#also it is amazing that first-time visitors to the apartment come back from the bathroom with topics of conversation

[shoku-and-awe]

Good morning and welcome to Day 2 of THE LATEST LITERACY WALLCHART FOR CHILDREN Advent Calendar! Brought to you by I am in line at the Immigration Office right now and it is damp and slow.

I love this comparison and I feel intrinsically that it is accurate, and yet, despite having spent the last 7 or so years looking at this wallchart every single day (it lives in my bathroom), I still have never seen a tomato that made me think, “Huh! A lantern.” I do hope that someday I will. If you or someone you love has ever encountered the red tomato that looks like a lantern, pictures please!

[garbinge]

Stuck Record

Steve Murphy x F!Reader From these August Prompts: A Stuck Record (Not from the original list I'm doing the challenge off of, but a previous August list from the same creator). A/N: No better birthday fic drop than a little Steve Murphy x reader sitch!!! The way @drabbles-mc has turned me into a total Steve Murphy fan girlie and I'm not even mad about it. I'm actually kicking my feet and giggling. Word Count: 1k Warnings: Alludes to sexual situations, cursing, fluff, but talking about angsty things, mentions of drinking.

Narcos Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini

It was late, you had just gotten out of the shower. Not being able to sleep left you with a clean house and all that was left was to wash yourself of the sweat and insomnia. Unfortunately, not only was the hot water not enough to lull you into sleepiness but being a visitor in Colombia offered you nothing else to do in the late hours of the night. 

You got situated in your robe, soothed lotion onto your skin and moved out of the bathroom humming. Out of instinct you always looked at the front door when you passed it, hoping to see the doorknob move insinuating that Steve was home. But nothing. Just the silent, empty apartment. 

The silence brought an idea to your head. To pass the time you moved over to the record player that was on the shelf that ran along the window, behind the couch. You kneeled on the couch and flipped through the records you had until you landed on the Cyndi Lauper album and set it up on the record player. It took a minute to catch and play but once it did, it brought a vibe of serenity into your apartment. And waiting for your DEA agent of a husband to come home, a moment of peace and serenity were rare to come by. Your humming moved to follow the beat of the song as you moved to the fridge and poured a cold glass of wine. Bringing it back to the living room, instead of sitting down you moved to the music slowly, closing your eyes and paying attention to every instrument, every note, every lyric. Your mind got so caught up in the music, you didn’t realize you had drank nearly all of your wine, you didn’t need to fill it up because along with not paying attention to your glass, you missed the sound of the doorknob turning and the front door closing. 

Steve’s presence around you startled you slightly, causing you to jump and let out a gasp but instantly you melted into his grip and scent. You had never been happier to smell cigarettes and cheap knock-off cologne. 

“You’re running on empty.” Steve whispered into your ear as he hugged you from behind. 

“Been trying to pass the time.” You hummed back to him and began swaying back and forth. 

“Your husband leaves you waiting till the late hours of the night for him?” Steve’s voice was littered with humor as he talked about himself. 

“He’s busy with work.” You teased him back. 

“Too busy to come home to this?” His hands moved down your robe, feeling along your body slowly and sensually. 

“His loss.” You raised your brows and turned around to face him. “Your gain.” 

Steve looked exhausted, his eyes were heavy, his shoulders were dragging, now hearing the raspiness in his voice was clearly a sign of lack of sleep over romance. Your free hand moved up to his face out of concern. “You look worn out.” 

“You look amazing.” Steve’s eyes traveled down to look at you in the robe that was loosening up around you. 

“You should go to bed.” Your thumb caressed his cheek. 

“We should.” He leaned into your touch. “But first, let’s just, enjoy this.” He grabbed your glass and placed it on the coffee table and took your hand in his so it wasn’t left empty for a second. He moved you around, it wasn’t extravagant dancing, but it was sweet. You could feel how tired Steve was but you could also feel how much he missed this. How much he needed this. You grabbed him tighter and rested your head against his chest.

“I miss you.” You never said that to him anymore. Not because you didn’t mean it–hell, you thought it everyday, but because you didn’t want those words weighing on him. He had enough happening all around him and you didn’t want home life to drag him down more. But, you said it now because you felt like he needed to hear it and you were right. 

“You have no idea how much I miss you and miss hearing you say that.” Steve’s voice was desperate, like tears were going to fall from his eyes or he was going to scream from the build up of stress. But before he could do either, the song on the record changed and Time after Time began which caused him to let out a choked laugh as the tears sat in his eyes still. 

“What’s funny?” You smiled, pulling out from his chest to look at him. 

“This song. I hear it all day long on the radio.” Steve was smiling still and it brought a warm feeling to your heart. 

“Cyndi Lauper is on the radio in your car and at work?” You were confused since you were in a foreign country. 

 “They put the American station on because they think I’ll feel more at home, it’s them being assholes and in turn I end up listening to Time after Time all day.” 

You stared into his heavy drooping eyes, seeing the pain of his day, the last few weeks all there but the corners of his eyes being wrinkled in a smile made it all go away. 

“Well now everytime you hear it, you can think of me.” You matched his smile with your own and stood up on your tip toes to quietly speak in his ear. “In this robe.” 

The growl he let out was low and needy as he gripped you, the moment his grip got tighter, the record began to stick, repeating the song’s name over and over again until it snapped into no sound but the crackles and pop of a stuck record, causing both of you to fall over each other in a fit of laughter. 

“Even the record player can’t listen to it anymore.” 

“I was getting bored, anyway.” You teased him. “I think I could go for some real action.” 

You didn’t have to say it twice, before you knew it Steve was practically lifting you off the ground, guiding you to your shared bedroom where neither of you was going to catch up on sleep anytime soon and the record player would static and crackle until the early morning hours. 

[softjakehoon]

Remember Me pt. 2

Pairing: y/n and jay

includes: fluff? angst if you think hard enough lol, suggestive behaviour, friends with benefits with jay?? jealousy? 

ps: there will be more smut to this story, I just have to build up y/n and jay’s friendship first. stay tuned for the next update!!

Read part 1 here.

You both took your time in fixing your fucked out looks before returning to the living area. Jay immediately grabbed your waist, assisting you to sit on the couch.

"Are you okay, y/n? I shouldn't have given you a drink, I always forget how easily you get drunk every time. I'm sorry, love." Jay gave you an apologetic look. And being the caring best friend he is, he stayed by your side making sure you're comfortable the whole night. Meanwhile, both you and Jake have been exchanging looks and smiles at each other. It’s not like it wasn’t obvious, Jay definitely sensed that something has happened between you two. Although he doesn’t want to go too far as to where both of you had sex already. This is literally your first time hanging out with his friend and he knows you’re not the type of person to sleep around guys you’re not in a relationship with. He knows you like the back of his hand, he thought to himself. His hands caressing your left knee to comfort you through the night.

By 11 pm, most of Jay's visitors had gone home. Heeseung left a couple of minutes ago saying he has somewhere to go. Sunghoon and Jake also said their goodbyes to both you and Jay. 

"Y/n, come on. Let's go to bed already, you need to rest." You almost forgot Jay's presence due to the alcohol in your system. You both went to his room, Jay carefully placing you on his bed. 

"Let me clean your face, y/n. just lay there, I'll take care of you." He always did this. Every time you slept over to his place, he took care of you as if you guys were a married couple. He carefully wiped your makeup with some makeup wipes, making sure you won't sleep with makeup and dirt on your face. He grabbed one of his t-shirts and placed it beside you.

"Arms up, love. You need to change your clothes into something more comfortable.”  You obeyed him like a puppy. He has seen you in your undies before so you didn't mind taking your shirt off in front of him. You suddenly remembered that you weren't wearing anything underneath your dress. You were thankful that your lower body was covered in his blanket so he wouldn't see your core. You realized this is the first time he is seeing you topless, but you were too wasted to care.

Jay looked flustered at the sight in front of him, you thought it was cute since you know he always sees girls naked anyway, why is he acting this way? 

"You're blushing." You teased him. 

"I'm not. stop it, hurry up already. Aren’t you cold?" You finally put on his shirt. Jay is so much taller than you are so whenever you wear his shirts, you look like you're wearing a dress so your lower area will still be covered, you thought to yourself. 

"I'll wash up first, drink some water and take the medicine on the bedside table. You'll thank me tomorrow, love." He kissed your forehead and then proceeded to the bathroom after making sure you're all tucked in and comfortable. 

You stared at the ceiling for god knows how long. Your mind wandered to the thought of what happened between you and Jake earlier. The sex was beyond amazing, though you felt uncomfortable sleeping with someone you barely even know. You never understood Jay’s fuckboy image, how does he do this every single time? You didn’t like asking him too much about his flings or girlfriends so you don’t actually know much about them. 

“Oh god, was that a one-time thing as well?” Your mind is panicking from the thought. You didn’t get the chance to ask for his contact number or to clarify the status between you two. You clearly told him that you like him, but he didn’t say anything back. You cursed yourself. You've always been like this, so easy to give yourself to someone, to trust them with all your emotions and everything you've got. You grabbed a fistful of your hair out of frustration, unfortunately, Jay clearly saw your annoyance. 

"What's wrong, y/n? Does your head hurt? Come here, I'll help you fall asleep.” He laid beside you and let you rest your head on his chest.

Jay is a sensitive person. He knows that you’re putting up a facade. He can see through all the changes in your expression but he’s not gonna ask you to open up if you’re uncomfortable with it. For now, he wants to savor this moment. Ever since you both went to different universities you barely had time to bond with each other. When was the last time you slept over to his place? When was the last time he saw you wearing his shirt while you’re all comfortable in his bed? When was the last time he held you trapped in his arms? You were clingy, he wasn’t. But you were the only person he loves to cuddle with.

You continued to snuggle up to his chest, relaxing to the slow beating of his heart. “I’m sorry for not behaving tonight. Not gonna happen again.” You pouted at him.

“Why? You were pretty behaved in my opinion. Except for exposing me earlier. Unless.. Don’t tell me- did you do something behind my back?” Jay tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“Wha- noooo. I didn’t do anything. Jake and I just went to the balcony to get some fresh air.” You tried to act innocent. You don’t want to let him know about what happened between you and Jake, not when you don’t know what really just happened.

“I didn’t know you were that close.” Jay tried to sound as normal as he could. Why is he getting nervous all of a sudden?

“He seems like a nice guy. We just talked about you and your sex life, tbh. He said a lot of pretty embarrassing things, you know.” You chuckled, you had no choice but to lie for now. Hopefully, he plays around.

“What? Sex life? What did he say?” He looked at you with wide eyes. 

“He told me how much of a slut you are.” You teased him.

“Careful, love. Don’t call me that. You won’t know how I would react.” He suddenly looked at you with a serious expression.

You both shared eye contact with each other, his lips slowly touching yours. You froze from the sudden physical contact, but for some reason, your body didn’t move away from him. Instead, you kissed him back with the same pace. Your mind panicking about what is currently happening. 

You pulled away after realization hits you.

“Hey, d-don’t do things like that. Best friends don’t kiss each other. I-” You tried to make an excuse for kissing him back but he cut you off by placing his finger in your lips.

“I know. Just forget about it. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything else especially when you smell so much like my friend.” He turned his back away from you, silence wrapping you both like a blanket. “Good night, y/n.” He softly whispered just enough for you to hear.

“Right. Goodnight, Jay.” You shyly replied. Embracing the awkwardness between you two. 

“Oh god, he knew that I fucked his friend in his apartment. This is so embarrassing.” You thought to yourself as you tried your best to sleep.

[everwitch-magiks]

RWRB Fics Roundup

Hey y’all! Once upon a time I had the ambition to post links on here to all the fics and new chapters that I publish on AO3, and I think it’s safe to say that I’ve been an absolute disaster at that over the summer. In my defense I’ve just had so much to write, but that’s not much of a defense seeing as it doesn’t take ages to chuck a link on here. Anyhow. Bottom line is, I’ve severely neglected it, and it’s gotten to a point where I’m just gonna make a post with links to everything I’ve written since June (ish) for you to peruse, so you can see if there’s one that you didn’t catch wind of that catches your eye now. Neat, huh?

So, without further ado, the links! The fics! Let’s go.

Completed works

Love At First Bark General Audiences, AU, tooth-rotting fluff. 3K. “I still don’t know your name, do I?” Henry watches Alex where he’s crouched down in front of David and gently scratching David below his chin. David absolutely loves Alex. Henry can relate. “It’s David,” Henry supplies. “Cool,” Alex says. “And what’s the dog’s name?” Henry blinks at him. “... David?” “What?” Alex exclaims. He looks from David to Henry and then back at David again. “Wow, okay, that is a choice.” Henry wants to sink through the earth and never come back up again.

Shameless Explicit, AU, Henry has a reputation. 14K. Henry has a lot of sex. A lot. He's young and in college and there is no shortage of men to fall in bed with. What better time to explore what he likes and what he fucking loves, as well as to catalogue how to make his many, many partners feel as good as possible? It’s all part of the learning experience. And Henry is a very dedicated student.

Alex has been inescapably aware of Henry ever since that one time they kissed. You don’t just stop being aware of the guy who basically caused your sexuality. So when Henry propositions Alex at a lame frat party, Alex accepts eagerly. Maybe this is exactly what he needs. Maybe, if he can just have Henry once, he’ll have a better chance of finally getting over his embarrassing fixation with Henry. It's worth a try.

When The Time Is Right Part four of my sex club series. Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 16K. “Maybe I could challenge you more,” Henry suggests, his eyes carefully trained on Alex. “And hold you accountable for longer. How does that sound?” “That sounds fucking amazing,” Alex tells him, the words coming out in a rush. “Yes. That. Please.” “Alright, then.” Henry offers him a sly grin. “Alex, love. You just gave me a wonderful idea.” It’s really something, how quickly Alex’s heartbeat picks up. “Oh? Do tell.” Henry’s grin widens. He looks alarmingly pleased with himself. “How would you feel about a staycation?”

When Alex asks Henry for something a little more intense in the bedroom, they end up taking more than just their sex life to the next level.

Out For A Bite Explicit, AU, suspense and supernatural elements. 3K. Henry's eyes fly up, zeroing in on the reflection in the mirror. There, behind him. The man from the bar. He looks different in the fluorescent bathroom lights. Sharper. There’s a look in his eyes that has Henry shivering all over again. It's greedy. Hungry.

He’s staring right at Henry.

Henry's throat feels dry. His heart beats madly. He's heard whispers of this place, and more importantly of its patrons. He thinks he knows what this man is.

ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with) Explicit, AU, Alex and Henry in DIY Punk & mainstream pop punk, respectively. 34K. Teenage music sensation Kensington have taken the world by storm. With their cool leather jackets and wickedly distorted guitars, they're a pop duo that packs a punch. Or at least they sound like one—their lyrics unfortunately lack any semblance of depth. Alex can't fucking stand Kensington. But thankfully, he doesn’t have to. He’s not likely to cross paths with those British pop losers during his final semester of high school in Texas. And even if he did, he'd never let some stupidly attractive blonde take his focus away from the goal that Alex has worked towards for years: winning the Austin Band Slam with his latino punk trio.

But when Henry comes crashing into Alex's life, with his intriguing piano pieces and piercing blue eyes and slow, purposeful kisses that make Alex burn with want, Alex finds that he might need to reevaluate his stance on both pop losers and distractions. Or maybe not. Maybe he’s better off keeping Henry at arm's length, since it's so painfully evident that Henry will never love him back.

Never Tell Me The Odds Teen and Up Audiences, canon verse, an outside perspective on First Prince as well as a story about a certain Star Wars mural. 2K. "Wait!" Alex yells up to the driver. "Stop! Stop the car!" Up close, it's beautiful. Two stories tall. He can’t imagine how somebody was able to put together something like this so fast.

Ash had never imagined that they'd get the chance to actually meet Alex Claremont-Diaz, and much less get the chance to tell Alex about how that very special Star Wars mural came to be. Although of course, Ash never would have met Alex if it hadn’t been for Farida. Farida and her bold courage, and her warm compassion, and her sometimes infuriating (but always endearing) stubbornness.

yrs. faithfully (with nowhere to go) Explicit, canon verse, a lazy morning in bed leads to something more. 3K. When Alex and Henry wake up together the day before their anniversary, they're genuinely planning on getting out of bed and spending the day as productive members or society. Truly, their intentions are honorable. But a trip down memory lane gets them reminiscing about that night exactly one year ago, when Alex had come running through the rain to deliver some choice words about obtuse fucking assholes.

As Alex and Henry start to relive the memory, they quickly realize that they both remember it intimately. So intimately that they might be able to pull off something of a do-over.

Gadgets and Gizmos A-Plenty A companion piece to dearest Hattie’s soulmate fic. Mature, AU, a look into Henry buying sex toys. Yes. That’s the fic. 2K. There’s a bunch of regulars that Amir knows by name (and, unavoidably, by kinks), but most often Playtime gets one-time visitors. Which makes sense, really. A lot of people don’t seem to want to step into the same adult toy shop twice. So Amir is always a little extra curious when there’s a repeat customer, especially one who is this attractive. And, interestingly, one who’s come back so soon.

The tall, classically handsome man with blond hair and blue eyes left Playtime no less than five hours ago after having purchased a medium-sized, fairly standard vibrator well suited for anal play. And now he’s back. Because apparently, he’s found he needed another vibrator.

If Sex Was A Sport We’d Be Winning Mature, AU, a classic Olympics hookup. 3K. It's remarkable, truly, that Alex didn't even want to be here. He only came all the way to Ariake because June was determined to watch a bunch of prissy ponies strut around to music. Still, perhaps the true Olympic experience lies in the wide variety of disciplines. Or, perhaps, it has something to do with chatting up a pretty blond behind the stables and getting him to show you the inside of an Olympic tack room. As Alex quickly takes to Henry’s sweet smiles and easy confidence, he realizes that just a few stolen moments with this man might turn into his most cherished memory from the Tokyo Olympics.

Alex knows better than to get attached, though. He and Henry live an ocean apart. There’s no way this quick fumble in the stable equivalent of a supply closet could ever lead to anything more. Right?

Talk Dirty To Me Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 9K. Henry studies Nora’s expression for a moment. There’s something about her favourable account of this guy she claims not to want to sleep with again that doesn’t add up. "But you're still not interested in taking him on?"

"He wants more than I'm willing to offer," Nora says frankly. Henry’s always liked this about her—how she doesn’t skirt around the hard facts. It's a part of what makes her so good at dominating. "But you know what? For you, he'd be kind of perfect."

Henry has been active in the local BDSM scene for years and there’s no shortage of men who’d love nothing more than to find themselves at his mercy. But Henry is on a break. He’s not looking for a new partner, but he’s also not expecting to become so intrigued by the man that Nora insists he should meet. Alex is a newcomer on the scene who doesn’t yet know exactly what he wants, much less with who. There’s no way that he could turn out to be exactly who Henry needs. Right?

Date night (please toy with me) Explicit, canon verse, a night out leads to some fun with a toy. 4K. This… this is new. They’ve talked about trying this, about what it’d be like to conceal some of their intimacy in plain sight, about what it would feel like to try and reclaim what is most private to them by flaunting it without anyone even knowing, by daring to take risks again. They’ve agreed that they’d still need to be careful, but they’ve also agreed that it would be interesting. That it would be fun.

And apparently, Henry thinks tonight is the night for it. “Do you trust me, love?”

“Yeah.” Alex swallows. He picks up the box, studying it for a moment. “Do you want… what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to go to the bathroom,” Henry says evenly, “You’ll find everything you need in the box. Then I want you to come back and sit down. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Alex taps the box, grinning in Henry’s direction. “I expect we’ll be leaving soon?”

Henry smiles slyly. “If you’re good, yes.”

Ongoing works

Hashtag Soulmates Mature, AU, Henry writes fanfiction. 23K and 7 chapters so far. Alex is perfect and handsome, the golden boy, everybody’s secret crush. So there is absolutely no way that he is the reader who screeches in caps lock every time that Henry posts as much as a drabble. There’s no way. Except Alex just closed his browser fast as fucking lightning, but not before Henry had gotten a good glimpse of the page Alex had open: AO3. ‘Don't Stop Me Now’, Henry’s current wip. The one that Henry literally just updated.

Sweet Jesus. Could it really be?

That... is all! It’s been a productive summer. I’m very excited to continue writing Hashtag Soulmates, and also to start working on a few upcoming First Prince fics that I’m planning on writing. Stay tuned for fics! ♡

[kim-ruzek]

she drew in her first breath out of what love meant

Summary: But when she stood, Kim felt a flood of water and her eyes widened, as she quickly realised what had happened. That the pain wasn’t just back pain, that the Braxton Hicks was actually contractions. Having get so caught up in the possibility that her baby will be a bit late, Kim just accepted that this was fake labour signs.

