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sundaysundaes · 4 years

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Before Our Story Began

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 7.4k | College AU Summary: The popular new kid at your campus has this habit of raising his eyebrows when he flirts and you just realized that maybe you have a kink for it.

It has the same setting as my previous Mark Lee X Reader’s stories (Our First Time and Drunk Antics) but if you’re not into Mark (I’m not judging but what is wrong with you) you can just skip those two because this story can be read separately.

Before dating the socially-awkward, yet utterly adorable Mark Lee, you have had your fair share of relationships that are now reduced into the form of awkward friendships. Your last boyfriend was Lee Donghyuck—who also publicly known as Haechan—and that fact does not sit well with Mark, because well, they were the best of friends. They still are, but it feels like they’re walking on thin ice whenever you’re in the picture so you try your best to stay away from your ex just to make sure everything is all right with the three of you.

Which is quite weird, knowing how close you were with Haechan before.

It was weird in the beginning, but fate really did play a major role in your relationship. You were in your second year of college and you’d managed to pull yourself together by that time, though you hadn’t really made any real friends yet. You weren’t aware of Mark’s existence either at that point, though he probably had with him being your long-time secret admirer after all. You were too busy trying to adapt to the new college and dormitory life, as well as trying to keep your grades up, that you could barely spend some time socializing with people. Project partners and study buddies were really as far as you could go with the term of friendship during your first year.

Your relationship didn’t exactly start as friends with Lee Donghyuck. Even though he had made tons of friends since his orientation days in college, you were certainly not one of them. You didn’t even know he existed in your world, and neither did he. Younger than both you and Mark, Haechan shone like the sun almost in every aspect of his life and unlike you, people had surely noticed that because he was academically smart, physically good-looking, very social and adventurously funny. It didn’t take long before he became popular at your campus. So popular, in fact, that you heard chatters of his name when you walked down the campus’ hallway with your textbooks in your arms. You had only known his name but not his face, so you didn’t really feel nervous or overly excited like any other girls would’ve probably had when you accidentally sat next to him during public speaking class and saw that he had a silly note stuck on his back, pressed against his black hoodie.

“Hey,” you called, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough so the people around you wouldn’t notice. “You’ve got something on your back.”

The boy was young, and he had the smoothest golden skin you’d ever seen on a boy. You would probably kill to have his perfect sun-kissed skin. He had slightly chubby cheeks and a mop of dark brown hair with bangs falling over his eyes. He was slouching forward in his seat with his arms draped over his table, staring lifelessly at the board. His lower lip was jutting out in boredom and slight annoyance, reminding you of a five-year-old boy missing his favorite cartoon. He threw a glance to the side, looking at you with big, chocolate brown eyes, and his eyebrows raised in question.

“What?” He asked and you pointed to the back of his hoodie with your pen.

“I won’t judge if it’s the kind of thing you’re into,” you said, “but I don’t think placing a note behind your back with the words Spank Me, Mama, written on it is the best way to actually, you know, get it.”

He blushed and he blushed so hard that it made you think huh, he’s kinda cute, but you buried the thought right away. You had promised yourself to focus better that year. Falling head over heels for a fellow student on the first day of your new term was not the right way to do it.

“Right, thanks.” He struggled with the note, reaching behind his back as if his skin was on fire. You were about to help when he finally snatched the paper and read the words under his breath, eyes widening in shock.

“I assume that’s not your handwriting?” You were amused but tried your best not to tease him so much.

He did this pout that actually kind of fit his face, probably because he still had that baby face going on. Most of the guys you knew would look immensely disgusting if they pulled that kind of pout. Take your brother, Johnny, for example. Even the thought of him doing that already made you feel like punching your fist against a wall.

“I would weep myself to sleep if my handwriting was this bad,” he grumbled and you smiled secretly to yourself. He turned to you, an awkward grin painting his face. “Sorry, my friends are assholes. Do you happen to know a swamp nearby where I can dump dead bodies without being found out?”

You nod. “I know a place but it’s no longer free, though. They charge you, like, ten thousand won per body. Which is why I’m broke.”

His timid grin grew into a bright smile, probably feeling quite elated that somebody shared the same type of dumb humor as him. “I’m Lee Donghyuck.” He sneaked a hand under a table and you took it for a handshake, answering him with your name. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“Most welcome. You can save me back later when I have the words spank me, daddy, glued to my back.”

“So your friends are assholes too?”

“It’s what people have in common these days, I suppose.”

But when your professor spoke louder to make sure he didn’t any other noise in the room except his own, you had to cut your conversation short and only threw small grins at him every now and then.

When the class ended, you both parted ways with nothing more than a small wave of a hand and a casual, “Well, I guess, I’ll see you later.” You thought it would be too weird to get even friendlier than that, and he probably did too. You admitted that he was cute, but not cute enough for you to ditch your next class and make out with him in the nearest parking lot. You thought you were going to see him again soon anyway, probably the next week when the same class started.

And you were right, but you wished you weren’t because Donghyuck came back to your class the following week looking like a full-course meal.

Donghyuck probably had his hair cut short somewhere on the weekend and it looked absolutely fucking perfect on his head. His bangs were no longer hiding his eyes, and it was clear to you then that Donghyuck with his forehead seen, combined with those thick beautiful eyebrows and mesmerizing round eyes, were really something to behold.

He didn’t notice you were already in the class when he walked in, with his bag slinging on one shoulder. Some rowdy boys were shouting at the back of the room, “Haechan-ah, over here! Saved you a seat!” And Donghyuck grinned at them, waving his hand before he walked toward their seats and you thought Lee Donghyuck is Haechan?! That Haechan?! And mentally slapped yourself on the face when the flashback hit you. You had the chance to talk to one of the most popular boys in school and you talked about swamp and dead bodies.

Absolutely fucking perfect.

After you managed to collect yourself, you couldn’t hold back this urge to sneak a few glances to the back of the class, trying to catch a glimpse of that beautiful forehead of his—which you realized by then that you had some kind of a kink for it—without having him notice you.

But he did. He did notice every time you tried to secretly stare and he reciprocated each time with a smile, raising one of his eyebrows almost dangerously seductive at you and you thought goddamn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing I’ve seen in my twenty years of living I don’t know what is.

You offered your best effort to stay fucking calm despite everything that had been going on in your head, waving one hand at him with a small—hopefully not creepy—smile on your face. You immediately turned around right after, swallowing your breath, and tried not to vomit because your stomach felt like it was about to lurch out of your mouth. It wasn’t really an unpleasant feeling; it was just kind of new to you and you loathed the way your heart was slamming against your ribcages.

Okay, you mentally calmed yourself, get a hold of yourself. No need to panic. He’s just another cute boy, with a cute haircut, and a cute smirk, and a cute forehead and—

You really didn’t like where it was going.

When the class ended—and you didn’t learn a thing about it—you shoved your iPad back into your bag and let out the loudest sigh you had ever made in your sorry life.

“Bad day?”

Haechan’s voice was next to your ear and though you only jerked slightly on the outside, most of your soul had actually gone to heaven—or hell, from all those dirty thoughts you had about him during the last two hours of that lecture.

“Yeah,” you cooly replied. Thank God, your voice didn’t betray you. “My swamp is full again. I have to start looking for a new place.”

AM I SERIOUSLY TALKING ABOUT ANOTHER FUCKING SWAMP—

But Haechan was laughing about it, not too much but the amusement on his face was genuine. “It’s cute that you remember our previous conversation.”

“It’s cute that you do too.”

“Well, actually, that’s what I’ve been thinking about for the last week,” he told you with a smirk on his face. You dared to bet on your life that he was flirting with you and you were about to scream out of joy but you reminded yourself to play it cool.

“I don’t think it’s a conversation worth remembering,” you commented nonchalantly.

“Not if I had it with anyone else.”

You almost fell from your seat. “On second thought, it was a pretty interesting conversation, what with the—”

“Noona.” He suddenly leaned close, laying one hand on your desk to prop his weight. There was that smirk again—the one with his eyebrow raised. “I’m trying to flirt with you and ask you out on a date, if you haven’t noticed.”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears at that point. You had thought about it—about him asking you out—but your imagination did not do justice on how smooth and confident or how goddamn attractive he looked in real life. “Oh.”

“Oh.” He imitated, smirking a bit wider and you were dazed with how bright he shone. “So, can I take you out for lunch? Not anywhere close to swamps full of dead bodies, I swear.” Then after a small pause, he added, “Unless, that’s what you’re into.”

“Shut up,” you retorted, standing up and gathering all your belongings into your arms. “You’re paying.”

He laughed softly to himself, trailing after you with a cheeky grin on his face. “This swamp thing could be our thing, though.”

“Shut up.”

***

Haechan was not one to take it slow, you remember, which is way different from how Mark does things with you.

It wasn’t like Haechan was overly aggressive—as far as boys go, he was pretty normal about the whole dating and sex thing—but he really just head straight to the point whenever he had something in mind, whether it was by a sudden change of topic in your conversation, or acting it out directly with his body.

While Mark tends to plan things, Haechan just did everything out on a whim. You could be talking about science fiction movies at a cafe at one point, and ended up with having your clothes soaked with water by the next few hours because he suddenly felt like the day was too hot and jumping into the campus pool fully clothed was a good idea. You weren’t sure why you’d said yes to all of that when you just barely knew him but Haechan could be very persuasive. So dangerously so, that you would probably say yes to anything.

It was on your third date when he suddenly bent his head down and cut you in the middle of your sentence with a kiss. It was only a small peck, a quick pressing of his plump lips against yours, but it still managed to literally stop you from breathing for a good couple of seconds.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling away with his eyes still staring at your lips. “I was… distracted.”

You knew it was lust in his eyes and you were familiar with yourself enough to know that you usually preferred to have your first kiss after you knew the guy for a certain amount of time. But Haechan—the way he sometimes stared at your lips for a millisecond while you were talking, or hugged you for a few seconds too long before you parted ways—really made you feel special. Made you feel… wanted. And it had been a long time since someone made you feel that way.

So it really didn’t come too much of a surprise that when he dipped his head down to kiss you again, you responded with as much passion as he emitted. You didn’t care that both of you were still standing in the middle of your co-ed dorm’s hallway, though it was empty from how late it was. You had your fingers tangled in his hair as you tiptoed and leaned your entire weight to his body, making him inhale sharply and curl his fingers around the fabric of your dress.

“Again,” he breathed when you pulled away for a split second and immediately brought you back to him again. Haechan had one arm around your waist and another one holding your face, angling your head to the side so he could kiss you deeper.

Haechan was a good kisser—so frighteningly so that it made you feel conscious of how inexperienced you were compared to him. And with the way his hands were moving around your body, you could tell that things were going a bit too fast.

“Haechan—”

The hand that you laid on his chest to give you both some space, was brought over your head as he pressed your body against the door of your room. He kissed you harder, almost knocking your head against the wooden surface, and you could taste the flavor of the lollipop he had on his way back to your dorm. His scent was intoxicating in the best way possible, numbing your mind from thinking how this could probably end up in a bad decision.

“Haechan-ah, wait,” you gasped against his mouth, and when he did, pulling away from you for a few inches to catch his own breath, you noticed that even if you managed to stop him, you probably wouldn’t sound very convincing.

It was really fortunate that although Haechan was a man of passion, he still had the patience to make your consent his priority. “Too fast?” He asked, warm breath fanning against your lips and you really wanted to just close those few inches between you and be smothered with his kisses again.

So you did, and you could feel him smirking into the kiss. The way he slipped his tongue between your mouth made your knees buckle underneath your weight so you clutched onto him as if you were hanging to dear life. Haechan formed this low grunt at the back of his throat that made your skin tingle in delight, knowing that you had that kind of effect on him.

But really, something still didn’t feel right.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, noticing how you fidgeted uncomfortably under his touch. He looked like stopping at this point would be the last thing he wanted to do but he still gave you the space you needed.

You nodded your head slowly at his question. Haechan looked like he had to put his best effort to gain control of his body and move away from you, and you could totally relate at that point, actually. You weren’t really sure why did you even stop him before. It just felt like the right thing to do but at the same time, it was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Haechannie—"

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step away from you and releasing you from his hold. You were surprised by the fact that you almost fell down to the floor when he wasn’t holding you.

“No, don’t be—it was, umm,” You cleared your throat. The collar of your knitted sweater suddenly felt too tight. “It was good.”

“Good?” Haechan asked, smirking as he raised an eyebrow and you thought fuck there’s that look again and you cursed inwardly a few more times for feeling so whipped for his little, seductive eyebrow raise. “I thought that was more than good, Noona.”

“Probably for you,” you wanted to tease but you could hear your voice crack at the end.

“Oh, really?”

And he kissed you again because he never wanted to lose his game. He knew he already had you wrapped under his fingers; he just wanted to make you succumb to him. To have you say how amazing his touches really felt on your skin because he was just that kind of a guy.

And he was winning. Your reaction was exactly the way he wanted you to be, arching your back under his touch, pressing your chest against his, tongue darting out to taste the inside of his mouth better and longer.

“No, wait, timeout.” You pushed him away again and you noticed that his hair was a mess from the work of your fingers and weirdly enough, it only made him ten thousand times hotter.

“Noona, you’re torturing me.” He whined against your shoulder, playfully biting the skin over your clothes. “Do you want me to stop or not?”

Haechan had the habit of whining when things didn’t go his way. It was immature and it would probably look childishly annoying on someone else, but it only made him that much more adorable. Still annoying most of the time, but always adorable.

“I’m sorry.” You were torn between feeling bad or laughing about it because my God, look at that pout. “Maybe a five-minute break? I could make you some coffee. My roommate is away for the weekend.”

He sighed, the pout on his lips grew even more apparent. “You’re inviting me to your room? At this hour? After this?”

“I’m not going to have sex with you tonight, Lee Donghyuck, just to be clear.”

“Which is the more reason why you shouldn’t be inviting me over then!”

You laughed because his voice was becoming quite high-pitched. “Are you so incapable of using your brain instead of your dick?”

“Noonaaaaa~” He threw his head back in exasperation, which gave you the chance to ogle at the column of his throat. “Seriously, is torturing guys at the end of a date your sick hobby or something?”

“Look, if you stay over, we can still make-out.” You throw a smirk at him, unlocked your door and pushed it wide open. “And I make the most amazing coffee, trust me.”

“Fine,” he exhaled, walking into your room with a suppressed smile on his face. “And I’m only here for coffee, nothing more. Making-out with you is just a bonus.” And you found yourself giggling like a child as he cradled you into his arms and pushed you down to your bed because you both knew, it was the other way around.

***

About a month later, a similar situation happened again and there was no getting out of it.

It started with Haechan coming over to your room on a Sunday afternoon. Your roommate was staying over at her boyfriend’s place again for the weekend, so you had the room to yourself for the entire day. Haechan came unplanned and he’d brought his MacBook with him because, “I know myself well enough that I’d end up playing Overwatch instead of working on my assignment, so could you please be a responsible adult and force me to do my work even if I start crying at your feet?”

Haechan was always the dramatic one in your relationship but you nodded your head and let him in. You brought over some snacks and made him coffee like usual—which he always replied with, “Noona, I don’t want to sound like an ungrateful boyfriend but this coffee tastes like shi—” but was always finished with a pillow smacked to his face, a form of your courtesy.

You were working on your own papers too, sitting on the carpeted floor with your back pressed against the foot of your bed and a MacBook resting on your lap. Your textbooks were sprawled all over the place, and Haechan was lying down on your bed, head falling over the edge. He was looking at his phone, his thumb running up and down the screen.

“Noona?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m bored.”

“Aren’t you supposed to work on your assignment?”

“Finished it already.”

You threw a look over your shoulder, glancing to see him lounging on your bed as if it was his own. Haechan already had his MacBook closed, and was looking at you upside down with a completely bored look on his face. You knew he was smart, but you didn’t know he was that smart when he really put his mind to it.

“Well, that was fast,” you commented.

“No, you’re just doing it painfully slow.”

“Well, sorry for not being as smart as you,” you mumbled, even though you weren’t really annoyed about it. Haechan huffed and walked closer, sitting closely right behind you, and trapping you between his legs.

“You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met, though,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. “What are you working on exactly?”

“I don’t even know, honestly,” you sighed, leaning against his chest, dropping your head on his shoulder. “You wanna order some take-out?”

“Can I eat you for dinner instead?”

“Was that a sex joke, Lee Donghyuck?”

“Could be, if you’re interested.” You could see him wiggling his eyebrows from his reflection on your standing mirror. Both of you looked adorable, if you could say so yourself, wearing a matching white shirt (though not on purpose) and enjoying each other’s warmth with Haechan’s arms wrapped protectively around your figure. You sighed as you admired the sight of Haechan’s features in the mirror.

