okay,” he sighs, leaning in to touch his forehead to yours before leaping back with a start. “Oh shit, I’m going to be late!” Jumping up, he grabs his keys and bag and heads for the door.

Finally redirecting your attention to your probably-now-cold pancakes, you barely register him say, “I forgot something,” and are startled by the way his face intrudes into your vision, until he kisses you, quickly and suddenly, and you forget everything, too. The tender brush of his lips coaxes and caresses, soothing your lingering worries and filling you with the suggestive promise of more before he pulls away, tasting your lips once more before he speaks. “Thanks for an amazing morning, Y/N,” and then he’s gone for real, and you’re left sitting dumbfounded at the table, food long forgotten. “Thank you, Namjoon.” And for the first time in a long time, you dare to daydream of good things to come.

The warm and fragrant atmosphere of candles at dusk, providing both soft illumination and forgiving shadow. The decadent softness of a plush blanket. The exotic curve of a softly curled wisp of hair. The burnished ochre of a well-loved page, no longer crackling with the crispness of paper newly printed, but rather whispering and sighing like a lover sharing secrets. To Namjoon, that is what Heaven is like, because it is this moment that he is spending with you. In this instant, watching you, curled up against his side with your favorite book, breathing in your tantalizing scent as he pretends to read over your shoulder as an excuse to appreciate the delicate arch of your neck: how could he not feel like the luckiest man alive?

Lips softly trailing behind his fingers as he traces light patterns over your skin, Namjoon’s almost imperceptible sigh echoes your own. It’s been a few weeks since that fateful experience, and Joonie’s been as good as his word. He hasn’t pressured you to have sex again, but he’s been, well, affectionate. It started out slow: with him sneaking quick kisses every now and then or finding reasons to touch you more. But then it evolved and escalated, quickly. Swift pecks turned into much more heated kisses, and tender caresses have started to get a bit hot and heavy at times, but he always seems to bring you to the point of relaxing into it, of enjoying it, and then lets it die away. You’ve been trying not to overthink, not to read even more into this already complicated situation, but then again, when have you ever successfully corralled your brain when it wanted to be chaotic and inconvenient? So, naturally, right now as the two of you are simply basking in each other’s presence, the words are out of your mouth almost as soon as you think them.

“Hey Joon, what are we doing?”

“Hmm?” His reply is notably distracted as he continues to nuzzle his way toward your jawline. “Reading?”

“No,” you begin patiently, although that patience is swiftly disappearing into the fuzzy haze of what you’ve begun to refer to in your mind as “casual lust”, aka whatever the hell it is that Namjoon has been teaching you to feel recently. “No,” you try again, more firmly this time. “I was reading, or trying to.”

His lips pause in their exploratory mission as he sees that you are struggling to concentrate, and in true Namjoon form, he places all of his attention on whatever it is that you wish to say. However, the fingers that continue idly tracing your side still threaten to steal your focus. “I was reading, and you are,” you breathe, “doing, well, this, whatever this is that you’ve been doing. You know, all of it. The touching and kissing. What’s up with that?”

Namjoon has been diligently listening, attentive to hear your concerns, but now that you’ve voiced your complain, he can’t help but smile inside. This is good. You sound slightly disgruntled, but he’s spent the past few weeks learning your body, learning you. He knows that you like it. If anything, you sound… unsettled. Dissatisfied, even. That is very good. It means you’ve been adjusting, getting comfortable with feeling good. Who knows? Maybe soon, you’ll feel comfortable enough to allow yourself to feel even better. Of course, he doesn’t say that.

“Do you mind, Y/N? Does it bother you that I touch you? I can stop if it does…”

“No,” you reply a little too quickly. “I don’t mind. I guess I’m just...curious.” Because it feels like more than just messing around, you think to yourself. It feels...tender...romantic, even. It makes you feel like home, Namjoon, and I don’t know what to do with that.

“Curious?” he parrots. “Then allow me to satisfy you. Your curiosity, I mean.” The devious glint in his eyes confirms that he knows how it sounded and makes you suspect that he meant to give you a double meaning. “I could tell you all the reasons why I can’t seem to keep my hands to myself when you’re around, why I always look for a reason to touch you, why I’m so hungry for that sweet mouth of yours. I could tell you that I am just trying to make you feel good, and that would also be the truth. But in all honesty, Y/N, I just really enjoy kissing you.”

His declaration makes you freeze, but Namjoon gives you no time to think or fret before he’s using his hands and his lips to erase every last thought and potential worry from your brain, his tender kisses branding your flesh with their heat, the gravel in his voice causing your mind to stall and go blank.

“I enjoy it because your skin is so soft, and you taste so sweet, and I love how your eyes close and your mouth falls open because you love the way my lips feel on you… Or am I wrong, Y/N?” Even your name feels like a caress falling from his lips, and the sound of it makes you shiver a little. “Don’t you like the way it feels when I run my lips across your skin, savoring the taste of you?” He knew you did, and heaven help him, he did, too. It would also be true to say that he loves being with you, always has, but he knows that to admit that would scare you, would pressure you. So instead, he’s still honest, but he only tells you what you can stand to hear, what you can handle…

Right now, he knows you could handle a little less talking on his part.

And so, he continues to show you instead, artfully undressing you in a slow, painstakingly deliberate way, feasting on your beauty with his eyes, his hands, his mouth. The praise in his words, the adoration in his eyes, the reverence with which he devours every inch of you, unhurriedly, passionately… it’s enough to lose yourself in the feeling.

His nose brushes the soft skin where your side and hip meets, pausing to inhale the sweet, earthy smell of your arousal heavy in the air. Fuck, you make his mouth water. Placing another kiss, this time at the top of your thigh, he takes another deep breath, this time discreetly reading your body language for any signs of tension or discomfort. His fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, your last remaining article of clothing, lightly teasing both the material and the ticklish skin underneath. “Baby,” the nickname comes so naturally to him now, “may I- Shit.”

The question is interrupted by the jarring ringtone, the obnoxious one that indicates it’s his job calling. His apologetic dimpled expression is all it takes for your to swallow your frustration and give him a forgiving smile as he reaches for the phone, pulling the blanket over you to prevent you from exposure to chill in his absence. As his voice and footsteps fade around the corner, you finally release a shaky breath of pent-up emotion.

Damn, Namjoon is good. It seems that no matter how frequent these encounters have become, he still never fails to leave you breathless. It’s true, that in some perverse way, you’ve gotten used to the initial feelings of arousal-- they don’t frighten you anymore, not in that “he’s expecting something from me” way. Now it’s easier to just relax and go with the flow, if being horny as hell on a regular basis can be considered relaxing. But it is nice to be able to just appreciate feeling good at the hands of a skilled and handsome man without strings attached. Unless of course you count heartstrings. Yours, to be specific. But, yeah, no, you’ve decided you’re not counting.

You’re counting, comparing the number of heartbeats per second against what you consider normal; is your heart beating unusually fast?

And you’re hot; god, why are you so hot all of a sudden?

You feel unsettled in your skin, restless and slightly desperate, and you determine that you must have dozed off while Namjoon was gone. You say “was” because you’re faintly aware of his bodily presence next to you, adding to your body heat.

It’s probably the blanket, you think, and in the next moment you’re peeling back the covers, feeling the cool air ease the discomfort of your skin.

Better.

Only now, you’re aware of your exposed, naked body, of your nipples erect from the chill, of soft hands grazing over your breasts, your collarbone, your stomach… Fuck. It feels so good to be touched, so soothing in the wake of the ache that’s been building in your body for so long.

You’re so needy…

A faint whimper escapes as you feel one nipple pinched, the other one twisted and caressed alternately. More. You need more and you need it now. You’ve no sooner thought the words than the hand pinching and pulling your breast makes its way down your torso, circling and stroking your clit.

So good, it feels so good, but still you need more.

“More, please,” you plead, and you’re rewarded by the stretch of two fingers plundering your heat, while the other hand continues to edge you toward your pleasure. You’re on fire now, but every sensation is hurtling you closer, closer. But you want to see his face, hear his voice. Why won’t he say something?

“Namjoon?” you say, but did your mouth move? “Joon,” you try again, more moan than anything as you feel yourself racing towards the precipice of bliss. “Please.” And then you hear him, sounding so close and so far away.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you,” and then your world is exploding, hard. It feels like worlds are contained in a single moment, all expanding at once to give you a divine glimpse of unnameable glory before it’s all gone again in a blink, and as your body fights to regroup, you’re forced into- awareness?

You awaken breathless and disoriented, forcing your eyes to focus in the dimly dawn-lit room. As you struggle to catch your bearings, your eyes meet Namjoon’s penetrating gaze, dark, hungry and intense as he stares back. A slow smile spreads stealthily across his face, seductive and slightly predatory. “Did you have a nice dream?” he inquires, in a tone a shade too precise to be innocent. Still groggy, you search your brain to try to catch his meaning… until suddenly you falter, recalling the moments prior to your awakening, both figurative and literal. But wait, you scramble mentally to put the pieces together, there’s no way he could know…

Your confusion is written all over your face, and still you flounder, until he reaches out and grabs your hand... the hand that you’ve been touching yourself with in your sleep, now coated with the juices from your thoroughly soaked and sated cunt. Before you can fully allow your mortification to process, Namjoon, the bastard, proceeds to wrap those plush, agonizing lips around your fingers and lick them clean, never breaking eye contact, and the growl of pleasure that escapes his throat is positively feral. Well, fuck.

Part 1 Part 2 Tag list: @lamourche, @brie02, @btsspell, @kpurereactions, @ringsofjoon, @maddoxwildove, @socialmaddox, @chiminiemoans, @serendipitiousbutterfly,  @ogsoftbabyboy, @kludsy, @wallflower060, @chimsinyourarea, @tokikav, @bangtanpraise, @dragonsbbygirl, @awsome-small-k, @notyourtypicalrose, @spider-manblog, @awesome-ash15, @its-joyvely, @swiggitswooggit, @sungoldish, @b-angst-tanrecs, @owls-and-stars,  @everything-got-confusing, @i-hate-this-name-thingy, @imverywiggly, @chimsbabyy, @armyguide, @sosok-lucasa, @markslefttiddie, @awkwardwookie, @loststars2255, @sehuns-vi-vi, @nari-la-morena, @wheelsxsoftiee, @latina-nerd, @sandra123abc, @aeiva, @kaeru012, @kimtaehyungisbiasdestroyer, @jiminsthicccthighs, @xcharlottemikaelsonx, @spike-meowsters, @jiminieslovely, @inlovewithjooniejoonie, @slut-for-fandoms, @mozy-j, @byuns-coco, @jellycake2109, @bitesizebtsrepost, @rosiexx8, @thirstykpophoe, @trashynctzenwritings, @groovygooppersonfish, @mochiiblues, @maryseesthings, @passportapprovedobsessed, @perfect4niall, @scalbra, @sailorjoonies, @amordesiempre01, @bubblyabs, @joonlonelyheartsclub, @speakyourselfloveyourself, @gabriellagena, @shoot-shoot-bang-bang, @lifesaleech, @teddybearmuke, @lyssakrista, @flawlessbitcx, @7sirens, @kittenxo2, @satiricallll, @hellosweetiesworld, @kathrynwynterbourne, @alphnai​, @chocolatedreamlandfury​, @lakeli​, @jkxnochu​, @bangtanhardcore​, @iriswashername​, @bts-7-forever​, @bobatae13​, @jessica-lynn93​, @4namjoon​,  @sakurauchiha2018​

[thosekidswhohuntmonsters]

The Great Perhaps 

Summary: complete and utter Christmas fluff with Loki where he gets you an adorable and thoughtful Christmas gift

Word Count: 3502

Rating: v spicy, deff 18+

Author’s note: it’s so funny to go back and re-read this because oh my god there is SO much of me in this story. I'm like basically letting you all look into parts of my soul with this one...