Kim and Adam's daughter makes a slightly unexpected appearance. Set in an au of s7, where Kim never miscarried rice grain.

Warnings: Childbirth.

Word Count: 1.4k

Read on AO3

Notes: Yesterday, I became an aunt again to the most beautiful niece in the world (seriously, everyone. She is adorable. No, I am not biased, I am just being objective and stating the truth). And so, I'm fully in my baby feels, and what better way to celebrate her appearance with a burzek fix-it fic.

So this is her welcome to the world fic. Her brothers got artwork, but she's getting a more mentally stable aunt so I think she wins. And in a way, I'm happy it isn't the crack fic I'm going to write 🌸🌸🌸

Enjoy!

Everyone said that it’s not often you get pregnant on birth control.

Everyone said it’s not often exes can be friends.

Everyone said it’s not often you can be comfortable co parenting and sharing a home with said ex.

Kim has been greeted with surprise and almost pandering tut tuts when she explained about her and Adam all through this pregnancy. She had almost came to expect it. Which is why, when the doctor said that it probably won’t do anything, and that only a few women actually ever have their water break naturally, and that women tend to have their first baby late, Kim really should’ve expected that she’d be one of the exceptions.

They had gone to the doctor early that morning. Kim is edging closer and closer to her due date, Alice being more and more active inside her. The doctor wasn’t too concerned with thinking that she’ll go into labour soon, repeating that first babies tend to take their time. Kim was fine with this. She’s uncomfortable, yes, big and feeling very much like she’s going to explode. But as the due date drew closer, she was becoming more and more emotional at the thought that her daughter wouldn’t be inside her, that she couldn’t protect her like that anymore.

On the way home, they stopped to grab—extra—breakfast, Kim being hungry again and Adam can always eat. Alice was making herself known, kicking and turning, Adam resting his hand on her belly whenever they were stopped in traffic, a smile on his face.

Kim was beginning to think that maybe people were right about one thing, that maybe they won’t be able to co parent. Not platonically, anyway. His smile twisted something in her and all she wanted to do was stroke her fingers across his jaw.

She settled for just entwining her hand with his.

The pregnancy, seeing their daughter grow inside her, preparing for her arrival, it has brought them closer. Especially when the hormones hit. There has been moments when the air between them is filled with that tension, the love between them palatable. But they’re not crossing that line.

In a very unlike them sort of way, they had the conversation about it. Both agreeing that they can see them doing this, having a relationship, being a couple raising their baby. But communication and keeping together has never been there strong point, Alice being why they’ve only just started to be successful in that way. And mixing up a baby in their problems, it’s not something they want to do. They were both messed up by their parents and the one thing they want is for Ally to be okay.

So they made an agreement to wait, to reassess when Alice is here, when they’ve got past those first months where even the strongest couples can fall apart in.

It doesn’t stop them absent-mindedly seeking each other out most of the time, always looping their hands around each other and cuddling on the couch and playing with each other’s hair. It doesn’t stop them, when Kim’s hormones turn to a hundred, from being intimate. And before Kim got so big, before sleeping is so uncomfortable for her she can barely stand having the cover on her, let alone another warm body lying beside her, it didn’t stop them from sleeping in the same bed.

They’re just friends, having a child, and are very much in love with each other.

It was after they grabbed the extra breakfast when Kim’s back starting to ache. At this point, she’s used to having aches, so she just tried to adjust herself in a more comfortable position.

Adam had noticed and when they got home he told her just to be comfy on the sofa, so that’s what she did.

The back pain was persistent, and Kim started getting her Braxton Hicks again. The first time she got them, Adam freaked out and called Sylvie—the blonde very patiently explaining it to him again. Now, Kim didn’t think to tell him, them being used to this, instead just ran her hand over her belly.

They had a few visitors stop by, to say hello to Kim now she can no longer go up the stairs to Intelligence. Jay and Hailey were first, then Trudy. They asked Trudy to be their daughter’s grandmother and she had already taken the role to heart. Mouch, too, being their baby’s honorary grandfather. He didn’t come to visit with Trudy, being on shift. Then, finally, Kevin came, Jordan accompanying him.

The Atwaters stayed longer than anyone else, but then they also had left—it once again just being Kim and Adam. And then it was just Kim, Adam getting the message that something they ordered for the baby was in the shop.

The pain in her back had tripled in intensity, and Kim found herself having to get up, needing to walk a little to see if that would help. She thought she’d walk to the bathroom, having to need to pee like she always does now.

But when she stood, Kim felt a flood of water and her eyes widened, as she quickly realised what had happened. That the pain wasn’t just back pain, that the Braxton Hicks was actually contractions. Having get so caught up in the possibility that her baby will be a bit late, Kim just accepted that this was fake labour signs.

Adam left, saying he’ll be back within the hour. Kim had been prepped that labour is long, and even though they had been told to hear to the hospital if her water broke, she waited for Adam to be back. She could’ve called him, but she didn’t want him to rush and get into an accident.

It’s only an hour, Kim had thought.

And forty minutes later, Kim kneeling on her bathroom floor, in intense pain, she regretted that thought. Because of course this would happen. That on top of everything, apparently Alice wanted to make a quicker appearance.

“Hey, darlin’! I’m back,” Adam calls to her and she could’ve cried in relief that he’s finally here; Kim had left her phone in the living room when the contractions hit, hard.

“Adam!” Kim calls back to him, not caring how urgent and distressed her voice sounded. Adam was instantly in the bathroom.

“Kim? Kim, are you okay?” He says as he gets there.

“I’m in labour,” She tells him, although as she looks at his face, she can tell he’s already gathered that. She must be a mess, on the floor, hot and sweaty, crying. But he doesn’t look like he’s even bothered, the shock fading fast and he’s leaping into action.

Adam kneels beside her, softly stroking back her hair, laying a kiss on her forehead. “It’s okay, darlin’. I’m here now.”

After her comforts her, indicating for her to take his hand as another contraction comes, Adam is fishing his phone out of his pocket, calling for an ambulance. Kim’s too far in to even bother wondering if he can drive her, that it’s better for Alice to come in their bathroom with towels all around them rather than in his car.

Although, both would prefer if she didn’t come before the ambulance.

It’s two minutes later Adam’s phone lights up with a text. We just got the call to your address!! Is Kim alright?

It reassured Kim—and Adam, really—that Sylvie is the paramedic who’s coming, them needing that familiar face at this scary, new time in their lives.

Kim’s labour was painful, intense, but short. Alice appears before the ambulance does, Adam and Kim staring in wonder and amazement at their new born daughter.

Adam made a joke that he’s glad he bothered Sylvie with so many questions, as he expertly wrapped up Ally, hugging Kim as she hugged their daughter. She’s still connected, and Kim still needs to deliver the placenta, and luckily it’s only two minutes later when Sylvie is here, and they greet the paramedic with a smile.

“Your goddaughter was a little impatient,” Adam says to her and Kim smiles at him, nosing into him slightly as she does it, love in her heart.

“Just like her father.” As if to prove that point, Adam leans down and gently kisses her, not caring what they agreed or that Sylvie is there. All that matters is them, is Alice, is the love they share; the love Alice is born into.

It isn't the perfect birth story. But nothing about their story was, imperfect relationship, imperfect conception, imperfect family. And that makes it all that more beautiful, that despite the imperfections, it is perfection without a doubt.

That Alice, and the love that surrounds her, love pure, whole and unselfish, is what defines that, redefines what it means to love, to live, their daughter the perfect amongst the imperfections.

[wyn-n-tonic]

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part VIII

Word Count: 1,304 Warnings: PTSD. I don't think anything else needs a warning? Message me if I'm wrong though, I'll fix it. Author's Note: Thanks for your patience in getting this chapter out! Last week was difficult and then I had friends come over for the weekend (FRIENDS! AMAZING!). I'm not super proud of this but I'm also proud of this. We're getting to the end of this series and I'm just really... in fucking awe at all the nice things that have been said to me about this. Like, I'm genuinely over the moon and losing my mind every time somebody says something nice to me. Thank you so much for reading!

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

He slaps the passport against Pope’s forehead, starting a long held tradition between the two and he knows this will be the last time as he slowly says, “Nos vemos.”

See you.

The flatness he gives the words lets Santiago Garcia know, as he takes his friend and brother in, if he sees this man again, it will be through exchanged nods at functions for the others.

Santiago steps forward and Frankie embraces him but it’s wrong. It’s all wrong for who they are to each other. Who they were. It’s wooden, the weight of this mission—this mess—adding a new kind of density to the pain he carries. Frankie’s out for the count. For good.

“Cuídate,” he whispers into his friend’s ear.

Take care of yourself.

And he walks away, heading home where he belongs. A place he shouldn’t have left in the first place. Out of all the regrets Santiago has, dragging that man to Colombia might just be one of his biggest.

Leah was right, Santiago is never the one picking up the pieces. —————

He has to knock.

She disabled the doorbell the day they moved in, placing a small sign where delivers and visitors could easily read:

A combat veteran lives here, please knock gently.

She didn’t want any loud, sudden noises to trigger panic attacks. Wanted him to be comfortable in his home.

He didn’t tell her it would be today, wasn’t sure when he’d be able to get a flight out so he didn’t want to get her hopes up. But it had all worked out and he hadn’t had time to call and he doesn’t have his keys.

He didn’t take any identifying information with him. No phone. No keys. No wallet. Just the black tags that now sit heavy against his chest. He slipped them on mid-flight and walked back into the country with them to a quiet, welcome home, soldier from the customs agent. He didn’t even notice as he stamped the little blue book that the name stamped into the metal was completely different.

Frankie scratches his smooth face and stares down at the near bare feet standing firm on the wood of his front porch.

He made it.

He packed light back into the States, dumping his clothes and boots in the trash. All he has now is eight thousand in cash, a couple gifts for the girls and the fake passport he’ll be running through the shredder tonight. He picked up the flip flops at a vendor where he bought some of the shit to stuff with the cash.

Another steadying breath drags through his lungs and he looks around his silent neighborhood, the one Leah insisted on because of its proximity to the base. Illegal to set off fireworks this close to government property.

She shot down every house he found in any other part of the city and he didn’t even know why until the Fourth of July when his back bristled in anxiety waiting for the attacks to take his mind for the night.

Tears well up in his eyes as he finally brings his hand down on the sturdy wood.

She loves me so much more than I deserve. —————

“You stole my goddamn shirt, Francisco Morales,” she mumbles sleepily into his chest.

They haven’t left the couch all night, both his girls with their faces firmly planted into his chest. Their fitful sleep eased by the peace of his beating heart against their ears.

“I brought it back,” he laughs, smoothing her hair back, “but I won’t take it again, baby, I promise.”

And he means it. The only reason he took it to begin with is because she wears it as often as he does, her smell wrapped up in his and he brought it for comfort. But the rain and the saltwater of the sea wiped that scent away and he’s not doing this shit again.

“Because you’re not going anywhere again, right?” There’s a slight panic to the words, no matter how slowly they roll out.

He pulls her closer, “never, mi alma.”

“Good,” she looks up and he breaks all over again at her bloodshot, tired eyes, glassy and searching. Her pain meeting his but unspoken in favor of quiet reunion, his heart breaks because it wasn’t just him almost losing everything on a risky at best plan and he never even stopped to consider it was her everything too.

He saw it when she opened the door and instead of crumbling inwards with their daughter resting against her chest, she opened her arms and let him crumble instead. It was there when she excused herself to the bathroom and when she came back, falling apart in stolen moments of peace and quiet.

“I won’t do this again,” he says, the pad of this thumb sliding across the curve of her cheekbone; skin already raw with tear stains where they’ve run like rivers around her. She breaks into him then, arms tight around his still sore body as she buries her head into his broad chest. He instinctively moves to running his hand through her hair—his large hands turning her to jelly with each brush against her scalp—before he speaks again, adding reassurance to his words.

“And if I didn’t think you’d love it so much, I’d never even want to go back to St. John's.” He stresses that last bit, because it was the least stressful part of it all and still stabbed at him. Pulled at him. Reminded him that he was away. That he did this to his family.

“If you don’t want to be there,” she hiccups, “then I’ll never love it.”

And she means it. —————

Frankie cuts the last box open to begin sorting through the goods shipped home. The system follows that Frankie unloads the boxes, Benny separates the goods and Will counts the money. It’s worked flawlessly over the weekend as everything is accounted for, including the stacks that bought their way back into the country.

“How do we go about this shit anyway?” It's the question that’s been on Frankie’s mind from the jump, hoping he doesn’t find himself in another goddamn mess to maneuver away from.

“We can’t deposi—“

“No shit, William, so what do we do?”

He doesn’t need more crimes on top of all the ones he’s already committed. Money laundering on top of murder. Doesn’t even know where to start and a hundred thousand is hardly something to open a carwash about. He feels a stress settling in as he realizes he didn’t fully think this through.

“Just be smart about it,” comes the younger Miller’s voice, “keep it in the house, use it for groceries and other errands. Anything small that can be paid for cash, pay for it in cash. It adds up so your bank isn’t hit with constant fees, you can use that for the big shit. If you get in a pinch, deposit a couple hundred but never more than that. If you do need more, give cash to a friend and have them transfer it to your account.”

Benny looks up and finds the stunned faces of his brothers, “what? I dated a chick who was really into that Dave Ramsey guy.”

Frankie just continues to look at him in confusion, not expecting any of this information to come from Benny of all people and it seems Will wasn’t either because he follows it up with,

“Who the fuck is Dave Ramsey?”

“You know,” Benny continues to separate the goods into piles to be donated, “he’s that guy who talks about the money, I think that's the best way to go about it. We can’t exactly Breaking Bad this.”

“You're not smart enough to Breaking Bad this,” Frankie tells him.

“Nope,” he smiles, “I'm smarter.”

TAG LIST: @justanotherblonde23​​ | @notcookiebelle​​ | @greeneyedblondie44​​ | @icanbeyourjedi​​ | @princess76179​​ | @knivesareout​​ | @phoenixpascal​​ | @lexi-b-writes​​ | @empress-palpat1ne​​ | @mouthymandalorianalso​​ | @starlightmornings​​ | @soyelfuegoquearde​​ | @darnitdraco​​​ | @hyperfixatingmenever

[alloftheimaginess]

AD INTERVIEW

Other parts

Jared Padalecki

Misha Collins

Jensen Ackles

This part sucks ass but I low key like it. I’ll probably end up redoing it soon

"Hello welcome Ad" I say opening the front door for the camera crew and Alex comes up behind me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

"I'm Yn Calvert" I say.

"And I'm Alexander Calvert, come right in" he says and I smile up at him.

"This house was built by my great great grandmother when she was in her 20's and then it was a gift to my great grandparents on their wedding night and then it was given to my grandparents and then my parents and then when Alex and I got married my mom handed us the keys" I say.

"We're currently in the middle of upgrading and rebuilding everything and we've been working on it for three years now" Alex says.

"This is our living room" I say as we walk in to it.

"This is honestly my favorite room in the house, when we're actually staying here the boys and I spend a lot of time in here, playing games, playing the piano and having quiet reading time" I say.

"I learned with kids a while ago that we can't have all the fancy things and I'm cool with with that because I enjoy the family vibes we created" I say going to the wall that holds all the photos.

"This is Misha on his first day of kindergarten" I say pointing to the photo.

"I cried harder than he did" I say laughing.

"This is a picture from our wedding night, I adore this picture so much because all of the couples can be seen dancing around us, I remember this moment because Flicker by Niall Horan was playing and at that point it was one of my favorite songs and right there you can see Jared and his wife being all cute" I say pointing it out.

"All the art you see in here is made by two of Yn's sisters who run an art shop" Alex says.

"They've been painting ever since we were young and the work they put out is amazing and every time we get a visitor they always ask where I got it from and I can easily promote my siblings" I say laughing.

"Over here is our kitchen" Alex says walking up the two step departing our kitchen from our living room.

"We tore down the wall because we wanted the open space, all the natural light and when I'm making dinner I can keep an eye out on the kids and they can eat their snacks at the table and watch tv or play the game while I'm doing whatever I need to do" I say.

"Let me show you my favorite part about the kitchen" Alex says leading them over to the sink.

"Yn cooks dinner pretty much every night which leaves me and the boys with the clean up and they like how big the sink is" he says showing off our farmhouse sink.

"Makes washing dishes so much easier and Aj use to take a lot of baths in here" he says patting the sink and I laugh.

"You sound like you're trying to convince everyone to get one" I say and he laughs with me.

"Maybe I am" he says taking them to the other room.

"Over here is where our dining room was but we don't use it so we made it into a branch off living room" Alex says.

"We celebrate the holidays here and it's perfect for Christmas when we have our families and friends here and the living room is taken, we have these two ceiling chairs and then some cushions and bean bags I like to think of it as a sort of cozy corner, this usually turns into the kids hang out spot when there's a group of them because we have the gaming tv here and they can just lounge and enjoy whatever game they are playing" I say.

"The backyard is what I'm probably proudest of" I say opening the folding sliding glass doors and we step outside.

"We have the pool over there completely gated off because Aj can't fully swim yet and he likes to play outside when I'm on the patio writing" I say.

"And on that side we have the boys playhouse from Charmed Playhouses, Yn seen a picture of one and she fell in love with them and decided that the boys needed to have a Harry Potter themed playhouse" he says.

"It's literally so cool in there, I should have just walked you to the playhouse and did a tour of that" I say laughing.

"We got Harry Potter because I've always been a massive fan and Misha when he was around three he fell in love with it and I knew I had to do it plus it's perfect for both boys and girls" I say.

"Now up the stairs on the right we have the office" I say sliding the glass sliding door open and stepping inside and Alex follows me in.

"There's not a lot here" I say.

"We're currently working on expanding this room because Alex has his desk and I want a space where I can put all of my art stuff so we're in the middle of that" I say.

"This is also where Yn keeps her awards because she's too embarrassed to show them off so she keeps them tucked away up here where she can glance at them to remind her that she can always be better" he says moving the picture frames they are behind.

"This is the hallway" I say and Alex laughs.

"Yn loves this hallway" he says.

"I do, I love it so much" I say giggling and I stop walking.

"This is why I love this hallway so much" I say pointing at the pictures.

"My family is very big and very all over the place. From my birth dad I have six siblings and on my moms side I have five and it's like crazy trying to get everyone together and when I found out I was pregnant with Mish everyone came and they showed up and I managed to get a few decent shots out of it" I say laughing.

"And next to that I have my all time favorite picture of me and my baby sister Zendaya at the oscars in 2015. It's a photo from the red carpet and I was telling her I was pregnant and this was her reaction" I say laughing.

"Moving on, the first room we have belongs to Misha, they are both down for a nap right now in Aj's room so I can show off Misha's room" I say opening the door and stepping inside.

"My mom actually designed this room for him and she put it together while we were in Canada while Alex was filming so we came back to it and it was a nice surprise, Misha loved it more than anything" I say laughing.

"She got him a moving bookshelf and every time we go to the store he asks for a book so he can add them to the book shelf so that way no one will know which books opens the bookshelf" he says tipping the book back and it slides open.

"This is his 'hey Misha clean your room bub guests are coming' hiding spot" I say.

"Gets the job done" Alex says and I laugh rolling my eyes.

"Until I have to come in behind him and clean it" I say.

"This is the game room" I say.

"It has all of the games your mind could ever imagine" Alex says opening the doors under where the tv sits and it is stuffed with games.

"Texas thunderstorms have taught us that we can never have enough games or candles to entertain us when we lose power or when it storms so much the boys are up all night" I say.

"Next is our bedroom" I say stopping at the closed double doors and I push them open.

"This is where the magic happens" he says and I laugh rolling my eyes and I step in.

"Our bedroom was one of the first things we did when we moved in, we tore it apart and with the help of my best friend slash Alex's fake father and his wife and we rebuilt this room in about two to three weeks and it was like the best time of my life" I say.

"In this little hole is where we keep Misha when guest come so we can pretend we did all the work around here" he says and I laugh.

"You're an idiot" I say and he laughs with me.

"This is a laundry chute, there's one in the main rooms such as ours, Misha's and Aj's and they can just send the clothes right to the basket which then I can just dump into the washer" he says and I nod.

"Plus there's never any clothes lying around, everyone should have one of these" I say.

"Through here is our bathroom and closet" he says opening the door and we go inside.

"It's just a bathroom it's nothing special to me but to Yn it is everything" he says and I press the button and the shelves come out the cabinet.

"It's my vanity but when I'm done I can put it away and not worry about anything getting messed up ever and I love it because everything is unorganized but you can't see the clutter" I say getting off of the pouf and I go into the closet.