“Have I told you how sexy you look with your hair pushed back like this?” You asked, reaching out to touch some of his strands and he followed your gaze, looking at his own reflection in the mirror.

“Huh.” He seemed surprised. “It’s the first time you said that actually. What else do you think is sexy about me?”

“Promise you won’t get cocky about it if I tell you?”

“Can’t. You know how I am.”

You sighed but you succumbed to his wish. He praised you from time to time, it was only fair for you to do the same. “The way you dance.”

“You saw me dance?”

“Hm-hmm.”

“When?”

“That time when we went to Jaemin’s party. You were dancing to Billy Jean.”

“You saw that?!” He was flustered, scarlet painting his cheeks and ears. “That was—I thought you were in the bathroom!”

“Well, I was going to but then I saw you and kinda had to stop and stare for a little. You dance more with your hips than with your hands, do you know that? It was kinda hot.”

And just like that, the flabbergasted look on his face was immediately replaced with that Godforsaken cocky smirk again. “Were you turned on back then because of me?”

“A little. Or maybe I just really had to pee.”

“You should’ve said something, you know.”

“And then what? Have sex with you in Jaemin’s room? No freaking way.”

“We could’ve used my car. My hips could do so much more than just dancing, you know.”

“You’re disgusting.” You elbowed him slightly on the stomach to stop him from giggling, before you focused back on your MacBook. “Now, shoo, my boy. Mommy’s gotta work.”

Haechan had his chin on one of your shoulders. “But Noona~”

“I’m studying.”

“I’m bored~” He whined like the baby that he was, nuzzling his nose against the crook of your neck and you flinched slightly when his breath tickled your skin. “Can we make-out? Please pretty pleaseeeee~”

“Give me half an hour to finish this real quick—”

“Noonaaaaaaa~”

“What?” You were trapped between laughing and acting annoyed about it. “I seriously need to study. Didn’t you tell me to be a responsible adult for today?”

“You could also be a responsible adult by making-out with me though.” He chuckled to himself. “We could do adult things if you—”

“No,” you firmly stated though your smile kept on appearing on your face. You pushed a palm against his cheek, playfully shoving him away. “Now, go away, Dongsookie, I really have to study.”

“Fine,” he exhaled loudly against your shoulder and you could practically feel his pout growing on his face. He didn’t let you go, though. He kind of just sat there behind you, still circling his arms around your waist as he lazily stared at the words you were typing on the keyboard. You had trouble concentrating with the way you could feel every time he took in a breath from how close his chest was pressed against your spine but eventually you got the hang of it.

You were already working on your third page when Haechan suddenly had his lips on the side of your neck, lazily suckling on the skin until you could no longer ignore him.

“Haechannie.”

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m playing a game,” he murmured against your skin, licking at the soft skin before he nibbled at it with his teeth. “It’s called how fast can I distract my girlfriend from working over a stupid assignment instead of spending time with me.”

“But I am spending time with you, though.”

“You know what I mean.”

And you had to bite your lip because he had a certain kind of pressure on his words that made your skin tingle in anticipation. His lips were soft but scorching hot as he drew bruises on your skin and it felt so good and dangerous at the same time. It was like standing on a bridge made of glass, both exciting and terrifying.

“You know what I think is sexy about you?” He quietly asked, one hand running down your body, slipping under your shirt and hovering dangerously close to your bra. “The way you say my name when we kiss,” he continued, adding a soft moan when he latched his lips around your earlobe.

You shivered, feeling heat growing on your cheeks. “Haechannie—”

“Yes, like that,” he chuckled, his voice suddenly became deeper. “You’re so sexy, you’re driving me insane.”

You tried your best to ignore him, you really did. But the second he had his warm mouth against your lips, his fingers grabbing your face almost forcefully to turn towards him, you just lost it and you found yourself crawling into his lap, tangling your legs around his waist and moaning against his mouth as he was against yours.

“Noona,” he sighed when you kissed down his neck, as if your every touch was a gift that he craved more and more. He shuddered slightly when you had your hand under his shirt and as if you just pushed the wrong button, he suddenly picked you up by the waist, shoved your textbooks away with one swipe of the back of his hand, and laid you down on the carpeted floor in one swift motion.

“If you keep doing that,” he breathed out heavily, eyes glazed as he stared at your kiss swollen lips. “I won’t be able to stop, even if you beg me to.”

You weren’t sure what came over you but you found yourself hooking your fingers around his necklace and brought his face down, whispering, “Then don’t stop,” directly against his lips.

It was all rush and passion and Haechan was not wasting even a second away before he began to undress you, removing each clothing very easily and you secretly wondered just how many times had he done this before from how smooth he unclasped your bra with one flick of his finger.

He pulled his shirt over his head, his silver necklace hanging loosely around his neck. “Tell me if I’m being too fast,” he said, before he climbed on top of you, throwing the piece of clothing away without a care. Your heart jumped at the sight of him, knowing how this could lead to something more but couldn’t really stop him. Not with the way he had his hands reaching down from the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach, his fingers brushing above the hem of your jeans.

His kiss was always breathtaking, to say the least, but it was a bit different this time because it felt like he was losing control of himself. His kiss was almost forceful, his teeth roughly nibbling at your lower lip before he moved down your chin and found his place in the crook of your neck again. His hand was on your chest, cupping you fully with his palm and let out this sexy groan when he felt you gasping his name against his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re just doing that on purpose now, aren’t you?” He hissed, eyes clouded with lust. He peppered kisses down your chest, lips hovering above your nipple when he said, “You’re being cruel, Noona.” You were tugging at his dark locks when he placed it between his lips, sucking at the sensitive spot, and you tried to hold back your moan but failing every time.

Haechan was giggling to himself, his tongue flicking around the bud. “The way you’re reacting to me is so cute. I didn’t know you were this sensitive.” He ran his tongue across his lower lip, staring at you like he wanted to ravish every part of you, which he probably did. “You’re so goddamn cute.”

“Haechannie.”

“Yeah?”

“I won’t be needing that kind of commentary ever again in the future, thanks,” you uttered, trying your best to focus on his touch and not his words because Haechan could be annoyingly talkative sometimes.

He chuckled again, moving along to land a few kisses on your stomach. “If you’re that sensitive here, how sensitive will you be if I touch you right over…” He trailed a finger down from your belly button to the edge of your underwear. His eyes twinkled gleefully before he rubbed your clit over your underwear. “…here?”

You gave your best strength to stay sane but Haechan’s giggle over your reaction only tortured you even further. “Stop playing around,” you hissed under your breath, pretty sure that you were blushing from ear to ear.

“Playing?” Haechan grinned tauntingly, “I’m being pretty serious, though.” He spread your legs, kissing the inner part of your trembling thigh before he hovered dangerously close to the point you could feel his breath down there. You couldn’t help but gulp in anticipation and Haechan knew that. He knew how much you wanted him to take off your underwear and eat you out like it’s his last meal.

But of course, being the little fucking devil that he was, Haechan only threw you his usual smirk and said, “You know I’d do anything for you, right, Noona? You just gotta beg for it.”

“No way.”

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t know.” He faked a pout. “I’m younger than you, you know. I need you to teach me these things.”

You reciprocated by kicking him right on his abs because as desperate as you were, there was no way in hell you were going to grovel at his feet, begging for him to please you. “All right, all right, I’m sorry, geez!” Haechan said, laughing as he successfully dodged two of your first kicks. Soon after, he grabbed your moving legs, carefully placed them on his sides and ran his hands slowly from your legs to your thighs. He took a long glance at your body, sighing like it was some kind of beautiful torture for him to take. “You don’t even realize how hot you are, do you?” He leaned closer and grabbed you by your chin, locking both of your gazes together. “Do you even know how hard I am right now because of you?”

It was a rhetorical question, clearly, because you could definitely tell how hard and hot he was pressing against you, even if his jeans and your underwear were still on the way.

“God, just—” you gasped when he slipped a knee between your legs, pressing it against your core. “Just stop being a fucking tease and fuck me already, Donghyuck.”

And he grinned against your skin. “Fucking finally.” You heard him say under his breath, before he carried you in his arms and moved you to the bed. It felt somewhat scary, how fast he was being, because you had only experienced sex once and it was the painfully awkward kind of sex with your high school boyfriend and you didn’t really have the chance to practice it with anyone else while it seemed to you, at this point, was clearly not the case for him.

Haechan had his eyes on you, all half-lidded with lust and passion, as he unbuckled the belt of his jeans and you had to gulp at the sight. He didn’t really have six-pack abs like Jaehyun—considering your boyfriend was quite an athlete during his senior days—but his shoulders were broad, his chest was toned, his stomach was lean and his skin, as it glistened slightly with sweat, was just absolutely breathtaking.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked, and you knew how he’d always been cocky in his entire life, but he’d never been this cocky. “You’re practically drooling.”

“I am not,” you retorted but you lacked confidence. Haechan grabbed a condom from the pocket of his jeans before he climbed back into the bed with his jeans unbuttoned.

“Why do you already have a condom with you?”

“Because I came prepared.”

“I thought you said you wanted to study.”

“Among other things,” he grinned against your lips and shushed down your next protest. “I will be studying your body, if you give me the chance.”

“That was so lame.” But even your insult couldn’t mask how nervous you sounded, especially when Haechan was settling himself between your legs again, fingers hooking around your underwear.

“Final chance if you want me to stop, Noona,” he said though it felt like it was almost impossible for him to stop. “I’m serious. After this, I won’t stop even if you cry.”

You swallowed your breath, heart thrumming loud against your chest. “Just do whatever you want,” you answered, almost too quiet for even your ears to hear but Haechan’s eyes gleamed in anticipation.

“That’s my girl,” he said, grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs apart before he leaned in to taste your mouth again. “I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.”

You realized you were holding your breath when Haechan wrapped the condom around his length and he had his eyes on you before he pushed in, asking with an unexpected low voice of his, “Ready?”

But he did not wait for an answer and you found yourself hissing when he pushed in, slowly at first and suddenly all at once. You twisted your fingers against the bed sheet, biting your lower lip because it hurt trying to adjust to his size and Haechan was a little bit lost in his own thoughts, muttering, “Fuck, you’re so tight,” under his breath, slightly throwing his head back out of pleasure. “Noona, you’re so fucking tight. Do you know that?”

He leaned closer to you, chest pressing against your breasts as he mouthed against the skin of your shoulder and slowly began to move his hips. “You all right?” He asked, making eye contact after a while and you shakily nodded your head, though the pain was still there. “Then I’ll move faster.”

You almost hit your head against your headboard when he suddenly picked up the pace, thrusting into you hard and deep; it knocked the breath out of your lungs. “Haecha—” you could barely speak at that point, arms clutching tight to his back, nails raking against his spine.

“Fuck,” he uttered between heavy breaths as he sat on his knees, holding both of your legs in the air, almost splitting your body in half and pushed deeper. “How the fuck do you feel this good, I—” he ended his sentence short, kissing your ankle instead, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wanna keep you—you’re so pretty like this, Noona—so fucking pretty—”

Haechan was always good with his words but at that time, he was making incoherent noises at the back of his throat, jumping from one sentence to another as if he was thinking about several things at once and he was running out of time.

“Haechan, wait—s-slow down—” You placed a hand on his shoulder, tears forming in your eyes. “You’re moving too fast—It hurts—”

Haechan was unfocused, but the last two words that slipped from your mouth brought him back to reality. He stopped almost immediately, looking at you with eyes searching your face. “Does it hurt?” He asked and you nodded, your body shaking a little bit. His gaze softened, cupping your cheek in his hand before he slowly pulled out of you. “I’m sorry, come here.” He cradled you into his arms, sitting down on the bed and helped you climb into his lap. “Maybe if we do it this way,” he said, wiping a tear from your eye with his thumb, “You’ll feel better?”

You could feel him twitching below you, the tip of his cock pressing against your folds. Haechan stayed true to his promise, he wasn’t going to stop even if you cried and that’s fine because you didn’t want him to.

“Take your time,” Haechan said, smiling gently in a way that was so not him that it made you feel weird. You could tell that he was trying to keep himself calm and composed even when all he wanted to do was to fuck you senselessly.

He pushed inside again, but let you take control of the pace this time. You slid down slowly, wincing slightly at the friction but it no longer hurt as much. Haechan was staring at you the entire time, unconsciously licking his lower lip when you slowly began to bounce on his lap.

“Kiss me,” he demanded and you did, sharing his breath and his moans, and tangling your hands in his hair. When he felt your body relaxing against him, he grabbed you by the waist and suddenly thrust forward, making you gasp and clenched your legs together.

“Fuck,” he moaned under his breath, hissing at how perfect you felt around him. “Noona, you can be mad at me as much as you want after this but for now let me just—” he groaned, furrowing his eyebrows at the feeling of him sliding in and out of you. “Just let me fuck you the way I want.”

And you found yourself thrown back to the bed with him thrusting into you deep and raw, faster and much more forceful than before. His nails were sinking into your skin from how hard he was holding you by your hips, keeping you still as he rocked his hips forward as hard and as fast as he liked. Expletives were falling from his lips between his low grunts and breathy moans and you couldn’t help but sob a little at how strong he was going. It felt painfully amazing, and you knew your body wasn’t making any sense, and it surprised you when your orgasm hit you like a wave, just a few seconds before he reached his. You honestly never thought that something so painful could also bring this much pleasure and you wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t even find the energy to keep yourself up.

You fell down to the bed with Haechan toppling on top of you almost immediately, chest heaving fast as he tried to bring back some air into his lungs.

“Holy fucking hell,” he said, breathing heavily at the juncture of your neck. “That was so good. This is probably the first time I—”

“Haechannie.”

“Oh right, shit!” He immediately jumped away, giving you some space and gently placed his palm on the side of your face, checking your condition. “Are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere? Noona, I’m so sor—Yah!“

You pinched him by the nose, glowering at him with the little strength you have left and you didn’t let go even if he was tapping frantically against the back of your hand, asking for time-outs before you broke his bones.

Well, he said you could be mad at him all you want. It was time for him to face your wrath and it was not going to be pretty.

***

It wasn’t long until your name became a famous topic to discuss around the hallway too and it felt weird yet exciting at the same time, because it was true. You were dating Lee Haechan. And no matter how many times you had to convince yourself that it wasn’t solely your imagination, it still felt unreal.

Because Haechan was shining like the sun, and you couldn’t really shine as bright.

It suddenly felt like high school all over again when you’d once dated the Prom King, Jung Jaehyun, where people always talked behind your back, making comments about your face, or your body, or your attitude and how every aspect of your life did not fit the legendary high school prince that was Jung Jaehyun. It had gotten so much into your head that you had to break up with him, and hating yourself for over a year on how weak you’d become.

Dating Haechan was similar but different in the way he treated you. Jaehyun was too kind, not really saying anything back to anyone who said awful things about you and instead, just told you to not pay any mind about it. Haechan was much braver in saying the things that came to mind, so whenever he heard people talking trash about you, he would come up to them with words laced with venom. It was kind of childish, the way he got worked up rather easily, and even more childish when he continued to pout and fume about it even after a whole day had passed.

“Seriously, I said I’m fine,” you once said to him, entering his Hyundai after he opened the door for you.

“Well, I’m pissed off,” he said, unconsciously closing the door a bit too hard, making you flinch slightly. He walked to the other side of the car, sinking to his seat behind the wheel and exhaled loudly.

“Haechannie.”

“What?” His tone was still a bit harsh, but you knew he didn’t mean to shout at you.

“Thank you for defending me,” you softly said, reaching out for his hand. “But at this point, you’re gonna be mad with literally everyone and anger does not look pretty on you.”

“But aren’t you pissed, though? They literally have no business whatsoever to—”

“I know.” You squeezed his hand. “Look if it gets worse, we can always plan out something. There’s this perfect swamp I know outside of town.”

And Haechan couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he was right, that swamp thing could really be your thing. “You and your stupid swamp,” he muttered, shaking his head in amusement as he grabbed your face for a kiss. “Can we have sex at your place today?”

You sighed. It was always like this when it came to him. “Sure, why not.”

Because certainly, you weren’t complaining.

***

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lyallblacklupin · 3 years

Text

Sirius tries to remember Remus.

Post-Azkaban Wolfstar: Angst with Hopeful Ending.

Sirius is battling with his memory after Azkaban. 12 years of dementors torturing him, that had caused some real damages to his brain. He doesn’t remember people until they introduce themselves to him. Everyone is steering clear his way but Remus hasn’t given up on him yet.

These days are sickening. They make you feel so lonely and ugly. They tell you—no they scream at you that you don’t deserve anything. Know why? Because you don’t matter. You don’t exist. The most horrifying thing about those voices is that they can make you believe they are saying the truth. Like I did. And I still do, and believe me, it’s not good.