♡if you enjoy this fic you’re welcome to leave a reblog/like/comment! feedback is not only welcomed but encouraged!♡

You’d been sitting in the kitchen with Bucky, “So doll any ideas what you’re gonna get Loki for christmas?”. You slumped down while letting out at annoyed sigh. Turning your head to the side you said, “Nope not at all”.

Steve joined you both, “We all know it’s the meaning behind it that counts!”. You rolled your eyes but smiled, picking your head up again. Tony joined the room, “You could always let him unwrap you”.

You laughed out loud, “Yeah Tony, that sure would be a meaningful gift huh?”. Tony smirked, placing a kiss on your head as he walked past you to grab something from one of the drawers. Tony faced you again,“Only joking, or am I?”.

Sighing you said, “Come on guys...it’s our first Christmas together and I’m so lost”. The three men were silent for a moment, all trying to come up with something to say. Steve smiled, “Well what’s your favorite memory together?”.

Instantly a smirk formed upon your lips and Bucky laughed, “I’m guessing that’s not a pg memory huh?”. A blush formed upon your cheeks, and you shook your head. Tony grinned, “Looks like (y/n) here has been naughty this year”.

You smiled, “I know exactly what to get him, thank you guys!”. After kissing them all goodbye you ran out of the kitchen, and directly to the library.

When you got to the library you immediately went to your favorite spot in the back corner, your home away from home. It had been the first place you’d met Loki, the first place you’d kissed, and where he’d asked you to be his. When Steve asked you about your favorite memory with Loki, it had happened there.

You went to sit in your favorite seat, until you noticed it was taken by the raven haired prince. He didn’t look up from his book, “What are you doing up at such a late hour?”.

Smirking you sat across from him, “I could ask you the same”. Loki still didn’t pick up his head, but you saw that he was smirking. Looking at the book he was reading you said, “You know, if you love that author I have the perfect book for you”.

The last thing you’d expected was to walk in on Loki reading a John Green novel, but you had a feeling there was a lot no one knew about him.

He raised an eyebrow, “Do you now, darling?”. His voice sent shivers down your spine, your mind automatically drifting to dirtier places. Pushing them away you said, “I could give you my copy”.

Loki picked his head up, he was intrigued by how kind you were being to him. You reached for the backpack you’d brought with you, and pulled out you personal copy of “Looking For Alaska” by John Green.

Smiling you placed it onto the table, sliding it to his side, “I always keep it on me”. Loki smiled, and to your surprise took the book in his hands. He flipped through the pages, smirking to himself when he noticed how worn they were.

Loki reached down into his own bag, pulling out his favorite novel. Your eyes lit up, “Is that yours?”. As Loki looked down upon the book he laughed lightly to himself.

Before handing the book to you he said, “I’d found it on my first trip to Midgard many many years ago, and have always kept it with me since”. In his hands he held, “The Great Gatsby” by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Loki moved to hand you the book, but before you could reach it pulled back.

He was grinning, “I shall only read yours if you read mine, is that a deal?”. You found yourself smirking as well, and you nodded your head. Reaching for the book you said, “Deal”.

And that was it, the start of it all.

You’d went to where you’d left your bag, and pulled out your personal copy of the book. You loved the book, but you’d loved what it had given you more. Loki was secretly a hopeless romantic, and you knew that giving him the book would be the perfect gift.

As you sat down at the table you decided you’d write him a message on the first page. The words easily flowed from your mind, you pen soon filling up the page.

“Dear Loki,

I should’ve known what I was getting into the first night we met and I saw that smirk of yours...I think part of me did and that’s why I flirted with you. I can now admit I was flirting with you haha.  This book mentions the idea of a great perhaps, looking for something gives your life meaning, and I think I’ve finally found mine. You’re my great perhaps Loki Laufeyson, from the moment I first met you that’s when I truly started living.

Always yours, (y/n).”

When you finished writing the letter you closed the book, you were beaming with happiness. For the last part of his gift you decided to frame your favorite picture of you both. In the picture you were sitting on his lap, his arms wrapped around you as his head rested in the crook of your neck.

You went back to your room, wrapping them all together. As you looked at your phone you’d realized you’d finished just in time, two or so minutes to spare. Grabbing the gifts, you made your way towards his room where you’d agreed to exchange gifts.

You knocked on the door, and heard Loki moving around before saying, “Come in love”. As you opened the door and walked into the room your jaw dropped. The entire room was beautifully decorated with lights and other Christmas themed things.

Loki even had his own tree and you were mesmerized. Smiling you said, “This is pretty impressive for your first christmas Loki”. As he watched you, he found himself smirking. Loki felt proud of himself.

He wasn’t done yet, as Loki snapped his fingers his fireplace magically started. You instinctively went and sat down in front of it, “This is all so beautiful Loki!”. Loki joined you, sitting next to you.

You’d remembered your gift, “This is for you, look now-”. Loki laughed lightly, taking your gift in his hands. He cut you off, “I’m sure it’s wonderful darling”. You smiled, but your nerves were unbearable.

As you watched him you put one hand over your mouth, insanely nervous. The thing was that this was his first christmas, and you didn’t want to ruin it for him. Briefly you’d closed one of your eyes, until you heard him gasp.

Loki was shocked, “Darling are you sure-”. You nodded while smiling, “Open it and you’ll know why”. Loki’s lips moved along as he read the words to himself, his eyes growing wide.

You were even more surprised when instead of saying something, he crashed his lips against yours. He pulled you forward and into his lap so you were now straddling him. When the kiss was over you breathlessly asked, “So you like it?”.

He cupped your face, “I love it...I love you”. It had been the first time he’d ever told anyone that, the first time those words left his lips, and the first time he was truly sure about how he’d felt.

For a second you didn’t say anything, so caught up in the moment. As Loki watched you finally smile he let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding in. Wrapping your arms around him you said, “I love you Loki Laufeyson”.

His face lit up as he remembered, “Now it’s time for my gift”. Reluctantly you got off of his lap, letting him go grab his gift. It was only a moment or so before Loki plopped back down beside you, the gift in his hands.

“You even wrapped it!” you said while admiring it. Loki grinned, “Don’t tell me you doubted me love?”. Laughing you shook your head, “Never”. Loki leaned back, waiting for you to finally open it.

You jaw dropped as you unwrapped the gift. It was a heart shaped golden locket, vine and flower textured patterns all over it, and even occasional hints of green. You opened it, and automatically smiled to yourself as you read what was engraved on the inside.

Looking up to him you read it, “they slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered”. Loki smiled along with you, happy that you understood the reference. It was from the book he’d given you as part of your deal.  As you looked to the other side of the locket, it included the same picture you’d given him.

You shook your head, “I can’t believe the odds Loki...same picture...both mentioning our favorite books...god are we predictable?”. Loki just laughed, keeping his sudden realization to himself.

Loki remembered a conversation he’d had with Frigga while he’d been confined in his cell. He had thought nothing of it at the time, but now knew that what’d she spoke of had been true.

“Loki I know that you believe there is nothing for you to live for, that your years to come shall only be filled with loneliness, but you are wrong. If you shall open yourself up, you will find what you have been searching for..who you have been searching for. And it shall only take but one moment for you to realize so”.

When Loki looked at you now realized that this was the moment she had spoken off. You two were so in sync, so comfortable around each other, and that wasn’t something that came easily to Loki.

Smiling he stood up, “Let me put it on your darling”. You took his hand, letting him help you stand up. Loki stood behind you as you held up your hair. His cold hands teased your skin as be put the necklace on you, placing kisses along your neck as he did so.

He whispered into your ear, “Ek elska þik”. You could tell by the way it sounded that it was old norse. Turning to face him you asked, “What does it mean?”. Loki stood there with an enormous smile on his face.

“It means that I love you (y/n)”. Teasingly you raised an eyebrow at him, “You’re lucky I trust you Loki, because you could have literally told me you’re afraid of the dark and I’d have no idea”.

Together you both laughed, and you reveled in how beautiful he sounded. Loki took your hand in his, bringing it to his lips. Before kissing it softly he said, “There is something I want to show you (y/n)”.

You wiggled your eyebrows, and he smirked. He still held your hand, “My my pet, I am influencing you aren’t I?”. You nodded your head while giggling. Watching his face you saw his expression harden.

“What do you want to show me Loki?”. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, encouraging him. He held your gaze, “As you know I am not of Asgard...I am from Jotunheim”.

You nodded your head so he continued, “Which means my current state is not my true form..”. Your lips parted, and your eyes widened with excitement. He swallowed hard, “I wish to show you my true form (y/n)...now that I know I trust you”.

Loki scanned your face for any hint of apprehension, but smiled when he saw only excitement in your eyes. Smiling you replied, “I’d love to Loki”.

He smiled, “Close your eyes pet”. You nodded your head and did as he asked. Only a moment later you heard him say, “Now open”. When you opened your eyes, your jaw dropped.

His skin was a beautiful deep blue, covered with patterns of a light blue, his eyes a deep red. You looked down to his hand, and traced a pattern up his arm.

You brought your hand back, “I’m sorry..I just...it’s so beautiful”. Loki blinked, “I beg your pardon?”. You laughed softly, tracing the patterns once again. Holding his gaze you repeated yourself, “Your skin is beautiful Loki...and your eyes too”.

His voice was soft, “You are not frightened by my true state?”. You shook your head while bringing one hand up to cup his cheek. Your lips were inches from his, “I love you Loki which includes your true form”.

You watched his chest rise and fall, as his eyes moved quickly looking over your face. He smiled one last time before crashing his lips against yours. The kiss was extremely hungry, his tongue flicking over your bottom lip, marking your mouth open.

As the kiss became hungrier Loki pushed you backwards until you both fell onto his bed. Loki landed so you were on top of him, his back pressed against the headboard. His hands quickly explored your body, the kiss only breaking to take off your clothing.

When his bare chest was exposed you softly said, “Oh- Loki”. The most intricate patterns of light blue covered his entire chest, leading to other parts of his body. Loki groaned as your  light touches teased his skin.

Loki leaned forward, tangling one of his hands in your hair. His free hand hooked around your waist, bringing your chest to rest against his. Once again he kissed down your neck, now exploring your body with both hands.

Loki hungrily cupped your ass, pulling your hips forward to grind against him. His voice was rough, “I cannot wait any longer”. Before you could wonder what he’d meant he snapped his fingers, your clothes disappearing.

Instantly his mouth went to your breasts, sucking and kissing your nipples. You moaned loudly, “Loki fuck”. It felt so good that you bucked your hips forward, making Loki groan. He held onto your hips tighter, “Oh pet...so eager for me”.

You could feel his hardness pressing against you, “You want this just as badly Loki”. His laugh was so low that it was almost a growl. He held your chin in his hand, “God I love you”.

You couldn’t believe the words had come out so needy, “Then fuck me”. Loki looked at you, stunned for a moment. He grinned before kissing you again, somehow more passionately than the first time.

Slowly he placed you onto your back, propping himself up as he leaned above you. You tangled your hand in his hair, bringing his head closer to yours. Smiling you said, “I am all yours Loki”. That was all he needed.

Loki slid one hand down your thigh, bringing it up to hook around his back. His member was pressed against your slit, teasing you. He kissed down your jawline, sucking on the more sensitive parts of your skin.

You were putty in his hands and he hadn’t even started. Moaning you begged, “Loki more-”. You felt him smile against your skin, and you loved the feeling. He leaned back, and you instantly missed be so close.

He moved down your body until his mouth was hovering over your folds. Loki kissed up your thigh, and with each slight touch of his lips you moaned. Loki was becoming lost, you were so intoxicating to him.

With one hand he parted your folds, and his cold fingers against your hot skin were magic. As he spoke his hot breath teased you further, “I have never met someone who has consumed me the way you have”.

“You have no idea how much I think about you...dream about you….dream about moments like this”. He placed a light kiss on your clit, making you jump. His strong hands moved to your thighs, pressing them into the bed.

He held you in place, “Moments were you become so lost in pleasure...you have no idea how beautiful you look..how beautiful you sound...you’re like a spell my love….each second I find myself more intoxicated by you”.