"This is probably the most extreme room we have in our house because honestly I'm addicted to shopping and I need the space. I always wanted like the closet that Hannah Montana had and I didn't get it but honestly this one has hers beat so I'm not complaining" I say and Alex laughs.

"Like I said about the bathroom I don't get it" he says and I laugh.

"And the last room" I say opening the door showing off the nursery and I step inside them following me.

"You're the first ones that aren't apart of our inner circle to find out and we want to use this video as an announcement" Alex says and I nod.

"This nursery is for our princess who we are happy to announce will be born in four months" Alex says. "January 1st" I say smiling at the camera.

[sxfterhearts]

53. [4:07 pm]

➳ pairing: yugyeom x reader

➳ genre/warnings: fluff fluff fluff, baker!au, baker!yugyeom, exchange student!y/n

➳ word count: 2,040 words

➳ summary: “Sit down, I’ll get it.”

➳ author's note: rach-stop-mentioning-food-in-every-single-timestamp-challenge: failed. just the thought of baker!yugs and bread has me feeling all soft and gooey inside. which is why i whipped this one up! it has been a phat minut since i last wrote so yea :”) (also i should mention italicised are korean!!) regardless i hope this will help brighten up your day a little!! sending many warm hugs xx

//

Your phone screeched from its resting place on the other side of your room, signalling the start of your day. It was strategically placed atop your wooden, old-fashioned dresser, with the sole purpose of motivating you to get out of bed and turn the damn thing off.

With a groan, you stretched all four of your limbs, releasing a satisfied yawn as your joints popped after a good nights’ rest.

It was late afternoon. The rays of sunshine splattered deep orange and gold as it sneaked past the cracks the half-open blinds, painting your tiny studio apartment with lazy signs of life.

You dragged your sleep-ridden body to the dresser, still reluctant to start the day after what was an immensely taxing Friday night. Having just arrived in this bustling Korean city a mere two weeks ago, you were somewhat proud of yourself for landing a part-time job to support yourself when you started your semester of exchange. The only problem was, it happened to be a bartending job in a rowdier part of Seoul, commonly patronised by sleazy middle-aged men and their younger lady companions.

It wasn’t like you had much of a choice, anyways. Your Korean was still very much at an elementary level, which didn’t prove to be a hindrance in the bar you worked at. Most of the drinks were named in English, and the owner of the bar, a surprisingly kind, motherly lady in her sixties, paid you well above the minimum wage.

Still, it was your second Friday shift ever, and it clearly took its toll on you. Staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you cringed. The eyebags under your eyes were so dark it could’ve easily been mistaken as a smoky-eye look gone wrong; your lips were awfully chapped and an alarming shade of red, while a few nasty pimples threatened to break through the surface of your skin.

In other words, you looked like a wreck.

Grabbing your phone, you checked the time. Ten minutes past four. Oh no, you winced internally. You were going to be very late if you didn’t leave your house in the next fifteen minutes. As though an internal switch flipped on, you turned the shower to full blast and stepped inside, sucking in your teeth as the cold water splashed against your skin.

In eight minutes flat, you were tugging on your beat-up sneakers and dashing for the elevator in your only pair of clean, non-alcohol-stained jeans and a plain white t-shirt that you conveniently picked off the pile of dry clothes on your sofa. You jammed the down button a couple of times, all while checking the time on your phone.

“Shit,” You cursed under your breath. 4:19. You couldn’t wait any longer.

Throwing all caution to the wind, you sprinted down the fire escape and did not stop for a single breath until you reached the final destination: a charming little bakery across the road from your apartment.

Rushing to the bakery just before closing time had become a habit for you. Amidst the chaos of moving and finding your feet in this new city, the bakery and its never-ending stream of patrons were your source of stability. Not only was it less busy and crowded during the evening, but it was also much easier for you to snag a couple of good bargains in the form of randomly-packaged, discounted breads.

The fact that the cute baker was the last one in store and in charge of closing up was just an added bonus.

//

A high-pitched, annoying chime broke him out of his daze. With a groan, Yugyeom straightened his slumped figure and stretched his arms above his head, releasing a satisfied sigh as his backbone cracked.

It was late afternoon. The rays of sunshine splattered deep orange and gold as it flooded through the drawn, white lacey curtains, painting his grandfather’s bakery with calm and relief; a peaceful conclusion. The end of daylight was drawing near.

He wiped a stray trail of saliva off the corner of his mouth before sucking on a mint. Checking the clock that hang above rack upon empty rack which usually contained baked goods, his palms inexplicably grew clammy.

4:27, Yugyeom mused. He shook his head to clear his spiralling thoughts. Keep it together, dummy. Just because she came the past few days doesn’t mean that she’ll come today too. She has her own life, her own friends, maybe even a boyfri-

Oh?

Just as his mind was about to veer off course and crash into the thorny garden of unrequited love, Yugyeom caught sight of a blurry figure at the corner of his eyes. Intrigued, he stood up straight and watched as you appeared in front of the bakery’s double doors. For a few seconds, you simply clutched your knees and huffed and puffed. Yugyeom could barely stop the shit-eating grin that split across his face and had to bite down hard on his bottom lip to avoid looking like a fool.

Then, you did the unexpected. From the back pocket of your jeans, you pulled out your lip balm and applied it on your lips, using the bakery’s glass window as a mirror. At that, Yugyeom threw his head back in a hysterical fit of laughter.

It was hard for him to explain the feeling in his chest, really. The first time you walked through the doors of the bakery, eyes twinkling with pure wonder and amazement as you browsed the array of baked goods like how a girl would admire a display of diamond rings, he was screwed. You captivated his interest as you fumbled for the right number of coins to pay for your discounted breads, tongue stuck out and head tilted adorably while doing so. He gave you, the damsel in distress, a helping hand, by laying all your coins out on the counter and ordering them from lowest to highest value. Probably not the most helpful of gestures, but Yugyeom liked to tell himself that he was performing his civic duty by welcoming a visitor of Korea through non-verbal currency explanations and an introduction to the locals’ favourite breads, pastries and drinks. That evening, the two of you sat on the high table by the window, slowly savouring melon breads, injeolmi toasts, ang butter or red bean butter breads and an assortment of cream cheese breads. While the breads were wonderfully fluffy and the sweetness was at an acceptable level, Yugyeom instructed you to wash it down with an iced Americano.

Since then, the mere thought of the bakery, going to the bakery, its breads and pastries, its drinks and Yugyeom coated your insides with sweetness. Admittedly, the reason why you kept visiting the bakery was to create more memories with Yugyeom and ride the amazing sugar rush you felt whenever you were around him.

After rearranging your hair for the nth time, you bravely pushed open the doors and walked in at 4:29pm.

“Hello!” You called out in Korean as you waved at him, a wide smile plastered on your lips. There was an obvious language barrier (you with your kindergarten-level Korean and him with his Game of Thrones-standard of English), but it wasn’t obvious. The two of you came up with creative ways to break it down.

“Hi Y/N! Sit down. I’ll get it.” Yugyeom answered in English, emerging from behind the counter with his trusty English-Korean dictionary and a matcha latte he prepared in anticipation of your arrival. He walked towards you with an air of confidence, reminding you of a model in a fashion show despite wearing his typical slacks and white button-up, with sleeves rolled up and cross drop-earrings adorning his ears. Yugyeom quickly set the items down before pulling out a chair, nodding towards it to encourage you to sit.

You muffled a giggle at his gentlemanly actions, but complied, nonetheless. You glanced over to the boy, sipping on the creamy drink as he retrieved two large plates from the cake fridge. Sure, the assortment of cakes should have been the main attraction, but your eyes drifted and settled on the stern look of concentration on his face and his prominent collarbones peeking out of his shirt. Unbuttoned, you assumed, as he was going to be off work soon.

You were halfway through the drink when Yugyeom returned to the table. He noticed this and didn’t pass up the opportunity to tease you about it. “Is it really good?”

“Thirsty. I just woke up.” You admitted, cheeks heating up in slight embarrassment.

Yugyeom’s wholehearted laughter filled the entire bakery.

“H-hey! Bad boy… Mean…”

“No, I…” Yugyeom stifled another round of laughter as he tried to pull himself together. “Cute. You wake up, come to see me in bread house.”

“Not ‘bread house’, ‘bakery’.”

“Ah, thank you. Bakery.” He tested the word on his lips, getting used to the pronunciation. “Bakery…”

“What are these?”

Yugyeom handed you a small cake fork while taking a seat. “Here. This plate is for tarts, and this one is for cakes. The tarts have the same filling – custard. But we use different fruits, like strawberries, berries, grapes and peaches. Whatever’s in season, really. Strawberries and cherry tarts are really popular in winter. Try some!” He reverted back in Korean whenever he was explaining, which was a great opportunity for you to pick up new vocabulary.

It was also a fantastic opportunity to try delicious pastries. You rotated through the entire plate painted in shades of pinks and green, taking a bite of each tart. Yugyeom just sat there, head in his palms, and admired the slight changes in your expression whenever you tried a new flavour. As creepy as it sounds, watching you eat the food he prepared was gradually becoming his favourite pastime.

“Cherry! That one is the best! It’s…” You quickly reached for the dictionary, softly muttering to yourself as you thumbed through the pages. “Here, acid. Acid, not too sweet. The strawberry one too.” Your eyes crinkled at their edges as they met his intrigued orbs, proudly smiling at yourself for learning a new word today.

“The word you’re looking for is ‘acidity’. ‘Acid’ is for chemistry.”

“Acidity?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Yugyeom reached over, his huge palm caressing the top of your head before ruffling your hair. You pouted and feigned annoyance, all while your heart squeezed and pounded away in your chest.

“Hey…” You protested weakly.

Yugyeom’s hand retreated. He placed it on the table, right next to your smaller ones. The distance between your hands taunted him; tempted him to close the gap and intertwine your fingers with his. Honestly, Yugyeom wasn’t used to this; wasn’t used to feeling like his insides were going to explode. His mouth opened and closed several times as he pondered his next move, wondering whether it would overstep your boundaries.

But then you stared at him in anticipation with your beautiful brown orbs, innocent and confused, as your lips wrapped around the straw of your matcha latte. Your gaze asked him an unspoken question, urging him on.

Yugyeom dragged your chair closer his, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from you. He rested both of his palms on top of your knees, gaining your full attention. “I like…” Yugyeom paused, catching his bottom lip between his pearly whites as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards. “I like this time with you.”

The soft giggle was purely involuntary, you swore to him afterwards. Yet, as you watched his expression flicker into one of panic, you were quick to cast out his worries. “No, no! Don’t get me wrong. Did you mean, you like spending time with me?”

“Ah, I was trying to be romantic. Stupid English…” Yugyeom cursed under his breath in Korean, unaware that you were familiar with the word ‘romantic’ due to the hours you spent (wasted) binging Korean dramas. “Yes, I do.” He said while squeezing your kneecaps in affirmation.

You had to remind yourself time and time again to keep calm in the presence of this charming man and his magical hands. “Me too, Yugyeom. You’re my favourite time of the day.”

Needless to say, your afternoon ritual continued for weeks and months to come.

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 18 - Holy Ghost

Masterlist; Chapter 17

Summary: First few days in Tallinn are like a calm before the storm, while you and Neil are getting used your new dynamic. It proves to be rather surprising...

Warnings: 18+ (yep, she did it again because these two wanted to); swearing.

Author’s Notes: So ummm... I’m not sure what happened here and you’ll be the judges of that. All I can say is that I’ve been inspired by the skewed tie and that Tallinn will take at least two more chapters because they keep getting distracted. Hope you’ll enjoy! Feedback is always welcome as I’m not sure what I’m doing...🙈

The lovely edit has been provided by my amazing and talented friend @sh3tani​ (thanks for putting up with my bs ����)

Despite technically being a Tenet agent for a while, the dramatic changes of pace in your life never failed to amaze you. After that careless morning in London, mere hours later you got the text from TP, sending you and the Cavalry to Tallinn. Minutes afterwards, Neil burst into your room saying that the younger TP called, giving him directions to run a few lab tests and then to meet him in the capital of Estonia, as well. Neither of you had any clues as to why but then that was rather expected. 

That is how you found yourself in a safe house in the suburbs of Tallinn. For security and convenience, you have joined Ives’s squad there while Neil booked a hotel room nearby to keep up the appearances before TP. For the first few days, the boss has not yet arrived in the city, and therefore, as Neil put it, there was much more room to maneuver. Whatever that meant.

Estonian safe house was a relatively vast apartment on the ground floor of an old brick house. It had six bedrooms furnished with simple Ikea beds, bedside tables, and a small wardrobe. There was also one bathroom (hell of an inconvenience for nine people occupying the place) and a kitchen opening into a living room with sofas and tv. The space was nearly barren save for the objects needed to survive for however long you were bound to stay there. On the day of your arrival, Ives sent you and Wheeler to the shop for the supplies, reasoning being that apparently you two had most brain cells in the whole team. You enjoyed the possibility to charge your introvert batteries before days spent with eight people, of which only two you actually knew. With close to no information concerning the point of the mission, the days have been spent idly chatting, playing games, and watching television. In Estonian, naturally. For you, a crucial part of the survival became continuous reception and the ability to reach out to Neil when needed. Which was often and soon became a passing joke among the rest of the company. Once Henrik tried to steal your phone and ended up with a bread knife pressed against his neck, the innocent fun ended. That was on day two.

Luckily you got your own room, while the others were forced to share. This you owed to the fact that you were not part of the squad and hence had the right to privacy. It proved rather useful the day when unexpected company came. You were busy trying not to burn the scrambled eggs on a scratched-up pan, half humming a song you heard on the radio. Despite the early hour, everyone was up and either moving about or outside on a run. If there was anything you have learned from the experience so far, it was that Tenet soldiers started the day early and were shit at cooking. Eggs, instant noodles, and oven pizzas were the menu staples. Sighing, you picked up the only clean plate left when you heard a commotion in the hallway. Not long after, a voice called out:

“Y/N? You’ve got a visitor” you did not like the amused undertone in that information.

“Yeah…?” hesitantly, you stepped into the hallway.

The cheeky grin was quite the sight at 9 am.

“Good morning, sunshine” you resisted the urge to break the plate on Neil’s head.

At least he brought coffee.

“Hey,” warily you looked at Michael, who was loitering next to you, interested in the situation “Should we…?” looking at the door to your room, you met Neil’s gaze.

“Naturally” he smiled and followed you in.

Only once you closed the door behind you both, blocking out the curious stares, you breathed out the air you did not know you were holding. You set the plate on the bedside table and grinned as Neil carelessly threw himself onto your bed.

“Thought I’ll get a kiss or something for all that awkwardness out there” you commented, eyeing the man sprawled on your mattress.

Briefly, you marvelled at how you have managed to become this comfortable with each other. But then almost having sex was bound to count for something. Supposedly.

“You will if you come here” Neil raised his head and extended a hand in an invitation.

Mournfully you glanced at your abandoned breakfast and crossed the space, intertwining your fingers with his. You were not surprised when Neil pulled you down onto the bed, only just managing not to lie on him. Feigning disappointment, he huffed and leaned in, kissing you slowly. Deepening the kiss, you tangled your fingers in his hair, bringing him closer. With legs interlocked, half-lying on the narrow bed, it was all too real. In moments like this, it was easy to believe that maybe it was meant to be. Breaking up the kiss, you opened your eyes to stare at Neil. In the soft light coming through the opened shutters, you could clearly see the darker rims around his blue irises. In the morning, his eyes resembled the colour of an ocean. The long eyelashes framing the eyes and the eyebrows, furrowed in concentration, gazing back at you. Your eyes then landed on his parted mouth, the corners turned down slightly, and the shape of his lips. You wondered how someone this beautiful could choose you among all the people in the universe.

“Your breakfast and the coffee are getting cold” he murmured, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Do you want me to get up?” running your fingertips over his temple, you reveled in the intimacy of the moment.

Neil smiled and raised your joined hands to kiss your knuckles.

“Not really. I like having you this close so I can stare” he admitted with a sheepish grin.

“Same, actually,” you mirrored his expression, dragging fingers through the golden hair.

It seemed like your London evening full of important conversations gave you more confidence. Suddenly it was not that scary to share your thoughts and feelings with him because there was a chance he will understand. Or at least not ridicule you. As though Neil was reading your mind, he asked:

“What are you thinking about?” you could tell he was genuinely interested.

That was enough to make you feel a surge of feelings towards him. Maybe it won’t hurt to say something… Taking a deep breath, you warned:

“Just don’t laugh,”

“I’ll do my best” Neil bopped your nose quickly, making your brain short-circuit for a second.

What even. Focusing all your attention on him, your eyes wandered over his face. Resting on all the features that made him the man you loved.

“Sometimes I just can’t get over how beautiful you are… like a bloody masterpiece” you cupped his cheek “And I’ve no clue why you’re so fixed on me” sighing dejectedly, you awaited a response.

If the slightly widened eyes were any clue, he was surprised by your admission.

“That was probably the best compliment I’ve ever gotten” Neil stumbled over the sentence.

So, it was worth saying. For another time, you left the discussion on how that could even be true.

“Have you seen yourself though? How could I not be fixed on you?” it was Neil’s turn to cup your cheek, making you blush.

The pure confidence in his eyes was too much to bear at the moment. Sitting up, you kicked him lightly, enjoying the affronted look.

“Now you’re being ridiculous” you moved to stand up, but Neil took hold of your waist, sitting up as well.

You were too close again, noses brushing. It was easy to lean in and kiss him. Only when you did, a knock resounded in the room. Fucking hell.

“Can I come in?” the cockney accent was a giveaway “I bloody hope you two aren’t getting up to stuff”

Despite yourself, you giggled with your lips still brushing over Neil’s, making him sigh. For a millisecond, he tightened his grip over your waist and then let go and moved an inch away. You looked at him for permission before calling out:

“Be our guest”

In an attempt to look as casual as it was possible, you grabbed the plate with your cold eggs and passed Neil his coffee. Sitting back down on the bed, you pasted a neutral smile onto your face. As if that would divert anyone’s attention from your tangled hair and Neil’s flushed cheeks. Ives opened the door and scrutinized you both quickly, not missing how you frowned upon the first bite of your breakfast. Then he gave Neil a quick pat on the back:

“Good to see you, mate” he perched on the windowsill for the lack of any other furniture “I was hoping you’d at least come to say hi” he gave you both a knowing glance.

Cursing your own inability to say no to Neil, you grudgingly finished the eggs and took another sip of the lukewarm coffee. Next time, food first, then kissing. No matter how irresistible the bastard might be.

“I was planning to, only…” the bastard in question shrugged before glancing at you shortly.

“Oh, I know. Priorities and all that” Ives smirked upon your deepening blush “I get it, believe me. Plus, seeing how often Y/N is glued to her phone, I reckon you two are doing good” he winked.

Sensing Neil’s growing discomfort, you shot back:

“Don’t talk about me as though I wasn’t here” it was hard to look threatening when staring at someone like Ives, but you did your best.

“Or?” he arched his eyebrow amusedly.

“I’ll shoot you”

The sudden tense silence got interrupted by Neil breaking into a laugh, collapsing against you. So much for pretending you could keep away from each other. Once he calmed down, he rested his head on your shoulder and said:

“And that’s why I like you”

You did not know it was possible to blush even more. And yet. Even though what he said was hardly a surprise, he never mentioned anything like that with others present. Before you could come up with any response, Ives commented:

“Aren’t you two cute, eh?”

Lord give me strength…  

“Ives” you warned, reaching for the gun you always kept in the drawer by the bed.

He laughed and raised his hands in defence.

“Okay, I’ll stop now” he glanced at Neil, who was comfortable enough, still leaning on you “Has he given you any more clues?”

You relaxed once the conversation steered onto more professional tracks.

“Not really. I ran the analysis on the gold bar he sent, and well, there’s literally nothing concrete there” Neil shrugged, “But I think it has something to do with the plutonium piece that went missing back in Kiev” he added.

“Is that part of the Algorithm?” you asked.

The topic has not really come up since your first conversation with TP in Boston, but from the information you got from Neil and others in the organisation, it seemed like the pieces were set in motion. In the Kiev Opera, another part of the compound has been lost. Maybe its purpose was to resurface in Tallinn so that you could take over.

“Yeah” Neil confirmed your suspicions with a curt nod.

“How… how do you know about this?” it was Ives’ turn to be confused, looking at you with palpable shock in his eyes.