Life is just unfair is so easy to say, it’s just a slip of tongue as if you are consoling a group of people, like Madam Hooch used to when we would lose to Slytherins because they played dirty. However, realizing the fact how unfair life really is, is gut-wrenching. It forces you to become unlike yourself. It puts malevolent ideas in your head for the people who you love—or used to loved. I would go on and blame these walls, but then I’m questioning the universe that why did I have to be born here? The Grimmauld Place 12? And then I’m eventually answered; Life is unfair, you git, haven’t you get it yet?

The nights are terrible here, I hear Kreacher whispering to my charming mother’s portrait, I hear the floor creaking even though no one comes here, except they are invited by Dumbledore—which sounds weird because it’s my house but again, life is just unfair.

Right now, I’m struggling to sleep because there is a prickling fear sitting at the edges of my body. The fear of Dementors for taking the last of everything away.

I still have some good memories, like the one when James made me Harry’s Godfather. Harry’s big emerald eyes were streaming with fat tears until he was given into my arms. I can remember that I had gasped at the scene, and so did the others in the room.

“Oh Sirius! He was crying for like an hour! But he stops now!? I swear this is not a coincidence!” Lily said, but James had been quiet.

“Prongs?” No answer.

“Prongsie? Hey!” Because I caught him pressing his hand on his mouth forcefully, his face blotchy, and he didn’t stop sniffing. He was crying! “What? Like you—father and son both work alternatively? When Harry stops crying, he transfers his weeping mantra to you, and vice versa?”

“Shut up!” Before I said something, I let out an ‘oof’ because James shoved me in his embrace, sandwiching Harry in middle of the process. Harry was giggling with his tear-stained face. His laugh was like music to my ears. I didn’t mention that. I was in love with Harry. He felt like my own child. I never thought I’d feel this exuberance but there was, more than I expected. I was bad at displaying true affection in front of people, but I couldn’t help when Harry’s tiny and chubby hands brushed the collar of my jacket, utterly in awe with the feeling of material on his fingers, I completely forgot James was hugging me, and I managed to press a kiss on Harry’s cheek. He smelled like soft babies. I was in love with that scent. I wanted to hold him forever.

I can never forget that memory. It helps me cast a patronus. There is also something vague about that memory. There is someone too in the small crowd, behind me, other than James. I can remember there was the blonde girl, Mckinnon, and her best friend, Meadows-something. I struggle with names. Sometimes I forget—

“Sirius?”

—Remus’ name. I have to see or hear the person to see if I can remember.

“I’m in my room?” He calls me out every time for like the hundredth time he has found me in my bedroom, and yes, I am still in my bedroom. He won’t stop calling me out. Sometimes, he is very annoying.

“Oh yeah, Of course.” He appears at the doorway, leaning to his left, smiling weakly. He looks tired. He is short of breath. I want to give him a glass of water but my limbs are protesting.

“I could give you a glass of water, but I—just don’t feel like getting up.” I didn’t want to say that but I did because the expressions on Remus’ face are priceless. There is awkwardness written on his face with a hint of shock and sadness. There is nothing pretty about that, but it brings back an indistinct memory I enjoy that I cannot tell. I am disturbing. That’s another trait I have discovered about myself ever since I came back from Azkaban.

“No, it’s alright. I just had water. Not thirsty at all. I—umm…I brought you something.” He says, and then I notice a package in his hand.

“Hope it’s not something you and your werewolf buddies plays with.”

“Ha, no, I wish. But it’s something I needed to give you…from a very long time.” He comes and sits beside me. I had to sit up because I can’t let him touch me. I don’t know why but I am always scared of Remus Lupin, and it is my secret, “Here.” He gives me the package, and looks into my eyes. I try looking away but I couldn’t try harder.

“Happy Birthday.” He whispers, and it sends a shudder to my body. What is the date today?

I open the package, and there it is. A photo frame. It was a leather frame. Black. I am trying not to look at the picture so I distract myself by admiring the leather. And again, I remember Harry. But it is a forced visualization so it doesn’t last longer. I am very much aware of Remus’ presence. I am also getting short of breath now. I look at him and he is already staring at me. I smile at him, but he frowns. And then I frown, too. What is wrong? I saw his hand coming up near my face, and I bat away.

He is gawking at him with wide and horrified eyes, and a hurt expression.

“I—I’m sorry. I don’t…I just—I am sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know you don’t. But you eventually do.” It doesn’t come out bitter. He is smiling at me, but he isn’t done talking, “Sirius, I want to talk. It is eating me alive. Sometimes, I don’t think I am left with much longer in me…But, hey,” He reaches out but stops immediately, “Please…I—I want to talk to you about…Everything or anything. We can talk about us?”

“Us?”

“Yeah…If you want to,”

“There is no Us, Remus.”

“There used to be.” I snort, but he is frowning. I hate his frowns. Why can’t he just smile like a normal person?

“Like what? Did we snog? Or shagged once or twice?” I can’t recall any heterosexual experience, so I can’t say I have never done anything with a guy.

“Sirius, was that picture not enough?” He said with such sadness. And then I look at the picture.

And then I see it. There is a younger version of Remus Lupin, wearing a giant grey jumper, sitting on a library’s table. How decent. There is someone in between his legs, standing before him. It is a dark-haired guy, wearing a Gryffindor tie on his hogwarts’ uniform. He has his hands wrapped around Remus’ torso. A thick curtain of his long hair is almost concealing the half of his face, considering how much it is already buried in Remus’ chest. He squeezes gleefully which causes the younger Remus to erupt with laughter. The scene goes back and forth. And then I spot two people sitting in far distance. They were unmistakably James and Lily. They are the only people I recognize. Those two are cackling because how stupidly romantic the two boys are acting against each other. The picture keeps playing, and I focus again on the couple in the spotlight, and I realize that little Remus is trying to press a kiss on the guy’s forehead but the other person doesn’t stand still, constantly whipped his long hair—and then I freeze all of a sudden. Because I see it. The grey eyes, the long hair, and especially the scar on the left wrist, which still glows sliver in the daylight when I secretly stand in the balcony.

“That is us.” It comes out of my mouth even though I never expect myself to say it.

“Yeah, you and me. We were not just each other’s quick snog, or shagging partner. We go way back, Padfoot. Longer than James and Lily.”

“I don’t remember you…” It comes out as a whimper. I feel stupid and vulnerable.

“I’m sorry, Sirius. I’m sorry for what I did. I never apologized about this…I wanted to—“

“I don’t remember you…”

“—but I never really got a chance. I’m sorry I thought you could betray the Potters. I’m sorry that I kept myself believing for twelve years that it was you. But I swear to Merlin, I never stopped loving you—“

“I don’t remember you, Remus…” But he is not listening.

“—I used to hate myself for this. I felt disgusting that I still loved you. And then I melted myself in filthy thoughts. No one was there to judge me. I used to picture you all the time, sitting on the sofa waiting for me to come back from the muggle job you hated. I used to see you laying on the bed in the night. I used to imagine myself cuddling up with you. And some days, it was so real that we used to talk till dawn. We used to watch the sunrise together. October 31st used to come and go by, and we pretended it was just another Halloween and you used to say ‘Moony, you hate Halloween because some people dress up as werewolves, and you don’t get to wear a costume!’—“

I stop saying anything. I cannot tell that I don’t remember him because I do. His hand accidently rubs shoulder, and I am suddenly yanked to my happiest memory—Harry’s beautiful hands reaching my jacket—and the ‘someone’ is not just someone who is behind me, rubbing my lower back and laying his head against mine, because it was him. It was Remus Lupin. It is still Remus Lupin, I want him to be.

I cannot tell that I don’t remember him because I am starting to…and it’s a start. He keeps telling me how he spent the last twelve years, so I listen to him because my years were not in an open cage just like his. It was scary to be locked up for years and never to see the people you love, but it must have been even scarier to be free for years and never see the people you love. Remus Lupin has suffered too, and I can’t help but be there for him.

So as he keeps rambling his stories about his undying love for me, I slip into his space, and wrap my arms around his torso, like I had in the picture, and bury my face into his chest. He is not warmer as he must have been in that picture but it calms me down because his heart is beating against mine, and I am happy to have him alive with me.

Thanks for reading! Stay magical!

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

My Everything - Part Sixteen

A Take it Slow Sequel

What happens with Harry and Y/N after he proposes? How will the two navigate the engaged life while also continuing to juggle their jobs, friends, and families? Let’s find out.

Warnings: fluff, smut, and angst

Words: 4.6K

a/n: it’s back! thank you all for your patience, I’ve that written for a bit, but it felt good to take a break and work on some other things. I hope you enjoy this part!

Masterpost

“You’re having another?!” Nannie shrieks through the phone.

“Yeah! We’re going to find out the sex soon, we’ve just been waiting until my first trimester is done.”

“How have you been feeling this time around?”

“I was really nauseous in the beginning, but now I’m fine not too bad.”

“I’m so excited for you.”

“We’re going to tell Jack soon.”

“He’ll be a great big brother, honey.”

“Thanks, Nannie.”

You speak with her a few minutes longer before hanging up. You wrap up things in your office before heading to the day care to pick up Jack.

“Mumma!” He exclaims.

“Hi, baby. You ready?”

“Mhm, look!” He holds up a drawing for you.

“Oh, that’s very nice. Should we put it on the fridge when we get home so Daddy can see it?”

“Yes!”

You get Jack in his car seat and get him home. You sit in the living room to grade some papers while he watches TV. Harry said he’d come home with pizza tonight.

“Babe!” You hear him call. He rests the pizza on the kitchen counter before coming into the living room. “Hi.” He smiles.

“Daddy!”

“Hey, buddy.” He kisses Jack’s head, and then kisses yours before sitting down. “How are you today?”

“Oh, I feel great, actually.”

“A couple more weeks, right?” He rubs your lower belly. Jack watches Harry and gets up to do the same thing to you. You can’t help but giggle.

“Jack…do you wanna know why Daddy rubs Mumma’s belly so much?” You ask him and pick him up to put him in your lap.

“Why?” You look at Harry and he nods.

“It’s because I’m growing a baby in here.”

“A baby?”

“Mhm, Daddy and I wanted to give you a little brother or sister. Would you like that?”

“Yes!”

“You’d have someone to play with, just like at day care.” Harry explains. “But it takes time for the baby to grow, so Mumma’s belly is gonna keep getting bigger.”

“When will baby come?”

“In the spring.” You say.

“We’re going to find out if it’s a boy or girl soon, Jack.” Harry says. “Our family’s growin’.”

“Growin’.” He repeats. You and Harry giggle.

“But that also means you might need to help us. Mumma’s gonna be really busy when baby comes.” Harry explains.

“Busy?”

“Mhm, she may not have as much time for kisses and cuddles.”

“But it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” You interject. “The baby will just need extra kisses and cuddles. You’ll be able to help with that, honey.”

“I will?”

“Mhm, because you give the best kisses and cuddles.” You tickle his tummy and it makes him giggle. “Come on, Daddy brought pizza home for dinner. Let’s eat.”

You kept your doctor’s appointments on Fridays so you wouldn’t have to worry about Jack needing to come with you. It was also an easy day for Harry to come meet you. Just like last time, you were gaining weight in your belly first before anywhere else, and in your boobs.

“Okay, are you two ready to know what you’re having?” Dr. Johnson asks you. You both nod yes. “Looks like this time around…it’s going to be a girl!”

Both you and Harry burst into happy tears. You had no idea what you’d name a girl. You were so sure with Jack. You’d really have to think about this one.

“A little girl, I can’t believe it.” Harry wipes his eyes. “I can’t wait to tell my mum.” He opens the car door for you and gets into the driver’s seat.

“I know! What are you thinking for names?”

“Did you wanna keep a J theme? What about, like, Jessica Rose?”

“You sure came up with that fast.” You laugh. “I like that, though. Jessica Rose. Jack and Jessica. It’s cute.”

“That’s what I thought. We don’t need to decide right now though. We can think it over.”

Harry pulls up to the day care at your university and tells you he’ll go inside to get Jack. It would be a nice surprise since Harry never picked him up. He got a few looks as he walked in. It’s not like he was the only parent with tattoos, so he just chalked it up to the fact that he’s literally been to the day care twice.

“Daddy?!” Jack comes running over to Harry, and he scoops him up.

“Are yeh surprised?”

“Yeah!” Jack nuzzles into Harry.

“Oh, hi Mr. Styles.” One of the day care workers says to him. “Almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Hi there, uh, I’m sorry I don’t remember your name.”

“Haley.” She smiles.

“Right, sorry.”

“Where’s your wife?”

“In the car. We had to meet up for something earlier, so I thought it would be nice if I came in to get him since it’s so rare. How was he today?”

“Oh, just fine. He’s always so good.”

“Got everything, Jack?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright, mummy and Buster are in the car, we better not leave ‘em out there. Bye, Haley, thanks.”

Some of the other day care workers come over to her.

“So that’s where he gets the curls from.”

“God, Dr. Y/L/N is so lucky!” Haley groans. “To be honest I always thought she was divorced since she doesn’t have the same last name as Jack.”

“Oh, lots of people don’t change their names nowadays, come on.”

“She never talks about him either, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Not all parents have the time to stay and chat. Come on, we need to clean up.”

Jack babbled on about day care and the things he drew, and the leaves he got to play in outside. When you got him inside you sat him down in the living room.

“Jack, today Daddy and I went to the doctor to find out if you’re having a baby brother or sister. Would you like to know?”

“Yes!”

“You’re gonna have a baby sister, buddy.” Harry beams.

“Baby sister.” Jack pats your tummy and it nearly makes you weep.

“That’s right, my darling boy.” You coo. “Got a little girl in here.”

“How?”

“Babies come from mummy’s tummies.” Harry explains.

“But how does baby get in Mumma’s tummy?” Harry’s face goes pale, and he looks at you.

“Isn’t he a little young to be askin’ that?”

“He’s just curious.” You shrug. “Um, Jack, when two people, uh, love each other…well I shouldn’t say that because sometimes people don’t love each other…”

“Y/N, he doesn’t need to know the complexities of that.” Harry chuckles. “We can be cute about it, he’s only two.” Harry pulls Jack into his lap. “Jack, when two people love each other a lot, like Mummy and I do, they’re able to turn that love into a baby. In fact, Mummy grew you in her tummy, just like how she’s doin’ with baby sister.”

“You did?!” He says to you.

“Mhm, hold on.” You take out your phone and find a picture of when you were pregnant with Jack. “See, that’s you in my tummy.”

“Wow!” He gazes at the photo. You swipe to one right after he was born.

“And this was you as a baby. You were so tiny.” You pout at him.

Jack loses interest and slides off of Harry’s lap. He get his box of blocks and spreads them out to play with.

“He’s not even going to remember what you said, and what you said was so nice.” You pout at Harry.

“It’s okay, I’m sure that won’t be the only time he asks us.” He laughs.

You kept waking up around four in the morning, almost in anticipation for Harry’s 5AM alarm to go off. Although, he always stayed in bed until 5:45. He’d shower, take Buster out, make up Jack’s lunch box, and out the door he’d go.

You were reaching that point in your pregnancy where your only real craving was Harry. It was difficult, though, to find the time. You were busy with Jack the second you’d get him home. You needed to get him dinner, a bath, and then to bed. Then after bed you would use the quiet to grade or make sure your lessons were good to go. You had a home office to get your work done in, and Harry would do his best to leave you be.

As you looked over at him sleeping peacefully, you felt guilty for wanting to wake him up. He was just as tired as you. It was nearing the end of October, and Jack loved playing in the leaves, so when Harry would get home from work, Jack would beg him to go outside and jump around in the piles. Harry had a tough time saying no, especially since he missed Jack all day long.

When Harry’s alarm goes off, you watch him grab his phone to hit snooze, and then he mindlessly rolls over to reach for you and pull you close like his did most mornings.

“Harry.” You whisper.

“Mm.” He grunts and furrows his brows. “Don’t need to be up yet.”

“I’ve been awake for a while.”

“Why?” He says, eyes still closed.

“Because…I…want you.” You say in a half whine half pout. His eyes snap open to meet yours. “I’m restless.”

“Would you let me sleep a little longer? You can take a shower with me in a bit.”

“Oh.” Your eyes burn with tears. You turn your face so he doesn’t see. You felt slightly rejected, and maybe you were taking it a little more personally than you normally would.

“I’m just really tired.”

“Okay.”

He closes his eyes again and settles. He hears you sniffle and he sighs. He looks back up at you and sees the tears trickle down your cheeks.

“Y/N.” Harry sits up slightly. “Alright, I’m awake now.”