Finally he flicked his tongue over your clit, driving you wild. Loki held you into place as his mouth worked wonders against your skin. His tongue moved in all different directions, all different speeds.

You were gripping the sheets, calling out his name. Loki only went faster, determined to make you feel as good as he could. He loved this, loved how in control he was. Your breathing was becoming more rapid, “Loki-”.

He sat back up, “Although I would love to feel you come undone around my tongue pet, I would much rather enjoy feeling myself buried deep inside of you”. That was the first time you had heard him talk like that, and you gasped out of pleasure.

Loki crawled back up to you, the biggest smile upon his lips. You pulled him close, your bodies becoming tangled together once again. You couldn’t kiss each other fast enough, your lips moving together as one.

He hooked one of your legs around his back again, his head teasing your entrance. Your breath hitched as you held his gaze, “Loki take me...claim me as yours”. Loki moaned loudly as he finally entered inside of you.

Slowly he rolled his hips forward, letting you adjust to his size. You wrapped your hands around his neck, holding him close to you. His lips met yours once again, like there was some magnet pulling you together.

“Oh Loki” you rolled your hips forward to meet his. You loved the feeling of him filling you up like this. He only broke the kiss to whisper into your ear, “Say my name again”. His voice was so rough, so demanding.

Loki started to pick up the pace as you moaned, “Loki...fuck...Loki”. Your words encouraged him, making him enter deeper and deeper inside of you. He held your gaze, “Let everyone know whos making you feel so good”.

Your other leg hooked around his back, letting him thrust even deeper. He was hitting your g-spot, “Loki..Oh Loki-”. Each time you called out his name he hit your most pleasurable spot. You felt yourself getting closer to climax.

His breathing became heavier, “That’s it my pet...that’s it”. By now the entire room was filled with your moans, and you wondered if the entire compound could hear you. His thrusts were becoming sloppier, and you could tell he was just as close.

He nibbled your ear, “Cum with me (y/n)...cum with me now”. You closed your eyes, letting your orgasm take control. From his moans and groans you could tell he was right there with you.

Your orgasm shook throughout your entire body like a tsunami, waves and waves of pleasure crashing over you. You felt Loki twitch inside of you, and all you could do was call out his name.

Loki was just as loud as his own orgasm overcame him. He’d never felt something this intense before, something this pleasurable. You just held onto each other, riding out these feelings of ecstasy.

As he caught his breath, coming down from the most intense high he’d ever felt, Loki pressed his forehead against yours. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you just grinned, “It’s never felt like that before”.

Loki laughed softly, letting himself fall onto the bed next to you. Grinning like a madman he said, “I imagine it’s because the way we feel about each other….our intense love for one another”. Smirking you turned onto your side, resting against his chest.

You traced the light blue patterns of his skin, “Loki Laufeyson, secret hopeless romantic”. You felt his chest vibrate against your body as he laughed loudly. He held you tightly, pulling you closer to his side.

Loki kissed your forehead, “So how did I do for my first Christmas?”. It was your turn to laugh. You moved to straddle him once again, your hands pressed against his chest. Smirking you said, “I think we both know that was just the best Christmas of my entire life”.

Loki looked up to you with love in his eyes, “I think if we spend every holiday like this..I’ll be quite fond of other Midgard celebrations”. You rolled your eyes, but found yourself giggling.

Leaning down you kissed him, “I love you Loki”. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close against his chest. His voice was soft, “You have no idea how much you mean to me (y/n)...how much you have given me...”.

You listened to the rise and fall of his chest, feeling yourself becoming overcome by sleep. As your eyes closed you heard him say, “You are my reason to live (y/n) and I shall love you until my last breath”.

Loki held onto you tighter, feeling at peace as you fell fast asleep against his chest. For once in his life Loki felt sleep overcoming him. As he closed his eyes he saw no bad memories, just you. Loki smiled, letting himself fall asleep.

♡ thank you for taking the time to read this, you’re a babe♡

Forever tags: aka some amazing people: @moonlessnight14 @sexyvixen7 @angieptt​ @painkiller80 @becca-dolan @team-heichou @thatpeachybandgirl​ @allthesesonsobitches @buckybarneshairpullingkink @couldabeenamermaid​ @taeeemin​ @littleredstarfish @nali67​ @only4wakingup​ @mcenziehughes​

*if there is a line through your name that means that for some reason it won’t allow me to tag you*

*forever tags are always open*

[charmed-asylum]

👨‍🍳# FOODIE👨‍🍳

#Foodie, Part 1 

Summary: Something happening in Easter Hills. Something that effecting everyone under the surface. Could this just be a phase a trick that no one can shack off? Is this something that will pass with another or can we all be heading for destruction

Declaimer: #Foodie has some curse words, use and mention of drugs, and roadkill. Also, I do have dyslexia so be easy with me!!! 

A/N:So who would think after doing a love story I go be switching it up to some sci-fi. Let me know what you think or want to be added to the taglist. Or simple to sit my butt down and stop with the dramatics xoxo Tia

Word Count: 6,336

MASTER LIST 

Tagged: @linkispink1995​ @weapinggwillowss​ @strangerfictions​

I wish I could remember what it was. Could it be the color of the sky, how tall the grass starts to grow in Mr. Jackson ranch-style house across the street, or maybe it was the air? The way the breeze would flow dance across the sky. I wish I can tell you. Even now even after so many months that have passed, I don't remember. One thing I do know is it started Columbus Day weekend. It was it at once and maybe that why no one realizes it till it was too late. I wish I was stronger maybe I could have done something. Then again who am I kidding?

The seasons have changed but I could still remember the rush I felt when I pelted my way down my street cracked concerted road. I did not have much control in my life but bike rides were all mine. Tomorrow was finally gonna be the day I been waiting for months for. He was finally coming back to me. As I turn into the parking lot of Easter Hills High it was already a full parking lot. The next song started to play when I saw a familiar face across the parking lot surrounded by a group of posters and zombies. Have you ever thought about your soul - can it be saved? 

Or perhaps you think that when you're dead you just stay in your grave. I was still playing when tossing over my beat-up backpack over a shoulder.

" What you barbie slut" voice that belongs to the center of the crowd's attention.

Janet was a type of girl that was born pretty and perfect. I always wonder how we became friends. She tells me it is because the sun always needs the moon and stars. I tell her I am nothing but a black hole. There was a time was little I thought maybe there was more to that but after a kiss under the stars, I was lost with the dyer fear of losing her. So we just became what we are now the infinite duo. Her red ginger hair dance with the cool Midwestern breeze as her Mona Lisa's lips playfully move with each word drew more and more people closer and closer. 

" Space cadet stuck in orbit again huh" Janet said with her hand on her hip. I smiled with crimson color coming across my cheeks as I close the gap between us too. 

"Sorry. Just nerves. Can we talk before homeroom J" I asked not paying anyone around us any attention. I already knew what the whispers were about the same thing it always is why. She crocks her pear shape face to the side and her hazel eyes stare into my brown ones. That was another thing we just got each other. She was the fun bi sexual goddesses I was just me the girl who happens to have gotten lucky. 

Without a word, she licks her lips then places two fingers in her mouth to make a V and whistle for her things which a freshman was holding her. After a simple wink and kiss on the cheek to that freshman, she walks off with us being hand and hand to our spot. 

I look around before sitting on the swing and watch as she pops a few of her mom Dextromethorphan like it was a mint. With a big smile, she jumps onto the swing and kick back her feet and smiled. I wish I was like her ability to be free able to kick back and not care but I never was given that ability given that chance. Her long hair moves with her back and forth as she sings Katy Perry off-key. 

" Thank I, huh I been thinking. I think I'm ready to you know with KP" I blur out with my hands cling to the chains for my life. My eyes close shut till I was seeing rainbow loading wheels across my eyes sight. SLAP " What the hill billy hell. That hurt" I said opening my eyes wide and rub my thigh. Janet shook her head and look like me I had 101 heads attach to my head.

" Issac. Are you shitting me right now" Janet said now standing in front of me. Her hazel eyes twinkle with the sun. 

I slowly roll my bottom lip thought my teeth a few times before I look up at her like a kid who had her hand in the cookie jar with chocolate all over my face. She got closer and stop me so I have to look at her. I hated how she gets me to talk when I was not ready to. I dazed out to pass her to the tall grass that sways with the wind. Right before that was a raccoon who has been a sacrifice to the roadkill gods. 

" Yes. We have been together for three half years and I'm gonna be 18 in a few months. I don't want to lose him. I mean he already talks about marriage and stuff. How we are meant to be with one another. Him in the war what if he does not make it. Next time. I am just thinking about it. I never do anything. Janet Florence Bates. Either I am too chicken scraps about it or I can die. I am so sick of living out in this world in a bubble" I said finally looking to those Friday afternoon hazel eyes.

She nods and took my hands. Rubbing her white french tip thumb against my skin she brought it up to her heart. " One thing I wish I did was to wait. Remember when we were in seventh grade and I dared to do seven minutes in heaven with Derek Miller. You told me that I was still worth the universe no matter what. Do-" She was cut off with the sound of the second bell. " Shit I need to see Popi before class. Tell them I am using the bathroom and oh it that time of the month" Janet said over her shoulder as she ran over to find her girlfriend. 

" I said that last week J" I shout out.

Walking backward Janet thought about it, " He doesn't know how a woman body works". I laugh as I made my way down the busy streets also know as the hallways.

I just made it with a second to spare. Taking a deep breath in I nod to the teacher went to my seat. Putting my backpack on the desk to make a pillow I lean my head on it and look out the window. The once busy parking lot was empty with no one. Corner of my eyes I saw some movement. For a second look like I saw a squirrel eating the dead raccoon. Its fur was cover in a bit blood on its paws and tail. Getting up from I walk over to the window. Still watching the squirrel. 

" MISS. SMITH. SIT DOWN FOR ANNOUNCEMENTS" the teacher said taking her out her trance. Giggles and fingers were pointing as I look around. mouth sorry and ease back into my seat look down at my hands. Moments later Janet rush in with a huge smile on her face, She stays upfront to flirt with the teacher taking his glasses and rolling it in her mouth as she explains the female privates. Buzz Buzz.

Mi Amor: Hav fun in school. I see you tomorrow bae. IYL

 I look up and suppressed a greedy smile.

 Me: Can not wait. xxx.

I smiled and glance outside. The squirrel was gone but so was most of the raccoon. My curl drop in front of my face. My eyes wide as I look around it was not even ten minutes how did that happen. It is only your mind. After trying to calm my nerves I settle and got ready for the day. The thing about going to school in a dead zone is not much happening each day is the same. The coolest thing we had to happen was when Sally Maxfield got fifth place in the nearby town beauty competition. We were the one place the devil probably send folks as a line of torture. Everyone knew each other and marries one another. Grow old have kids work the same jobs your parents or neighbor had. Just so happen my parents two of the coolest jobs. Mother was assistant to the mayor and my dad work as a scientist that was a station out here. They move here when they got married I still do not get that. Nose deep in my latest novel off my four pages list. I felt a few pokes on my back. 

" Guess what I heard from Paul in six periods of American History. Looks like the old hag bit the dusk and they just found her body this morning. Guess what with just her body and her 20 cats. God Issac if I end up anywhere close to that kill me" Janet said pulling out her lunch, sushi, and flavor water.

" Lunch looks smaller than last week. Another diet J. I do not know why you do that your perfect" I said pulling out my lunch with a sigh. Janet peak over at me and my silver can lunch box cover in bumper stickers. Janet rolls her eyes and sips her cool water. I took out my lunch: a bottle of filter water, steal tight thing of organic crackers, dried up fruits, and a mystery meal ( as my mom called it). She stops mid-chew and looks at me with doubt and wonder. 

" What that" Janet said looking over my lunch. Apart from I wanted to chuckle each day the same thing. Sipping my water I turn to look at her. My legs shielding hers

"It is my lunch crackers fruit. Want some" I said holding out the mystery meal packet 

" Wait for a second that fruit. I do not get you. I come with my lunch and you have that. Still, you cover your eyes during the sex parts" Janet asked. My smile got bigger as I nod. Her face still in disbelief.