Right… Sometimes it was hard to keep track of who knew what and why. And that was one of such moments. Straightening your back, you explained:

“TP told me. Apparently, I’ll have a role to play hence why I’m being dragged into this” glancing at Neil, who all of sudden looked rather sombre, you added, “Not only because of this idiot” giving in to the temptation, you ruffled his hair.

“…thanks” pouting, Neil moved away.

“Welcome” 

*** You have left the apartment and quickly checked the maps again. Neil set your meeting for a rather obscure park square in the downtown area of the city since that was where he was supposed to meet TP later. At first, you wanted to refuse, to tell him that it was risky to go for a walk with the boss nearby. But then, you knew there was not much point in saying no to something that tempting. It was enough that you might not be able to spend time together at all the next few days.

Just when you were sure you have gotten lost in the greyness of the apartment blocks and identical streets, you spotted him waiting on the bench. The icy wind was ruffling his hair as Neil stared at the pavement, unaware of your attention. You smiled at the sight of his brown and green outfit and those strange shoes; you have seen the brogues before in Oslo. Now that was something worth a call out later. Ending the scrutiny, you approached him and, as a means of greeting, brushed the hair away from his forehead. That worked, as it always did. The blue eyes snapped up to meet yours:

“Hello” you offered him a small smile.

“Tere, kallis” the grin combined with the strange words he uttered made you frown.

“I hope that was something appropriate”

He took your hand in his and pulled you down onto his lap. The happy sparks in his eyes were almost enough to make you ignore the cold and the embarrassment of the situation.

“I thought you said we’re going for a walk” forcing a stern tone was difficult with how Neil gently cupped your flushed cheek.

“That we are. But first, I wanted to get you up close and personal” he brushed his nose against yours tenderly.

“I see…” with the corner of your eye you could see an older woman observing you from the nearby bench.

With a start, you realised how very much alike a couple you must look to any passerby. Sitting on Neil’s lap, with his arm securing you around the waist and your faces inches away, there were no questions about the nature of your relationship. But, somehow, that was okay. A stronger gust of wind made you shiver, which he noticed straight away and pulled you even closer, your lips nearly touching. The blue of his irises and the depth of focus in them made you gasp. It was always like this with him, as though you were the only person in the universe that mattered.

“We’ll get going now, only…” Neil met your gaze with a silent question.

You nodded. He could do anything he wanted anyway. He met your lips in a slow kiss, relishing in the feeling for at least half a minute. You placed your hand on the back of his neck to bring him a little closer, suddenly grateful for the position he put you in. Then, just as the kiss threatened to get more heated, Neil broke the contact and leaned back, taking in your dazed expression. He always knew how to get to you.

“Now we can go” he smirked, and you had no choice but to slide off his lap.

As soon as you were both standing, Neil grabbed your hand again and intertwined your fingers. As usual. It did seem like neither of you wanted to pretend today, and instead letting yourselves explore the ‘not-quite relationship’ you got into. For once, the voices in your head were silent, seemingly agreeing to the new developments. You did wonder how long that was bound to last.

“Ives says hi, by the way,” you broke the silence, looking around the cityscape.

This part of Tallinn certainly was not as picturesque as the city centre, but it had to do. After all, your sole focus was Neil. Not much else mattered when you were together. If that did not confirm your feelings, then god knows what did. Sighing, you turned to look at the man in question.

“You told him we’re meeting up?” he asked with a slight crease between his eyebrows.

Confusion, then.

“No. I just said that I’m going out for a walk, and he told me to say hi to you” laughing at the idiocy of the moment you brushed your thumb over his knuckles.

In response, you got the signature Neil grin that was the beginning of your downfall all those months previously. Despite the absolute horror you felt during the initial conversation with Ives, now it was somehow less terrifying.

“Ah, I see” his tongue clicked thoughtfully, only making you laugh harder.

It was difficult to get the next sentence out.

“He also added that he’s surprised he’s not yet caught you sneaking out of my room at night”

The small snorting sound Neil let out made you want to kiss him right there, in the middle of the busy street.

“Why do I feel like he wants it to happen” he glanced at you quickly with an amused expression.

“Maybe it’s his thing” you retorted, savoring the laugh it prompted from your companion.

After that first morning in the safehouse, you have both decided to try and keep away from any rash actions or decisions while in Estonia. You certainly had enough of interruptions, and with the team sharing the space, it was all too precarious. Hence you have been meeting up outside, for strolls or lunch, talking about everything and nothing. Only now, that TP was around, it was bound to change, and you expected that this might be the last of those stolen moments.

“I’m sorry that we had to meet around here today” Neil interrupted your slightly melancholic thoughts “I wanted to take you out somewhere again, but he called, and I think it will be on soon” he lowered his voice to a slightly conspicuous tone, making you smile.

“It’s okay, at least that means I’ll know why the fuck am I even here” shrugging, you looked around at the shops you have passed by.

“For me?” Neil batted his eyelashes innocently while tightening his hold over your hand.

“Apart from that” this time you allowed him honesty “Don’t you ever get tired though? Of me?” the self-sabotaging voice contributed a question.

It was too late to take it back. But the way Neil looked at you then, with disbelief and fondness, was enough to excuse the moment on insecurity.

He stopped walking, making you freeze despite the streams of people going in both directions. You were like an island amidst a fast-flowing river. Neil forced you to meet his gaze by tilting your chin upwards. There was nothing playful in his eyes, just sincerity and love. And determination.

“Do you need me to remind you why that’s impossible?” you did not know when did his voice become so husky.

“Maybe” biting your lip, you searched his face, fascinated and curious.

Neil glanced at the teeth nibbling on your lower lip, and his tongue darted out, seemingly on reflex. Oh. When his eyes met yours again, you could see a hint of a new emotion there. He was hesitating for approximately 10 seconds before he started leading you again with purpose. Before you could ask a single question, he turned sharply into a non-descript alley between two crumbling buildings. It was empty save for a few pieces of trash lying around and a rusted door at the other end, with a metal padlock and a heavy chain. But your quick scan of the environment got interrupted by Neil wrapping his arm around your waist and pushing you at one of the walls. Just before your head could hit the bricks, he cradled the back of it, providing a safeguard. Ever so thoughtful. Wide-eyed, you glanced up at him to gauge the intention. The darkness and resolve you found were enough of an indicator.

“The walk will have to wait” he spoke before crashing his lips against yours.

The instinct kicked in instantaneously, making you respond by bringing him closer with your hand taking hold of his tie. Kissing Neil was like a fix for an addiction you did not want to fight against. No matter how urgent it was, you could always find a tempo that suited you both, neither fighting for dominance. It was like a dance where both were willing to lead and follow. Neil bit into your lower lip, drawing blood, tinting the kiss with that coppery taste. Fuck. You gasped into his mouth, shivering when his tongue ran along the split, licking off the droplets. It was enough to make you want more. As a payback, you caught his upper lip with your teeth, tugging at it lightly to remind him of the potential. But only when you pulled on his tie sharply, making Neil almost collapse against you, he broke the kiss with a groan. His eyes were hazed with lust, making you lightheaded the more you kept on gazing. The bloody shade of red on his lips made your pulse quicken. You still kept the hold on his patterned tie, making sure he was within your reach. His tongue darted out and licked off the remains of blood. That was a good cue to sober up. You released his tie and placed your hand over his heart, relishing in the way he was looking at you, as though you were a sight he could never have enough of.

“Huh…” you broke the silence and glanced at the entryway to the alley.

Thankfully no spectators.

“Is this all you’re going to say?” Neil’s perplexed facial expression made you laugh.

Sometimes it was fascinating to see him that disoriented after a kiss. Because it was a clear sign that not only you were affected by everything that transpired. Another reason to believe that maybe the feeling was mutual. Calming down, you started toying with his shirt collar. Even though heated kisses in dirty alleys were never your kind of thing, with Neil that too was exciting. And something you wanted to repeat.

“I mean… this is rather nice” you met his confused gaze and added, “Being with you like this”

Coherence for more complex sentences was nowhere to be found.

“I’m glad because I wanted that last hour of normalcy before we go back to the usual” Neil staggered over the sentence as well, making your heart stumble with fondness.

Pouring the feeling into your gaze, you grinned at him, running your hands over his shirt and lapels. You knew exactly what he meant. But still, with tongue poking out, you noticed:

“That sentence didn’t make sense, and yet I agree” the way his eyes darted onto your lips was enough to cause a resurgence amidst the butterflies.

Neil leaned in again, eager for another kiss. But you had other ideas, struck with the courage to tease him a little. You dropped your head and kicked him in the foot lightly. Just enough to bring his attention onto the subject of your scrutiny.

“The hell are those shoes though” you smirked upon his utterly lost gaze.

“What? You don’t like them?” the slight pout only made your grin wider.

With the hair in disarray, reddened cheeks, and pink lips, he was more than a sight to behold. And all that because of you. Wow.

“They look a little like you wanted to channel Pennywise or something” you laughed at his blank stare “Remind me to go through your wardrobe one day because you’re selling yourself short with those fashion choices” to emphasize the point you tugged on his tie again and frowned.

But it seemed like Neil managed to recover enough. He placed both of his hands on the wall, blocking your way out. The well-known smirk came back too. You had a feeling that you were about to lose this one battle.

“And yet here you are” he practically purred with a hungry look in his eyes.

You swallowed. Whenever he got like this, showing how much he wanted you, it was hard to think. Raking your head for a response, you settled on honesty again.

“That’s because I admire your soul” eyeing him intently, you added “And hair”

You tugged on the golden strands, making him whine in frustration. Good.

“And eyes” he met your gaze purposefully, a hint of a knowing smile on his face.

Of course, he’d know.

“Yeah” you raised your head.

A challenge he took without hesitation. Neil reached for the scarf wrapped around your neck and loosened it just enough to have access. Before you could do as much as exhale, his lips were on your neck and throat, attacking all the spots that were bound to make you gasp and search for something to hold on to. Cursing, you closed your eyes, letting yourself block everything that was not Neil and his touch. Soon his hands joined in with the exploration, brushing over your body, slipping inside the opened coat and underneath your blouse. Any resistance you might have had was slowly breaking. Blindly, you found his tie again and started to work on undoing the knot with shaking hands. Once you loosened it and undid the first three buttons, you slipped your hand underneath his shirt. You did not even know what you wanted to do. He was there, yours and in reach. That was enough to cause urgency. But any intent you might have had disappeared when Neil finished his study with a harsh bite over your collarbone.

“Jesus Christ…” you huffed and pulled him closer with a finger around his belt loop.

As his hips met yours, he raised his head and met your gaze shamelessly. Nothing but want and adoration. A sudden commotion on the street helped you remember the surroundings. Sighing, you pieced together a sentence:

“This is rather risky, don’t you think?” if anything, the unconscious way in which you bumped your hips against his again was a contradiction to the statement.

Your head was a mess. On one hand, wanting nothing but Neil, right here and now. On the other, doing anything like this in an alley spoke against the last bits of the reason you tried to preserve.

“Yes, but I quite enjoy the thrill” Neil brushed his hand over your stomach and smiled devilishly.

If your experience was anything to go by, and the way it felt when his crotch brushed over your hip, he too was rather invested. That thought gave you some needed courage to respond.

“You like being caught? Then I’m surprised you were so unsatisfied in Oslo” the cheeky smile and a quick touch of your hand over the front of his pants did it.

Neil swallowed hard and took additional few seconds to find words.

“More than being caught I like you. And everything we do... or could do” experimentally, he traced his finger along the line of your belt.

The goosebumps and rising tension within your core were good enough clues towards your feelings on the matter.

“Like what?” the breathlessness of your voice made you frown.

“Like this” in one swift motion, Neil undid the buckle.

Shit. That was enough to raise concern. You wanted him, urgently, but…

“Neil... do you seriously think fucking in an alley is a good idea?” you did know where that word came from, but it was pretty spot on.

“First of all, we’re not fucking. This isn’t that primal” for some reason the way he pronounced it only made matters worse, as did that smirk “Unless one day you feel like it and-” oh hell.

You placed one hand over his mouth, shutting him up, the other ventured into the pocket of your coat, where you always had the small hunting knife hidden.

“I’m going to stab you. Here they won’t find you for days” aiming for a threatening tone, you raised the hand from his mouth.

But not before he somehow managed to kiss your fingers. His eyes were dark, determined to make you break any internal rules you could have.

“Wow, you really have it bad for me” Neil whispered, getting ever closer, ignoring your threats.

Too lost in the strange conversation you have not even realised when he managed to unzip your jeans. Only once you felt his hand slipping between your thighs, you huffed with frustration. Thinking on reasons against letting him do it was getting increasingly harder.

“Neil” was the only warning you could manage.

All thoughts disappeared when he palmed you through the underwear. Searching for support, you put your hands on his shoulders.

“I just want to check if you’re still interested... still so eager,” the satisfied grin told you that it felt just as bad as you expected.

Like this, with him having direct access to check what was working for you, there was nowhere to hide. Once again, he managed to bring you to such a state with worrying ease. His whole body was pressing against yours, with one hand teasing you through the thin layer of clothing. The other has somehow managed to wrap around your throat. Not strong enough to apply pressure, but at the same time making you face him. And increasing the need you felt.

“You’re a bastard” the insult got muddled by the longing you could not hide from your gaze.

Neil caught it, grinning mischievously. The game was on.

“Well... it takes two and all that” he feigned nonchalance, arching an eyebrow.

You knew full well what he was implying. You could practically feel how drenched with arousal you were. Your underwear was wet to touch, thighs clenching around Neil’s hand. That was his cue to keep your legs parted by inserting his knee between them. Here we go again. You wanted him to do something. Anything. But he was resolved to keep you waiting, thinking about all the different ways to make the situation even more unbearable for you. To make you beg for whatever he was willing to give. Your futile attempt to grind on his thigh got stopped with a stronger grip around your throat and a glimpse of something darker in his eyes. You had enough.

“Why are you doing this?” the hoarse tone of your voice was rather shameful.

“Because I know that you actually enjoy it” Neil shrugged and met your gaze with playful sparks in the blue eyes.

You did not want to know how obvious it must have been for him. Then, he slowly stroked you there, earning a muffled curse.

“I would if you finished it for once” you breathed, letting the frustration take over.

The ache between your legs was nearly driving you over the edge now. It was too much. Neil was too close, and yet not close enough.

“I’m giving you food for thought, so to speak” he murmured.

His hand moved; thumb tentatively hooked around the hem of your panties. An offer to take it a step further any second now.

“That you are” you met his gaze defiantly.

If he was so determined to make you suffer, you might as well give him what he wanted.

“Have you been... dreaming about this?” Neil glanced down at where his fingers were getting closer to where you needed him most.

As though he needed to ask. Of course, you have thought about this scenario before. And many others too. After all, you had to somehow deal with those countless times when his pure existence frustrated you in every meaning of the word.

“Mhmm” you hummed, hoping that will be enough of a response.

The smirk was a reward.

“Good”

Unable to withstand the tension any longer, you kissed him hungrily, taking everything you could have. Soon enough, you were both gasping for breath, yet you did not want to let go. Biting, sucking, and nibbling on every part of his mouth available, he was your drug. With his hand still in a loose chokehold and the other so close to your pulsating core, Neil became the sole reason for your existence. Your knees buckled when he sharply tugged at your panties and touched you without the barrier of the undergarment. You broke the kiss and met his wild gaze, both shocked by the sheer pull between you. Only once he drew a finger between your folds, collecting some of the wetness, the moment got interrupted by Neil’s raspy chuckle.

“It’s quite flattering to see you like this and all because of me” you were not sure if you wanted to slap him or kiss him.

But then that was a usual thing with Neil.

“Just don’t get cocky…” it was hard to put together a string of words.

“Or?” his thumb touched your clit, and you hissed sharply “I already know how I’m making you feel”

To prove a point, he drew another gasp from you by starting a circular stimulation of the sensitive nub. You whimpered, suddenly aware of what a sight you must be for him. Utterly ruined because of kisses, touches, and words. You hated being at anyone’s mercy like this.

“Neil…” a weak plea made him meet your gaze “Please just…” helplessly, you tried to convey everything through the expression in your eyes.

He searched your face before letting go of your throat and instead cupping your cheek tenderly. The juxtaposition was enough to make your head spin.

“What do you want?” it was that question again.

Simple and yet not at all. Awaiting the response, Neil stopped all the movement, increasing your frustration and need. You knew that there was no way you could ever walk away from this as though nothing happened. You might as well have some relief.

“Help me before I lose my fucking mind” you breathed out, expecting the smug smile.

Instead, you got the most sickening grin you have ever seen on his face. But combined with the adoration in his eyes, you knew it was exactly what he wanted to hear from you.

“With pleasure” the words rolled off his tongue, and before you could prepare, he went back to stimulating your clit.

Your head almost slammed onto the wall behind when he picked up the pace. Even though you both knew that you hardly needed any additional preparation, Neil took his time, never taking his gaze off you. At the edges of your consciousness, you could feel the rising shame that was bound to consume you later. After all, this was the second time that you have asked him to help you like this. Surely, he would soon get tired of having to deal with your issues and never getting anything in return. But before you could follow that train of thought, Neil inserted a finger, and an unwanted cry rose in your throat.

“Jesus…” to stop yourself from being too vocal, you bit down harshly on your lip, bursting the barely sealed cut.

But Neil tilted your chin, meeting your gaze again.

“No need for that” he caught your lips in a short kiss “Don’t hold back”

Readjusting your hold on one of his shoulders, with the other hand you tugged on the tie you have messed up earlier. He took that as a cue to insert another digit. Too much.

“Christ, Neil” the breathless tone was a revelation even to you “You’re…” unable to finish the sentence, you moaned quietly.

Neil had no issues finding the perfect spot again, making you squirm and roll your hips, grinding down on that conveniently placed thigh. He thought of everything, it seemed. You did wonder how many times before he brought people to their downfall with those hands alone. But then, you would be lying if you would not admit that he had rather nice hands. And that you have not thought about this before Oslo.

“Glad it’s working, love” he commented upon a louder gasp from you.

For some reason, the nickname acted like a trigger. Feeling a surge of frustration, you bucked your hips against his, needing more.

“Don’t call me that” you spit the words out, relishing in the look of surprise in his eyes.

But he only needed a moment to shake it off before picking up the pace and curling his fingers inside you. Now it was close.

“What then?” Neil searched your eyes intently as though he was doing anything else but taking you apart with his two fingers and a thumb.

In response, you could only shudder, feeling your muscles tense in the anticipation of the near end.

“My love?” the proposition broke through the haze overwhelming your mind.

My god. Only with him, those two simple words could cause such an onslaught of feelings. There was something so achingly tender in his gaze that no matter the situation, your heart was set ablaze. He looked as though he was relieved to finally use those words. Suddenly, it was not just Neil lending you a helping hand in an hour of need. It was an act of love, further cementing your status as lovers. You were not sure whether it was that realization or what Neil has been doing to you that made the world explode before your eyes. Perhaps it was both. You only managed to breathe out a warning in the form of his name, but he understood.

“Look at me. I want to see what I did to you” he angled your chin again so you were forced to meet his gaze “So that I can remember this later” the husky whisper was the ultimate push over the edge.

Oh christ. You gripped his shoulder tightly and undid the tie, making it fall to the ground. Neil did not even notice, staring at you mesmerized. With the last bits of sanity, you took hold of his neck, bringing him close. The wave of pleasure made you tense up like a bowstring before you came with a shudder and a cry.

“Neil…” you got struck by the hope you saw in his eyes.

This time nothing was stopping you. No lips on yours to take over the words that were slowly choking you. The high he gave you took away all the inhibitions and worries. Neil was there, with you, a solid presence beneath your fingertips and an anchor to keep you from getting lost in your head. And that was enough.

“I love you” the three words were easy to utter for something you struggled to keep inside that long.

In response, Neil smiled and pressed his forehead against yours tenderly. The darkness in his eyes made way for pure happiness and conviction. Maybe this time it wasn’t a mistake.

“I know” he whispered and covered your lips in a sweet kiss.

Now that you were not holding back anything kissing Neil felt like absolution. You were never particularly religious, but he could be your eternal salvation, for the body and the soul. The only person you ever needed that much. 

Breaking the kiss with a sigh, Neil took a step back and retracted the hand that was still stroking your navel. You watched with a slight surprise as he glanced at a watch.

“Are you in a rush?” with cheeks burning, you took out a tissue and passed it to him.

He took it with a curt nod and cleaned his hand. As you observed him like that, with messed up hair, unbuttoned collar, and slightly flushed cheeks, the reality of the situation started dawning on you. Not only have you allowed Neil to finger you in a dirty alley, but also you have confessed your feelings in the heat of the moment. And yet, he was still there…

“Unfortunately, yes, the meeting is in ten, and I still have to get there” Neil picked up the tie from the ground and brushed off the dirt “Trust me, I’d love to continue with this…” carelessly he tied the knot and took a step closer again “But we should leave something for the future too” with playful sparks in his eyes he brushed the hair away from your eyes.