“And now you’re upset with me.”

“I’m not, come here.”

“No.”

“I thought you wanted to-“

“You don’t even really want me right now and it would just feel like a force. I’m sorry for waking you.” You sit up and cross your arms.

“I do want you, I just wanna be able to give you what you need and I can’t do that when I’m not fully awake. I’m awake now, so-“

“Just forget it.” You rip the blanket away and get out of bed.

“Where are you going?!”

“I’m gonna go put breakfast together and make your coffee. Go back to sleep if you want.” You huff. You throw your robe on and leave the bedroom.

Harry sighs heavily and looks at the clock; 5:15. There was still time. He gets up and goes down the stairs to the kitchen, the smell of fresh coffee hitting his nostrils. You were starting the electric kettle to make some oatmeal but he stops you.

“Don’t be like this.” He says, cupping your cheeks. “It kills me.”

“I can’t help it, I’m sorry.” You sniffle again. “I feel disgusting all the time with all the changes my body is making again, so when you don’t jump at the chance to frisk me…I get a little self-conscious.”

You bury your head in his chest and he wraps his arms around you. He kisses the top of your head, and pulls you back to look at you.

“You know I think you get more beautiful every day.” He kisses your forehead. “Let me take you back upstairs. I was just groggy before, I’m awake now. Let me love on yeh, hm?”

“You really want to? You’re not just saying that?”

“I really want to. I can’t remember the last time we actually fucked. It’s a shame.”

He leads you back upstairs and gets all of your clothes off. He strips himself of his pajama bottoms as well and joins you on the bed. He has you lay down and he kisses you all over, which makes you giggle. Things stop being funny when his fingers run along your slit. His middle finger slips inside, making your head roll back and your toes curl. His thumb works your clit and a breathless moan leaves your lips.

“This what you’ve been needin’, angel?”

“Yes.” You whine.

“Poor thing.” He pouts and then smirks at you. “Must be so difficult wanting to fuck your husband all the time, hm?”

“Harry, now really isn’t the time to tease me, okay?”

“Really? I think it is. Still got plenty of time before I need to hop in the shower, thought I’d have a little fun.”

He slips another finger in and curls the both of them up. He kisses on your chest, and sucks on the skin right above your breast. Your eyes widen. Harry didn’t really leave marks on you anymore. You both were getting older, after all. You gasp as his teeth sink in further and he groans as he feels you becoming more and more wet. He lets go and grins as he watches your skin turn purple. He uses his other thumb to rub over the mark.

“Why’d I ever stop doin’ that? Purple really is one of your colors, love.”

“Harry.” You groan as his thumb rubs harsh circles on your clit.

“Distracted are we?”

His fingers pump in and out of you faster, your nails grasp at the sheets and you nearly scream at the orgasm you have. He uses his free hand to cover your mouth.

“Shh, don’t want him wakin’ up, right?” You nod your head slowly.

“Okay then.” He removes his hand and kisses you.

Your hands run through his hair as he positions himself over you, lining his hard cock up with your center. He swallows your moans as he pushes inside. You wrap your legs around Harry’s waist and pull him as close as you can, heels digging into the back of his thighs. He uses one of his hands to knead your breast. You grab it to slide up to your throat.

“Really? That won’t stress you out?” He grunts as he thrusts in and out of you.

“No.”

He gets a decent grip on you where he knows you like it, and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You practically claw at his back which you know he likes. He craved the scratch marks. He lets go of your throat, before you can complain he’s grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. You both were looking directly at each other.

“Harry.”

“Y/N.”

“Oh my god, fuck!” Your back arches as you come to another release.

He fucks you through it, coming to his own release. He nearly collapses on top of you, but goes to your side instead. It takes you both a minute or two to catch your breaths.

“Might take you up on that shower, you got me all sweaty.” You giggle.

“Good.” He kisses you and gets up. “Who needs coffee when a good shag with your wife is enough to get you goin’ for the day?”

He helps you off the bed and into the shower.

“Love you so much.” He coos as he washes your back.

“Love you too.”

Jack decided he wanted to be a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle for Halloween. It was the perfect family dress up. You looked extremely cute as a turtle, especially with your bump growing. Niall and Sarah were having their annual party. You and Harry walk Jack up and down your street to take him trick or treating before heading to the party.

Harry inspects all of the candy when you get home. He allows Jack one piece. Your doorbell rings to let the babysitter in.

“Hi Becca.” You smile at her. “Come on in.”

“Thanks! Love the outfit Mrs. Styles.”

“Oh, thanks. It was all Jack’s idea. Harry! Becca’s here!”

“Alright, alright.” He comes into the kitchen. “Jack’s just fallen asleep. Feel free to watch TV, eat whatever yeh like in fridge, all that.”

“Thanks, Mr. Styles. Have a good time at your party.” She smiles, and out the door you two go.

“She’s a sweet girl, I’m glad we found her.” You say.

“Me too. Thank god for Sarah and her connections.”

Niall nearly pisses himself when he sees the two of you.

“This takes the cake, you two always have the best costumes.”

Harry has a couple drinks, but refrains from getting too crazy since you couldn’t drink. You were having fun catching up with your friends. You told them you were having a girl. You feel your phone buzz in your pocket and you see Becca’s name.

“Becca?!” You go to a more private part of the house.

“Hi, Mrs. Styles, um, I think Jack is sick.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well I heard something on the baby monitor and went up to check on him and he threw up in bed, and-“

“We’ll be right there!” You hang up and look around. “Harry!”

“What’s up, gorgeous?”

“Jack’s throwing up! We need to get home!”

You rush out of the party without saying goodbye and Harry follows you. You jog as fast as you can, bypassing teenagers out still trying to get candy. Harry was right behind you. You burst through the door and find Becca cradling Jack to her.

“Mumma!” He cries.

“Becca, I am so sorry.” You take Jack from her. “Was it just the one time?”

“Yeah, I stripped his bed and threw everything in the wash. I put new pj’s on him too.”

“Thank you so much.” Harry says to her. He reaches into his pocket for his wallet and pays her. “Here.”

“This is way more than-“

“For your troubles.” He smiles.

“Feel better, Jack.” Becca leaves and you look at Harry distressed.

“He’s burning up. I don’t understand he was perfectly fine earlier.”

“Tummy hurts, Mumma.”

“I know, baby.” You kiss his forehead. “Harry, can you open up a ginger ale, I have the caffeine free kind in the fridge.”

“Yeah.”

He opens it and puts a straw in. He holds it up for Jack.

“Slow sips, honey.” You look at Harry. “I’m gonna run him a bath, I think he’s scared from getting sick. He should sleep with us tonight too.”

Before Harry can say anything you take Jack upstairs. He follows you up to the bathroom and stops you from starting the bath.

“What are you doing?”

“He doesn’t need a bath, look at him he’s falling back asleep. Maybe the candy we let him have didn’t agree with his stomach.”

“But his forehead.”

Harry grabs a thermometer from the cabinet and puts it in his ear.

“See, no temp. He’s probably just sweaty.”

“I want him to sleep with us.”

“Okay.”

Harry scoops Jack up and gets him tucked into your bed while you remake his. You get your costume off and look at Harry.

“Aren’t you going to change?”

“I, uh, was havin’ a pretty good time at the party…” He rubs the back of his neck.

“You want to leave?”

“Well…he’s fine, right?”

“Right.”

“And you’re probably tired anyways, so you’ll stay here with him, and-“

“And you’ll go have fun.”

“Y/N.” He sighs. “We haven’t had a night out in forever, Niall’s party is still goin’ on, I’d like to go back for a bit. Why does this need to be a big thing?”

“It’s not. Goodnight.” You turn the light off and leave him standing in the dark.

He knew he should probably stay, but he was sort of buzzed and wanted to go fuck around with his friends. So he walked back to Niall’s. Everyone asked what happened and he explained that Jack just had a stomach ache, and you were handling it. He had the fun he was looking for, and headed back to the house a couple of hours later. When he got up to the bedroom he saw Buster sleeping in his spot on the bed.

“Don’t you dare move him.” You whisper.

“He’s in my spot.”

“Not your spot tonight.”

“Where would you like me to sleep then?”

“Anywhere but this bed, Harry Styles.” You huff and roll over.

He groans, but doesn’t want to wake Jack up, so he goes down the hall and passes out in the guest room. The other one was slowly being turned in your little girl’s nursery. The next morning he gets up and hears you giggling with Jack.

“You scared me, wasn’t very nice.” He hears you say to Jack. He leans against the door frame to watch you.

“Sorry, Mumma.”

“I don’t think we’ll be having candy before bed again.”

“Okay.” Jack snuggles up to you and rubs your belly like how Harry does all the time. “Morning baby sister.”

“Good morning big brother.” You say and stroke his head. You look up and see Harry standing and frown at him. “Look, Jack, it’s Daddy.”

“Daddy!” Jack bounces off the bed and runs over to Harry. “Pancakes? Please!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll make pancakes. Want pancakes, Mummy?”

You simply stand up and go into the bathroom. Harry sighs and whistles for Buster. He lets him out in the backyard, and gets Jack washed up for the morning. He sets Jack in his booster seat while he whips up the pancakes. He cuts them up for him and sits down to watch him eat.

You come down fresh as a daisy. Your hair was done and you had make up on.

“What are you all dolled up for?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You scoff.

“I get it, you’re upset because I went back to the party, but-“

“I’m upset because you didn’t even seem to care that our son could have had the flu or something!” You take a deep breath. “I’m going out.”

“Where?” You blink at him. “When will you be back?”

“Funny, you didn’t say when you’d be back from the party. I didn’t fall asleep until you strolled in after midnight.”

“Y/N, I need to know where you are, come on.”

“I’m going to have brunch with the girls. I don’t know when I’ll be back. You don’t really seem to care about your pregnant wife, so please don’t pretend like you do.”

You give Jack a kiss on the top of his head, and out the door you go.

“I think today’s gonna be a chore day, Jack. Uh…Mummy likes when we help out.”

“Okay.” The boy shrugs and finishes up his pancakes.

Your brunch with Sarah and Rachel was much needed. They were on your side, but they also helped you see Harry’s side of things. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to go be with his friends, but you were pissed at the way he went about it. It was good for you to let off some steam. The three of you go to the mall and they help you pick out some new maternity outfits.

When you get home the house is quiet. You go out back and see Jack playing on the swing set, Buster sitting in the shade, and Harry mowing the lawn. He had to have done this on purpose, he knew it was your weakness. He had his yard sneakers and jeans on, that was it. Oh, and his red bandana to hold his hair back. You look at Jack who also had a bandana to hold his hair back.

“Mumma!” Jack exclaims and runs towards you.

“Hi, precious, are you having fun with Daddy?”

“Mhm.” You pick him up and adjust him to your hip.

Harry stops the mower and comes over to you. He guzzles down the water he left outside for himself.

“A bit cold to be shirtless, don’t you think?”

“We raked the leaves first, I’m sweatin’ my ass off with all this yard work.” He huffs.

“Ohh, Jack you helped Daddy with the leaves?”

“Mhm, I’m a big boy.” You burst out laughing and kiss his cheek. You set him down and he runs back over to the swing set.

“A big boy, huh?”

“It was the only way I could get him to help.” He rolls his eyes. “He did look cute with his little rake, I have to say.”

“Looks cute with the bandana too.”

“He whined until I put it on him. Said he wanted to look just like me.”

“Hopefully he won’t feel the same about the tattoos.” You smirk.

“I feel really bad about last night. I shouldn’t have gone back out.”

“Perhaps I also overacted.”

“You didn’t, I was being an asshole.”

“I was just more upset that something could have been wrong with him and you didn’t care.”

“I did care, but I was trying to stay calm. I could see you freaking out, I was trying to keep the situation handled. He was fine.”

“I know.”

“Did you have fun with the girls?” He wraps his arms around you.

“Yes.”

He leans into kiss you, but gets interrupted.

“Don’t be gross, Daddy.” Jack tugs on Harry’s pant leg.

“I think it’s time for your nap.” Harry picks Jack up and he fusses with him, but ultimately settles.

You’re sitting on the couch with Buster when Harry comes back down.

“I need to finish the lawn.”

“Okay.”

“When I come back in, though, can we make up?”

“I’d like that.” You blush slightly as you smile at him.

He smirks and goes back out to finish up the lawn. You look around and see he did a bit of tidying up. You were grateful. When he comes inside he uses the t-shirt in his back pocket to wipe his face.

“I know yeh showered already, and you look so pretty, but-“

“How about a bath?”

Harry perks up and practically sprints up the stairs. He gets it going and you put your hair up to not get it wet. Once it’s time to get in, you sit in front of him, and he wraps his arms around you. He gives you kisses on the back of your neck and shoulders. He peppers kisses to your cheek and it makes you giggle. You both sort of lost track of time while you were in there. Harry was just about to start rubbing your clit when you heard the pitter patter of feet. Both of your eyes grow wide when you see the mop of curls standing in front of you. You both used to bring Jack into the bath with you all the time, but he was starting to get a little big for that now.

“Tubby?” He asks, rubbing his eyes.

“Uh, yeah, Jack, Mummy and Daddy needed a tubby.” Harry says. “You know, you should really stay in your room and wait for us.”

“Had to wee, Daddy.”

“Did you make it to the potty?” You ask him.

“Yes.” He beams.

“Good. Jack, why don’t you color in your room until we’re done, okay?” You tell him.

“Okay!” You hear him run down the hall to his room.

“Alright.” You sigh and look back at Harry. “We can continue this later.”

“He can color on his own for a bit.”

“I’m nervous about him swallowing a crayon or something.”

Harry hums in agreement and helps you up. You both get cozy in some sweats. You both color with Jack for a bit before getting him his after nap snack. Harry whips up a strifry for dinner while you do some grading. You both put your baby boy to bed. Harry reads him a story and does all of the funny voices Jack likes. Even with the tension this morning, it was a nice day as a family.

Harry brings you to the bedroom to take advantage of the time now that Jack was asleep.

“See, this is what we should be doin’ instead of watchin’ TV.”

You giggle as he kisses on you.

“You’re right. I’ve been needy for you for hours.”

“Really?” He smirks.

“Mhm.” You wrap your arms around his neck.

“Well, let’s just take care of that, shall we?”

#my everything #take it slow sequel #harry styles #harry styles series #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #dad!harry #smut #fluff #angst #reblogs and feedback are helpful #pls tag if you reglog

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toe-ruoikawa · 4 years

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summer loving- an oikawa x reader smau/classic fanfic ABANDONNED

3. The Diner

(y/n) runs - or, well, bikes - to the miyagi prefecture during summer break to escape her stifling family. while she's out in miyagi, she meets a cute boy named oikawa tooru.

taglist

@theshirleygamer @mikkasquare @krxstynnn @90s-belladonna @ayaeushi @dearkozume @heavenini @thats-kinda-sketchy @pyblos @yacoka (ur bio said u moved lol) @pnkcts @yikes-buddy @ochabby @michelepiekenma @namyari @pleasemelafook-outta-ere @neonghxst @lustingfor5sos @sayoomi @birdiewolf @sorrythatspussynal

yeah, you loved suga's mom probably more than your own, but without suga there to actually create a bridge between the two of you, your conversations were dull and awkward, and you had left the house as soon as you thought she wouldn't mind.

for a few hours you had gone around the town, taking pictures of whatever seemed pretty to you. you had taken at least 50 by the time afternoon rolled around. that's kind of your thing; photos.

your camera roll was full of gorgeous landscapes-rolling hills and swaying trees, gigantic buildings and fluffy clouds, delicate flowers and creeping vines. it was a shame that you had lost some of your best shots when you had gotten rid of your old phone, but at least now you have a clean slate to fill all over again.

you're just finishing up a mini shoot of some train tracks when it hits you.

the single most delicious smell in the entire world hits your nose, and you almost black out it's so wonderful. it smells like frying oil and ice cream, and you almost cackle in glee because you had brought money for food and you just found the best place to spend it.

following your nose like a bloodhound, you start to walk past all the cute little buildings that had served as background for your railroad pictures. the smell keeps getting stronger, mixing and dividing into similar, more specific scents, like french fries and fried chicken. you feel your artist heart squeal with excitement as you round the corner on the block and find yourself in front of a cute American-themed diner.

the name of the restaurant is written over the door in fluorescent green lights, and there are similar signs hung in the windows of the diner. as the sky gradually darkens, you can tell that this is your photographer paradise. the booths in the diner are bustling with people who you swear are all smiling, and there's a bar where a few loners and couples sip at their extra thick milkshakes, with the overflow cup on the side. you haven't even set foot in the building and you could bet away your life's savings that the floors are checker tiled.