" Yes. Because I will like to live till my 18 birthday. J. Do not forget the ice cream birthday cake, spaghetti, banana nut bread, or many other times I chance it" I said turning back to the table Janet always got me to throw reasoning away.

" Just be careful that it looks like it will attack you alright. Space cadet" Janet said poking at my lunch to see if it moved. I wish to chance it was a luxury for me but never is, I will never be normal and for that, I am the envy of everyone. The problem goes down to the simple fact of an allergy I have a very rare very troublesome allergy, Eosinophilic Gastrointestinal Disorder. Long story short think of anything fun and add a 99% chance I can die of it. 

" God damn it. Did you hear me? The last two periods we going on some field trips to the Coast Forrest for science today" Janet said wiping her mouth. Nodding I look at my half-eaten lunch. "Popi gonna meet us there. She got these new drugs called Trippe that her hook up gave her. I talk her into allowing me to try it with her. Maybe get some others to buy some. It is organic you should try some" Janet said checking her makeup in her little compact mirror. I gentle took a deep breath out and move a few curls behind my ear as I tried to remind Janet again I can not do that. Then she must have seen my thoughts as she pointed to me with her lipstick and said, " It is organic. You eat all that weird shit. What to say that and Trippe are not made of the same shit" Janet said putting her stuff away.

I wanted to tell her no but instead, I said I think about it before she went off to get last night's homework from someone. I loved her with all my heart but sometimes she just did not get me. Crazy how you can love someone with all your heart. Not want anything from it just a simple notion that you will never be alone. Someone that will have your back and would never judge you. No one did but KP ever promises you that.

Mi Amor: I wish you are here. I feel so alone.

I waited a few more minutes for him to reply till I decide he probably was on the plane and could not reach me. Rubbing the back of my neck I close my eyes. God did I need sleep and a bubble bath. Noise rattle my nerves and the never-ending sound of people screaming made me flinched. Jumping up I look around before heading out to the bathroom to finish my lunch. Last year its been like this need want to escape want some time alone. Maybe its fact in a few months I will be graduating. I will be free to be me whatever that was. As my phone alarm ring, I slowly got up from my spot on the floor and got ready to head back before Janet realize I was gone. With my head hanging low I walk over to the sink to flush away any doubt of living any sadness I been feeling. water dripping from my face I look back at my reflection. Brown sugar eyes looking back with my hair full-blown curl thanks to the cold water. My button nose raw from the tears I just finished having. Taking another breath in I grab the end of my dress and rub my face.

The ride to Coast Forrest was roughly 15 minutes long. Janet was sitting next to Popi kissing like horny rabbits and I sat beside them by the window. Popi cool. She wears her hair short blonde with pink tips pixie cut with random drunken mistakes to remind her you only live once and a nose ring with a lip tattoo that said suck it. At first, she did like me worried I was trying to take Janet away till I reassure her what I and Janet have will always be a deep unbreakable friendship and I was happy with KP. Once I asked her if she can do a sharpie tattoo out of pure boredom she grew a flower crown on my wist. Which she now does every time she sees me. My arm the blanket canvas for her crazy thoughts. Colors change as I wave my hands up and down as if I was fish in the open water.

Coming out for air Janet smirk at me and whisper into Popi's ear. With a nod, Popi took out her bag and hand Janet something when no one but me was looking. 

" So I heard you might be adventuring out my young grasshopper. Finally going to get some action huh" Popi said sniffing her nose-wiping away the last bit of blow she did before getting on the bus. I peak over to Janet who just whistles and spoke to a random person behind us.

" Maybe. YOYO right" I said licking my bottom lip

" God Smith you something. So fucking cute. little puppet" Popi said pinching my arm. 

" Tell her about Trippe baby" Janet added.

" Thanks, angel. Huh, so what my guy told me this is some top-shelf shit. Like the best of the best only take. I am talking mob cartel you name it and its all made on some hippie compound. I am one of the first to have it" Popi pointed out proud of herself. She took one out and handed it to me.

" How do you take it. I never sniff anything before. Or put anything up my butt" I asked curiously.

Janet giggles at my response and hugs over to speak to me without anyone hearing us." From what Popi heard it pretty much either end type of drug but oral tends to work find. The away only thing we want poking you in the but is Kindred Phillip Richards thick long penis" Janet laugh.

It was small and look like something out a Candy land world. The packing was the neon pick with a smiley face with its tongue out and eyes cross out. As I play with it looking at it closer it had a strange symbol on it. Inside the little baggie was a pill shape drug with what looks to be a liquid power inside. While Popi was trying to talk a boy into a threesome with Janet and herself. I snatch a picture on my Polaroid camera and stuff it in my pocket. I look at it once more. It was inviting but apart of me was not sure. Kind of like it was a candy a treat. Last time I tried something Janet said it was alright. I end up in ICU for two months. Everything around her tone out as she kept playing with this drug in her hands. Very own mystery. What made this so special so welcoming. Bring it closer to my nose I let it linger see if I can figure what it was made off. I had a nose for such things. Lana Del Rey plays on my head as I play with it. It was organic maybe it was safe to do it. 

" We are here. I have to make a phone call. So just take a paper and start feeling it out" Mr. Lopez said. He was probably going to scream at his soon to be ex-wife who ran off with their younger babysitter last week.

Second, he left everything to reassure. Loud noises left and right. Booming. Popi look at me and took the drug out my hand and gave Janet the nod. Show Time. Janet gave both of use a wink before she swings herself up to stand on the seat Dead Poet Society style. Flipping her hair she screams HEY. Everyone's eyes shift to Janet quite waiting on her hand and foot. With a wolf grind, she grabs up the drug and tosses it up and down in the air.

" Alright shit brains and posers. I got here the upcoming stuff that every one that is hot now is doing. Actors athletes business people and even world leaders. This stuff here is told to make oxy look like a sugar-free candy. This stuff is fully organic and to give you a ride of your life. Once you have it once you never find anything to get you this fuck up ever again. Word around this Trippe would put you on a ride you will never forget So who wanna party" Janet said jumping down to the ground with her hands up above her head. I was the first to clap much sooner then I should of. Most look at me and I turn and look outside at Mr. Lopez on the verge of tears. Everyone was shouting not wanting to be left out wanting in on the mystery on the trend. As Popi passed it out Janet took the money stuffing it into her bra. Till everyone had one. All glee with excitement thrilled to do it.

" Hey, you ready" Janet asked. I look at her and went to grab some money taking out a twenty I slowly hand it to her. They all went to take it and as I am about to take it I stop and shoot up. My breathing got short and I clench to the seat trying to catch it. I felt tears as a minor panic attack was coming ahead. My sight got dizzy and I shock my head crying a silent cry. Janet stops before taking it and looks at me holding tight to my chest. 

" I can't I can not take it. I can not take the gamble. J I am so sorry. I wish I could" I said trying to stop the tears. People around me starting to go down on their trip. Some started to laugh like drunken hyenas, a few spaces out like a psychic patient drop on drugs, some were paranoid with a flinch and rest was a mixture of emotions. I slowly got my things together and try to head for the door. An arm stops me and pushes me back down.

" Where are you going. Come on. Amaryllis. It alright. Just do it" Janet said shoving it into my face. I shook my head no and push it away. I look around everything was spinning. 

" I can not do that. You know I can die Janet " I plead to her. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Walking back to Popi she said something to her as I stood still rubbing my arm looking at the ground. 

"You are full of bullshit. Issac. Why is it one second your talking about fucking your boyfriend and next to your acting like a little kid? Is this thing you have any real or is it all fake just like you"Janet hissed. I knew she was already high from whatever she was doing but the words still hurt. It made everything hurt ten times more.

Without speaking I shook my head and left the bus. I had to get as far as I could before the tears came down. I tried KP once again but no answer. I don't know how far I was got before I finally stop. Green was cover everywhere like a sea of green. I slowly drop to my knees and allow my hands to become one with nature. I lean back and breathe. Rubbing my hands from the tip of my head across my neck down to my sides. My eyes fill with tears glitter flowing around. I calm myself with words of encouragement. I turn my head to see a few deer and bears running away passed me. Stopping I slowly got up to my feet and look around. I did not hear any birds no bugs. I stalked over where they were running from till I saw it. A dead deer laying in a bed of white flowers. That was not what scared me it was rabbits eating away the deer. It fills me with fear and dread. I slowly step back to I am far enough to run. I ran an ran till I hit a branch. As the visions slowly started to fade images of the dead animals came to mind on repeat.  I should have known that was only the beginning

Rain and the distant sounds of voices woke me up. The ground was wet and droplets kept falling into my face. Everything was fuzzy and for a second I forgot where and how I got where I am at. Taking a second in I slowly got to my feet thanks to a tree nearby. The voices got louder and I slow recognized it as Mr. Lopez. How long have I been out? 

Licking my lips I call out where I was. Till I saw a flashlight beaming into my face. Covering my eyes with my hand the footsteps grew closer and closer.

" God. Miss. Smith. Where have you been I been looking everywhere? For you. I am so sorry. I thought you were on the bus then when we got back I did not see you and your mom called the cops. We have been looking for you for a few hours" Mr. Lopez said smoothing the hair out my face. 

Holding onto him tight I cried into the crook of his neck not letting go of his green polo shirt that was too small and a bit skin would peak out. But I did not care I was scared. He slowly helps me stable myself and ushers me to the rest of them. There was a small crowd with flashlights. A woman with fair skin that complements her tall thin body with piercing blue eyes ran towards throw the crowd calling out my name with a man espresso skin and dark short black hair and fitted glasses.

" Amaryllis. My baby" Mom called out as the space between us got smaller. I left Mr. Lopez behind and ran into my mom's arms muffling my cries with her long black hair. I could hear her say thank you to Mr. Lopez but I did not move. I do not remember making it home.

I did not remember anything till I was laying in my twin size bed bundle under my warm blue glitter comforter in one of KP old football jersey. I did not hear from Janet and no one from the class was there looking. I would say I was hurt but the words she said still sting.

" Hey, Amaryllis. Its dad I am coming in" Dad said coming in.

I turn my head to see him walking in with an old antique tray with two small teacups. I slowly got up and look at him with a sad smile. Daddy always knew when it was tea time.

" Thanks, dad. Sorry for carrying you and mommy" I said bring my knees to my chest. He smiled and play with my hair in his hands.

" What happen kiddo. What made you run off like that " He asked. I wish I could tell the truth wish I can give him the full story. But to do that I will put more people in trouble and danger then I will want. So like every time before I lied. 

" The kids said something. I did not agree. I went off to take pictures when I trip and fell. I am so sorry" I said looking into the teacup.

" Promise you will never let anyone including Janet or Kindred to disrespect you. Make you feel little" Dad said drinking the tea. I nod and stay quiet as he started to talk about his newest discovery.

The next couple of days I stayed home after my blood work came back off from stress. I hide away from everyone only speaking to my mom, dad, and text and phone calls from KP. I planned not too obsessed but by day two of my week off, I look and look till my finger got numb of Janet and Popi social media. Folks in Easter Hills, New Mexico wasn’t smart. From what was a bus of 25/30 of my peers slowly becoming the whole school in a matter of days. Everyone praising about Trippe. If it was not about that stupid drug it was dead inside pictures of Janet smiling or as of Thursday at 4:36 pm food. I thought about speaking to her but each time by the second ring I hang up.

Mrs. Ethan was the town vet and all-around queen of gossip. We both have a love to talk about the endless amount of facts and news around the world. She had a job and a life I admire minus the gossip and heavy wine drinking. Today she was allowing me to take the lead of performing an emergency C section on a third-place local star Bichon Frise Mr.Fuzzy Bear.

“ Now Issac remembers gentle across right there till your right here” Mrs. Ethan said standing beside me as I slowly made the incision across the lower abdomen. After each step, I ask a few questions and checking everything I was doing was right. 