Oh my god.

“Can’t you for once… not do this” sighing heavily, you focused on readjusting the underwear and zipping up your pants.

Everything was better than looking into those blue eyes.

“Where would be the fun in that” Neil buckled your belt, just as quickly as he undid it previously “I must admit that after this, I’m curious to see how you’ll react once I do it properly one day… with my mouth and then…” he trailed off, fingers brushing over your stomach once again.

“Neil… don’t” using your own power, you brushed your hips over his “Or you won’t make it to that meeting” you glanced at his crotch knowingly.

“As tempting as that is… I’d rather not disappoint TP” with a final caress of your side, he took a step back again “Don’t worry about me though. I’ll deal with this later” he adjusted the trousers slightly “I’m used to it” the hint of a smile was enough to help you understand.

You gaped. It was hard to think straight again. Surely…not? Right?

“You- what? Because of me?” you stuttered, bewildered and perplexed.

“Yes, absolutely” Neil shrugged and attempted to smooth his hair “Pretty often, but then you’re quite the inspiration, my love” he winked, enjoying your sudden paralysis.

Now that sort of image was bound to keep you up at night. For some reason, you never thought that he would think about you like that, always assuming there were better fantasies to use in need. But maybe… maybe he had it just as bad as you did.

“I have to run” Neil kissed you on the cheek, bringing your mind back to the present moment.

“Does this… change anything?” you met his gaze, hoping he will catch on to the meaning.

“No, not at all” the soft smile contrasted the recent conversation tone “I’ll text you later”

“You better” you mirrored his smile, watching him disappear in the crowd.

Wow… Now that was an interesting walk. Sighing, you rested your head against the brick wall for a few minutes longer, trying to level your breathing.

*** You were not given much break from Neil that day. To clear your head, you went for a walk around the city centre, visiting curious shops, and spending time in a cosy café. Just anything that did not have to do with the blonde bastard was good enough to shut up your rebelling brain. After all, now he knew everything, and that was a dangerous situation. You did your best to ignore your phone for most of the day however when it buzzed on your way back to the apartment it was hard to resist checking. He did text just as promised:

“Did you miss me?” and then “I’ll have some news for you all later”

Maybe things, in fact, have not changed…

“Maybe a little” smiling, you keyed in the code to the door.

Inside, you quickly settled on the sofa with some indulgent crisps, about to tune into the team’s favourite Estonian soap ‘Õnne 13’, which you all watched every evening. It was terribly boring (especially when one did not understand a single word), and yet after a few days, you wanted nothing but to know what Alma will have for dinner that night. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

The latest dose of drama from the shithole called Morna got interrupted by your phone ringing. Neil, of course. Ignoring the offended stares from the other eight people in the room, you picked up the phone:

“Hey”

“Evening, my love” you could hear how happy he was to use those words.

Your heart summersaulted, making you exhale.

“I like the sound of that” grinning you walked out into the corridor to hide from the curious looks.

“Me too. Is everyone there with you?” jumping straight into the business was probably good for you both.

“Yeah. You’ve interrupted our shitty soap” at your adjective, a choir of outraged voices rose in the living room.

“My bad. Can you put me on the speaker? I could give you a run over the plan”

“Of course,” you motioned for everyone to gather around the table and put your phone in the middle “You’re on”

“Okay, so basically TP wants to take over the plutonium piece that is being transported through Tallinn in three days on its way to a nuclear depot in Italy. The point is not to let it get into Sator’s hands who thinks we’re cooperating with him”

“How will it be transported?” Ives propped his chin on his hand, listening intently.

“Reinforced truck with police escort front and back. Tracked via GPS” leaning back in the chair, you listened to Neil’s voice “Any unplanned stop or different turn and in come the reinforcements”

“What’s his plan then?”

“I believe he wants to take it out on the move with the use of a fire truck. Among others”

The hint of a smile in that sentence made you comment:

“So, you’re not the only crazy one around” earning a few amused grins from the people around, you briefly felt victorious.

Briefly.

“Something tells me you’re into that. Judging by what you let me do to you in that alley”

Fuck. A sharp gasp you let out made everyone turn to look at you. Gripping the edge of the table, you wanted nothing but to disappear. Or die. All the blood drained from your face as you stammered.

“Neil- you-” there was not enough air in the room “I-”

Wheeler shot you a worried look after you let out a small choking sound and spoke:

“Anyway…  why are we needed?” the professional tone made everyone turn their attention back to the mission.

You had to thank her later for saving your dignity. And life.

“To be on hand if things get dirty. I’ll send you the brief now it lists the details of his plan” Neil resumed the topic as though nothing happened “Tomorrow, I’ll call to let you know what exactly I need. That’s it for tonight, enjoy your evening”

Before anyone could make a move, you snatched your phone from the table and muttered:

“You’re dead”

You ended the call and stormed off to your room, slamming the doors. You could not believe his audacity to say something like that with everyone on the receiving end. The bastard ought to pay for that. Unable to calm down, with hands shaking violently and your head in absolute disarray, you grabbed the coat and made beeline for the exit out of the flat. It was pretty late for a solitary walk, but you hardly had anything to lose. Before you could make a swift exit, Ives’ stopped you with a hand on the arm. You met his gaze with impatience:

“So… how was the alley?” while he kept his face straight, the amused tone was there.

Bloody men.

“Fuck off” you shook off his hand and opened the door “I’m going out, and hopefully I’ll get killed. Don’t wait up”

Before you slammed the door in his face, you heard the parting words:

“Have fun”

The cold Estonian breeze was a welcomed sensation for your tired and thoroughly pissed off mind. You put up the hood of your coat and wandered off into the night.

*** Unfortunately, no one was willing to kill you. Around 1 am, you grudgingly made your way back to the apartment, relieved when no one was around to corner you. Once you were safe in your locked bedroom, you took out the phone for the first time in three hours. Unsurprisingly there were two missed calls and three texts from Neil, plus one message from Wheeler. She was checking whether you were still alive, which was a rather touching gesture, and so you replied to her first. Then, sighing heavily, you went through the texts from Neil:

“I’m sorry” then “But I wasn’t entirely wrong, was I?” and finally, “Are you alright?”

That son of a bitch…

“You’re so going to pay for this” you typed back and lied down on the bed. He was quick to reply, which meant he stayed up. Potentially waiting for you to reach out. Talking about confusing signals…

“I was hoping you’d say that” you groaned.

“After that disaster of a meeting, I went for a walk. Found a perfect spot for murder in cold-blood. You won’t even know what hit you”

Maybe that will do the job.

“You did. Only a lot earlier than you think”

It didn’t. Sighing, you cursed your inability to leave him on read.

“I’ve had enough of you today, g’night”

“I seriously doubt that, but good night, darling” and then “I hope your dreams will be as good as our little moment”

That surge of frustration was only made worse when you found a stray short blonde hair on your blouse while changing for bed. The idiot not only had your heart, but everything else too, it seemed.

[buckybeardreams]

Chapters: 1/11

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, James “Bucky” Barnes, Clint Barton, Harley Keener

Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Service Top, Dominant Bottom, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Romantic Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Meetings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sappy, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Drinking to Cope, Self-Worth Issues, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Steve Rogers, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Age Difference, Harley Keener is Tony Stark’s Biological Child, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Claiming, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Coming Untouched, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000

Series: Part 1 of Second Chances

Summary:

Steve is a soft Alpha and Tony is an in charge kind of Omega with no desire to find a mate. He doesn’t want to find his soulmate and when he does meet Steve he’s determined to stay away from him. 

That is until he realizes just how right they are for each other.

Words: 1622

The bar where Tony worked wasn’t exactly high end, but it wasn’t awful. He kinda liked his job, even if his boss was an asshole. His coworkers were great and he got free food on his break, so it wasn’t all bad. Tony was a server, Clint worked at the bar making drinks, and Bucky worked in the kitchen. It was a small place so it was usually just the three of them. 

Realistically, there should have been more employees. Obie was just cheap and refused to hire any more people than was strictly necessary to keep the place running, even if it would run much smoother with a bigger staff. They did have three part timers, twins that attended the local college and Thor, an older Norwegian guy who was always in good spirits, that filled in the gaps in the schedule. Tony was wiping up a table when Brock walked in and Clint whistled, calling Tony’s attention to him before pointing to the door.

“You’ve got a visitor, pretty boy.”

Tony glanced over at Brock and broke out into a grin. Brock smirked when the petite Omega ran up and wrapped his arms around his neck.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Tony accused, but he giggled when Brock scooped him off his feet and set him up on the bar.

Clint rolled his eyes at them.

“Get your ass off my bar,” Clint snapped. “Only paying customers are allowed to get all handsy on the bar.”

Brock rolled his eyes and pulled out a twenty dollar bill and slammed it down on the bar.

“Why don’t you grab me a beer while you’re at it, baby?” Brock smirked at Clint who just smirked back, not nearly as annoyed as he pretended he was.

Brock asked Tony how his shift’s been going and Tony proceeded to tell him about the asshole customer that kept trying to feel him up and how Clint had just about jumped the counter to chase him out of here. Bucky had beat him to it, leaving the kitchen to yell at them for being creeps and throw them out. Even with only one arm their cook could be downright terrifying when he wanted to be.

Tony cut off his recounting of how Bucky defended his honor and then Tony got all upset, because he could totally handle himself and he did not need an Alpha to swoop in and save him, when Clint set down Brock’s beer and pulled him in for a kiss. Brock didn’t stop him immediately, but he pulled back with a groan after a few moments.

“Sorry, angel, but I’m taken,” Brock said regretfully, pulling down his collar to show off a mark that definitely had not existed when he went out last night.

Tony’s eyes widened comically and Brock was too busy snickering at his expression to notice the flash of pain that flickered in Clint’s eyes. Clint swallowed and busied himself behind the bar, so he wouldn’t have to think about what that meant for him and Brock, or about the mark on his own neck that still haunted him when he saw it in the mirror.

“What?” Tony squawked. “I thought we were going to be bachelors forever.”

“Yeah, well, I guess forever has come to an end.”

“We made a pact!” Tony whined.

Brock rolled his eyes.

“We were eighteen, barely more than pups when we made that pact. Besides, you’d feel differently about it, too, if you met your soulmate. I saw him and I knew just like that that we were made for each other. So I dragged him into the bathroom and sucked him off and then I let him take me home. It sounds totally skanky, but I swear it was more romantic than it sounds.”

“Oh I’m sure,” Tony scoffed.

“You’re gonna love him, Tony.”

Tony huffed.

He definitely would not love whatever asshole Alpha had brainwashed his best friend, turning him into a knot loving, Alpha pleasing houseOmega.

“Whatever, just tell me how long I have to find a new roommate,” Tony grumbled, feeling bitter about the whole thing.

He knew that Brock being mated now would mean he would move in with his Alpha. That’s just how it worked. Brock gave him a guilty look.

“He’s coming over to help me move my stuff in the morning,” Brock admitted. “Don’t worry though. I’ll pay rent as many months as it takes until you find someone new. It’s just, well, you know how it is with soulmates. I don’t think I’d be able to sleep without him.”

“No, I don’t know, actually,” Tony snapped.

Of course he did know, and of course he didn’t really blame Brock for finding his soulmate. Tony couldn’t help but feel slighted though. This was a lot to take in and Tony was kinda offended that Brock would just show up and drop something like this on him. He knew that when it came to soulmates everything was sudden, but that didn’t make it easier on Tony.

“Tony, please, don’t be like that. I know you didn’t want this. I didn’t either. You know how much I hated Alphas, but then I met Sam and I don’t know… he’s amazing.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know how it goes. You saw him and felt compelled to drop to your knees and present for him and the moment he knotted and claimed you, you felt whole, like the piece inside of you that was missing suddenly was filled by your Alpha’s presence and bite and his knot and let’s not forget his life giving cum,” Tony said sarcastically. “Yeah, I’ve heard the stories.”

“It’s not like that Tony.”

“So he didn’t knot you and now you’re obsessed with him?”

Brock groaned.

“No, he did, but it’s not as bad as you make it sound. I’m  happy about this. Can’t you just be happy for me?” Brock pleaded.

Tony glared at the ground stubbornly.

“I have a table to wipe down.”

Brock looked hurt when Tony walked away and Clint gave him a sympathetic look.

“Don’t worry. He’ll come around. Just give him some time.”

Tony was upset when he got home and the light in their apartment was off. Sure, it was so late that it was practically morning, but he knew that wasn’t why the lights were off. This time he knew it was because his roommate, his  best friend , who had returned home from the war and came to live with him, wasn’t here.

Tony felt like crying.

He dropped his bag, kicked off his shoes and let his coat fall to the ground. He didn’t care enough to pick them up and put them away. He didn’t care about anything. He just felt numb. Well, he felt hurt and betrayed and jealous, even though he’d never admit it out loud, but he also sort of felt numb, like he was feeling so many emotions that he just couldn’t process any of them.

He headed straight for the bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter, not even bothering to grab a glass, choosing to just drink straight out of the bottle instead. He plopped down on the couch and proceeded to drink his pain away, but ironically found himself just wallowing in his misery.

Tony always said that he hated Alphas and never wanted one, but the truth was that he hated how much he wanted one. Tony didn’t want to be controlled and have his independence stolen from him. He was terrified that he’d find his soulmate and they’d turn out to be some sort of asshole Alpha that wanted him to drop his whole life and be some damn houseOmega.

So yeah, Tony was glad that he didn’t have an Alpha, but secretly he hoped he had a soulmate out there. He hoped that his mate hadn’t died before they met and that they wanted him just as much as Tony wanted them. He hoped that they would have a fairytale ending, like in the stories that he heard as a kid about the kind and gentle Alphas that saved the day and rescued their Omegas. He hoped they’d meet and fall in love at first sight the way soulmates were supposed to and rush off to mate, because they just couldn’t go another second without each other.

Tony wanted all of those things, but he also cringed just thinking about it. He was not a damsel in distress. He did not need some Alpha to come and save him. Tony was just fine on his own. He’d survived this long without an Alpha, though he had to admit he would miss snuggling up to Brock, and Clint on the few occasions that Brock dragged him home and fell into bed with him.

Tony hadn’t fucked either of them, but he had no qualms snuggling up to them while they were sweaty and cum was still leaking out of Clint. He also had no qualms with sleeping on the other side of the bed while they fucked, just so he wouldn’t have to be alone at night. As much as Tony wanted to be fine on his own, he really hated being alone. 

He didn’t  need  an Alpha, but he kinda wanted one. Wanted someone to hold onto, someone to cuddle with and be close to when the night fell and the darkness of his mind crept in like the shadows that surrounded them. Tony wished there was somebody there to pull him out of his mind as he spiraled, laying on the couch, an empty bottle on the ground. He was numb and yet he hurt so much. How was that even possible?

Ch 2

[its-five-o-clock]

Polka Dot Dress - Five Hargreeves x Plus Size Reader

Description: Sent by the Handler to hunt down Five, you struggle with self confidence. After a waitress sends a mean comment your way, a surprising visitor comes to your defense. 

Warnings: poor self confidence, food shaming, mentions of appearance

a/n: This may become part of a longer series, but it can be easily read as itself. This is also my first time writing any sort of fanfic in literal years, so be nice. We needed more plus size representation! As always, remember that you are beautiful and amazing just as you are! Both characters are 18 years old. 

Word Count: 1027

Nothing will ever break your self confidence like traveling back in time as a plus size woman. Yet, you found yourself continuing to do it.

It wasn’t as if anyone said anything about your size, at least not to your face, but it was hard not to take notice when your stomach jiggled as you squeezed into your uniform. Even harder when you saw the taut stomachs of the other girls simply slip into theirs.

You could brush that off though. You were barely inside the Commission anyways. As one of the Handler’s most prized recruits you were constantly at work. There was no end to the constant missions. Unfortunately, that also meant you were always struggling with a different beauty standard.

During a 1970s mission, you sat crying in the bathroom of a cult leader’s house because you couldn’t fit into the size 0 flare orange jeans one of the members had let you borrow.

In the early 1600s you almost passed out from the tightness of your bodice while chasing down a rogue princess.

It sucked. No matter what time you went to, some part of your body was wrong. You could never be comfortable.

This thought played on repeat in your mind as you grabbed a briefcase for your next mission. The Handler sent you on a special mission, one that was not necessarily authorized. You were to bring back Five Harvgreeves from the 1960s.

You knew of the man. You had even briefly spoken to him, though you don’t think he ever said anything back. This was not a trip you were looking forward to. Five’s reputation was extensive, he was known for his intelligence and craftiness.

That was not your main concern though. You had also been asked to wear a dress fitting of the times: a mid-thigh shift dress covered in polka dots. All you could think about was the cellulite down the back of your thighs. Sighing, you threw it over your head, not bothering to glance into the mirror before grabbing your briefcase and starting your travel back in time.

------

The back of your white heeled shoes came crashing down onto the pavement first. Your knees soon followed. No matter how long you had been time traveling, you were still unable to land steady on your feet. As you stood up and brushed the dirt off of your newly forming scrapes, you began to take in your surroundings.

It appeared that you had landed yourself right in an alleyway. It was dark and everything was gray apart from the bright green overflowing dumpsters lining the walls of the buildings to either side of you. The smell of them was beginning to tickle the back of your throat, so you quickly grabbed the briefcase and walked onto the street to prevent yourself from throwing up.

You slowly walked down the street, trying to get your bearings. The first thing catching your eye was a small diner. Pausing for a moment and trying to remember the last time you sat down to eat a meal, you decided to pop in for dinner. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself tucked into a booth in the back corner of the restaurant. You peered at the menu for a few minutes before deciding on a short stack of pancakes with a side of bacon.

Just in time it seemed, as the waitress appeared in front of you. Your eyes remained trained on the menu as you stated what you wanted. There was a pause as you waited to hear the scratch of a pencil on paper, but none came.

Looking up you were met with a sickly sweet smile. “Oh honey, perhaps you should go for a healthier option. I can get you some eggs with a side of steamed vegetables? It will be much better for a woman of your size,” the waitress spoke. It felt like a shard of ice had just impaled your heart. Everything stopped as you looked into her eyes. Words burned the back of your throat as you struggled to speak. Her presence made you feel small, like a child being reprimanded.

You were used to having people not like you. Heck, many people even hated you. It was part of your job. But it had been a long time since someone had outright insulted your weight. You felt transported back to middle school; if it weren’t for the feeling of the briefcase next to you, you would have thought you had actually traveled back to there.

Suddenly you were brought back from your thoughts from a second voice, “She’ll have the pancakes, and I’ll take a coffee. Black. And do me a favor, don’t let me ever hear you talk to her like that again.” The statement left no room for argument and you watched as the waitress nodded and scurried away.

With her now gone, you were left with a clear view of your target: Five Hargreeves.

“Still letting people treat you like trash I see,” he smirked as he slid into the seat across for you. You opened your mouth to speak, but he put a hand up to silence you. “I know she sent you. So let’s get to the point. I’ll let you walk away from here unharmed and you don’t come after me.”

You looked at him, trying to muster up enough confidence to seem unbothered, “I don’t think I can make that work.”

Five leaned forward, hands pressing into the table. “Listen up sweetheart,” he paused staring confidently, “the next time I see you, I’ll have to kill you. And I’d hate to hurt such a pretty thing.” His eyes trailed down your sitting figure, pausing briefly at the tops of your thighs.

Your mouth went dry. He winked at you, standing up just as his coffee arrived. He took a sip, eyes never leaving yours. Before turning to leave and disappearing just as quickly as he had arrived.

Your mind spun with questions: how did he find you, what were you going to do, and where was Five going? More importantly though, when did Five start calling you pretty? And when did you start finding Five hot?

[mrvdocks]

Plus One

It’s Joyce and Hopper’s wedding. A new member is added to the household, and things get real.

(chapter one)(two) 

It’s a Wednesday in February when he returns home and plops down onto the couch. The bar shifts just seemed to get worse. In the span of three minutes, he had to break up a fight, have the bouncer kick out a guy for harassing his manager, and clean a spill a drunk party group had made.

I’m not paid nearly enough for this, he thinks.

A sneeze breaks him from his misery. 

“Bless you.” He says with his eyes closed. They shoot open when he realizes you don’t sneeze like that. 

He sits up and looks at the moving thing under the pillow. His heart races as he hears some kind of breathing. 

Please no, he thinks. We just took care of the plumbing. 

He lifts the pillow carefully, expecting to see a pile of rats or mice or worse. Instead, he’s greeted by a sneezing dog. 