"ah," you don't even realize you've gone into the diner until the bell at the door jingles above your head, and you just gaze at it in dreamy shock. your feet are pulled to a red leather stool at the counter where you sit and swivel around a few times.

"what can i get to get you started?"

you swear you almost die when you see the outfit the waitress is wearing. the entire retro vibe of the restaurant has your artist heart weeping tears of bliss and the uniforms are just icing on the cake.

you order your favourite flavour of milkshake and a side of fries and then glance at your phone to see what you've missed from suga.

you don't really ever understand most of his vague volleyball tweets. from what you can gather, the team is a bunch of hooligan children that suga babysits, with the help of daichi, who you only know through suga's texts.

seeing as you don't even want to know what watermelon and hills have to do with volleyball camp, your thoughts drift to your other best friend, aki. you had blocked her with your new twitter account so there would be no chance of her stumbling across it, but you couldn't help but feel a wave of guilt as you look at her account. she's probably the closest thing you have to a sister, which is why you had to leave her behind, too.

sisters are lovely but they're also snitches.

you put your phone face down as the waitress from earlier reappears, setting down a plastic basket full of fries and a milkshake, as well as a large metal cup filled with refill milkshake. ah, the glory of retro american diners. you're about to dig in when the bell rings and you hear laughter from someone your age.

the idea that it could be someone that recognizes you jumps into your head and you spin around in your swivel stool so quickly that you almost launch yourself off of it. in your commotion your eyes lock onto the warmest brown eyes you’ve seen in your entire life and you swear time slows.

they belong to a cute brunette, who has come to the diner with a group of friends. he is quick to look away, playing it off like he had been glancing around the restaurant. he waves to the waitress, who smiles bashfully, and follows his friends to a booth table that you know by the way they are drawn to it is undeniable their booth.

the boy with the warm eyes does another sweep over the diner as his group settles down, and as the chocolate irises linger on you, you realize that you’ve been staring at him the whole time.

flustered and feeling heat rise to your face, you jerk yourself back around in the seat so you’re facing your meal and take a long sip of your milkshake. ignoring the sting in your skull from the sudden cold, you flip your phone around and quickly open your texts.

taking a deep breath and steeling yourself for the embarrassment you’re about to undergo willingly, you turn around in your swivel stool.

much to your bewilderment, the boy is already staring at you.

he waves at you and you freeze for a moment, taking in his dark hair and his huge, intelligent brown eyes that are gazing right back into yours, and then you offer him a small smile and meek wave of your own hand. the lazy smile that had stretched across his face brightens in return.

instead of earlier when he had entered the diner, now the boy seems content to keep eye contact with you, and, with each quickened beat of your heart, you feel yourself becoming more and more comfortable with his gaze in yours.

you almost start to daydream when one of his buddies elbows him, clearly jiving him by the way the other boys are laughing. he turns his attention to them exclaiming something you don’t hear that makes the booth burst out into raucous teenage guffaws.

coming to your senses, you’re certain your face must match the shade of red on the ketchup bottle that you clumsily dump on your fries. you shoot suga a few more texts, stuffing a handful of fries in your mouth to keep yourself from squealing.

the mere idea that this beautiful and pretty boy might even consider to be interested in you has your heart melting in purpley yellow puddles of pure simp essence and your brain turning into honey. you find yourself slurping down the rest of your milkshake in an attempt to beat back the steady blush that burns on the apples of your cheeks and the tips of your ears.

sadly, whenever you turn to look back at the booth the boys are eating in, he never has his attention turned on you. you know there’s a chance that you’re just not catching him at the right moments, but as his laughter continues fills the space throughout the evening, your certainty that your shared gaze was a one time occurrence grows.

eventually, disheartened and a tad embarrassed, you give up on trying to catch the boy’s attention again. you pay for your meal before going to the washroom.

when you return, the group had left. disappointed in yourself, you’re trudging over to the door when you notice a turquoise and white jacket laying in the seat of the booth.

“excuse me, but the group that was sitting here earlier just left, right?” you call out to the waitress that had served both you and the group.

“huh?” the waitress looks up from the table she’s wiping down. “oh, yeah. they’re gone. did matsukawa leave his jacket again?”

“yeah, i guess,” you shrug. an idea pops into your romance driven brain, and for once you don’t wave it away immediately. “if you don’t mind, i could run it out to him. i’m leaving anyways.”

“that’d be a big help, sweetie, thank you!” the waitress graciously accepts your offer and then turns back to the table she’s cleaning.

you’re exiting the diner with a ring of the bell overhead, turquoise and white track jacket in hand with the words ‘aoba johsai’ printed on the back, when you stumble into a wall of warm fabric.

“woah there!” the voice you’ve been tuned to for the past hour replies, and the cute boy’s grabbing your shoulders gently to steady you. you gaze up into the calf’s eyes that you had been so fixated earlier, and they focus back on you for a brief moment, before trailing to the jacket in your arms. “oh, look! you’ve got mattsun’s jacket.”

“oh, yeah, here,” you hand the boy the jacket, only now realizing how much he towers over you in such close proximity. despite how that thought makes your heart race, you jump at the chance to get to know the boy a bit more. “so you’re not matsukawa, then?”

he laughs, not unpolitely, throwing his head back the slightest bit. “no, i’m oikawa tooru.” he fixes you with a sunny smile, like you’ve surprised him in the best way possible, and it’s like you’ve never realized how gorgeous a smile could be.

“(l/n), (y/n),” you grin back. “so oikawa-san, what’re doing here coming back for a jacket that’s not even yours?” on the inside, you’re practically screaming; when did you become so bold?

“well,” his grin turns sheepish. “i meant to ask you for your number earlier but iwa-chan kept breaking my train of thought, so i figured i could try again now.”

“oh, thank god you’re asking,” you let a sigh of relief as you pull out your phone. “i wanted to ask you earlier, too, but i chickened out.”

the two of you exchange phones and enter your numbers in a new contact, while oikawa makes a little joke about your default wallpaper, which you laugh a little too hard at.

“let’s go out sometime this week!” oikawa says as his words of parting, and you hum in agreement, waving goodbye.

once you’re far away enough from oikawa, you check your phone as if making sure the contact is real. you giggle once you realize what he’s put as his name. maybe this summer won't be so bad after all.

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janeykath318 · 4 years

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Darcy and the Prince (Shieldshock)

“I’m going to be so happy when this is over and we can all get on with our lives,” grumbled Darcy, as she helped her friend into her very beautiful white wedding dress, fit for the princess Jane was about to become. Jane had met the Asgardian Prince Thor while visiting the country on a science quest (as Darcy referred to her research trips) and the two had, against all odds, fallen head over heels in love and became engaged a year later. Despite the meddlings, of Thor’s troublemaking brother Loki, they’d made it to the wedding day and Darcy was playing bridesmaid and generally trying to keep Jane from going full bridezilla.

“Hmm, maybe you’ll be singing a different tune once you’ve met some of Thor’s friends,” Jane suggested, as she was buttoned up. “He knows a lot of attractive, single, people.”

Darcy rolled her eyes and grimaced as she worked on the last few buttons.

“Ugh. NO, JANE. I do not need that drama in my life right now. I’m gonna finish my masters, then go globe-trotting and enjoy being single and free. Men are more trouble than they’re worth.”

“Sometimes I want to wring Ian’s neck for what he did to you,” Jane said vehemently. Darcy’s last boyfriend had turned out to be an utter cheating scum and she’d ended up with a broken heart, hence her general annoyance with men.

“Thor and I got our revenge,” Darcy said, smiling at the memory. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to trust again. Don’t be sad, Janie. I’m super happy to have you and Thor and Eric as buddies. Now, let’s get finished so we can get you down that aisle!”

Before she knew it, Darcy was preceding Jane down the aisle and trying not to start bawling. She was a shameless wedding weeper and knew it would be even worse this time since it was her best friend getting married.

As she blinked rapidly, she took a glance up front where a beaming Thor was standing, along with several other very striking, very well dressed men. She caught the eye of a gorgeous blonde decked out in full prince uniform and he smiled at her, which did funny things to her insides and it took all her self control to not stare at him through the whole ceremony.

Of course, by the time the happy couple kissed and was announced as husband and wife, Darcy could barely see through her tears and just hoped she’d grabbed the right man’s arm to walk her back down the aisle.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled to her unknown escort. “I always weep an embarrassing amount at weddings and these dresses NEVER have pockets to stash tissues in.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” a very pleasant voice answered. “I admit, I shed some tears as well. Luckily, I always carry a back up handkerchief. Here.”

A soft cloth was pressed into her hand, and Darcy gratefully accepted it, finally managing to wipe the tears away. Vision cleared, she was able to see her helpful person and let out a gasp as she saw it was the gorgeous blonde princey dude. Up close, it was clear she’d grabbed the arm of Prince Steven, one of the most swooned over royalties to ever grace the papers.

“Wow, thanks, your highness,” she said breathlessly. “I’m afraid this thing is ruined. It looks like my waterproof mascara is not actually waterproof.”

She held up the handkerchief, which was now smeared with black streaks.

“Don’t worry about it,” Prince Steven said, pretty blue eyes crinkling in a smile. “Like I said, I’ve got extra.”

“You’re the best,” Darcy blurted, then turned red. “Ohmm….. I’m gonna go repair the damages before they start the pictures. Will you let Jane and Thor know where I’ve gone? It should only take a few minutes.”

“Sure,” the Prince said kindly. “And please, call me Steve.”

Darcy ventured to look back at him, and saw nothing but genuine friendliness in his kind eyes. She fell a bit in love right there.

“Nice to meet you…...Steve,” she managed, a tad shyly. “I’m Darcy, by the way.”

“Lewis?” he asked, recognition appearing in his expression.

“The very same,” she confirmed. “I take it Thor’s mentioned me?”

“He sure has,” Steve answered. “He calls you his lightning sister and is frequently expounding on your wit, brains, and beauty. I’d have to agree with him. You are stunning.”

Darcy felt herself blush like a tomato.

“You’re one to talk, Prince GQ,” she sassed, to cover up her internal freak out over his compliment. “Be right back!”

With that she picked up her skirts and swished off to the restroom, leaving Steve looking after her with great amusement and interest. Darcy Lewis was a very strikingly lovely woman and the blue dress she was wearing greatly flattered her figure and emphasized her bright blue eyes. Thor had tried to set him up with her before, but Steve had stubbornly refused. Now that he’d met her, He thought he’d been an idiot.

“Are you well, Darcy?” Thor inquired, when she had rejoined the others.

“Yeah. My mascara betrayed me and made me start looking like one of those goth rock stars,” she told him. “That’s the Last time I use THAT brand. Congratulations, by the way.”

She offered up hugs to the happy couple, before they were whisked away for pictures with the official royal photographer.

Spotting Steve, she casually strolled over and watched a bit as he talked to a group of individuals, who must have been his friends, because he looked so much more relaxed and was laughing and smiling in a very jovial manner. He kept his public persona very buttoned up and stiff, so seeing him like this was utterly fascinating and Darcy was becoming more and more attracted every minute. She chatted with Bruce Banner for a little bit, then helped Jane manage her train in between shots.

They were so cute together, it was almost sickening. Thor looked at Jane like she was his whole universe and Jane looked at Thor like he was the only man in existence.

“I want to look at someone the way she looks at him,” Darcy murmured, half to herself, half to the blue and gold clad figure who had joined her.

“Me too,” Steve agreed, sounding very wistful.

“Shouldn’t be that hard for you, dude,” she pointed out.

He chuckled ruefully, blushing a bit.

“I’ve discovered there’s a big difference between starstruck lust, and real love and I haven’t seemed to find the latter yet. Most of them aren’t interested in getting to know the real me at all.”

“That’s sad,” Darcy told him. “You seem like you’d be very interesting, once you get past the whole princely trappings and regal persona. Tell me, Steve, what makes you tick?”

Steve turned to look at her, and she felt like the blue eyes were piercing through her, searching for something. Whatever he saw, it must have eased his mind, because he took a deep breath and started talking.

“For one thing, I’m very passionate about using my position to do as much good as I can, not be just some stuffed shirt figurehead,” he told her. “I’m also very fond of the arts and am in the process of starting an art school for underprivileged kids. I’m hoping they’ll let me teach, because I love to draw and paint.”

“That’s awesome,” Darcy said warmly, giving him an approving nod.

“I also love dogs and help out at the shelters whenever I can.” He continued. “They’re so much more pleasant than dealing with parliament.”

Darcy laughed at the distaste in his voice, but never got a chance to say anything else, because duty called. They shared a few looks across the room, and Steve shamelessly winked at her once when she pretended to strike a diva pose.

They didn’t get close enough to actually talk again until the reception, when he sauntered up to Darcy as she was giggling at a ridiculous archery joke Clint had made.

“Excuse me. Darcy, would you care for a dance?” He asked, holding out a white-gloved hand.

“Y-you’re asking me?” Darcy squeaked.

“I don’t see any other Darcys around here, unless one of you has something to tell me,” Steve said dryly, squinting at Clint, Natasha, and Bruce, all of whom knew him.

“Nope, not it,” Clint said, shaking his head.

“She’d love to,” Nastasha answered, giving Darcy a nudge forward.

“Yeah, I would, “ Darcy managed, taking the offered hand nervously. Steve’s hand closed around hers and she felt a tingle up her spine.

She was in a dreamy daze as the prince expertly guided her around the floor. It was clear his princely education had included good dance technique and he was absolutely courtly about it.

“Now, Darcy, it’s your turn to tell me what makes YOU tick,” he said after a few minutes of silently gazing at her.

“Well, I live fueled by coffee and sarcasm, I majored in political science, and I’m not afraid to use my taser on creeps and jerks,” she told him proudly. “Also, I may have a thing for tall blonde princes.”

“Is that so?” He asked, a dangerously flirty tone in his voice.

“Yup,” she admitted. “Which is a little inconvenient seeing as how I’ve sworn off men.”

“That is too bad,” Steve agreed. “Any chance of possibly changing your mind?”

“I’ll certainly let you try,” she told him, struggling to keep her mind from its fantasies about his magnificent broad shoulders and muscular arms.

“Good,” Steve said, with another one of his stunning smiles. (If he kept doing that, there was no way she would be able to hold out long.)

“You look like you’re already planning your persuasive tactics,” she told him.

“Well, they don’t call me The Prince With A Plan for nothing,” Steve said, twirling Darcy around dramatically. Yeah, she was in SO much trouble.

#shieldshock #royalty AU #steve is a prince #and a swoonworthy one at that #darcy lewis #steve rogers #steve x darcy #i can't help myself

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more-miserables · 4 years

Text

Here We Go: Yates and Ginger on the Run

Hi this is actually @cubeswhump editing on April’s blog. That’s why there’s a title, and why it’s so bad.

So this is a collab with moi, Cube. We’ve had this planned since even before April’s first whump fic.

Warning for abuse, death, institutionalized slavery, vomiting, trauma response.

The life of a runaway was far from glamorous. Ginger remembered daydreaming while he scrubbed endless floors and windows, picturing himself living with Yates in a calm, peaceful woodland, cradled every night by the soft ferns and leaf litter.

The city wasn’t calm or safe. Ginger didn’t stop running for a long time, hauling Yates along, until they were both gasping and red in the face. They dipped into a dark alleyway and Ginger ripped off his collar right away, grinning. It felt liberating. He tossed it away gleefully.

“Get rid of yours too,” he told Yates.

Yates didn’t react. His eyes were blank, though a steady stream of tears were pouring down his flushed cheeks. Ginger went to remove Yates’s collar himself, sighing. Yates didn’t fight him off, but he whimpered.

“Look, you can keep it if you really want to. You just can’t wear it, or it’ll be obvious we’re runaways.” He balled up the collar and stuffed it into Yates’s pocket.

They camped out in the alley that night, curled together under a nest of old newspapers - and that’s where they stayed for the next few days. Yates stayed in his weird catatonic funk, so it was Ginger who had to find them food and clothes and some sort of housing. It was harder than he’d thought. He knew so little about the outside world now. He learned to hang around market stalls, snatching at their displays and then running off with whatever loot he’d managed to grab.

He couldn’t properly treat his burned palm now. He couldn’t even wash it properly. It soon grew more painful than ever, weeping through the grubby bandages. Then Ginger woke with a fever, and he couldn’t drag himself up to go find food. Yates snapped out of himself enough to cradle Ginger’s burning head in his lap, stroking his hair.

Ginger peered up at Yates’s pale, grubby face through the fever haze. How would Yates manage if he died now? Maybe Stanley really was dead. Maybe they’d lock Yates up. He didn’t know if pets who committed crimes were refurbished or incarcerated. He pictured Yates stuck in prison all alone, crying for him. He couldn’t die. He could fight off anything. He had to.