Inside Mr. Fuzzy Bear after the chew toy was this strange clear like glitter goo. I reach down and look at his pupils which were highly diluted for the meds with gave him to sleep. Mrs. Ethan was taking care of some paperwork in her office so I grab a few test tubes and draw a bit of blood. Nothing is more important than checking all your boxes. After I scoop out all the strange goo out of him I stitch him up and put him in a cage for later.

“ Yes thank you. Oh yes. I will be coming that way on the fifth of next month. Thank you let me know when you got the payment” Mrs. Ethan said. After the end of the call, she spins in her chair kicking and cheering out loud. 

“ Found some blurry treasure. Mrs. Ethan” I said leaning by the doorway with my legs cross one another.

“ Yes. A seller I know in New York came across a set of six large 1970s green glass Italian Chianti bottles. Only roughly 3,000. He gonna hold it for me for two weeks. Huh heaven, Issac heaven” She said full of glee.

“I thought you just like expensive wine ?” I asked. She once shows me her prize-winning collection of wine in her underground cellar with over 50,000 dollars worth. Even my parents were impressed which is a very hard thing to do.

 “ Yes. But honey a girl can never have too many toys and finer things in life. Like that boy toy of yours. Seeing him soon right” Mrs. Ethan said with a wink. Before I could tell her anything she ways already on the phone to give the good news to her husband. I would have told her after my dad ban any date night I have not seen KP yet well besides the two times he hike up the side of the house to my window to cuddle with me or how I cried into his arms one night about how rude Janet was to me. 

School felt different from the week I missed. Was it the scent in the air the vibe that was off. Something that did not fit right. Mr. Lopez was the 1st to check on me which I could not hear much of because people were talking about Trippe or what was for lunch. Even Mr. Lopez who acts like no one noticed had a neon pink little baggie poking out from his briefcase.

Me: Save me I feel I jump fell right into the Twilight Zone.

Mi Amor: Baby lmao. I am sure its nothing. 

Me: Ur right. Thnx xx I have lunch wish me good luck.

I pulled tight to my backpack and pull right through the double metal doors. I put a lot more effort today in what I look like out of my dresses and overalls with a pair of baby blue flared jeans with a thick black melt and a red long sleeve crop top that wasn’t one from it being two sizes too big. The lines on for food were three times longer than usual. And there wasn’t much talking like there usually is. I just did not feel like the Easter Hills High that I been going to for four years now. What made it more strange seeing Janet hunch over like she was a prisoner. Her hair wasn’t done like it usually is. Flat and lifeless and she has dark bags under her eyes. Worried was not the word for it. There wasn’t one.

  “Hey J. Long time no see huh pickle breathe” I said kicking a pretend rock with my black velvet Superga platform sneakers. Janet did recognize me at first no one did. So I got closer and poke her shoulder a few times. By the fifth poke she grips tight to finger so tight I was starting to feel some pain.

“ God Jesus saint Janet. Stop your hurting me” I shouted. Everyone stops and looks at us. She slowly let go of my finger when she saw the pain in my eyes. She grabs a bottle and ran out. I called and ran after her like the good little kitten I was.

“ JANET WAIT WAIT UP” I shouted running after her.

“ Sorry okay. I did not mean to hurt you. Issac” Janet said looking down at the ground. I shook my head and came up to her and lifted her chin up so she can look at me. At first look, her eyes look like how Mr. Fuzzy Bear’s eyes looked. Glazed over. 

“Hey no. I am worried about you. Is everything okay? Did you and Popi get into a fight?” I tried to say but halfway my voice started to crack. We had this way and something was telling me something was wrong. “ Janet. I am worried about you and what this magnesium. Janet, maybe we should ta-” I was cut off by Janet.

“ Look I was a 90s bitch to you. And I screwed up. I hated that I said those things. The week you were gone and we did not talk suck. But I and Popi are fine and if I don’t go now I won’t be able to take some Trippe before classes. And it is no big deal it is just a short cut. I call you later” Janet said then ran off. Something was not right and I knew no one but me was going to be able to figure it out.

[diner-drama]

Cuddle Buddies (1/?)

"Cuddle Buddies: professional platonic cuddling therapy services for the busy modern professional" are an entirely legitimate organization serving the touch-starved. Look, it's just been a long time since Steve's been in a relationship, and a guy has needs, you know? Sometimes after a long day of being a strong, hard-nosed solicitor, weathering insults and attacks from the opposing counsel and your own coworkers, you just want to have someone stroke your hair and tell you you're good. Bucky loves his job as a professional cuddler, providing non-romantic physical touch to people that need it, and when his new client turns out to be a pint-sized spitfire with a smile to die for, that's just a bonus.

Also on ao3.

"Rumlow, if I wake up tomorrow to find out that you've thrown my client on an airplane and deported her in the middle of the night I will have your ass in front of the bar association before you can blink," barked Steve into the phone held between his ear and shoulder, trying to get his keys out of his pocket one-handed. "You really think they're going to let this slide after last time?"

He paused for a second as the person on the other end of the line made a few abortive attempts at a response, then cut him off. "I'm turning off my phone now. If you still want to talk in the morning after considering my offer you can call me then, but if you pull any of your bullshit in the meantime, I will fucking ruin you."

Steve hung up the call with a flourish and shouldered his front door open, throwing his phone into a basket on an occasional table before closing the door behind him and leaning against it, rubbing his eyes exhaustedly. Being a hard-ass human rights lawyer was all very well and good during the work day, but by the time he got home Steve was more than ready to shed his tough persona and let himself be soft.

The suit jacket was the first to go, shrugged off his slim shoulders and slipped onto a hanger. Then, his smart, shiny shoes were slipped off and replaced with warm, thick socks. He swapped his starched shirt for an old, lived-in hoodie, and his neatly pressed slacks for sweatpants. His black briefcase found a home in the spare room he used as an office, and he shut the door after it, mentally shutting away his work life. He ran his hand through his smartly-combed hair to muss it up and rolled his shoulders back, taking a few deep breaths and letting the stress of his day roll off him.

He wandered around the living room, picking up a blanket from the steamer trunk by the window, drawing the curtains, and switching on the electric fireplace which filled the space with warmth and low, flickering light. He picked up his personal phone from the coffee table and sent a quick text to Sam to let him know he made it home safely, sent a thumbs up to Darcy in response to a terrible meme she'd sent him, and briefly considered video calling Peggy before remembering that she was in a conference in Singapore.

He flopped down onto the couch and wrapped himself up tight in the blanket, enjoying its weight on his shoulders. Opening his laptop, he coughed in embarrassment when the tab that he'd opened in a fit of loneliness last night popped up. "Cuddle Buddies: professional platonic cuddling therapy services for the busy modern professional" seemed to be an entirely legitimate organization serving the touch-starved, and they had excellent reviews.

Look, it's just been a long time since Steve's been in a relationship, and a guy has needs, you know? Sometimes after a long day of being a strong, hard-nosed solicitor, weathering insults and attacks from the opposing counsel and your own coworkers, you just want to have someone stroke your hair and tell you you're good. Steve did his best to keep his work and home lives separate, but lately it was getting difficult to switch off from his worries when he was lying in bed at night, going over details from his cases while he tossed and turned on his pillows.

He scrolled through the information on the website one more time, thinking about how it might feel to invite a stranger into his home to cuddle him. Would it be uncomfortable? Would they think he was pathetic?

Putting aside the laptop for a minute, he ambled back into the kitchen to re-heat some shepherd's pie and put on the kettle for a cup of tea, climbing on a step stool to reach the mugs. His fingers and toes still a little chilly from the crisp autumn evening outside, he decided to fill up a hot water bottle, tucking it carefully into its fluffy case and holding it under his arm as he brought his dinner and drink back to the table. After a couple of bites of the pie, he pulled out a neat little wicker basket from under the table and took out his evening medications. Tapping the pills into his hand, he swallowed them with a gulp of tea and took a couple of huffs of his steroid inhaler for good measure, before getting back to his meal.

Steve may have lost the genetic lottery when it came to his height and his abysmal health, but the gods had seen fit to bless him with more than his share of sheer, bloody-minded scrappiness, which he felt more than made up for it.

Once he'd cleared the plate away and made himself a second cuppa, he opened up a book on his e-reader and held the comforting, warm weight of the hot water bottle to his chest, wondering idly, not for the first time, whether he should get a cat. He was a couple of chapters into a mediocre romance novel when he started tapping his fingers, thinking.

After a brief moment of indecision, he grabbed the laptop with renewed certainty and began to type a request into the website.

Bucky was just waving goodbye to Nat as he walked away from their session when his phone chimed, alerting him that there was a new customer inquiry that the agency wanted him to look at.

Maria: 28 yo man in Red Hook interested in trying cuddle therapy to help with work stress. Would prefer male therapist. Due to asthma, no cologne or scented products, and non-smokers only.

He smiled, and shot off a quick affirmative response. Maria often sent him their new clients - there was something about him that reassured people if they felt a little unsure about the services. Bucky was perfectly happy with his chosen profession - non-romantic physical touch was, in his opinion, essential for a happy life, and he got to provide it to people that needed it. Bucky liked to observe people and through his job he'd met a wide array of curious characters, so the work was never boring.

Also, the pay was amazing and Alpine would only eat the expensive cat food, so there was that.

He continued on his journey, enjoying the changing leaves on the trees around him and the chill in the air. Just as he was about to step onto the subway, his phone buzzed again, and after he found a seat he saw that Maria had sent him the phone number for his new client. He sent off his standard greeting straight away, eager to get his schedule firmed up.

Bucky: Hi Steve, this is Bucky from the Cuddle Buddies agency. When works for you for our first meeting? Looking forward to working with you!

Steve: Thanks for getting back to me. Saturday evening would be best for my schedule. Can I pay the $80 fee via bank transfer? -Steven Grant Rogers, Shield Solicitors

The response came immediately, and was far more businesslike than his usual interactions with clients. Still, Bucky could be businesslike. He even owned a tie.

Bucky: You sure can - the agency should send you out a contract tonight with the bank details. I can do Saturday at 7 if that suits.

Steve: Saturday at 7 sounds fine. What are the terms of the contract?

Of course, Mr. Lawyer Man wanted to know about the contract.

Bucky: It lays out what to expect in our interactions - we provide purely non-sexual services - as well as how to deal with cancellations, how we protect your privacy, and the billing structure.

Steve: Thank you. I look forward to meeting you on Saturday.

Bucky shook his head, wondering how this stuffy, formal guy was going to act during their cuddle session.

Steve didn't have the opportunity to start feeling anxious about his cuddle appointment because the negotiations with the lawyers at the ICE detention center took up every moment of his time. He was wrapping up his conversation with a client via email in his home office when his alarm chimed to let him know that he had half an hour until Bucky arrived.

After stretching his arms over his head, wincing at the tightness of his shoulders after slouching all day, he stripped out of the pajamas he was still wearing and indulged in a long, hot shower, scrubbing away his stress and emerging pink-cheeked and fluffy-haired. In his bedroom, he changed into a soft blue flannel shirt and a pair of pants that looked like slacks but felt like sweatpants, and another pair of his warm, fuzzy socks.

Pacing around his living room, his nerves ramping up, he selected a different blanket to leave ready on the couch and checked twice on his selection of teas. He had just put the kettle on to boil when the buzzer sounded.

On opening the door, he was immediately reassured to see that Bucky had a friendly, engaging grin, and was wearing a soft, knitted sweater. He held out a hand to shake and then immediately felt like an idiot, but Bucky just grasped Steve's cold hand with his warm one and squeezed it.

"Hi, you must be Steve," said Bucky with a pleasant Brooklyn drawl. Without being asked, he pulled a Cuddle Buddies ID card out of his pocket and handed it over to Steve, who checked the details on it and handed it back.

"Nice to meet you," said Steve stiffly. "Please, come on in. I'm just making a cup of mint tea, do you want one?"

"That'd be perfect, Steve. Mind if I take my shoes off?"

"Go ahead," replied Steve with a thin smile, attending to the whistling kettle.