It’s a Scottish Terrier with big eyes that just seem to interrogate him as to why he interrupted his sneezefest. 

“Uhhhhh, where’d you come from?” He scans the apartment, seeing a dog bed at the corner of the lazy boy across from him. 

This had to be the work of one person only.

Steve calls out for you, hearing you run out from the bathroom in a hurry and a towel haphazardly wrapped around you. 

“What’s the emergency? Oh, I see you’ve met Mickey.” 

He’s speechless, looking at you like you’re out of your mind. “Mickey?”

“Yeah, they brought him in today and I felt really bad that they were taking him to the choky tomorrow. I had to save this poor baby. And who can say no to his little eyes?” You singsong the latter half of that sentence in a baby voice, kneeling to ruffle your fingers through Mickey’s fur.

“What if Tony finds out we have a dog? What do we say? We can’t keep him.”

You roll your eyes. “Relax, he’s quiet when he eats the jerky from Tom’s.”

“That’s my jerky!” Steve whines.

“Okay! I’ll get you extra then. Don’t be such a sourpuss.” 

Steve glances back to Mickey still staring at him. He puts out a cautious hand, Mickey getting close enough to sniff and then lick. 

At least it was nice to have another man in the house. 

He runs his hands through Mickey’s surprisingly soft coat, earning a low whimper from the pooch. Mickey lies on his side, clearly loving the scratches Steve is giving him. Steve catches himself smiling, suddenly forgetting the looming threat of eviction for a moment.

He’s wanted a dog since he was six, but his dad would never let him keep one. Not even a goldfish. He thinks maybe if he’d had a dog, he wouldn’t have turned out so cold in his teens. He just wanted to love something and have it love him back.

“Hmm, maybe you’re not so bad.” 

Mickey responds by kicking his tiny paws in the air, writhing on the couch.

Steve is so bewitched by the creature he doesn’t even notice when you come back into the room or even left for that matter.

“So, anything from that Sissy girl you were seeing?”

“No,” he pouts, “I mean I think she was scared off by this.” He gestures to himself.

“Oh my god, you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what? I just felt like there wasn’t any long term potential there.”

“You guys went on one date, and you didn’t even kiss! You blue balled her!”

“Okay first of all, who takes their date to their family member’s birthday party and expects a whole relationship to blossom from there? And second, when you’ve been single as long as I have, you just know what you want and what to expect.”

You snicker. “But you don’t know what you want, you have like, the worst standards.”

“Uh, I like to think they’re realistic.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I don’t think it’s fair everyone has to compare to Phoebe Cates.”

“Phoebe was a great product of her time, thank you very much. And, I mean what about Tessa Grey?”

“Tessa Gr - my co-worker?”

Steve nods adamantly. “I would date her. You know if she wasn’t - engaged.” 

“Alright we have to unpack that sometime but first why do you always say their names like some sort of serial killer?”

“Because,” he thinks, “they’re firsty-lastys. The same way I’m Steve….” 

“Oh please don’t say it.” You cover Mickey’s ears. 

“Steve “The Hair” Harrington!” 

You groan in response, bringing Mickey to rest on your chest while you put your feet up on Steve’s lap. 

“Sounds like someone’s jealous.” He mimics. 

“Oh, please. Okay, okay, let’s say for the sake of this being hypothetical, Tessa breaks off her engagement and she shows up here and says, ‘Oh my god, Steve Harrington I would love to have your babies, let’s get married! You can meet my family and eat my famous pasta, wahhhh!’” You flail your hands around for effect, seeing the amusement in his face.

His face screws up, “Geez, am I dating Wario now?” 

“That is exactly how she sounds! Plus, you would find something wrong with her and then you’d bail.”

“That is not true.”

“Oh but it is! It’s so true. In fact, anyone as grotesquely tall and hair-obsessed as you cannot be so picky.”

“I’m just trying to make sure I find the -”

“Don’t say it.”

“The one.” 

You groan, shoving your face into Mickey’s chest. 

“Oh yeah? I don’t see you bringing anyone home. Still not over Danny?”

Your mouth forms an O, you kick his thigh with the heel of your foot. 

“For your information, I have been seeing someone.”

This piques his interest. “Who and is he an escaped convict?”

“Okay,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “I haven’t talked to him but he left his number at the desk so who knows?”

“Hmm, I may be wrong, but I don’t think that was meant for you. You are a receptionist after all.”

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we? But I just have some stuff to take care of beforehand.”

He nods.

“Personal…..maintenance.” 

“Yup.” 

“Gotta mow the lawn.” You emphasize.

“No yeah, I got you the first time. But come on, let’s be honest here. You’re stalling.”

“For what?” 

“Jumping into the unknown. Danny was a huge part of your life so I get what it’s like to lose that connection.”

You laugh sarcastically. “Okay, grandpa are these your words of wisdom? I am totally over Danny. At this point, I can say screw Danny! I have all the time in the world to find someone else!“

You weren’t completely wrong. Danny had been with you since senior year of high school. You thought it would be like one of those fairy tales where the high school sweethearts end up living together in an amazing house surrounded by all these treasures and all that jazz. Nothing could tear you down.

And then junior year of college came and he slept with one of your college friends. You transferred soon after. It was your first relationship, and you just felt like a failure. 

You don’t view California so great anymore, instead choosing to uproot yourself and finding the first place you could in New York for cheap.

It worked out fine, you think. It led you to Steve and Robin. 

Even though you clowned him for it, you also wanted that special connection. Love that movies taught you but you’d learned the hard way they weren’t going to translate into real life the same way. 

“Uh-huh. I mean there’s no shame in it, I was the same way with Nancy.”

“I wasn’t moping around and wallowing in self-pity like you, though.”

“C’mon what was that whole period of just ‘Danny!'” He mimics your voice crying and eating out of an invisible tub of ice cream. 

You feign being offended, chucking the couch pillow to him as he catches it and smothers himself with it. 

“Your dad’s crazy. Yes, he is.” You pout to Mickey. 

Joyce & Jim’s Wedding

Chincoteague, Virginia

March 1-3rd 

“I remember during ‘84, Chief Hopper had a special visitor waiting for him in his office to talk to him about the disappearance of her boy. At the time she was just the town’s nut, but I bet no one would guess the wild ride these two would go on to end up here.” The man who Steve tells you was one of Hopper’s officers back home, toasts.

It sat poorly with the guests, including a somewhat already even more pissed off looking Hopper. He seems to get the idea and ends his toast blessing the couple in their late forties. 

Jonathan goes up next, greeting the crowd. He’s dressed impeccably, his hair somewhat slicked back and his ring very prominent when the light catches it.

“I would like to thank everyone who came out to help us celebrate. I’m very proud of my mom and at first, I was a little wary about her settling down with someone. Not because I was moody about it but because she’s done so well on her own taking care of me and my siblings. She’s always been both parents to me but Jim,” Jonathan raises his glass.

“I want to thank you for helping us years ago, for believing in us. For being patient with us and sticking with us through thick and thin. My mom lights up every day like a Christmas tree and I think that’s evidence enough for me to happily welcome you into the family. To my mom and Jim!”

“To Joyce and Jim!” The crowd toasts. 

The wedding was held in a gazebo near the beach on the East Coast, with Joyce getting married in a white tea-length dress with lacing decorating her collar down to her arms and Jim in a grey suit decorated with one of Joyce’s favorite flowers in his pocket. They’d both changed for the reception, Joyce into a red sheath dress and Jim into a black dress shirt and pants and a blazer matching Joyce’s dress. 

You were seated with Jonathan and Nancy and another pair of family friends, talking and catching up with the other nuptials. They both told you the craziest stories about Steve from high school to when they last saw him, all the while he sat mere inches from you and hid behind his hand when something particularly embarrassing came up. 

You’d often erupt in fruity laughter, hearing about the time Steve got his Scoops Ahoy uniform stuck in the fridge or when he’d played Dungeons and Dragons for the first time only to lose every time. 

“So, how long has this been going on?” Nancy queries, gesturing to you and Steve.

You glance at Steve, lost for words for a moment. “We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, friends,” Steve adds right after you.

“I’ve been rooming with him for the past two years since Robin left.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she concedes. “I always hear you call him Honey over the phone sometimes.”

Your eyes widen.  Curse your sarcastic nature.

“Oh no, god no,” You laugh nervously. “I just like to mess with him.”

You drown yourself out with the drink in front of you, leaving Steve to pick up the rest of the conversation.

“We got a dog.” Steve blurts out, trying to fill in for the painfully embarrassing silence.

Jonathan raises his brows, “Really?” 

“Yeah, only instead of being the dad of the group back then, I’m a dog dad now.” He reveals.

Nancy and Jonathan laugh, almost as if to help ease both of you back into not being awkward. 

“Hey, you guys heard Dustin’s getting married right?” Nancy pouts with her bottom lip drawn out. “He’s so old now.” 

“Yeah, Steve loves the little guy.” You blurt. Steve glances at you.

“Last I heard he was starting up some fund for kids with CCD in California,” Jonathan alleges.

“Oh yeah,” Nancy remembers. “The Palm Springs wedding.” 

The music begins playing for the guests and Nancy jumps, exclaiming that she loves this song and asks Jonathan to dance with her. They turn to you and Steve and urge you onto the dance floor, but you say you’ll be there in a second.

“What was that?” He whispers in a shrill tone.

“I panicked!” 

“They probably think we’re idiots now.” 

You cock your head down and glare at him. “These are your friends, Steve. They would never think that. It’s just been a while since you’ve all seen each other they probably understand.”

Steve bounces his leg in response. You put your hand on his thigh, stopping him. 

“Look, we are gonna go out onto that dance floor and we are going to find you the best damn lover you’ll ever have.”

He nods rapidly, hooked onto your every word. 

You lead him in when a couple leaves, guiding his hand to rest on your lower back and rest your left hand on the lapel of his suit. Your right-hand holds out for his, swaying until you can match the tempo of the music. 

“Okay, what about violet in glasses?” You suggest, feeling him turn you to catch a glimpse.

“Too bookish.” 

“What’s wrong with bookish?”

“I already have you, don’t I?”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, what about red with the pony?” 

“Where?” 

“Behind you, rotate.”

He rotates you to the left and makes a face. “Too mean.”

“What? She seems nice.”

“The red makes her seem aggressive.”

You sigh. “Okay, pink with the braid?”

He glances quickly to his right, “Yeah she’s cute.”

“I’ll go and spill my champagne on her and then you just swoop in and dry her off.” 

“Is there any way you can do this without assaulting someone?”

“It’s not assault, I’m just very hands-on with this.”

“That sounds like it’s textbook definition.”

“When have you picked up a textbook? Nevermind, you want to try this or not? I haven’t failed you yet.” 

He purses his lips, thinking back to the first wedding. 

“Don’t. I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

As the song ends you retreat to your table, grab your glass, and start sipping. Steve stays behind, watching you fake stumble and fall against the woman and drench her with the drink. She gasps as the cold beverage hits her, and Steve pulls out one of the fancy napkins from the table.

“Showtime.”

"You think she hates me now?” You say, drawing circles in the sand with your feet.

“You mean because a drunken guest dumped their drink on an expensive dress she was planning on returning?" 

You stare at him, unamused. 

"I appreciate the try. She just seemed….too hostile.”

“I get it, I mean a guy like you coming up to me and trying to pat my breasts down - I would want to leave too.” You chuckle to yourself.

Steve stands, smacking off the sand on his pants. He takes hold of your shoulders and leans you close to the waves as they crash against your ankle.

“Oh my god, Steve! You know I can’t swim.”

Steve is laughing like crazy, teasing you. He takes hold of your waist in a second, carrying you as far into the ocean as he can while you’re shrieking. 

He twirls you as you grip his hands tight, digging your nails into his skin and still screaming to be put down.

“Be careful what you wish for.” He says into your ear and drops you on your ass. The overwhelming cold and seaweed cover your body as you try to stand only to be wiped out by a wave. 

Steve is howling in hysterics, clapping like a seal.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna kill you!” You don’t sound too threatening, if anything your wet appearance was akin to that of a wet kitten just meowing in protest. 

Steve runs and dodges you, moving in a zig-zag pattern as you try your best to chase him through the water.

“You’ll never catch me!” He fronts. 

Anticipating him to move in a pattern, you wait till he moves to the left to start running to the right and knock him down against the sand with a hmph!

“Gotcha!” You exclaim, putting your hands on his chest and completely unaware of the position you’re in. 

You’re straddling him, legs on both sides and your face is inches away from his trying to catch your breath. He smells like salt and champagne.

He’s frozen in place too, one of his hands firmly on your lower back. 

Your eyes flicker from his to the rest of his face, focusing on the moles decorating his neck. He can smell your perfume still even through the saltwater. It inundates his senses, disorienting him momentarily. Your necklace dangles and touches his chin, taunting him. 

This is the moment you’ve been looking for, the one that the movies oh so love to display over and over again. Something in you tells you to do it, to just lean down and see if he tastes like you do. 

Instead, he pushes you to the side softly, catching his breath and patting your thigh. “I guess you got me.”

You nod, taking your dress by the ends of it to walk back onto dry land and leave him sitting there. You’d see him back at the hotel anyway.

@mochminnie​, @wolfish-willow​

[theparanormalperiodical]

31 Celebrity Ghost Stories You NEED To Read On Halloween Night (Or Any Time Of The Year, Screw The System)

*Puts on old professor glasses*

For generations we have been in awe of the celebrity.

*strokes beard*

For generations we have trodden their paths, followed their scents, and watched with wandering eyes exactly what they do - and all in the name of escapism.

Since the conception of humankind we have sought to understand what makes the rich and famous both rich and famous. Our philosophers decode mannerisms, our magazine editors calculate their every mistake, and the rest of us simply gaze up at the stars wondering how, why, and what we share in common with the glorified among us.

But you see-

*walks across the Ted Talk stage*

-they are just like us.

They make mistakes, they compare themselves to others, and yes, they even suck in their stomachs when trying on their new TopShop crop top and then shove it in the back of their sock drawer convinced their lower belly will always have too fat.

But even more than that, they have experiences with the paranormal.

*pulls up a chair and sits on it backwards cause for some reason people think it looks actually idk how people think it looks but whatever back to the imagery*

And so, on this Halloween night, we celebrate what brings us all together - no matter how much cash nor clout one has.

Shall we?

Miley Cyrus

During her 2009 Europe tour, Cyrus stayed in a flat in London - a flat that she claims was haunted.

"It was seriously so terrifying. It used to be an old bakery and they turned it into an apartment building, and I was having really crazy dreams and really scary things, and one night my little sister–it sounds crazy to tell you–but she was standing in the shower and all of a sudden I hear her scream.

I run in there and the water had somehow flipped to hot but it was still...It wasn’t like the water had just changed, the knob had turned but she hadn’t turned it and it was burning her.”

In the same bathroom Cyrus was convinced she saw a little boy sitting on the sink whilst she was showering. A series of other unexplained events took place until they delved into the family history of the bakery: it was passed down for generations from father to son. Cyrus believed she saw the last son to be left the bakery.

Cher

Turns out Cher doesn’t just believe in life after love but life after death, too.

The music legend herself is convinced that her late husband, Sonny, who died in 1998 is still making his presence known to her.

She claims his spirit has a habit of turning lights on to remind her he is there and often does this to her chandelier - even when there is no power.

“I love ghosts, I prefer ghosts to some people.”

Anna Nicole Smith

This late Playboy bunny was known for her bombshell sex appeal and scandalous career - but what about her forays into the supernatural?

"A ghost would crawl up my leg and have sex with me at an apartment a long time ago in Texas. I used to think it was my boyfriend, and one day I woke up and it wasn’t. It was, like, a spirit and it—woo! [miming a ghost flying from her bedsheets]—went up!

I was freaked out about it, but then I was, like, 'Well, you know what? He’s never hurt me and he just gave me some amazing sex so I have no problem.'"

When the interviewer asked her whether it was merely a dream Smith replied that it was happening every single night.

Kesha

Just like Smith, Kesha’s own experience with the paranormal is rather more sexual.

In her own words she went to the “bone zone” with a ghost.

"I don't know his name. He just started caressing me. It was a sexy time, it wasn't, like, sex."

Emma Stone

Back in 2014 Stone revealed on a late night talk show that the spirit of her grandfather often leaves quarters for her to find.

In fact, she claimed her family has a history of the small change - and its legacy clearly goes beyond the grave.

La Toya Jackson

Michael Jackson’s death is one of the most striking moments in modern history - but it turns out the King of Pop might also be the King of the Paranormal.

La Toya often claims she feels strong presences in the Jacksons’ childhood home and frequently shares about the supernatural activity coming from MJ’s old room. Many visitors, staff members, and family members have heard tap dancing coming from the room, even when they didn’t know who it used to belong to.

It was in this room that Michael would tap dance for two hours every sunday.

Susan Boyle

Boyle often recounts that she lost several members of her closest family within the span of a few short years and felt abandoned by her family. But in a 2011 interview she claimed she sees her mother’s spirit around her house, believing it to be a reminder from beyond the grave that she is not alone.

Megan Fox

"I was just in Mexico at my hotel and it was a bedroom, living room, bedroom...I had pre-ordered breakfast for 7:30, and at 7 a.m. I hear them come in with the table, I hear them pouring the coffee…

30 minutes later, at 7:30 I went in there, no table, no coffee, no food, no nothing, no one there. Door bell rings, I open the door, it's room service with my food...Brandy the nanny comes out later and says, 'Why did room service come at 7 when we told them to come at 7:30?' So you can't tell me I'm crazy, because two people heard it."

Ariana Grande

This paranormal enthusiast was visiting one of the gates of hell - Stull Cemetery - when she felt a sudden surge of negative energy around her. Flies suddenly appeared in the car and she smelt a strong odour of sulphur.

Both are symptoms of dark, demonic energy.

As they drove off she ‘apologised’ to the spirits for disturbing the peace and took a couple of pictures of the area before they left. She saw clear demonic faces in the image. When she tried to send it to her manager as proof of the strange goings on, the picture couldn’t be sent.

Why?

Because it was 666 megabytes.

Joan Rivers

This comedian’s old Manhattan apartment might be worth $28 million but it's far more famous for the supernatural entities within its walls than its price tag.

In one iconic episode of Celebrity Ghost Stories Rivers claims she even brought in a voodoo priestess to help a former resident, ‘Mr Spencer’, pass on.

Marilyn Manson

Just like Rivers, Marilyn Manson told his own paranormal experience on CGS. But his story had less spirits and more, you know, Satan.

Pressured by his peers into reading demonic incantations in a supposedly haunted basement, Manson claims he then heard demonic whispers around him asking if he believed in Satan.

Alyson Hannigan

Hannigan might be known for her Wiccan ways on the TV screen in Buffy The Vampire Slayer, but her encounters with the paranormal aren’t just captured by our favourite streaming services.

Back in 2003 Hannigan claimed she lived in a haunted house - but she believes the spirit is friendly.  

“My friend saw him first one night. She said, 'I don't mean to alarm you, but I just saw a man follow us out of the house.' “

"Later that night I saw this silhouette of a man standing in the bathroom doorway. I was like, 'Sweetie, what are you doing?' I thought it was [fiance] Alexis [Denisof]. But then I looked and Alexis was asleep next to me.”

Nicolas Cage

Yes, the most memed actor in Hollywood has faced a series of paranormal experiences, too. In 2007 Cage purchased one of the most haunted houses in America in a bid to get inspired to write the latest horror novel.

He bought the LaLaurie Mansion in New Orleans, a house belonging to one of the 19th century’s most infamous serial killers.

Many believe the slaves tortured by Delphine LaLaurie still haunt the mansion. Perhaps Cage heard the wails and moans of her victims, or maybe he felt the demonic presence rumoured to have taken part in a murder of a tenant in 1894?

Demi Lovato

Lovato often makes mention of her beliefs in the paranormal - especially when it comes to her haunted house in Texas. She claims a young girl named Emily haunts her home in the South, and has even mentioned that she was a childhood ‘friend’ when she was growing up.

But this tale has to be the most terrifying:

"One of my friends, Tucker, came over one time and he asked, 'So your house is haunted?' I said, 'Yeah, just watch. Something will happen. Something always happens.' We started to watch a movie when all of a sudden a laptop in my kitchen started to play a movie also. It was a black screen before, so it was a question of who turned it on and hit play.

And after that Tucker texted a friend saying, 'I think this house is haunted, a movie just turned on by itself,' and there was a 'glitch' in his phone that kept texting him back the word 'definitely' over and over again. That happened about 30 times."

Peter Jackson

Jackson might be known for putting mystical and magical creatures on the big screen, but he’s seen similar things in real life, too.