The first time Ginger heard it, he was emerging from a dream where he was being chased by something bulky, heavy. Clomp, clomp. It continued when he woke up but softer. They huddled together frightfully, but the sound became smaller and smaller.

When it came again the next night, Ginger dared to look, and blanched when the figure looked back. It was gone the next night, but the night after that the clomps paused much too close to their hideout. And then they resumed, coming right toward them.

“What is that?” Ginger gasped.

“Maybe it’s the police,” Yates said shakily. “Because I’m a murderer.” He gave a little sob.

“You’re not. Stanley just fell,” Ginger declared.

“Shh!”

The footsteps stopped right in front of them, and a bright light shone in their faces. When Ginger dared give his fiercest glare through his fever-flushed face and squinting, he met big, blue eyes and shimmering glitter.

"Aha! Thought so," said this odd girl, long, black hair nearly touching their faces as she bent right over them.

“Go away! I… I’ve got a weapon,” Ginger lied as savagely as possible.

“Do you?” Yates gasped. “Where’d you get that?”

Ginger sighed heavily.

The snort was too loud for the girl. She set her phone down on the dirty ground, its flashlight shining toward the sky, and sat right in the alleyway with them in her clean jeans.

"Hiya there, Tweedledee and Dum." Her accent was on the brink of familiarity but impossible to place, and nothing like those of Stanley or Ivy or anyone at the facility. "Don't make those faces. We're comrades."

“Those aren’t our names. You must be mistaking us for someone else,” Ginger said.

Her face changed to something between a laugh and a grimace. "Righto. Mister and Mister fifty-sixty-ten?"

“That’s… not quite our number,” Yates whispered.

“Shh!” Ginger hissed. “Don’t tell her.”

She paused, tilting her head, then rolled back the sleeve of her big coat.

"See this?" she asked, tapping on one of the big, green serpentine creature wrapping all around her forearm. The sparkly nail touched upon a segment covering her inner wrist. Ginger rubbed his eyes, trying to see clearly. His vision had been wobbly for a while now. She pointed the flashlight at it.

He frowned. “There’s nothing there..?”

"'Xactly. Numbers aren't forever, love," she said, the bright light dancing around as she pulled her sleeve back down over the tattoo.

“You mean you were one of us?” Yates asked.

"Bingo," she said, pointing at him. "C'mon, up up. You can get warmed up at my place while I make a few calls, yeah?"

She paused, head tilting to one side. She added, "You're probably not too keen on trusting a stranger, one of your own or not, but Little Red here ain't lookin' so hot, and I don't think you've many options."

“He isn’t,” Yates said desperately. “I can’t get his temperature to go down. Can you really help us?”

"Yep, sure. You able to walk, Little Red?" She stood up, shining her phone at him. The light also illuminated the height of the platforms of her weather-inappropriate shoes, and it was clear what the clomping was.

“I dunno. Haven’t tried in a couple of days.” Ginger shakily got to his knees, and Yates helped him up the rest of the way.

"You got it?" she asked.

“I think so.” He paused. “Why’d you wear shoes like that? They look uncomfortable.” Neither Yates nor Ginger had shoes at all, their bare feet cut and filthy.

"Uniform, of sorts. I don't feel like carrying an extra pair of shoes to put on when I'm done with work."

“What job makes you wear shoes like that?”

"Tell ya later," she said, unzipping her jacket and tossing it to them. Despite the chill, she seemed fine in the tank top underneath. "Anyway, I'm Jamie. You guys got any name preferences for yourself?"

Yates opened his mouth, but Ginger shook his head quickly. Maybe Stanley’s “accident” had been on the news. They didn’t want to be tied to his surname. “Not anymore,” Ginger said.

She seemed more cautious when they entered a neighborhood, looking at the windows of all the houses. It was nothing like Stanley's neighborhood, junker cars in tiny driveways and people shouting with open doors.

"Well, that's something to think about. You've got plenty of time though."

“We shouldn’t be out in the open,” Ginger hissed. He was still trying to look threatening, though that was difficult to pull off when he was leaning heavily on Yates just to stay standing.

"No duh, but we don't have much of a choice," she muttered, pulling out a smartphone and typing away on it. "My house isn't far from here."

“Who are you texting? You’re not turning us in, are you? Is this a trick?”

"Can you read? Genuine question, I know lots of us can't. I'll show you the conversation, I'm just telling my mate we're havin' company."

“I… a little bit. He can’t.” He pointed at Yates. “I’m not good at… being us.”

She held the phone out to Ginger, showing a text conversation with someone called Vivi:

Get bread read a green bubble, and then, And strawberries.

The following white bubble said: I'm already on our street. Needy cunt.

There was another white bubble with a later timestamp, seemingly unrelated to the previous exchange: Bringing some blokes over.

Green: Wtf - followed by a crying face emoji.

White: Chill, they're cool.

“What’s this word?” Ginger asked, pointing to the Wtf message. “There’s no vowels. Why doesn’t it have vowels?”

"Acronym or anagram or something. Each letter stands for a different word, in this case it means 'what the fuck'."

“Oh. She doesn’t seem too pleased that we’re coming.”

"She's shy, not angry. She'll just hide in her room," Jamie said, pocketing her phone. And she walked down an empty driveway, not allowing them much time to process this response.

“This is your house?” Ginger asked. He sounded relieved but breathless, his face waxy pale and sweaty.

"Yep. Mi caso- casa, su casa," she said, trying the doorknob before patting her pockets for the key. She swung it open and kicked off her shoes very loudly, both thumping against a stained wall. She was about the same height as Yates now, possibly smaller if she washed out her hairspray.

"Hey Vivs!" she yelled to no one in sight. Ginger winced at the noise, closing his eyes against the bright light. Everything hurt.

"You guys wanna shower?" she asked, and gestured toward the bathroom. "You should prob'ly get cleaned up and then we'll see what we can do about that fever. We prob'ly have some pyjamas that won't fit too terribly."

“I wanna sleep,” Ginger muttered. It was getting harder for Yates to keep him upright.

"Uh, sure." She gestured for him to follow as she walked into the tiny living room. The furniture was surprisingly nice, and the TV looked gigantic against the wall.

"So, do we know what's causin' the fever and general… drowsiness? I haven't heard you coughing or sniffing." Her voice never seemed to lose volume, just as loud as she disappeared through a doorway.

“I think he has an infection,” Yates said. “He’s got a terrible burn and we couldn’t get it properly treated.”

She appeared again with two glasses of water, setting both on the silver coffee table that was squished in between the sofa and the stand the TV sat on. "Can I take a look?"

“No,” Ginger muttered, looking uncomfortable. “It’s gross.”

"Don't you want me to put somethin' on it until we can have it properly looked at?"

“Well… The bandages could use a change.”

She paused. "Would you be more comfortable if I gave your buddy the supplies so he can do it?"

“Yes,” Ginger said quickly. “I need him to do it.”

She disappeared in a different direction this time. Cabinets opened and closed with thumps.

"Viv, what shit do I use for an infected burn? Hey, where are bandages?"

Footsteps, this small girl impossibly loud in her bare feet. "What do I use for an infected burn and where do I find it?"

The response, if there was one, was inaudible but after some more thumping, Jamie emerged with a tube of antiseptic and bandages. "One sec, I'll get you soap and water. Oh, a towel too. Vivien says to wash first and pat it dry, then…"

She went on as she disappeared into the kitchen. Yates tried to follow her and Ginger stumbled, not expecting the movement. They ended up in a heap on the carpet.

"No, I'll get a bowl! Wait!" She reached toward them as if to just yank up two grown men, but she stopped herself. She straightened out and offered a hand instead.

Yates went to take it, but then Ginger bent over and puked on the carpet. Yates’s face crumpled and he quickly positioned himself in front of Ginger, hunching over him protectively. “I’m sorry! It’s not his fault. He’s been vomiting for the past few days.”

"Uh, yeah, that happens." She was suddenly a bit quieter, smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Yeah, I'm gonna… can I help you get him on the sofa?"

“Please. I can’t… I don’t think he can stand anymore.” Yates was near tears. “He’s been like this for a while and I hate that I can’t do anything. He tries to push himself for me but then this happens.”

The corner of her lip twitched. "I get that."

She knelt down and gripped Ginger under his arms, dragging him up. Her brows knitted together, teeth grit, but she managed to frog march him to the sofa and forced him into a sitting position. Yates sat beside him and held his shoulders when he started slumping forwards. Ginger was barely conscious now, his eyes glazed and half-closed.

The hours were a blur, soap and antiseptic and coaxing painkillers and water down Ginger's throat while he was still pliable. Jamie was all over the place but the faceless Vivien never made an appearance. By the time they’d finished, Ginger was asleep - or unconscious.

And then Yates was stirring, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. When did he fall asleep, and how long? It was almost pitch black save for a light from the hall.

After a quick check that Ginger was still breathing, he heard it: mumbled voices from down that hall. He carefully moved off the sofa, silent in his bare feet, and crept towards the noise and the light. He peered through the crack in the door.

"Just- okay," Jamie said, trying to control her volume as it started to rise. "If you're goin' to be fookin' useless, just give me David's number."

"What's she saying?" This voice was unfamiliar, and effortlessly quieter than Jamie's. "Jamie, what's she saying?"

"She thinks a phone call will put her safehouse in danger. She's worked with countless o' us and she's too chickenshit to take on a pair that's got in a bitta trouble. What? Murderer? Marianne, that's blimey unfair to call him that! Just give us David's number!"

Yates started shaking at the word. Murderer murderer murderer. Was Stanley dead then? Did people know about it already? He hadn’t really meant to push Stanley - or he hadn’t planned it, at least. When Stanley had been ranting and raving about how he was going to split him and Ginger up, something in Yates just snapped. Stanley was hovering right there, tantalisingly close to the perilous staircase. He pushed without thinking. But he’d still pushed. He was a murderer.

"Jamie, they'll hear you! You're so loud!"

"Mar, just… Vivi, can you go check on them?"

"No fear!"

Yates was trying to stay quiet, but murderer was still spinning in his head. A little whimper slipped out before he could stop it.

There was a beat of silence that seemed to last for hours.

"Hold on, gimme a sec. And you better not fookin' hang up."

The door opened slowly. A girl with a puff of frizzy brown hair and gigantic eyes stared from the bed, but she faded to the background. The girl standing before him was almost unrecognizable with her black hair lying limply and makeup washed off; no contouring giving the impression of high cheekbones, eyebrows and eyelashes almost nonexistent at a glance for they were so pale. But the voice was unmistakably Jamie.

"Hey, so you heard that. That's fair, it is your business, but… this prob'ly wasn't the best way to start the discussion."

“You promised you wouldn’t turn us in,” Yates gasped. He felt like all the air in the room had been sucked out, and he gasped frantically. “You said you were on our side! But now they’ll come for us and split us up.”

"No one's turnin' anyone in. Come sit down, you look ready to faint."

“I h-heard you say it. You called me murderer,” Yates whispered.

"No, I was sayin' that you're not, I know the kinda circumstances…"

“We’ve got nowhere to go,” Yates said, starting to sob frantically. “I don’t know what to do!”

"Listen, listen. There's people who help us when we escape. There are places for us to stay. And I'm tryin' to get you to one of these safehouses so you'll be safe."

“You promise?” Yates wept. “You won’t split us up either?”

"No way. Vivien and I met in a safehouse, didn't we?" Jamie asked, and the frizzy-haired girl gave a jerky nod. "They're fine, way better than what we left. No owners, none o' that shit."

“Will they help Ginger’s hand?” He gasped. “Oh, I said his name!”

"Ginger?" She raised her invisible eyebrows, snorting humorlessly. "I was interchangeably Blondie and Bimbo. Yeah, they'll help him. They'll have all the right medications."

“I don’t think he likes his name much. He says we can choose our own now,” Yates said. “But I don’t think that’s allowed.”

"Come in, sit," she said, practically forcing him to sit on the bed, as Vivien retreated from the room. "Who says it's not allowed?"

“Everyone…” he mumbled. “Everyone in training and Stanley and Ivy.” Yates wasn’t too good at this lying low business.

"So? You're not pets anymore. I named me Jamie."

“Why Jamie?”

"Dunno. Felt right. Not too girly, not too boy-ee, short and simple, straight to the point."

“Did your owners name you first?”

"One, not owners. Slave drivers. Two, kind of, as I said earlier. Not a proper name, just…" She pulled a face, and put on a deeper, plummy voice. "''Come here, Blondie!' 'Don't drop that, Bimbo!'"

“Stanley called me by his surname. He could be so kind to me,” Yates mumbled, fingering the collar still in his pocket.

The phone on the bed vibrated. Jamie picked it up and looked at it as she talked. "Tell me, Curls. Should a human have possession of another human?"

“I…” He winced as his head throbbed and he reverted back to the phrases drilled into him in training. “That’s none of my concern. I just have to work diligently and follow orders.”

"Why? Why do you have to do that and not, say, Stanley? Think about it, I got this schmuck's number."

“Schmuck?” He didn’t recognise that word. Was it bad?

"I don't know the origins but yeah, it's derogatory. I like to think of it as a mix o' shit and fuck but there's an m, so I dunno."

“You have his number?” Yates started shaking again, biting his lip. What did she mean? He’d had a number before, him and Ginger. Was this David one of them too?

"Yeah? His mobile? He's this big money agent of sorts, he's not so bad actually but ya know, rich people."

“Sorry, yes, of course. It just… started to feel real,” Yates mumbled dazedly. “And you’re sure he’s good? He won’t turn us in?”

"Nah, he has a huge network for pet lib. Uh, pet liberation. He helps us get free. He doesn't run a safehouse, he's too much in the public eye so he'd get caught, but he, like, funds a bunch and I think his son runs one. If I ring him he'll know where to place you."

“Can’t we just stay here with you?” Jamie was the first person to treat them kindly since… well, as long as Yates could remember.

"You can come and visit, I'd love that. We're mates now, right? But you guys need medical care, therapy, shit you won't get here. Plus I work nights six days a week and Vivien, much as I love her, won't be a great hostess to you two."

“But we can visit? Definitely?”

"Yeah, and if David tells me where you are I'll visit too."

Yates smiled; it was very weak, but it was his first real smile in days.

It was almost peaceful - almost - with the orange-pink light of the rising sun filling the room, a steaming cup of watery hot chocolate in his hands, a cartoon playing on the TV, him and Ginger getting a good night of sleep for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. The anxiety was still there as Jamie murmured to an unseen stranger on the phone, occasionally peeking out of the kitchen to check on him, and the uncertainty surrounding Ginger's fever and bandaged hand.

Jamie came out at last, the rectangular outline of her phone in her baggy pyjama pants. She grinned and gave him a thumbs up, perching on the arm of the couch.

“Is it all fixed?” he whispered, hardly daring to hope.

"Yep. Says he'll be sendin' someone promptly, his words. Hopefully you get someone fun, my Marianne was such a fussy grandma."

“I don’t think Ginger would like fussy people.”

"Let's cross our fingers, bud." She crossed her fingers for him to see. "But you won't be placed with anyone bad, I promise."

“Okay…” Yates still didn’t look too sure. He stuck close to Jamie, following her around like a puppy. He jumped violently when there was a soft knock on the door sometime later.

Jamie glanced toward the door, and over at Yates.

"Think that's your ride."

#whump #bbu #box boy universe #box boy multiverse #male whumpee #female caretaker #no whumper #multiple whumpees #burns #tw abuse #abuse tw #injury #emeto tw #tw emeto

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kinetic-elaboration · 4 years

Text

September 25: 1x16 The Galileo Seven

I took a half day off today and had a three hour nap in the afternoon. Now I’m feeling, I think, better?? Perhaps?

Anyway, today’s ep is The Galileo Seven, aka capitalizing on Spock’s popularity time.

Hmm, a vague and undefined phenomenon perfect for scientific study--Spock will love this. (Aka Kirk’s real reason for investigating the quasar. Just a little gift for the bf.)

Yeah Shuttlecraft Galileo! I love the shuttlecrafts; I think they’re adorable.

New Paris Colony.

The Commissioner isn’t wrong, though, like this probably isn’t the time to go on a random exploratory mission. Ah, yes, this weird space anomaly full of unknown dangers--let’s launch our most important officers right into the center of it while we have time sensitive supplies onboard. I mean come on, there’s a plague going on!

Love the shaky movements of the shuttle as it flies through space.

Hmm they’re exploring an unknown weird space thing and something goes wrong? Who could have predicted that? Other than Boma, who’s like ‘this is actually really normal though?’

Kirk’s sigh right before the credits lol.

Uhura taking over for Spock.

Those doors looked awfully, um... not metal when they opened. But I still like the design.