"Thanks," said Bucky when he accepted his cup of tea. Steve couldn't help but notice that Bucky was wearing mis-matched but co-ordinating socks, one with red stars on a white background, and the other with white stars on a red background. He ushered Bucky to take a seat on the couch and sat in the armchair opposite. Bucky's posture was loose and open, but Steve was sitting bolt upright and jiggling his leg nervously. Fortunately, Bucky chose to take the lead in the conversation.

"So, I usually start first sessions with clients by talking about what your goals are for therapy," he began with a reassuring smile. "For example, some clients are looking to feel more comfortable with physical touch, some want to get over a breakup, or reduce stress, and some are just looking for companionship."

"I guess the companionship and stress things," said Steve after thinking for a moment. "My job takes a lot out of me, so I don't really have the time to pursue a relationship, but I do miss that human touch."

Bucky smiled gently, as though what Steve had said wasn't anything out of the ordinary. "What do you do?"

"I'm a lawyer, I mostly represent people who are in danger of deportation," said Steve automatically.

"That sounds rewarding," replied Bucky encouragingly.

"It is," agreed Steve, "but it's incredibly draining. I have to be so hard and tough all the time. Sometimes I think it would be nice to just be..." He tailed off, unsure how to finish his sentence.

"Soft?" supplied Bucky.

Steve smiled, feeling more comfortable despite his misgivings. "Yeah."

"Thank you for being so open with me, Steve," said Bucky, reaching over to squeeze Steve's knee. "If you don't have a particular preference for how we start, how about you join me on the couch and I put my arms around you. Does that sound good?"

Suddenly shy, Steve nodded and moved to sit next to Bucky, who immediately wrapped his big arms around Steve's shoulders and pulled Steve into his broad chest. As requested, Bucky wasn't wearing any fragrance, but he still smelled good, like fresh laundry and crisp autumn air, with an undercurrent of clean skin.

As he relaxed into Bucky's embrace, Steve tried to remember the last time he'd been held so gently. He was a regular recipient of Sam's big bear hugs and Darcy's chest-crushing squeezes, but he hadn't had a long-term romantic partner since law school, and his career didn't leave him a lot of free time to look for one.

"How does that feel?" asked Bucky in a low, soothing voice, gently rubbing at Steve's shoulder.

"Really good," breathed Steve.

"I'm glad," said Bucky gently. "How about I lie down on my back here and you snuggle up to my chest?"

Steve nodded his assent and Bucky released him slowly, and then rolled over to lie along the couch, opening up his arms so that Steve could slot himself in to rest his head on Bucky's warm chest. The knit of his sweater was soft against Steve's face, and one of Bucky's big hands came up to cup the back of Steve's head, rubbing small circles at the base of his skull with his fingertips.

"Thanks for not wearing cologne," said Steve, sounding muffled.

"Pal, I think you sneezing in my face would be worse for me than for you," laughed Bucky, the sound rumbling through his chest.

"It's not my sexiest move," agreed Steve, burrowing deeper into the soft warmth of Bucky's body.

Steve hadn't expected that conversation would carry on easily while they were cuddling - he predicted awkward silences and a feeling of general embarrassment - but they continued chatting while Bucky carded his fingers through Steve's hair, and he felt himself dropping deeper and deeper into a calm state of relaxation.

"So why'd you become a lawyer?" asked Bucky in a low voice, barely breaking into the spell he was casting over Steve.

"Ma came over here from Ireland to work as a nurse," replied Steve drowsily, "and when my pa died, she ran into some trouble with some of her immigration paperwork. There was a lawyer who worked pro bono to stop her from getting deported... the guy really changed our lives."

"So now you help other people the same way."

"I try to. How'd you get into professional cuddling?"

"After I got out of the army, I used to go for counseling sessions at the VA. Took a couple of years, but eventually I started on a course to be a counselor myself. A lot of those guys are so touch-starved, you know? My friend got the idea to start up a cuddling service and I jumped at the chance. It's been my full-time job for three years now."

Digesting this information, Steve was silent for a moment. He wouldn't have pegged Bucky as a soldier given how open and relaxed he was, but Sam didn't seem like an air force pilot, so you never knew. He cast around for a follow-up question. "Are there a lot of cuddling agencies in the world?" he settled on eventually.

"Oh yeah, it's a real growth industry. There's even a book called the Cuddle Sutra."

Steve scoffed. "You're kidding me, people write books about this stuff?"

Bucky cuffed him gently on the back of the head. "Shut up, punk. That's my profession you're besmirching."

"Are you allowed to tell your clients to shut up?" smirked Steve, never happier than when he was being a little shit.

"Only if they're being a punk," grumbled Bucky, wrapping an arm around the back of Steve's shoulders to pull him closer.

Over the course of the next forty five minutes, Steve learned more about Bucky's family, his asshole cat, his collection of semi-dead succulent plants, and his opinions on the present administration of the country. Bucky managed to wheedle Steve into talking about the bullying he faced at work, the stress of not having as many resources as he needed to help everyone he worked with - and he very nearly managed to get him to disclose his mother's recipe for shepherd's pie, and was only stopped by the threat that the ghost of Sarah Rogers would haunt him until he died.

Between the cozy warmth of Bucky's body, the soothing cadence of his voice, and the way his minty breath ghosted over Steve's forehead when he chuckled, Steve was pretty much in heaven, wrapped up in comfort. When Bucky's phone started to vibrate in his pocket, they both let out a little noise of annoyance.

"'Fraid that's my alarm. How'd you enjoy your first session?" asked Bucky, still stroking lines down Steve's back.

Steve hummed contentedly. "Worth every penny," he replied, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head.

"I'm really glad," said Bucky sincerely, squeezing his shoulder before standing up and heading towards his shoes. "Same time next week?"

"That'd be perfect. Thanks, Bucky. For everything."

"No problem," he replied with a genuine grin, fishing his phone out of his pocket. "Now I'd better call Maria before she gets the cops after me to make sure I haven't been murdered in a back alley somewhere."

"I'm glad they care so much about your safety."

"I love my job," laughed Bucky as he let himself out the front door, waving goodbye to Steve as he put the phone to his ear.

Steve spent some time smiling and waving like a goof until Bucky rounded the corner, at which point he finally shook himself awake and shut and locked his door. It was only eight PM but after a few nights of fractured sleep he was ready to follow his relaxed, sleepy feeling straight to bed.

After he pottered around the room, straightening up and putting things away, he brushed his teeth and jumped onto his big, comfortable bed, where he rolled himself up in his comforter like a burrito. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

[juleswolverton-hyde]

The Words upon the Window Pane | Chanyeol

Genre: Smut, Angst (only a wee bit), PwP

Pairing: Auhor!Chanyeol x Reader

Warnings: Top!/Dom!Chanyeol, fingering, unprotected wall sex (ALWAYS do it safely, lads and lasses!), subtle dom/sub themes, swearing/cussing, dirty talk, love bites  

Summary: The relation between Logic and Passion is often difficult for artists and certainly so when the involved parties dabble in words. Because language has the power to conceal the truth, to say what otherwise might not be said.

The words upon the window pane.

However, one night, a mouth is brave enough to at last utter them.

And to bring about unexpected consequences.

Author’s Note: The title is derived from the play of the same name by W.B. Yeats, who is, as you may or may not know, one of my favourite poets and greatest inspirations as of late. Furthermore, this is the first EXO smut piece to be written by this wee birdy, which hopefully shall not disappoint more experienced EXO-Ls.

All in all, I hope you enjoy the work of a feather.

Making a living as an author is not easy, especially when starting out and having only a single book to one’s name. However, Voice is not merely a literary tool to use in order to be heard, since it can also realistically become audible when speaking. All in all, it remains a fluent phenomenon and so it is of great benefit to storytellers to have mastery over it. To provide experiences that ignite vivid imagery thanks to simply creating an ambience with sound when not craftily doing the same on the page. Such is the talent of the author rapidly grown popular online due to a deep voice and funny personality, thousands of women drooling over the tailored experiences provided to them on multiple platforms.

But none of them has ever gotten the real deal, their sensual emotions remaining one-sided whereas those of a newbie novelist are answered.

Sometimes.

The relationship started after the romance department of the same publishing house contracting the famous erotic writer took a bold chance by offering a contract to an unknown name having just completed a manuscript about an innocent coffee shop romance. During the meeting with the assigned editor, icy pale locks wandered into the modern cafeteria and toward the table where a conversation about the next steps towards actual publishing took place, sitting down wordlessly and merely observing. Withal, basalt irises blatantly ignored rapidly flushing rosy cheeks on the adjacent seat, focused intently on the ones across the table that tried to maintain a steady composure.

Yet it crumbled bit by bit as genuine interest was shown during a spontaneous proposal to drink coffee together sometime after the editor held a brief round of introductions at the end of the important chat, which had gained an unintentional third participant. Piece by stiff piece got chipped away over warm beverages thereafter, talking about upcoming manuscripts and the professional giving a newbie a couple of tips to not stumble and, perhaps, fall without hopes of getting up.

And were entirely smoothed out among the sheets after the daring kiss when goodbye came on the first proper dinner date, Chanyeol leaning in without hesitance to rapidly turn a chaste caress of the cheek into sin once having been escorted safely to the front door of one’s own roof.

To make a heart fall for one which is unbound, according to the rumours spoken by the female tongues which all supposedly possess a sensual experience of sorts concerning the novelist. Notwithstanding, one can talk but not say anything, let alone the truth. Withal, the gossip has expanded while being in a strange type of relationship, always being the first to propose something to do and bleached smooth strands simply agreeing if the busy schedule allows it, of course. Spontaneous proposals for a movie night or trying out a new café are one-sided, the first time drinking coffee together being the sole occasion on which it came from the distant beloved. However, during the opportunities to be together, it never fails to feel genuine.

Sincere in spite of the mouths believing it is merely about sex, warning to get out now before it is too late.

The logical ship has left the safe haven. 

It is too late.

Regardless of bravely sailing in an individual sea, the doubt can never be kept at bay since it lurks as a kraken in the darker waters coming up on the journey every now and again. After all, the fans of the deep voice catering supposedly “exclusive” experiences for them would loathe the fact their imaginary lover actually has a girlfriend. Moreover, the serpents roaming the office keep telling tales that steadily grow arms and legs, each limb stemming from the period in which minds were apart.

Those spans of time increase in frequency.

Lunch grows lonelier.

Days are spent in isolation.

Reassuring words do not hold significance on the floor of the publishing house nor on those of one of our apartments on a lucky night.

No acknowledgement.

All there is, is vagueness.

Just something. 

Something.

Undefinable.

Certainly not pretty or comforting.

Empty. Yes, that is the best way to describe it.

Hollow, lonely, one-sided.

Unrequited.

And it takes away the hunger at the dinner table beneath the luxurious roof, the expensive wine and home-cooked meal using high-quality ingredients holding as much inherent value as a shilling in the gutter. So the fork is put down, the bite laboriously swallowed and focus averted from the porcelain plate presenting little yet seeming too stacked.

‘Baby, are you alright?’ Head cocked to the side in wonder, Chanyeol stops mid-bite, sensing something is off.

Something.

Always something is off. 

Right now, it finds a voice in a lowly muttered remark as disappointed fingers shove the still full plate and cutlery away as far as possible. The stomach can live with the stone in it, like the heart slowly freezing itself thanks to the vicious tales of betrayal can continue to exist in ice. After all, even this week’s audio consisting of ‘’sexy’’ unboxing ramblings and testing out toys sent by mistresses somewhere else is but a mere drop in the overflowing bucket. ‘I’m not hungry.’

The limit has been reached.

End of the line.

Of this.

Us.

If there even ever has been a happy chronicling couple.

‘You’ve barely eaten.’ The unsuspecting fork picks up a perfectly grilled asparagus, endeavouring the feed a soul starved of happiness. A perfectly useless attempt at making things right for the culprit knows very well what goes on behind the scenes that are enacted every time at the workplace, the little faked though credible moments of two youngsters being solely friends but perhaps a bit more. No one knows for sure, but they do assume. Gossip has a way of being heard, even when feigning to ignore it in favour of personal fantasies. ‘At least have a few more vegetables.’