"One night I woke up and there was a figure in the room. She was really scary—her face was like a silent scream. She glided across the room and disappeared into the wall." He told Fran in the morning and she said, "'Was it the woman with a screaming face?’ We had never spoken about it. 

She had seen the same ghost two years earlier. So I do believe in some energy, a spirit or a soul..."

Kendrick Lamar

From one famous rapper to another:

Lamar told Home Grown Radio that he had a dream about Tupac Shakur - a dream he believed conveyed a message from beyond. In the dream Tupac told him “Keep doing what you doing, don’t let my music die.”

Keanu Reeves

He’s one of the internet’s favourite celebrities - but what isn’t so famous about this Matrix star is his paranormal experience from when he was living in NYC.

"I'm probably like six, seven years old, we'd come from Australia. Renata, [our] nanny, in the bedroom, my sister is asleep, she's sitting over there, I'm hanging out. There was a doorway and all of a sudden this jacket comes waving through the doorway, this empty jacket — there's no body, there's no legs, it's just there. And then it disappears..."

The nanny saw the exact same thing.

Adele

Ghost nuns are not only on-trend but also terrify-ing. Adele can testify to that. In 2012 the singer moved into a plush Sussex mansion which used to be a convent.

A couple creepy noises later and she hired around-the-clock security to protect her against the paranormal activity. Who knows what she might’ve seen in her new $6 million home?

Matthew McConaughey

McConaughey claims his Hollywood mansion was haunted by an unhappy female spirit by the name of Madame Blu.

"I was not even under the influence and she was there. She wasn't that happy, it didn't seem like she was going to be much fun to hang around or have in my house, so I went ahead and stood my ground. I opened the door and said 'You can move around all you want but I'm not going anywhere.'"

"For weeks everyone that came to the house said the same thing: 'There's someone down in that hall, there's somebody down in that hall.'"

Ryan Gosling

Most of the celebs that made this list whip out their charming ‘lil spooky story to pique interest in their latest career venture. Gosling’s story, however, is actually pretty f*cking scary.

One day, in his childhood home, he saw a ghost of a young boy.

"He just sat. And I knew from a very young age that he was a ghost, too. He scared me. I told my mother, but she couldn't see him. Nobody could. And I learned to live with that. I had to…

Then, a few years later, [my mother] thought she saw him, then almost right away my cousin saw him, and then my uncle. And we were outta there in fairly short order."

Laura Linney

Linney is one of Hollywood’s most cherished actresses - and even on the stage she has witnessed something from the other side.

She became a believer in the paranormal after working in the Belasco Theater on Broadway.

"I had forgotten this, and I was doing a play with Jane Alexander, and I turned to Jane Alexander, and I looked up to the upper balcony—there are two balconies there—and the upper balcony you can only get in from the outside, and those doors were locked; and I looked up, and there was a woman standing in the front row looking over with a blue dress and blonde hair.

I just thought, 'Well, hello!' I looked back at Jane, and I looked back up, and she was gone. I went to the house manager and I said, 'Joe, I think I saw a ghost.' And he went, 'male or female?' I said, 'female.' And he went, 'blue dress, blonde hair?'"

Megan Mullally

Another famous ghost that haunts a famous face features on this list. But this time the paranormal activity described by Mullally is certainly the most tragic.

She claims she lived in a house haunted by the spirit of Nicole Brown Simpson who was murdered in 1994. She believes that only when her husband watched the American Crime Story series about her death did the strange occurrences (most of which were odd and unexplained sounds) settle.

Kristen Stewart

Only last year our very own Bella Swan opened up not just about her own experiences with ghosts, but her own spiritual connection with other people.

“If I’m in a weird, small town, making a movie, and I’m in a strange apartment, I will literally be like, ‘No, please, I cannot deal. Anyone else, but it cannot be me.’ Who knows what ghosts are, but there is an energy that I’m really sensitive to. Not just with ghosts, but with people. People stain rooms all the time.”

Carrie Fisher

Carrie Fisher lived an extraordinary life. She was one of the few a-listers to openly discuss her struggles with mental health and drug use before it became so accepted in mainstream society. Unfortunately, these topics would haunt her in a rather more supernatural manner, too.

Following the overdose of a friend sleeping next to her in her mansion, Fisher claimed she would often feel their presence around her.

"Lights would go on and off, and I had this toy machine, that when you touched it would say, 'F*ck you! Eat sh*t! You’re an asshole!' And it would go off in the night, by itself, in my closet.”

She later hired an exorcist to cleanse the house of the spirit.

Halle Berry

Whilst filming Introducing Dorothy Dandridge, Berry would experience intense paranormal activity she believed was down to her dress.

A dress formerly owned by the woman titling the film.

"I'd come home and the housekeeper would say she'd heard my vanity chair moving upstairs in the bathroom. When the film was over, I desperately wanted to keep her dress, but it had to go. And then everything was fine."

Lady Gaga

Just like Kendrick Lamar, Lady Gaga has had her own dealings with the spirit of an icon. But instead of rap legend Tupac, she got the late fashion designer Alexander McQueen.

"Right after he died, I wrote 'Born This Way.' I think he's up in heaven with fashion strings in his hands, marionetting away, planning this whole thing…

I didn't even write the f*king song. He did!"

Melissa McCarthy

Comedian Melissa McCarthy revealed in 2016 that she believed in ghosts - and gave insight into where her beliefs came from.

"I grew up on a farm and I didn't have any real friends,

I have a very strong belief that people are out there, because I was certainly talking to someone in those barns. Otherwise I'm just crazy. I really strongly believe in ghosts."

Jessica Alba

In 2008, Alba told US Weekly about her own encounter with the paranormal when she was a child.

“I felt this pressure and I couldn’t get up, I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t do anything

Something definitely took the covers off me and I definitely couldn’t get off the bed, and then, once I did, I screamed, ran to my parents’ room and I don’t think I spent many nights in that house ever again.”

Jenna Bush Hager

The White House already has a reputation for its paranormal activity (Abe Lincoln often makes a reappearance during times of crisis) and this former first daughter has evidence to support such a claim.

"I was asleep, there was a fireplace in my room and all of a sudden I heard 1920's music coming out. I could feel it. I freaked out and ran into my sister's room. She was like, 'Please go back to sleep, this is ridiculous.'"

Lucy Liu

This Charlie’s Angel - like so many of the people included in this article - claims she had sexual relations with something supernatural.

“I felt everything. I climaxed. And then he floated away.”

Bella Thorne

"I was lying in bed when I saw a shadowy, silvery figure of an old woman creeping across my room, then it slipped into my closet…

I panicked and ran out of bed and swung open my closet door only to see she was in there. But she was gone. I was sure I had seen her ghost! It was really freaky."

Do you believe ‘em?

If you liked this post be sure to like, reblog, and hit the follow button! 

Got your own paranormal experience to share? Head on over to the peoplesparanormal.com to read real ghost stories and submit your own!

Happy Halloween, lads.

[jobean12-blog]

can I request a fallen angel!winter soldier fic :) reader finds WS wandering around Romania all by himself when it’s cold and even tho he can’t get sick she wants to help him. maybe he’s reluctant at first but she insists on him going back to her apartment and showering and helping him wash his hair. OH and maybe once he’s tried food for the first time he asks “can i have that thing where two people put their arms around each other and rest” and reader has to hold back tears and cuddles him🥰

Guardian Angel

Pairing: Winter Soldier x reader (Fallen Angel AU)

Word Count: 1,478

Summary: You’re enjoying the evening when you get a unexpected visitor. 

Author’s Note: I loved writing this and I hope you enjoy it too! It was also perfect for my wifeys birthday celebration writing challenge @littledarlinhavefaithinme HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAUTY! Be sure to wish her a happy one today (2/25) ❤❤❤ I hope you have the best day ever, love and hugs always! Thank you for reading! :) 

Warnings: fluffy goodness in the form of the WS and a dog :) 

It was rare to hear much other than the wildlife that surrounds your small cabin in the woods. The wilderness in Romania is vast and untouched other than the few homes that dot the landscape. The world is quiet here and you love it.

The night was clear and cold, the sky littered with a million stars shining like sparkling diamonds. You wrap your blanket around yourself tighter, snuggling up to Ghost and keeping your hands warm in his white fur. The dog’s snores are the loudest sound for miles.

You were so lost in the vision of the night sky you didn’t notice that Ghost had perked up his ears, deep brown eyes scanning the woods around the cabin. It wasn’t until you heard the light thumping of his tail along the porch swing that you realized someone was coming toward you.

Ghost gave no indication that he was frightened. In fact, he bounded off the porch to greet the man, tail up and wagging with vigor. You decided to watch the reaction of the man, having no feelings of unease yourself.

He drops to a knee, his face hidden behind long dark hair as he embraces Ghost. You start to walk toward them, steps slow and steady as you watch. As you get nearer you notice the man has something shiny that continuously catches the moonlight. You’re suddenly nervous. Is it a weapon? Will he hurt Ghost?

“Please. Don’t hurt him.” Your voice comes out smaller than you wanted, the endless wild swallowing the sound. The man stands, hands raised and that’s when you notice one is metal. Ghost sits at his heels, pawing him for more affection.

You move closer, “you have a metal arm.” It’s not a question, rather a statement of the obvious as you now stand only a few feet away. He nods his head, “you have a nice dog.” You giggle, your body relaxing as you smile, “he likes you.”

“Who are you?” His head tilts to the side slightly as he steps back. In the next second you feel a rush of wind as he unfurls a pair of white wings so large, they block out your view of the moon. You stumble backward, not out of fear, but complete awe.

Once again you state the obvious, “you have wings!” It’s his turn to laugh, “yes.” “But I don’t understand…how?” He hangs his head, his voice merely a whisper on the breeze as he explains, “I was an angel once, but I’ve been cast out. I was brainwashed. Made into a monster to do terrible things. I tried to tell them it wasn’t me. Nothing I did could convince them to trust me, so they banished me to Earth.”

You instinctively reach out for him, your hands grasping his as you take in the beauty of his wings. They hold the color of a pearl in sunlight, an iridescent shine to each feather as they seem to reflect every color of the rainbow. “So beautiful,” you murmur as you release his hands and reach up to run your fingers along the soft feathers.

He shudders and you pull away, “I’m sorry, I should has asked first.” He looks at you and for the first time you notice the blue of his eyes, more beautiful than any ocean, “it’s not that, it’s just…no one has touched me for so long.”

“Come inside. It’s warm, I have food…” you trail off, realizing you don’t even know if he can be cold or hungry. “I shouldn’t burden you; I’ll be fine on my own.” You ignore his protest, grabbing his metal hand and dragging him to the cabin, Ghost loping around your feet in excitement. “Yes, yes, he’s coming inside with us,” you laugh.

As he walks up to the porch, he tucks away his wings and you make your amazement known, the gasp leaving your lips loud in the silence of the night. “They are so beautiful; I wish you could leave them out.” You notice a light dusting of pink on his cheeks as he dips his head in thanks, “I don’t want to destroy everything in your house, they are quite large.” You smile in silent agreement and head inside.  

The light from within gives you a better look at his condition. His hair is messy and his skin dark with dirt. “I’m going to run you a bath so you can clean up,” you state, your tone leaving no room for negotiation. You turn to walk toward the bathroom, stopping mid step and looking over at him, “I never asked your name.”

“They called me the Winter Soldier, but I’m no longer a weapon to be used. You can just call me Winter.” Your eyes crinkle with a smile, “Ok, Winter, follow me.” He trails behind you, Ghost in tow and you set up the bath. You leave him to it and head to the kitchen to prepare some hot tea.

A half hour has gone by and you decide you should check on him. You gently knock at the door, hearing a quiet “come in,” from the other side. Winter is laid out in the bath, foamy bubbles covering most of his form as he seems to be relaxed.

“Can I wash your hair,” you blurt out before thinking. Your eyes lower at your boldness, afraid you may have insulted him. The light chuckle that dances on the air surprises you as you look up to see him really smile for the first time. His blue eyes are bright as he motions for you to come over and hands you the shampoo.

You pour some into your palms, rubbing them together to make it foam and begin to delicately massage his scalp. He closes his eyes, surrendering to the contentment your hands bring him. You take in the beauty of his face, hard lines outlining his soft lips and dark lashes, the ocean blue of his eyes hidden beneath.

You take your time, working the shampoo through his hair for several minutes before rinsing it. “There are towels right here and I left some of my dad’s old clothing, so you have something clean to wear.” “Thank you, y/n.”

You turn to leave, stopping dead in your tracks and whirling around, “how do you know my name? I never told you.”  His eyes are light with mischief, “Ghost told me.” Your own eyes widen before a small smile plays at your lips, “he better not spill anything else!”

You can hear Winter’s chuckle all the way to the kitchen as Ghost gives you his best puppy dog eyes, “don’t look at me like that, you! You better not give away any other secrets!” He trots over to you, nudging your hand with his nose and leaning his body against your legs. “Oh, I know, I know, I love you too.”

“He’s a very good dog.” You jump at the sound of Winter’s voice not realizing he had been standing in the doorway. With a hand to your heart you reply, “he is and don’t sneak up on me like that!” You motion for him to sit at the small wooden table in the kitchen, bringing over tea and some cookies you had made.

“I’m not sure if you even eat but I thought if you were going to eat anything, a cookie is definitely a good choice.” He picks one up in his large hand, eyes on you as he takes a bite. The satisfied groan he makes causing you to squeal in happiness. “Oh, I’m so happy you like it!” He finishes the cookie and asks for another as you both sip tea and talk. He focuses on you and what brought you here, wanting to know all about your life.

You talk for many hours, the sun peaking over the nearby mountains as the dark blue of the sky starts to give way to orange and pink. “You’re tired” he states, as you look at him through droopy lids. “I am, very,” you say, half yawning. “Maybe we can do that thing where two people put their arms around each other and rest?”

You’re at a loss for words, the realization that he may not know what a hug or a cuddle is hitting you hard. You try and hold back the tears threatening to spill as you lead him to your couch, pulling him down to sit. You lift his arm and put it around you, leaning against his chest as your own arms circle his waist.

He rests his chin on your head, his other arm pulling you closer as you both stare out the large floor to ceiling windows that overlook the mountains. It’s a spectacular sunrise. Made even more so by the fact that you’re cradled in the arms of an angel.

@book-dragon-13 @chuuulip @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @jewelofwinter @jewels2876 @jhangelface0523 @loricameback @littleredstarfish @marvelgirl7 @mushyjellybeans @marvelandotherfandomimagines @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @sebastiansloserclub

[lu-undy]

Sniper is a lone man, talks very little even asa kid. When we gets hurt he doesn't say anything, he doesnt whine, he doesn't want to be a bother. But his back hurts a lot. Sniper (tries to) ignores the pain as always, but Spy notices. And he tries to convince Sniper to let him give him a massage because the pain is affecting his job. So yeah, just a massage, a professional one. But Spy's hands touch just the right places, and the ambience is amazing, and maybe that massage has a happy ending❤️🐑

Funny you mention that! I have already written it in one of my fics ^^ But here is something completely different from what I already wrote in the past, I hope you’ll enjoy it! :D

The tall man grumbled. 

He wished the windowsills were higher so that he didn't have to spend his day slouched that way. He sometimes would sit on a wooden crate but that would end up giving him a sore bottom. Everyday, for every battle, the choice was there: sore bottom or back pain?

That day, he had gone for back pain with a side of slight headache, the former causing the latter. 

Sniper took his shots, his jaw clenching and his shoulder contracting more than was necessary to compensate for the pain in his back. He reloaded and shot again. The cycles of reloads and shots spiralling for the entire duration of the match, along with his pain growing and his posture degrading.

After the battles, he went back to spawn and put his rifle in his locker. It needed a good clean but he just wanted a hot shower and a nap, or maybe just lying down for a while. He put his hand on his shoulder and tried massaging himself but of course, it was to no avail. A massage only works if one is completely resting while someone else did the job. 

Had he been back home, he would have asked his mother. But she was thousands of miles away and he knew that calling her wouldn't help. 

Sniper walked back through the base.

Nah, it wouldn't help. She would worry from far away and he didn't want to be a bother for anyone and especially not his dear mother. What about his father then? Nah, he would get told off for sure. 

"Told ya, gunman's no proper job, son. And you'll get hurt."

"Dad, it's only back pain…" 

"Does it hurt or not? It does! And is it because of shootin'? Yeah it is! So the point stands." 

He opened his van's door and shook his head as if to shake away his father's voice that echoed in the walls of his mind. This entire discussion had rolled in his head as if he had it for real. 

Sniper threw his hat and sleeveless jacket away before sinking on his couch. Oh it was an old, worn out thing that couldn't possibly be less comfortable. He wouldn't usually mind but he twisted his back left and right, trying to find a position that would hurt him the least. 

"Bugger…" 

He unbuttoned his polo shirt and slid a hand behind his back. It hurt… The pain growing stronger and weaker under the waves of his hand.

Knock, knock. 

He raised his eyes to the door. Sniper hadn't heard anyone come to the door, which immediately gave away the identity of his visitor. He rose from the couch and, his hand still behind his back, he opened the door. 

"Hey, Spy, what d'you want?" He asked. 

The Australian watched as his colleague's face went from his usual suave smile to something else, something between distress and rage.

"Bonjour first maybe? And I'm sorry to interrupt, I shall come back later." The French accent was strong, not too much, but thicker than usual.

"What do you think you're interruptin'?" Sniper asked, confused.

"Well, look at you! Your shirt is open, your hair is completely disorganised, you are not even wearing your hat or your glasses!" 

The tone of the Frenchman's voice had grown louder and louder as he spoke. By the end of his sentence, he sounded irritated. Sniper's eyes snapped wide. Why was Spy being so pissed off?

"W-wait, what?!"

The Frenchman sighed and lowered his head. 

"Nevermind, Sniper, nevermind. Forget it. Forget… me."

He turned on his heels and walked away, shoving his hands in his pockets angrily.

"Spy, wait!" 

The Frenchman turned to face him.

"Non, Sniper. I'm going back to my room. See you, maybe."

"Ugh, bugger…" 

As if his day wasn't bad enough, he had to give the wrong impression and piss off his only friend… Sniper grumbled and fell deep in thoughts. 

Need to apologise and tell him… 

The Australian went to the Frenchman's room and knocked. 

There was a moment before Spy opened.

"And you have the nerve to come to my door?" Spy asked.

"Spook, there was no one with me, I was alone! Can I come in and explain now, please!?" 

Spy lowered his head and opened his door wider, as if to invite Sniper in. He entered and the Frenchman shut the door after him.

"What the-?! You're the one expectin' someone!" Sniper exclaimed his arms extended towards the unusual object standing in the room. 

Spy had all the lights off apart from the flames of the fireplace and… some candles? Sniper looked around him. The Frenchman had put candles here and there and there was a gentle smell in the air… It smelled like a forest, fresh trees and leaves. But the most bizarre thing was the physiotherapy table there in the middle of it all.

"Indeed I was expecting someone. And he arrived." Spy answered, very calmly, with a smile.

"Well, as someone said, if I'm botherin' ya in the middle of somethin', I might as well leave…"

"Non." 

Spy stood between the Australian and the door. 

"You imbécile, I was waiting for you." 

"What?!" Sniper was utterly confused. "What the bloody hell's all this?!" 

"It's to relieve you. I do believe your back is killing you."

"How did-mh!?" Spy had put his index finger on his colleague's lips. 

"Had I gone to your van and just asked you to come, you would have said you were too tired and you would have refused. So I had to think of another way to make you come out of your den of a camper van." Spy explained with a smirk and Sniper's eyebrows shot up. 

"Now, don't make me get angry for real this time and go to my bathroom. You'll find a pair of shorts that I might have borrowed from your van. Put them on and come back here, lie down on the table."

Spy released his finger on his friend's lips and nodded his head towards his bathroom. Sniper thought he was hallucinating or dreaming. What the bloody hell was all that?!

He did obey though, in a brain-dead way. He went to the Frenchman's bathroom and found his old pair of grey short on the edge of the sink. He closed the door and slipped them on. When he came back, the Frenchman was waiting. He had removed his jacket and vest, his tie had gone too and he had opened the first few buttons of his shirt as well as rolled up his sleeves. 

Sniper looked at the physio bed and back at his colleague. Spy's eyes were riveted on the bed. He had noticed how prude his friend was and how he wrapped his arms around himself and hunched his back, as if it hid his bare chest and back. 

"Where did you ever find this…?" 

"I borrowed it from Medic."

"You nicked it from Medic?" 

"I intend to give it back. So it's a loan that he might not be completely aware of. Now, please, lay down." 