This is a good episode for understanding what ‘logic’ means to Spock. Like people, including people in this ep, talk about it as if it were just being emotionless and not caring about others but it’s a whole philosophy/value system and he adheres to it pretty well.

Shuttlecraft Columbus.

Kirk has such a big headache right now. He hates having someone step on his command toes.

I love this Bones and Spock conversation. “This is your chance for command.” “I am a logical man.”

Those pants really are terrible. Everyone always on about the skirts but no one ever talks shit about those horrendous pants.

Spock gets to show off his legs standing in a V like that though lol.

Philosophy 101: The Trolley Problem.

“My choice [of who to leave behind] will be a logical one.” Stop bullshitting, Spock lol. “Idk man... logic?”

Well his decision just got easier by about 1/3.

It’s Pauna! Oh wait wrong show. Thank God.

Spock is talking about how this spear looks like something Native American but lbr it looks like a Vulcan spear and he should know. He’s the bitch with the ancient weaponry hanging on the walls of his quarters.

Spock could move the body way more efficiently, I mean he’s 3x stronger than these other fools. Look at the way he throws the spear as if it were made of cardboard. Which it is definitely, definitely not lol.

That quadrant name would make a good wifi password.

The commissioner truly has NO purpose here other than to be a human clock.

I understand Spock not wanting to waste time with the ceremonial duties of command or with burying a person while he could be working to save the people who are still alive...but I don’t believe for one moment he doesn’t know elaborate funeral services. The Vulcans love their rituals.

“We have no fuel! What alternatives?” Yeah lol that is pretty bad.

“Sensitive Vulcan ears.”

He literally just said they’re not tribal, Boma, are you not listening at all?

“I’m frequently appalled by the low regard you Earthmen have for life.”

Like Kirk always says, this isn’t a democracy.

Honestly this insubordination kinda seems like xenophobia to me in that I feel like everyone thinks it’s okay to be disrespectful to Spock because he’s an alien, because their human morality and philosophy is inherently right and Spock not following it is deserving of ire, even though he’s in command.

They’re on Spock’s back when he doesn’t seem to respect life enough and when he respects life too much like he cannot win.

Our duties to other life forms.

At least the reboots got Spock’s sass right.

I feel like Spock’s logical and emotionless responses are helpful though because I would be a straight up anxious mess. It just seems so clear to me, all the places where being unemotional is allowing him to act and keep control where a scared and confused person ruled by emotions would not be. I mean they’re all Officers and it’s not like McCoy and Boma are wandering around weeping or anything but still. Not all of Spock’s decisions are right but I’d be soothed by his attitude.

“Luck may be the only tool we have that works” reminds me of “Captain, you almost make me believe in luck.”

Kirk also makes a lot of command decisions here and it’s interesting to compare his style with Spock’s.

Loving the creature design and this is not a sarcastic comment.

“Certain scientific curiosity” about whether the crewman is dead. Sure okay.

See, I was right, he can lift and carry a grown man by himself.

That spear very much hit him lol.

Spock is upset. He lost a crewman. And logic isn’t working like it’s supposed to. I love that “They should have respected us” bit. He is a little arrogant, and for someone who’s spent most of his adult life around aliens, rather set in his idea that rational responses are the only responses.

He’s really having some revelations here. I bet he can’t wait to discuss all this with Jim.

I’ve seen that shot of Scotty just shoving a wrench in the wall and making sparks fly used in memes. Out of context it is quite hilarious.

Ugh, this is such a tightly constructed narrative. Love it.

Yeah, Boma, back off. This is just crossing a line.

“You will have your burial, provided the creatures permit it.”

Poor creatures honestly. These weird aliens keep showing up and bothering them.

This Captain’s chair is pretty wide too but Kirk manages to sit in it and look cool @ cpine.

Noooo you can’t leave them behind!

Uhura posing behind the Captain’s chair and looking at the screen like google earth always taking pictures.

Lol, space normal speed. (You’d think the Commissioner would show up at this point to be like bUt ThE pLaGuE but actually we never see him again.)

Those creatures aren’t even AIMING the spears they’re literally just throwing them parallel.

“Get us off, Scott.”

“Yes.... my first command.” Oh, Spock. I love him.

Love that Scotty’s really, genuinely proud of him. Scotty’s so Unproblematic. He really is just here to do his job and he’s never mean or causing trouble of any sort.

Jim will see the flares because he loves you!!

This poor actress playing the Yeoman has nothing to do. “Oh, it’s hot!”

Really living for Kirk’s face journey as he thinks all hope is lost and then realizes they’re (mostly) okay.

I want to hear what Kirk and McCoy are saying at the beginning of the last scene. I bet they’re talking about Spock.

Everyone gently making fun of Spock but in a ‘we love you buddy way.’ And Kirk using this, their one scene together all ep, to lay on the flirting extra thick. “Mr. Spock, you’re a stubborn man” is really pushing the flirtation meter off the charts.

They’re mocking him for making an impulsive decision but he was totally right AND he was totally logical imo? Like “you reasoned that it was time for an emotional outburst” is certainly one way to put it but another way is “the only possible chance we have of being detected AT ALL is to make a big scene and if it doesn’t work we’ll just die faster than we would have anyway” which is logical, and in fact, I think someone too caught up in their emotions might hesitate to do it. I mean, I’d probably hesitate--I think the emotional response to the situation is to want to stay alive as long as possible, even if you know--logically--that the difference between living another 6 minutes and another 26 minutes is nothing. You’d be better off giving away the chance for 20 extra minutes in exchange for a better chance of not dying at all. That’s logic bitches!

Kirk sees some hope for himself here. “Oh, Spock can follow his heart??? Perhaps... to me??”

I am not a fan of these fake laughter endings. They are so overdone lol. Uhura is literally pointing and laughing in the background. It’s not THAT funny guys.

That said if Beyond had ended with some fake laughter it probably would have improved the film substantially.

And that’s it! An excellently plotted episode, really well done on the level of craft. I really get off on that kind of thing. I know a lot of shows that can write entertaining episodes/seasons/multi-season plots but don’t have any, well, real logic to them and that’s not necessarily the worst but then when you see something that’s really just well made, it... well for me it triggers a very certain satisfaction.

Also this is easily a top 3 Spock episode. Great character stuff.

Next up is the Squire of Gothos, which I think is one of the weaker S1 episodes. Not bad, just not Classic level like almost every other ep.

#star trek tos #the year 2020 #2020: fandom thoughts #2020: star trek

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thegeminisage · 5 years

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rebl*g this and die, freaks. anti-holiday tw for uhh anyone who needs that lol

i hate i hate i HATE CHR*STMAS i hate the INSTITUTION OF GIFT GIVING it’s all about CONSUMERISM and PEER PRESSURE

i hate the EXCHANGE OF OBJECTS i hate the HOARDING OF STUFF

i got 10 gifts tonight. of those 10 gifts, i can use and/or like 4 of them. (wet cat food which was actually a gift for gracie lol, a gift card, new sheets bc mine are the wrong size, and a new office chair). those things are really nice gifts and i’m grateful! especially the office chair because mine BROKE recently and they’re expensive and hard to find (my mom and her buddy went halvsies on it)

however this leaves me 6 things i do not want and cannot use...some of them are from my mom, who really DID NOT NEED to get me SO MANY gifts because i only got her 2. (i hate the imbalance of reciprocity because i will never have enough money to get gifts for all the people that give ME gifts.) 1 of them is from my mom’s buddy. so that’s all stuff i can’t even resell at the flea market because they’d see them and get their feelings hurt and the house is already so full of stuff we don’t need or use that we can’t even have company over and every year my mom cries about how ashamed of it she is and EVERY YEAR WE ACCUMULATE MORE STUFF and i have to be polite! i have to pretend i want the stuff!

and the gifts i got that i don’t want and can’t use came from people i only see twice ever, on thanksgiving and christmas, and i barely know them, and they barely know me, and actually i don’t even LIKE some of them (and they don’t like me - got into it on FB once before i stopped visiting that site permanently).

and then we have to give the stuff! to everyone! we don’t have any money but every year at christmas we have to put together gifts for LITERALLY dozens of people - flea market people, family people, nursing home buddy people, friend circle a, friend circle b, etc etc etc

we spend all this time putting together stuff that’s either cheaply-bought & easily mass-produced (like mugs with hot chocolate) that I KNOW NOBODY ACTUALLY WANTS or stuff that we can’t really afford - my brother and i frequently get up to $100+ bucks worth of christmas gifts - again, most of which i don’t want and can’t use and which my mother CANNOT AFFORD TO GIVE US - because “it’s christmas” and we have to have a mountain of presents. THAT IS JUST CONSUMERISM

and my mother can never EVER put together that many gifts on time. NEVER. i am ALWAYS the one helping her do it. in the MIDDLE of winter when i don’t want to do anything but die, basically! for my least favorite holiday! and then when i’m not jumping for joy and excitedly doing the wrapping like santa’s good little fucking helper i get yelled at for having a bad attitude and ruining the holidays!!

and GOD FORBID. that everything isn’t picture-perfect! a speck of dirt on a mug? a crack? okay let’s toss it and get a new one. let’s scrub it. a price sticker? that’s gotta come off, residue and all. no we can’t just partially peel it. no we can’t just color over it with a sharpie

and it’s not just the gifts! i got glared at MULTIPLE times today just for opening my fucking mouth. someone says about my aunt’s dog: “aw, she’s a good dog.” me, jokingly: “good and spoiled!” and then i get the death glare. literally no one, NO ONE, was offended except my mother, not even my aunt herself, who is notoriously easily offended. i shit talk my own cats all the time! it wasn’t that big of a deal! i didn’t call anybody racist or anything! tried to tell my aunt how i found the old pictures of her dog as a puppy i got her as her gift and got SHUSHED because my mom thought i was going to inadvertently give away someone else’s gift, as if i don’t have any fucking common sense. she’s just that paranoid! that one little thing! will be ruined!

and then there’s the actual dinner which is a HUGE PAIN IN THE ASS to cook, and do the men help? never. they do good to carry the food to the table when it’s finished. they don’t help cook, they don’t help clean, they don’t even pay for the fucking groceries. they sit and watch tv!!! they talk shit about minorities and homeless people!!!!! and if i say anything then I AM THE ONE RUINING CHRISTMAS

and nobody in my family is even EXCITED OR GRATEFUL we’re all just a bunch of ASSHOLES?? so last night we spent an hour gift wrapping ten different blankets and labeling them with what color they were and today everyone picked a blanket and nobody was really excited about it. blankets are boring gifts you give to people who you don’t know well! so that whole hour was spent for 5 minutes of mediocre graditude! like what is even the point! yk at least when i get useless stuff i don’t need i give it my best college try at being

and when my mom asks me! why do you hate christmas! and i try to explain that i hate the institution of gift-giving! when i’m like, i don’t like it, it’s exhausting and expensive! she’s like well the whole point of christmas is the spirit of giving!! and [GAMESHOW BUZZER SOUND] W R O N G ! the point of christmas is CAPITALISM and PEER PRESSURE and PERFECTIONISM this shit ain’t about jesus even i, an atheist, knows that jesus would weep to see how shallow and false his bday bash is every year

and i have stayed up late MULTIPLE nights in a row wrangling GIFTS, some of which are for people i’ve never even MET, all because my mother likes to bite off more than she can chew EVERY YEAR. she has like a basket of lollipops she wants to give out at the local nursing home and she went through THREE BASKETS so that the arrangement of lollipops would be pretty. she re-wrapped my SIL’s gift because it was ugly. it doesn’t matter if she’s tired and her arthritis is killing her and she’s past her bedtime she will not stop until all the gifts look like they came from martha stewart or some shit! and they are just! going to get ripped up!

and we didn’t even have time to play giant jenga today which is the ONLY acceptable chr*stmas activity and we probably won’t have time to play tomorrow either!!!!!!!!!! stupid! the whole thing is stupid! i hate mass gift-giving! birthdays only! BIRTHDAYS ONLY. only specific people should be getting gifts at a time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CHR*STMAS IS STUPID IT IS LITERALLY THE WORST HOLIDAY AND IT LASTS FOR TWO MONTHS E V E R Y Y E A R BECAUSE GOD HATES ME PERSONALLY I GUESS chr*stmas being the longest holiday and also set in the winter is my punishment from god for being an atheist and frankly @ god fuck you too pal

#personal #OKAY I’M DONE THAT’S OFF MY CHEST #this rant brought to you by: sheer exhaustion and overwhemling frustration

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proxylynn · 5 years

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Underfell: File Name not Edgy Enough #19