‘Did it...’ A wry smile carves itself on a face which is on the edge of tears, remembering every word said at the collective coffee machine in the cafeteria alongside the lovesick comments on every digital upload and equally sensual reaction to a novel novel. How can the detailed storyteller not notice the burning water droplets searing their way to the lash line? 

Begging. 

Begging to fall.

To be noticed.

Because they have had to hide so bloody long in loneliness.

Denied.

A significant detail.

‘Did it mean anything?’ God forbid that the words spilt between the sheets, on dates and in secrecy in the coffee corner did not hold any meaning. Withal, knowing how writers are for the craft is part of one’s own personality, there are no better tricksters. Words can be made pretty, cunningly serving to conceal the ugly truth. 

‘What? Did what mean anything? Babe, what are you on about?’ The uncomprehending gravely worried furrowed brows relax, raven irises softening as they discover the tale of the Ice Queen’s heart and damnably igniting the thawing process. Looks can kill, as is the word on the street, and the big pale wolf knows it judging by the gentle smile only reserved for his foolish mistress. ‘You’ve been listening to gossip again. Look, I’ll say it again and I still mean it. I love you, Y/N. Only you. You ought to know that by now.’

The supposedly well-meaning palm resting between the abandoned dishes is not lovingly covered, digits remaining apart instead of entwining in blissful union. Instead, the chair is pushed back as the napkin that formerly rested on the lap is viciously thrown onto the table surface. Voice is barely controlled, dangerously close to cracking yet forced to maintain steady fury. ‘Don’t fucking lie to me! I know this means nothing.’

‘Means nothing? This means nothing?’ The actions are fiercely mimicked, the pleading tone in speech overruling the fabricated calm demeanour. ‘It does, babe. It really does.’

‘Yeah, right. As if you haven’t said that to one of those horny dolls who gladly listen to their fantasy boyfriend or read about all the wonderful things you’d do to them. What did you call them again? Your honeys?’ There is no stopping the jeering guided by the incomparable ache rendering every nerve paralyzed, an alternative ego who feels betrayed rising with every second of the outburst. 

In the end, she, too, is one of many.

I am nothing. 

‘Babe, please-’ Agonizingly following footsteps attempt to reason, begging to stay for a proper vis-á-vis to resolve this “problem” while making their way to the hallway. 

Evidently without success. ‘Oh, piss off. I’m sure you had others in the time I was gone.’ The searing tears on lashes in the wee hall finally stream down the cheeks, lost in bittersweet memories of a time ruled by naivety. When every touch was so certain of love, felt protective and was believed to be sincere. 

Notwithstanding, that was then. 

This is now. 

‘It really meant something to me, you know? I fucking gave myself to you because I stupidly trusted you, Chan! You were my first.’ A shake of the head brings about enough steadiness to remain coherent in speech, to at least keep a total breakdown at bay a little longer. The battle is almost won, a little bit more perseverance needs to be put in before all might become actually well. ‘But I could’ve, no, should’ve known better. So fuck off and leave me alone.’

Just as a hand reaches towards the knob of the front door, a firm palm wraps painfully around the left wrist. Once that power was loved, but now it is just that: hurt. 

And it wants… needs to be left behind.

To make it pay for the solitude.

The agony needs to face the consequences.

‘No.’

The pain in the shape of the man who was believed to make up the world.

Stupid.

We both only have our stories to speak honestly in because they are the sole place where it is possible to be true. 

Funny how a broken heart ignites a sense of creativity to exploit and there is a sudden haste to make use of it. Or so the mind wants this to be the reason behind the futile struggle for freedom for the real reason is the simple need to get away before breaking the character of the hard-headed sneering Ice Queen and leave oneself in fragments on the battlefield. ‘Let. Me. Go.’

A vicious tug makes feet stumble away from the entryway and slam into the wall opposite the stairs, Chanyeol’s face mere inches away and obsidian irises burning with sorrowful rage that has grown from incomprehension. All acting halts at once, alarmed breath coming out ragged as the powerful gentleman is sought frantically on a quietly raging beautiful expression. ‘I won’t. Not until you finally listen to me and know who you belong to, young lady.’ 

Slender digits clad in a chic ink-black jacket roughly push aside underwear, unapologetically disappearing beneath the skirt to exert sexual dominance as lips powerfully nullify all chances at protest. ‘This is mine. Only mine. All I can think about these days, so much so I can’t even write without giving you a role in my novel.’

The possessive growling fuels the heat below, slowly reducing the hurtful stretch, as all vocabulary is lost in the marks left behind on the throat by stark white teeth. Miraculously, the ability to resist the temptation remains although it falters and starts to stutter in the strong secure warmth of a familiar palm at the end of the spine. ‘I- I don’t be- believe you.’

‘Who do you think is more credible?’ A rough mind-boggling thrust goes paired with the branding being interrupted to snarl against a slightly open mouth, dominant despite oddly affectionately resting foreheads against one another and chuckling as haphazard fluttery palms rest on broad shoulders. ‘The man who loves you or some women you don’t even know?’

In spite of being barely able to respond, a piece of hateful Logic remains and is capable of jeering and mocking the question that should have served to set things right. ‘But y- you could’ve fucked.’

‘I didn’t. Listen to me, young lady.’ The hand that formerly rested on the small of the lower back rises to envelop the throat, forcing a lock of gazes while enchantingly cutting off access to air. ‘Ever since we met, I’ve been yours. I’d never give anyone else a role in my novels because nobody inspires me like you do.’

‘D- Don’t stop.’ There is too much deliria to persist in protesting, each movement beneath fabric erasing the thought of resisting the platinum wolf as soon as it arises. Instead, it gives rise to memories of beautiful naive nights that make up the horror and delight of an insane mistress of letters, both inside the pages and outside.

Throwing the heart back into bittersweet love. 

‘Ah, there she is. There’s the helpless little slut I know.’ With an ashamedly wet noise, slim fingers undo the bodily connection that had been greedily gone along with, leading to an inevitable displeased whine that evokes a lovely dark chuckle.

A nudge of the nose asks to follow the focus of the seemingly only sane mind, see what the writer wants to be noticed without resorting to loathsome spoon-feeding. It is all in the details, that is where the heart of the tale lies. ‘See that?’ 

Lashes flutter innocently as gaze wanders lower and lower to restricting dusk-shaded denim, wordlessly remarking on the considerable outlined shape that the idiotic heart and persona meant to have walked out the door greatly want to exploit. ‘Only you do that to me, Y/N.’ An almost sweet peck on the forehead turns attention upward briefly before receiving another on the lips, after which a command makes hands act in too enthusiastic desirable greed. ‘Undo the zipper.’

It takes little time nor effort to force down sturdy and elastic fabric to bare burning desire to the chill air in the hallway. And it takes even less than that very same moment to be pinned against the wall once again, thighs supported by iron hands promising to never let go, and directly connect in body and soul. 

Willingly.

Beautifully.

‘Fuck, every time is like the first. I remember our, grm, hrm, first night. How you begged me to go harder-’ the speed accelerates, snarls growing more and more savage with every advance as behaviour, too, becomes wonderfully harsher, ‘rough you up. All the while acting like an innocent doe, turning me on. Mewling, pinned to the bed, forced to take me. God, I love it when you’re like that. Helpless. Powerless. Submissive.’ 

Every word is accentuated by an animalistic thrust, a sweet kiss on the side of the neck contrasting with the teeth leaving behind plum marks of possession at equal intervals. A low rumble of delight at platinum locks being pulled on vibrates in the buff chest lovingly keeping the spine against the wall, rejoicing in the flowing waterfall of mere meek noises. 

Exactly as we were during the first night.

Loving now as we had before. 

Honestly. 

Snarling sweet nothings against skin while erasing every thought in the chase for the satisfaction of primal desire. When tears of analyzed sadness turned into those of unadulterated pleasure. ‘Crying as you take my cock deep inside that dripping little pussy.’

‘Cha- Chanyeol-’ There are no words to break through the haze of bittersweet nostalgia, leaving the sentence unfinished. It does not matter for all focus is turned towards reaching temporary enlightenment as fast as possible in the most savage manner. 

‘Cum on that cock, baby. Cream that fucking cock.’

Any sense of resistance that somehow managed to linger, loathing Logic deeming the act wrong in every aspect and begging for liberation, is erased in an instant as the command is pressed onto firm lips. 

It is wonderful. 

Incredibly gorgeous.

Having Chanyeol wrap his storytelling palm around the throat once more as the other presses bodies together until there cannot possibly be any distance left. Wolfish grunts fall from cushiony lips, chanting maddening “mine, mine, mine”s, while sprinting during the final bit of the primitive race, soon reaching the white light found between shivering thighs. 

Who are crying silently in a paradoxical mixture that cannot be kept alive consisting of sensual delight, heartbroken self-hatred and rage directed towards loved pale locks. 

Tears to, fortunately, be noticed once reason returns enough to no longer be under the influence of the desirable beast beneath the skin. Henceforth, it is the incredible author who affectionately wipes away the droplets running over the cheeks as onyx irises soften in comprehension of pain. ‘Hey, don’t cry, Y/N. Remember what I promised you?’ 

A head shake shows ignorance because there have been a great number of promises until now, which is acknowledged by the low chuckle that never fails to allow the usual guard to be let down and now disrupts the quiet panting betraying a sliver of glad exhaustion. The simple sound never fails to make the chest puff a little in pride and veins to bask in a loving warmth, even after being frozen in place without hopes of crumbling thanks to the vivid rumours floating around the office. ‘I know I have promised you a lot, but one thing is that I’d never make you cry because I’d never dare to break your heart. I genuinely love you, seriously am head over heels for you. Can you believe me when I say that?’

It is hard to respond negatively when bodies are still one and foolishly trusted palms envelop the cheeks, resulting in wavering speech on the verge of cracking. Withal, a little bit of strength is gathered from the tight grip on defined biceps engraved with ink. ‘I wa- want to, but... the gossip...’

‘Listen.’ A long tender kiss muffles the sobs aching to be released alongside the gasp at the sudden hollow feeling when the physical spell is lifted. Another one asks for focus on talking things over instead of paying attention on the faint sound of liquid dripping onto the hallway tiles. ‘You crying makes me want to cry because it hurts me to see you like this. It really does, babe. And people will always talk, but, perhaps, it might help if we go public? I have an interview soon.’

‘People will think I’m only dating you for your money.’ No matter if a statement will be made, the way of thought lies outside the influence of words. Authors know this first and foremost for each sentence that is penned down fails to fully convey what might be going on in vivid imagination and thus fails to be entirely understood. 

A bittersweet smile tugs on the corners of the mouth as messy snow white locks fall obscure the sight of lips drawn into a stern line speaking melancholically, mocking oneself. ‘I wouldn’t mind if you’d do.’

With more fierceness than expected, an answer to the rhetorical assumption bursts from a panicked mouth uncensored, clutching the soft fabric of clothes as if not doing so will induce an unbridgeable abyss. ‘But I don’t!’

‘I know that, Y/N. I know.’ Thumbs start to caress the sides of the face, somberly smoothing the anxious sorrow in self-reflection. ‘You know I hate losing, be it games or bets, but-  but I- I-‘ Breaths grow short as tears start to brim in the corner of beautiful almond-shaped eyes. Hands fall away from the cheeks to wrap around the middle, the waist caught in a sturdy grip. Foreheads rest against each other and the arms of a claimed mistress wrap around the neck, fingertips playing with the pale strands at the back. ‘I would scorn myself if I’d lose you.’

‘You’ll lose readers if we go public.’ After all, not everyone enjoys a real life romance and certainly not those imagining one individual as their partner while he is, in truth, already faithfully bonded to another woman. 