"Roight…" 

Sniper had gone too far to refuse. He lied on his stomach. 

"Bien, put your arms along your chest, that's it, very good. Now, my hands are a bit cold but they will warm up, bear with me for a while."

"Alroight…"

"Shush, you close your eyes and don't think about anything." 

"Spy?" 

"What did I just say, Bushman?"

"Can you lock yer door though…?" 

Spy sighed with a smile. 

"Fine." The Frenchman moved to the door and locked it. He came back and removed his socks. 

"Why the hell…?"

"And to think that you are the least sociable of us. Now you never stop talking…" Spy said. "But to answer you, I cannot proceed if my feet are not in contact with the ground." 

Sniper heard the noise of some liquid being squeezed between Spy's hands and then he felt them on his back. 

"When you massage someone, you are not just running your hands on someone's body. You are in a way taking the tension from that person, onto you, in your palms and your fingers. But all this strain, you have to throw it somewhere. I do believe it circulates through my body and I'm giving it away to the ground through my feet and the wooden floor." 

Spy's voice was soothing Sniper. 

"Also, I do hope you like the smell. I didn't have kangaroo and desert scented candles, but I thought that fresh forest would do."

"Spy… Your hands…" 

"They're getting warmer now with the friction." 

"No… They're… bloody… good…" 

Spy smiled. 

"Let me know where it hurts."

"Top, go all the way up."

Spy slid his hands left and right from his friend's spine, his feet anchored in the floor and his eyes closed. 

"Shoulder blades… please… and shoulders…"

"Fine." 

Spy took more oil in his hands and went for it. The Australian grunted and moaned under the Frenchman's efficient hands. He felt like some dough being rolled and kneaded. He had no idea Spy could be that skilled with his hands. Sniper was waving and rolling in his mind, his eyes closed, the smell of the candles and of the oil gently washing him from the inside. 

And it lasted a long time, in silence. Spy thought that after the racket of the battlefield, the solitary hunter that Sniper was would appreciate some peace and quiet.

"Spy…?"

"Hm?" 

"Talk…"

"What do you want me to say?" 

"Any… Thing… Just… Talk…" 

Spy's smile widened. His friend sounded so different. 

"Well, I can start by asking you if you don't mind turning on your back."

"Five… More… Minutes…"

Had Spy not been used to keeping his emotions for himself, he would have chuckled at least. 

"Fine." 

His hands traced circles and loops, his palms pressed, his fingers following closely. 

"Oooh… Spy… How…?" 

"Sshh… Just enjoy." He whispered. 

He kneaded his back slowly, paying attention to not neglect a single muscle. All of them were massaged and accounted for. Spy bent to Sniper's ear:

"I want to see your face now, mon beau." 

Sniper's eyes snapped open. He turned on his back and saw Spy upside down, bending above his head and smiling. 

"What's that mean?" The Australian asked. 

"What?" Spy put a bit of oil in the middle of his palm and rubbed his hands together. He put his hands on his friend's collarbones and massaged down. 

"Mon beau?" Sniper repeated with a twisted accent. 

As Spy pushed his hand down Sniper's chest, his back slowly bent down until his mouth ended up next to the Australian's ear. He whispered:

"Literally, my handsome one." 

Sniper's eyes popped wide open and his heart accelerated. His friend's hands on his naked chest didn't help and the Australian turned red as a brick. 

"Breathe slowly, I can feel your heart pounding." 

Spy's hands were working wonders on Sniper's chest and stomach, such that his entire body had no choice but to indeed relax. 

When the Frenchman finished with the torso, his fingers moved to the Australian's face. Sniper looked at him, still seeing him upside down, with questioning eyes. 

"Close your eyes." Spy whispered. 

"I-I can't." 

Their faces were a few inches apart. 

"Yes, you can, just trust me." 

Sniper took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He felt Spy's fingers on his chin, his cheeks, below his eyes, his temples and his brow. He repeated the motion for entire minutes without tiring, sometimes spending more time on Sniper's cheeks, next to his both hideous and attractive sideburns… 

Spy moved around the table and slowed the movements down. Sniper felt that something was going on. He opened his eyes. The Frenchman's face was above the Australian's. Their eyes locked. 

Sniper saw Spy's eyes. They were half-closed and blinked very slowly, the long dark eyelashes brushing the air like the wings of a butterfly. 

"Thank you." Sniper whispered. He didn't want to break the silence too hard. 

"It is my pleasure…" Spy brushed his friend's cheek down and stopped next to his mouth. 

"You're the weirdest bloke I've ever met. Stealin' this bed, puttin' on a show with the candles, the smell, and the comedy you played back at my van…"

"Qu'est-ce je ne ferais pas par amour?" 

[What wouldn't I do out of love?]

"What's that mean?" 

Spy ignored Sniper's question and his fingertips moved closer to his lips. The Australian smiled and lifted his hand to put it on top of the Frenchman's. 

"I'm sorry I can't say it in French but uh…"

"If you can't say it, make me understand it… Show me…"

Sniper's fingers laced between his friend's and his heart beat fast. He put his other hand behind the Frenchman's neck and pulled him in closer.

The Frenchman rolled his eyes up when Sniper's lips touched his. All he had wanted was to help the poor man who was too shy to ask for anything. But now the Australian was saying thanks, and maybe something else…?

[jinmindeulle]

of love and other poems | myg

word count: 3.2 k

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre: art gallery au, pianist/artist au, pianist!yoongi x artist!reader ∣ almost smut?, fluff

warnings: minor cursing

a/n: and with of love and other poems, i officially get started with my bts works! i have been waiting so long for this moment, especially because i love bts with my whole heart and they are my ultimate everything. although seokjin’s my bias, i had to get started with the bias wrecker. more things to come!!

happy reading! ♥

My hands were tinted with every colour of my palette. Most of my paintbrushes were used, spread over my dark wooden table, also painted with multiple colours and materials. Luckily, my floor was covered with a thousand plastic sheets that Taehyung had given me after seeing how messy my art room got every time I stepped inside it. That’s why I recently stopped trying to clean it. There’s no use when I literally have been spending my entire afternoons here.

“Could you book it, Tae? Are you sure that no one’s taking my place that day?”

“Relax, y/n” he chuckled, showing me the Seoul’s National Art Gallery’s website in his laptop “I have already booked yours and mine, and I checked twice. It’s going to be alright”

“You know that this is no joke, and I always get anxious over fucking everything!” I sighed, walking backwards some steps so that I could take a look at my last piece “What do you think? I’m planning to have this one at the entrance”

“So that’s the intro? It’s stunning, y/n” Tae smiled, displaying his boxy grin “You’ll graduate with honours! I’m so proud of you!” he hugged me tight, shaking our bodies with excitement.

“You too!” I giggled, hugging him back.

Although I was constantly worried about how well my art would do in every class, Taehyung was always there to reassure me and make sure that I was satisfied. Nearing our college graduation, however, my insecurities got worse and worse. Surrounded by talented people, including my best friend, I knew for a fact that I was going to have a hard time coming up with something creative and meaningful to display as my final exam. At the same time, we were not only in charge of our work, but also of booking our place at the Seoul’s National Art Gallery on the weekend that our delivery was due, of arranging our pieces and exhibiting them for the general public as if we already were the professional artists that we hoped to become after that damned exam. My anxiety levels were reaching their peaks as that day got closer, so Taehyung made sure to spend as much time with me as possible.

“Don’t you need to get back to your apartment? You had to finish your last piece too” I pouted.

“I can manage”

“Tae…” I whined “You know how much I appreciate and thank you for being here with me, but you need to focus on your exam too. Go home, I can deal with myself for a bit”

“It’s okay, really” he took my chin with one of his large hands and playfully shook my head “Jimin is practicing his routine for his own final exam and I-”

“Need silence to paint, I know” I interrupted him, chuckling “So you’ll stay the night, then?”

“Seems like you want to” he teasingly wiggled his eyebrows, earning an arm smack from me “Ouch!”

“Go order some pizza while I take a shower, dummy”

.

.

Although some say that taking a shower is a way of relaxing, I highly disagree.

Less than two days away from my final exposition, my head wouldn’t stop thinking and re-evaluating every aspect of my already finished pieces, going over every detail that could go wrong that day. I knew I had taken care of everything and anything, but it still felt like something was missing. My art was there, ready to take to the gallery and exhibit, I rehearsed and rehearsed what to say about each piece probably a thousand times and my outfit was already picked up, obviously by Tae. What else was there to complement my artwork?

As I dried my hair, going over the poem that was behind my paintings in my head, Taehyung’s deep, caramel voice came muffled through the bathroom’s door. He was singing that same old song that complimented his tone like no other. Enjoying the melody, I turned off the hair dryer and got started with my night-time skincare routine, softly humming along Tae’s voice.

It was then when it hit me.

“That’s what I fucking need!” I yelled, running out of the bathroom with half of my face covered in my green facemask.

Taehyung’s eyes went wide upon seeing me desperately going in circles around the coffee table, screaming nonsensical words and having the eleventh mental breakdown over the course of the afternoon. But as he was too used to my stupidity, he got up from the couch and stopped me on my tracks, putting his big hands on my shoulders. “Calm down, y/n, what’s wrong now?”

“I need music!” I panicked “My art gallery won’t be complete if I don’t fucking have live music to accompany the mood! It’ll be utterly horrible!” my eyes watered “How the fuck do I find a decent musician in less than 48 hours?!”

“God, y/n, I thought you were questioning your life choices again” he sighed, engulfing me in a comforting hug. I felt some tears go down my face, angry at myself for letting those dumb things get to my head as fast as they pop up. I embraced his waist, cuddling closer to his neck but trying not to stain his pale-blue linen shirt with my facemask. “I know someone that could help”

“You do?” I sobbed, dethatching my face from his collarbone and looking up at his bright orbs.

“He’s a wonderful pianist and has brilliant taste in music. I’ll call him tomorrow first thing in the morning”

“You’re amazing, Tae” I cried, going back to his tight hold “I don’t know what I would do without you”

“Me neither” he chuckled, kissing the top of my head.

.

.

“You’ll do like no other, honey bunch. Just breath in and out, calm yourself down and most importantly, enjoy. You’ve been working so hard for this day and you cannot let it go to waste. You’ll smash it”

Once again embraced in Taehyung’s arms, I breathed in his scent as an attempt to calm down my beating heart. No one had arrived yet, but I was already at my fifth mental breakdown. All of the hard work that I had non-stop been carrying out for the past four years was hanging by a thread today, and as my best friend said, I could not ruin it by being a dumb bundle of nerves. Just when I was finally keeping my heartbeat under control, Tae’s phone started buzzing inside his suit’s pocket.

“That must be my pianist friend” he muttered, taking a look at his iPhone screen. “Yep. He’s here already, let me go get him!”

“Okay” I sighed, straightening my dress as he jogged out of the room.

My art pieces were already hanging on the walls, telling the story that I had wanted them to tell for so long. Each one had their own meaning, their own reason to be. Unlike those first paintings of mine, these had a purpose and they were able to talk to the observer, but only if they closely paid attention to every detail.

“That’s spectacular”

Such unfamiliar voice took me out of my thoughts, making me turn around to find the face that matched it. And goddamnit. Dumbfounded, speechless, mouth dried. That pianist was indeed spectacular.

“Th-thank you” that was all I could say. Damn, y/n, get it together!

“Min Yoongi” he stretched his hand, and I awkwardly shook it, praying to whatever God was above us to just let my blushing cheeks go back to normal as soon as possible.

“y/n l/n”

“Taehyung told me” he smiled, shoving his hands inside his pockets and looking around the gallery “I meant it when I said they are incredible”

“I-I appreciate it” I tightly closed my eyes, breathing in and out to help my heart beat at normal pace once more “And thank you for coming on such a short notice” I opened them up, just to find his endearing face looking at me with a soft smile over his rosy lips “It was a last-minute thought and I really needed music for my exhibit”

“I had the day off, so no worries. I know how important music is and I just wanted to help. Plus, I owed Taehyung a favour”

“It means a lo-”

“y/n! Professor’s here with a bunch of people!” a frantic Taehyung came running into the room, interrupting my exchange with the ravishing pianist “Get into place, you dummy! And you too, hyung!” and immediately after screaming at us, he went back to his place as my gallery’s receptionist.

“Good luck, artist. I’ll do my best to reach your standards” and with that, he walked straight to the giant shiny piano that was laying right in front of my last, ‘outro’ piece, and smoothly ran his expert fingers over the keys.

[BGM: i need u, piano version]

I could not take my eyes off of his veiny hands the moment he got started with his fascinating art, making me instantly regret having Taehyung take care of my one a.m. requests.

“How stunning, Miss. y/n!”

.

.

I was nearly running out of energy when Taehyung informed me that the last visitor was out of the room. He hugged me so tightly that I thought I was about to pass out, but at that point I could not care less.

“I’m so proud of you, honey bunch!” he giggled, picking me up from the ground and squeezing the life out of me, as he always does “It was impressive. Everyone loved it! You should have heard how they complimented your pieces as they left the gallery!”

“Tae…” I answered with difficulty, trying to catch some air “You’re clutching… me too… tight!”

“Sorry!” he put me down, arranging some of the hairs that went out of my perfectly styled bun.

“Thank you Tae” I sighed with a content smile “You made this possible too. And I will be there for you next week just as you were here today. I love you” I kissed his cheek, making him get flustered just as I wanted him to. “Now go home. You need to rest”

“But-”

“Kim Taehyung!” I interrupted him “I’ll finish here. I want to stay for a bit on my own and then I’ll go home.”

“Fine” he pouted “But you text me when you get home, please. It’s too late for you to be walking on the streets all alone”

“M-hm” I nodded, watching him go backwards as he waved at me “See you, babes!”

“Be careful!”

“Yes, dad” I shook my head, giggling at his antics.

Once he was out of the room, I heavily sighed and glanced back to where my paintings where. I studied them once more, pretending as if I was looking at them for the first time. Maybe the story that I wanted them to tell could be something else when a different eye observed them. Art is relative, and so were interpretations.

“W.H. Auden?”

His deep, raspy voice startled me once again, but this time I didn’t have to turn around to see him. He was right by my side. I could perceive his calm breaths while taking in the sight of my ‘intro’ piece, his eyes sparkling with something close to admiration, to esteem, to wonder.

“How’d you know that?”

“I like poetry” he softly smiled, tearing his gaze away from the painting to fixate his eyes on my own “It’s ‘The More Loving One’, right?”

“Wow… that’s… that’s impressive” I bit my lip, astonished by the man’s capacity of interpreting my intentions in mere seconds “I thought that nobody was going to get it”

“I just like art in general” he shrugged. We fell in a comfortable silence, both of us immersed in our own thoughts. However, the pianist was quick to keep the conversation flowing once again. “Let me guess… Looking up at the stars, I know quite well… That, for all they care, I can go to hell… But on earth indifference is the least… We have to dread from man or beast” he recited, with no rush and honeyed deep voice. He gently took my wrist with his hand and slowly directed me towards my second painting. My heartbeat rapidly increased upon feeling his warm touch, and I thanked Taehyung for letting me wear comfortable heels, or else I was soon going to end up collapsing on the floor “How should we like it were stars to burn… With a passion for us we could not return?… If equal affection cannot be… Let the more loving one be me.”

When we reached the following set of paintings, I was, by this time, in Cloud 9. Despite this, I still needed him to stop his astounding display of knowledge about my favourite poet, because he was already becoming something else for me. So I took over “Admirer as I think I am… Of stars that do not give a damn… I cannot, now I see them, say… I missed one terribly all day”

“Were all stars to disappear or die… I should learn to look at an empty sky… And feel its total dark sublime… Though this might take me a little time” he finished for me, as we arrived to the last trio of paintings “As much as I worship Auden, I disagree” he muttered, observing my ‘outro’ painting. “Do you think that love is fleeting and impermanent?”

“It depends… He’s talking about unrequited love, though. That kind of love should be fleeting and impermanent” I looked at him, studying his gorgeous features. He pressed his lips together and his brows snapped together, returning my gaze.

“Is unrequited love less than the requited one?”

“Of course it is” I chuckled “You cannot expect someone to love you just because you love them. You need to get over them, even if it takes you your whole life”

“Still… do you love someone any less when they do not love you back?”

“Not really. But the difference lays in the fact that you won’t ever get that with the person who doesn’t love you. Imagine having to deal with that kind of indifference just because you adore them”

“Wouldn’t you rather your lover be indifferent towards you when the other possibility left is hating you?”

“Oh, c’mon! Does self-love apply here?”

“I don’t think you ever get to love yourself more than a person that makes you feel alive” he replied, his velvety voice becoming deeper and mesmerizing, his eyes never leaving mine “Do you love yourself more than your lover?” Yoongi murmured, getting closer. Our breaths were now blending together, making it difficult to distinguish which was his and which mine.

“I-I don’t…” I stuttered, feeling the intensity of his eyes “I don’t have a… lover” I finally muttered back, unable to tear my eyes off of his.

“Let’s fix that, then”

Yoongi’s mouth found mine in a heavy, hot kiss. His lips took over mine without much effort, slowly angling his face to deepen it. I was quick to let him in, feeling how his soft tongue gradually brushed my own. I took the initiative, pulling him by the neck to get him closer, as if that was even possible by now. His hands gently caressed my hips, securely taking place on my lower back. I tugged my mouth away from his, trying to catch some air, but he was shortly after chasing my lips to pepper light kisses over them.

“I need…” I breathlessly muttered in between kisses “to close… down”

“I’ll help you” he replied, giving me one last, sloppy peck. “I’ll take you home after”

.

.

I could hardly close the door as soon as we entered my apartment. My hand was struggling, trying to get inside the lock as Yoongi peppered wet kisses down my neck while caressing my waist from behind me. A few minutes went by, my mind getting cloudier. He must have realized, because he chuckled against my neck, taking my shaking hand with his and rapidly locking the door “All set”

I turned around, taking his cheeks with my hands and directing his lips to mine, parting them to get better access to his hot mouth. I started walking, slowly but surely taking him down the corridor and right into my room, loudly closing the door once inside.

.

.

“Do you still agree with Auden?” Yoongi whispered, softly caressing my arm.

“M-hm” I muttered, fluttering my eyes open, throwing my leg over his own and getting closer to his collarbone “It is always better to be the one who loves.”

“Would you be willing to love even then, y/n?”

“One does not choose when, how or who they love, Yoongi” I detached myself from his chest, supporting my weight with my arm as I looked at him “And I think it’s better to love rather than being at the receiving end without even acknowledging it. It hurts, yes, but the feeling…”

“Yet he emphasizes the fact that he can, and will get over them. Is his love as strong as he claims?”

“It can be the strongest feeling, of course. Still, you cannot hang in there just because you are unable control it”

“Have you noticed that in those last lines, he openly admits he hadn’t missed them when they were gone? Is that what love is about?”

“If they hurt you, maybe” I yawned, going back to the comfort of his touch “You won’t miss them, but you still love them. It’s easy, young man”

“Is love easy?”

“Can you please shut your stunning mouth for a second, please? You’re the loudest hook up I’ve ever had”

“You were the loud one some minutes ago” he chuckled, caressing my back, and taking my chin with his hand. Making me look up, he left a couple of short but soft, tender kisses over my swollen lips.  

“Goodnight, pianist”

“Goodnight, artist”

.

.

My phone woke me up from my slumber. Cold sheets met my hand, and I lifted my head from my pillow to take a look around my room.

He left.

I rejected whoever was calling me and got up from my bed, stretching out my limbs as I made my way to the living room. Empty.

Should have known that.

“It was just a hook up, y/n…” I murmured to myself, trying to get that in my head as fast as possible to avoid any kind of heartache. “He left as he shou-” I cut short my sentence when I noticed a scribbled piece of paper on my coffee table that wasn’t there the day before. I quickly took it, a smile plastered on my lips as soon as I started reading.

‘Last night I slept, and when I woke her kiss Still floated on my lips. For we had strayed Together in my dream, through some dim glade, Where the shy moonbeams scarce dared light our bliss. The air was dank with dew, between the trees, The hidden glow-worms kindled and were spent. Cheek pressed to cheek, the cool, the hot night-breeze Mingled our hair, our breath, and came and went, As sporting with our passion. Low and deep Spake in mine ear her voice: “And didst thou dream, This could be buried? This could be sleep? And love be thrall to death! Nay, whatso seem, Have faith, dear heart; this is the thing that is!” Thereon I woke, and on my lips her kiss.

Let’s meet again.

Min Yoongi’

in case you’re wondering, the poems featured here are ‘the more loving one’ by w.h. auden and ‘assurance’ by emma lazarus.

hope you enjoyed!