‘Doesn’t matter, I don’t care. If they’re true fans, they’ll be happy for us.’ Chanyeol’s voice has renovated its ocean deep steadiness, tiny lights appearing out of nowhere to illuminate a sudden bright cheery idea in a nightly gaze creating a bit of distance. ‘You know what? I’ll buy you a ring and a matching one for myself so everyone can see you’re mine.’ A palm shows itself from behind the small of the back to grab the left wrist and trace over the second-to-last digit. ‘To wear on this finger.’

‘You’d do that?’

‘Yes.’ The breathless chuckle is strangely melancholic yet delighted, the curious combination taking over demeanour entirely. ‘Yes, of course. Anything to keep you with me.’ The mere embrace suddenly turns into an inescapable hug, broad shoulders blocking out the world that wants to be temporarily forgotten. ‘I want you with me, only you. Please, stay with me. Here.’ The nose often kissed in the morning or cheekily out of sight of the publishing house staff nuzzles the side of the neck, whispering against the warm skin. ‘I want you to move in.’

‘Is that a wish or a command? I’m my own person, you know?’ The weak attempt at humour is seemingly appreciated, Chan tangibly chuckling before sighing in relief when being kissed on the top of the head. 

‘There she is, there’s my good clever girl.’ Foreheads come to rest against each other once more in the air scented by whatever remains of dinner, perspiration and our perfumes combined, creating a weird musky howbeit fruity undertone. The chin is lifted by a curled finger after calmly being put to rest against the wall instead of being fully at the mercy of the writer’s engraved arms. ‘But you know very well what I mean, young lady.’

‘I do,’ fingertips bashfully run over the side of the storyteller’s neck, leaving behind a growling trail of anticipating goosebumps before rising to comb through pale strands, ‘sir.’

‘Don’t.’ 

A peck. 

‘Tease.’ 

A kiss. 

‘Me like that.’ 

Lip caught between teeth. 

And freed once having clearly asserted dominance. ‘I’m yours.’ Although the inquiring peck on the cheek does not partake in the sensual teasing but is severe in character. ‘And you’re mine?’

Catching on to the need for credibility, the erotic novelist acknowledges it while sweetly yet sincerely murmuring. ‘Entirely yours. Not just in stories or audios, in real life as well. As long as possible, until we no longer breathe. This I promise.’

And thus this part of our tale ends, the fragment of the middle part leading to the end.

Of that which ink cannot fully capture on paper, in sounds or on skin.

Withal, it is not necessary because we have each other for inspiration and retellings.

Musing.

In love.

In medias res. 

[girl-with-cat-eyes]

The Father-In-Law From Hell

Summary: Virgil Spinoza has found the perfect man in Thomas Sanders and is so excited to marry him. But can he survive Roman, his new father-in-law?

A/N: Do I have 2 other chapter fics going? Yes. Should I focus on them? Probably. Did I watch Monster-In-Law and get ideas and write this in once sitting? Absolutely. So here we are. I have too many ideas for thvi rom coms. Tell me what you think and send me a message if you want to be added to the taglist. 

~

    Virgil Spinoza loved watching the sun rise. The world was quiet and he could sit and watch the world wake up and write. That was precisely what he was doing this morning. Writing and drinking his coffee. He loved quiet mornings. 

    “Girl, you would not BELIEVE the cutie I got with last night”, Well scratch that about it being quiet. 

    “Remy, what are you doing here? I need to get ready for work.”, Virgil sighed and turned towards his neighbor and best friend. 

    “Honey, I needed caffeine. I’m all out of coffee. And I got the all the gossip for you.”, the man in question hopped onto his bed, “You should have seen this guy, V. He was exactly your type. I would have set you up but you didn’t come.”

    “You know that clubs aren’t really my thing.”, Virgil began gathering his things as he rushed towards the door, “I need to get to the library.”

    Remy snatched his laptop just Virgil went to grab it, “Is this your new chapter? Let me see it!!”

    Virgil scrambled to grab the laptop away before the other man could read what he wrote, “No no no, you can’t read it yet. It’s not done yet.”

    “Fine, fine. But I want to read it as soon as it’s done.”, He nodded at Remy and began heading towards the door.

    “Ok, I’ve got to head to the library now. But you stay and read my diary.”

    “Can do will do.”, Virgil was halfway out the door when he heard Remy shout, “Hey could you help me and Patton tonight? A server called off”.

    “Sure thing. Just text me the address and the time.”, with that the young man left to start another day. 

~

    Working at a library was usually an easy job. Virgil had been volunteering there since high school. He continued to work there once his books became popular because he liked the regulars. They had known him for years now and tended to be sweet and kind. But just like any job where you work with the public, Virgil saw his fair share of assholes. 

    After being berated for 10 minutes by an old lady because the book she wanted was already checked out, Virgil felt ready to either scream or cry. Instead he did neither, choosing to take a quick break to calm his nerves before shelving returned books. He did his job almost automatically, working through the plot kinks of his latest novel. It was the third book in a series he was writing and he wanted to foreshadow the death of a character. 

    In hindsight it was because of this that Virgil didn’t notice that someone was behind him until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He jumped, turning around to see a man staring at him with a sheepish smile. The one thought that Virgil had was that he was gorgeous. He was only slightly taller than him, with dark brown eyes and a similar shade of hair. 

    “I’m sorry for interrupting you, but do you work here? I saw you shelving books and I’m a little lost.”

    He blinked and tried to gather his thoughts, “Um yeah I do. Sorry I just didn’t see you. What did you need to find?”

    “Well I was looking for where the Young Adult Fiction section is?”

    “Two shelves down and to the right. Near the computers.”

    “Thank you so much.”, the stranger started walking in that direction before turning, “I’m sorry for scaring you by the way.”

    “I-it’s ok. I wasn’t the one paying attention.”

    By the time Virgil was finished shelving books the man was gone. 

~ 

    The party was already in full swing when Virgil got there. He could hear the music and conversation flowing into the kitchen. He ran in and gave Patton and Remy a quick hug before putting on an apron. “I’m so sorry I’m late, I helped close at the library today. And then I almost couldn’t find this place.”

    Patton silenced him with a look, “It’s ok, thank you so much. Aria had to call off sick. She’s pregnant you know and the morning sickness is intense.”

    “So what do you need me to do first?”

    Remy handed him a tray, “We need you to pass out these crostinis.”, Virgil took the tray and began to head out when he saw him. The stranger from the library. He turned around in a panic. 

    “Oh god it’s him!”

    Both of his friends turned around, “Who?”

    Virgil indicated to the man standing out in the middle of the floor, “Him. He came into the library today.”

    Patton gave him a look, “That guy. That’s Thomas Sander’s: this is his welcome home party. He just came back from starring in a Broadway show in New York. Why? Did he do something-”

    “No it’s not that. He just.. really cute.”

    “Oh my god. You have a crush!”, Remy piped up, “It’s about damn time. You haven’t been laid in forever.”

    Virgil rolled his eyes and walked out. Passing out crostinis was easy; the most he had to do was answer questions about allergens, which he understood seeing as he was allergic to nuts. Eventually he made his way over to group Thomas was with, where one of his friends appeared to be recounting a story. 

    “So his castmate completely forget their lines, and Thomas here doesn’t miss a beat. He just improvs the entire scene from scratch.”

    “Joan stop, you’re embarrassing me.”, Virgil stood on the edge of the conversation, listening. He was going to ask if any of them wanted a crostini but he didn’t want to interrupt them. 

    A man with a goatee looked at him, “Is there something you need?”

    He startled and went to leave before the other person who had been speaking- Virgil thought their name was Joan- spoke up, “What are those?”

    “Oh, they’re crostinis. Would you like one.”

    The man with the goatee gave him a glare, “No, I think we’re ok.”

        Virgil went to walk away when Thomas walked after him, “Wait!”, He stopped and turned around, reaching to get one of the crostinis. Thomas stopped him and smiled, “So I know two things about you: you’re a librarian and you also work as a caterer.”

    “Oh no! I’m just a librarian. I’m actually helping my friends out tonight, they own the catering company.”

    “I see. So what’s your name?”

    “Um Virgil. And you are?”

    He smiled, “Thomas.”

    Virgil was beginning to relax, “So what book did you check out? From the library, I mean.”

    “The Ghost of Ordiel Pond. I’ve wanted to read it for a while but I haven’t had the time. I’m a huge fan of the author.”

     Virgil laughed at this. Of course the cute, funny guy he liked would be a fan of his books. Some higher power just really wanted to tease him, “You’re joking right? I wrote that book.”

Thomas blinked, “You’re Virgil Spinoza? I mean you’re named Virgil, I didn’t think about it.”

“Yep, if you look on the back cover you’ll see a picture of me. Tell me what you think when you bring the book back. I love hearing what people think of my books.”

“Or I could give you my number and tell you right after I read it. That way you don’t have to wait for feedback.”

    Virgil contemplated this for a minute before nodding, “Ok”, he took out his phone and gave it to the man in front of him, “Here, I’ll text you after I get off that way you have my number as well.”

    “Alright! Well I don’t want to stop you from working, so I’ll be out of your way. But I’ll let you know what I think of it.”, with that Thomas walked away, leaving a giddy Virgil in his wake. He continued to serve food, so excited for his break. He got Thomas’s number. Maybe once he read Virgil’s book he could ask him out. If his anxiety didn’t convince him to nope out. 

    He was shocked when the goateed man approached him, taking a crostini, “I like your pin”, he indicated to the pride pin on Virgil’s shirt, “It’s always nice to find another gay guy in public.”

    Virgil nodded, “Thanks, it really is nice.”

    He smiled, “Name’s Mike”, he shot out a hand. Virgil took it softly. Mike looked over to where Thomas was talking to his friend, “He’s cute, huh?”

    “I’m sorry. I wasn’t flirting with your boyfriend, he came into my library today and checked out a book I wrote. I was curious about what he thought-”

    “Oh no we aren’t boyfriends. Thomas is straight. I asked him out back in college and he told me he wasn’t into men.”

    “I see.”

    Virgil finished work with a glum look. He didn’t even bother to text Thomas once he got off. 

~

    Virgil was running the circulation desk when Thomas showed up. He had gotten home and went straight to bed, completely forgetting to text the man. He had been so excited to get his number and was crushed to find out he was straight. 

    “Hey there..”, Virgil looked up and saw the man in question standing in front of him, holding the copy of The Ghost of Ordiel Pond, “You’re returning it already?”, Oh god he probably hated it and couldn’t finish it because it was so bad.

    “Yeah I couldn’t put it down. It’s so captivating, you did a great job. I was going to call you but you never texted me. So I figured I’d tell you in person.”

    Virgil blushed, “I’m sorry. I was so tired I just fell asleep afterwards. I should have texted you though. I’m glad you liked the book though.”, he took the book and began to check it back in. 

    “It’s ok. I get it.”, He watched Virgil finish checking in the book, “So I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime?”

    “Like as a date?”

    “Yes, as a date. It’s ok if you don’t want to, I just thought I’d take my chance.”

    Virgil looked at him in shock, “Yes! Yes, I’d love to go out with you. I-I just thought that..”, he trailed off. 

    “Thought what?” 

    “Someone told me that you were straight.”

    Thomas looked almost offended at his words, “Who the hell told you that I was straight? The closest I’ve ever been to liking girls is for roles.”

    Virgil looked sheepish, “Um Mike did. He said he asked you out and you said no.”

    “Mike?! Mike is my ex! He cheated on me so I left him!”

    Virgil couldn’t believe it. The cute guy he liked felt the same! And he was asking him out! Virgil must have died and gone to heaven, “Well I’m sorry I listened to him.”

    “It’s ok. Just let me take you out to make up for it?”

    “I get off in 10 minutes. There’s a really good pizza place near here.”, Just then a phone rang. Thomas looked down, “Is that yours?”

    “Yeah it’s my dad. I’ll tell him that I was at the library and had my ringer off.”

    “You sure? I can wait.”

    “Believe if I pick up he’ll keep me on the phone forever. It’s better if I call him later. So, pizza?”

    “Pizza.”

~

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