Chapter 19: Progress WARNING: I WANT NO RESPONSIBILITY OVER SPOILING THINGS FOR OTHERS. THAT BEING SAID, THIS IS HOW FILE NAME NOT FOUND WOULD FUNCTION IN THE AU OF UNDERFELL. BEFORE YOU READ THIS, UNLIKE THE NICE TIME OF UNDERTALE, THIS WORLD IS KILL OR BE KILLED. THIS STORY WILL BE GRAPHIC, GORY, USE SWEARS LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS, AND DEAL WITH SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTERS. FOR EXAMPLE, THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE READ THE FILE NAME RELOCATED SPOOF WILL KNOW HOW I PICTURE THIS VERSION OF LYNSIE COMING TO THE UNDERGROUND. IT IS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT IS NOT BECAUSE OF SOMETHING DUMB. IT IS BECAUSE SHE CHOOSES TO END HER LIFE. SO TAKE THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT. I MADE IT BECAUSE I NEEDED TO LET SOME OF THIS EDGINESS OUT OF MYSELF. WHICH I GUESS MAKES UNDERFELL LYNSIE EVEN MORE TRUE TO WHO I REALLY AM. ANYWAY, ENJOY. ^_^ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Once in Sans room, I keep my word in behaving as we dine on what tastes like Papyrus's best version of lasagna to date. There is no sound during this time apart from the occasional gulp or sound of satisfaction. I let him have his peace as needed. Poor guy needs it. He puts up with so much and much of it is because of me. Some quiet time is the least I can do. "so..." He tosses his empty plate to slide across the floor. "ya got something in your pocket or are ya just happy to see me?" I suppose he's ready to chat now. I set my scraps aside and stand up with a smirk. "A little bit of both, Sansy-boy. But mostly just a surprise." I pull the bottle of mustard and shot glasses out of my pockets. He looks surprised. "heh...these types of surprises i could get used to." "I told you you'd like this." I sit down beside him and pour him a glass, making him look at me funny. "What's that look for?" "there are two glasses." "Yeah?" He snorts. "you're gonna drink with me?" I shrug. "Sure, why not. Wouldn't be the first time I've drank a condiment for the hell of it." He sniffs the glass as I pour my own. "uh...where did ya get this stuff?" "I took from one of the ones in the back of the fridge. I figured the colder the better. Why? Did it go bad?" He's still for a moment...then...he grins. "no, this is fine." He downs the glass with ease. "see? go on. try it." My prank sense is tingling but I choose to ignore it and shoot the yellow stuff down in a quick go. "Woohoo...That is tangy." "well?" "Honestly...Not bad." "how about we do a little test." "A test?" "to see if you can really handle this. how about every time i drink, you drink as well." "Dude, it's just mustard. I can handle it." He smirks as he drinks and I do the same as per his little test rule. "heh...this is gonna be a fun night." Now my foreshadow sense tingles and I put the pieces together. "This is the alcoholic mustard, isn't it?" The playful smile that teases his skull is all he needs to say. I sigh and pour us more mustard. "Well...I know I have no tolerance. But let's see if I can hold it better." He cocks his brow. "is that a challenge?" "Let's call it a test." "oh, you are so gonna regret this. there's no way in hell you can hold your own against me." "We shall see, good buddy." We clink glasses and drink. "so...was this your plan all along or did pap send ya up here?" I refill our glasses. "I came to you for many reasons. Talk is one, the drink is another, and your bro is also on the list. So what dumb thing did big mouth say this time?" He scoffs. "he was talking shit that he had no right to say, let's leave it at that." "Typical Papyrus." "yep." "Do you maybe...?" "no." "Just checking." We drink and I pour once more into our empty glasses. "so what happened with the whole mettaton calling you thing?" I swirl my glass a little. "It was awkward." "how awkward?" "Like we might need more mustard awkward." I down my drink and he shakes his head. "great. more crap to deal with." "It gets crappier." He groans and shoots his glass. "i'll be back." "More mustard?" "yep." Sans teleports and returns to his spot after a bit with armloads of mustard bottles. "is this enough to drown the awkwardness?" I blink a couple of times before smiling. "For the record, I have been told I'm a very honest drunk. So...You might get more than you bargain for." He hands me a bottle. "i think i can handle it." "No more glasses?" "get on my level, kiddo. or can you not handle it?" I glare playfully and put my glass down before taking his offered bottle. "Oh, you are so on, skele-dude. But on one condition." "what's that?" "For the rest of the night stop calling me kid or kiddo." "only if you don't call me sansy-boy." "Deal. Now...Let's drink till we don't feel feelings anymore!" "here-here!" We tap bottles together and drink. [Ten minutes later] "...So then, get this, he starts faking the call is breaking up and hangs up while saying 'see you soon'. I swear he's gonna pull some other stunt that ends with my butt in Hotland." I drink as Sans scoffs. "over my dead body." I snicker. "As a skeleton...Aren't you already a dead body?" He blanks for a moment before he stifles a chuckle. "heh...that was bad." "Whoa...Talking skeleton. You are blowing my mind." He punches my shoulder playfully. "shut up and drink, dummy." "Who are you calling dummy? I am far from being a manually articulated performative Kinesio maquette." "...i don't know if i should be impressed you can say that while drunk." "That feeling will be gone soon." "why?" "Because I think I'm tipsy enough to laugh at even the most juvenile thing." "...boner?" Mustard snorts out my nose as I was in mid-drink when he said that. "Ahhh...It burns!" He laughs his ass off as I blow the remnants onto my shirt. "Oh, you are so gonna get it now." [Twenty minutes later] "hey, mind if i try out a few bar jokes on ya? i get the feeling grillz is gonna need a distraction when he eventually sees your face." "Sure. I think we both don't want him having a meltdown." Sans chugs his third bottle a moment. "what did the bartender say after a book walked into the bar?" "I give. What did it he say?" "please, no stories." "Meh. Needs a rewrite to be a bestseller. Try again." "what did the bartender say after charles dickens ordered a martini?" "What?" "olive or twist?" I have to stop and think about that a moment. "Clever. Not sure how many would know that reference down here." "what do you get when you mix an english class with alcohol?" "Hmmm?" "tequila mockingbird." "Ah. Very nice." "then why aren't ya laughing?" "Dunno. Maybe my head is just bubbly enough that the stupid stuff makes me a giggling idiot." "so if i say the word duty...?" I snicker. "You said duty." He groans. "fine then, little miss tipsy, why don't you say some?" I shrug and drink halfway into my second bottle. "Why did Mexicans create tequila?" He eyes me a moment. "why?" "So ugly people would have a chance at having sex." He nearly chokes on his breath from that. "Too much?" "no...just...i never expect the dirty stuff from you for some reason." "But it's a good joke, right?" "yeah! tell me another one." "Oh. Okay...um...What is the difference between an alcoholic and drunk?" "what?" "A drunk drinks until they pass out. An alcoholic drinks till the house burns down with them in it." "that actually happened once down here." "Really?" "yeah. and in waterfall or all places." I giggle. "I have one more." "go for it." "Alcohol doesn't turn people into somebody they're not. It just makes them forget to hide that part of themselves." He pauses and stares at the bottle in his hand. "getting philosophical on me now?" "Maybe. Just was something that popped into my head." "meh. no biggie. they all can't be funny." "True. If every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn't have hot dogs." He looks at me funny. "are you okay?" I guzzle the remains of my bottle and drop it on the floor. "Dude, I am feeling good right now and it's awesome. Got any more jokes?" He cocks his brow and slowly hands me another bottle. "okay... a man walks into a bar and orders a shot of whiskey then looks into his pocket. he does this over and over again. finally, the bartender asks why he orders a shot of whiskey and afterward looks into his pocket. the man responded, i have a picture of my wife in there and when she starts to look good then i'll go home." The giggles leave me with ease. "That's a good one. I knew you could do it." He smiles a little. "a guy talks with his friend about his marriage. the man says, it's getting bad these days as my wife spends her evenings going around the bars of the city. the friends asks, is she an alcoholic? the man shakes his head and tells him, no she's looking for me." That got me laughing as we continue to drink. [Thirty minutes later] "what's worse than waking up at a party and finding a dick drawn on your face?" "What?" "finding out it was traced." "*giggles* Why are hurricanes normally named after women?" "heh...why?" "Because when they come they're wild and wet, but when they go they take your house and car with them." "*chuckles* how do you make a pool table laugh?" "How?" "ya tickle its balls." "*snickers* What is Moby Dick's dad's name?" "heheh...what?" "Papa Boner!" "*laughs* oh, oh, wait...i got one...what do you call a dictionary on drugs?" "*chuckling* What?" "addictionary!" We crack up like the biggest fools after six bottles each. [Forty minutes later] Ten bottles down and things are not like how this started. Not at all. "*sniffling* w-why is he such an asshole? i can't help that i have 1 HP. he doesn't have to throw it in my face." "Shhhhh...I know. He's just lashing out. He doesn't mean to hurt you." "*sniffling* then...then what is he trying to do?" I hold Sans close and rest his head on my shoulder. "I'm sure he thinks of it as a form of 'tough love'. Pushing you to do better through negativity. That, if he pushes you hard enough, you'll force yourself to do things like him. Or at least try." "but i do try! *weep* i try and i try...i try so damn hard...he has no idea what i do or what i've been going through." "Let it out, buddy. I'm here for you." He clings to me rather tightly, his claw-like fingertips digging in. Good thing I can't feel pain right now. "day after day, i work myself to the bone. for him. for all monsters. for the whole dam universe. and all i want in return is one small nod of approval or thanks. but what do i get? that's not enough, sans! work harder, sans! stop being so lazy, sans! why are you so weak, sans?! nothing i do is ever enough for anyone!" "That's not true." "yes, it is! i don't even know why i bother trying anymore. i'll never be good enough for anyone. and yet i still have this twisted hope that somehow, someday, maybe he and i will act like real brothers. but i guess that's asking for too much. because i've tried everything. no matter how many resets...i've tried to make him proud...yet i just...i can't...*sobs*" He weeps with pain and it's so pure that I can feel my own eyes water. But I do my best to fight that feeling. He needs comfort more than another sobbing mess. I pull him onto my lap and move him around to have his chest to my own, his head nestled under my own. One of my hands rubs gently along his back while the other cradles the back of his skull, my thumb rubbing small circles on the smooth bone. "Sans..." "i'm scared, lynsie!" "Of what? I know you're stronger than anyone knows. I bet all the money on Earth you can beat the likes of Asgore and Papyrus at the same time. What possibly rattles your bones?" "that's just it. i have all this power but at what price? i'm losing my mind. i see things. i have near constant nightmares. i don't even feel like a real person most days. and it terrifies me. i'm not even scared of dying anymore. i'm scared that one day i'll have taken all i can take and give up. that i'll stop caring and do something stupid. that he'll push me to my breaking point and i'll have to live with the consequences of knowing i hurt my own brother. i can't live with myself if i do that. i just can't." He's shaking like a leaf about to fall. "You won't do it." "but what if i do?" "You won't." "how do you know?!" "Because you're too nice to kill anyone. Let alone Papyrus." "i ain't nice." "Yeah, you are. Otherwise, you would've killed me in an instant when the Black Soul had me." He flinches. "I'm not saying you can't kill. Anyone can. Even small children, which I find very disturbing how easy and okay they are with doing so. But you are strong enough to NOT do it. True power is not in how you use it...but how you choose not to. That is how I know you're good and will never harm Papyrus." He's quiet now. The tears are still coming but he's dead silent. "Wow...I got mushy there. Sorry if that was weird." "..." "Sans? Come on, buddy, say something." His grip suddenly gets harsher and he sits up, sitting on my legs to look me in the eyes. "you're wrong about me." Things feel intense all of a sudden. "Oh?" "i have killed before." I tilt my head. "In the past timelines? Who?" "frisk." My thinking gears are jammed with alcoholic mustard. I got no clue where this is going. "Why?" "...they killed my brother." And just like that, my brain decides to shut down. "W-What?" "you heard me. that kid killed my brother. but not just pap. they killed everybody. even me." Trying to process this on a messed up mind hurts. "Um...b-but...They were just a kid, right? W-Why would they...?" "do ya really think i haven't asked that very question? to this day, that kid haunts me. not like you with chara. that's a whole other weird ass thing." "But..." "you said it yourself, kids are disturbingly easy with their ability to kill. is it really so hard to believe that kid could be genocidal enough to fuck up the timeline of the entire world?" "Just a little bit. But when magic is involved, it's easier to agree in the possibility than not to." "believe me. that kid...i've lost track of the number of timelines that were made and destroyed. the number of times i've had to fight that kid. the times i've killed that kid and they came back and killed me. *wearily* the times where they spared everyone and brought us to the surface...only to cruelly reset everything back to this hellhole. *sad* it wouldn't be so bad if i could forget it all like everybody else. living with all these memories. seeing the faces of people dying flash randomly before me day in and day out. never knowing if one day, any and all progress made will just be undone by the will of some fucking kid!" He's shaking so hard now, both in despair and rage. I know he hates it, but I see no other option in trying to settle him. I hug this emotional skeleton and hug him tight. I want him to feel safe. Much to my surprise, he doesn't fight this. He just goes limp against me. Feeling bad, I nuzzle his skull softly. "...what are ya doing?" "Well, I wouldn't be much of a friend if I didn't try to make you feel better." "you know i hate hugs." "Embrace the friendship, Sans. Because as long as I'm here, I'm gonna do what I can to replace those bad times with good stuff." "you're such a dork." "A dork that wants to be your best buddy. Well...second best to Grillby. I can't compete with someone so awesome." "that is true." "So? What do ya say, buddy?" He huffs into my neck. "you're only being this way because of the booze." "You know me better than to believe that. I'm just as nice without drink influence." "really?" "Okay...I'm nice to the ones I like. Better?" "...booze really does make ya honest." "Don't forget stupidly lovable." "not the words i'd used but...sure, why not." "*gasp* Really?!" "eh, you're not so bad...for a human." "Oh, Sans!" Playfully I plant a big smooch on his forehead and he snarls but it doesn't seem as threatening. "don't ruin the moment. i'm starting to actually feel better." I smile and shut my trap, returning to rubbing this back. It's really neat how he's able to fill his clothes. There is, of course, a lot of empty slack in the midsection but when you got a hollow body that's no shocker. Much like his fingertips, the ridges of his spinal bones are sharp and curve like shark fins. "mmmm...that feels nice. do ya know these bones too?" "I think I might. Just...give my head a moment to think straight." My head hurts trying to think of these things while inebriated. "Ugh...If I remember right...There are thirty-one spinal cord nerve segments." My hand starts at the very top under the base of his skull. "There should be eight cervical segments..." I count my way down each bone. "Then twelve thoracic segments..." He sighs pleasantly, almost like a coo, and I blush a bit. "Then there are five lumbar segments..." I stop following the bone trail because I don't want to kill this good time by feeling his bony ass. "What's left is five sacral segments and one coccygeal segment." He makes this odd sound that doesn't sound bad but is still weird to me before suddenly putting his arms around my neck in a tired way. "you make a good pillow." God, he's adorable like this. "lynsie..." "Yes?" "can i be honest with ya for a sec?" "Sure." He makes himself cozy. "now, this might be the booze talking or my good mood, but...i'm glad you came to the underground." Was that...genuine sentiment? The feels. It makes my eyes water and my heart hurt. I'm not used to someone showing actual care without a motive before. And in this current emotional flux going on in me, well, something doesn't quite connect properly. [Error. Lynsie.exe has suffered a crash. Please reboot to repair.] [Rebooting start...6% complete.] Mentally, my lights are off and yet I'm still fully aware of what's going on. He notices my lack of movement and looks up at me. "yo, you okay?" [Rebooting...18% complete.] Well, this is new. I've had breakdowns before. But this is just silly. "hey, come on. don't make me regret saying that. not like it matters anyway since you won't remember." [Rebooting...34% complete.] Is this what a coma is like? It's freaky. Like I'm a living doll. This feeling increases when he snaps his fingers in my face and my reaction time in blinking is extremely slow. "wait a sec...this isn't the booze, is it?" [Rebooting...52% complete.] "can you even talk?" That is a good question. All that I can manage to force out is a slight wheeze. This makes him laugh hard enough that he rolls off me and teleports for some more mustard. "now this is funny. you're so messed up you actually crashed. i haven't seen someone crashed in ages." [Rebooting...79% complete.] He returns and plops down sleepily beside me, already guzzling the bottle. "i guess this means i win our little game. because this is the last one and i ain't getting any more." [Rebooting...100% complete.] [Restarting ...now.] I blink rapidly as life returns to my brain. "Whoa...Dude...That was trippy as hell." He snickers. "just be glad it happened here and not out in town. crashing in public around the wrong people has lead to a lot of easy kills. or so i've been told." "Wait, so that's a normal thing that happens down here?" "kind of. like i said, it's been a while since i've seen it happen." "Then what causes it?" "no one knows. my guess is that it happens when something clashes with what the person is used to." Huh...Makes sense I guess. He's about to finish off that last bottle when I put my hand out. "what?" "Can I have some?" "no way. this is mine." "I just want one sip." "i said no." "Please? I'll take the remains. I just want something to wet my whistle." He snorts. "what are ya? some old-timer in a saloon?" "What do I need to do to get a sip?" He pauses for thought. "well...nah. you'd never do that." "What?" He looks at me, then the bottle, and then back to me with a smirk slowly forming. "how bad do you want some of this?" I look at him funny. "don't give me that look. i ain't no perv. i only mean to offer you a dare." "...I'm listening." That smirk of his grows. "i'll let ya have the rest of the bottle, if...you can keep from laughing at one last little joke." "...That's it?" "that's it." "Okay...What's the joke?" "heh...what do you call a skeleton with benefits?" I tilt my head and shrug. "I dunno." He motions me to lean in closer and doing so lets him whisper in my ear rather huskily. "a bone buddy~." The urge to giggle is almost stronger than the weird 'what the fuck' feeling his tone gave me or the suggestive wink he gives me when he pulls away. Just when my head comes up with something to say as a result of this, he starts to snicker and slaps his knee. "heheheh...oh man...you should see your face right now. oooooh, that was so worth it. here. it's yours." He hands me the bottle. I just look at him and then the bottle before looking back at him. "what?" "Gonna be honest here...I...I can't tell if you were really joking." He grins like a saucy Cheshire cat. "maybe i did. or maybe i didn't. the world may never know, kitten. now are ya gonna drink or not?" This is a weird moment. But a rare one. And my bubbled brain isn't sure what to do other than drink. "Don't make this weird, Sans." I take the bottle and drink. "weird? this ain't weird. wanna see something really weird?" "...You have my attention, good sir." This night is just going to get odder the longer it goes. [Many hours and lots of empty mustard bottles later] Sans's senses fought with themselves on whether or not to wake up. It has been a long time since he slept this soundly and this peacefully. The mattress wasn't lumpy. The pillow cushioned his face just right. A soothing warmth that evenly spread throughout his bones as no blanket has before. The only things that were drawing him to the waking side of the force were this sweet musky smell and a soft wheezing sound that randomly came to him that made the bed vibrate. Wait...vibrate? Come to think of it, since when did his mattress move at all? Slowly he reluctantly opens his eyes and instantly regrets doing so. He wasn't laying on his mattress and his head was definitely not on his pillow. Not only was he laying on top of the human, not only was his shirt off, not only was his face resting atop her grand tetons, but he found his soul was out and pressing into her. His skull burns bright red and he teleports halfway across the room in a cold sweat then forces his soul to return. What the fuck happened? How much did he drink last night? [BANG BANG BANG] Already on edge, the door being attacked didn't help. Though to his surprise, the human didn't wake up. "SANS! WAKE YOUR LAZY ASS UP!" "i'm up, pap!" "OH...WELL...GOOD." Papyrus walks away and Sans does his best to settle down. As uncomfortable as this was, he was grateful that she was still out. Though in the back of his mind he did wonder why. Gaster is a likely reason. She did tell him that they had this weird deal of sorts. Dumb girl has no clue what she's doing. Casting thoughts of the human aside, mostly because they were making him incredibly uncomfortable, Sans gathers his clothing for the day and heads for the bathroom. He needed a cold shower to reset himself. Damn woman is getting to him. How else could he explain how he woke up? He never would be that comfortable around her unless he was wasted. Sans is no pushover to the hard effects of booze, but even he would be susceptible to alcohol after a limit was met. It was under such influence that Drunk Bun took advantage and caused the gross amount on his tab. It's something he made Grillby promise to not let happen again. But this wasn't the bar. This was at home. And she needs to go home. Out of the shower, fully dressed, and wishing the woman in his room would vanish, Sans ventures down to get some food in him before having to sit outside for the rest of the day in the elements. "what's to eat?" Papyrus just slides a plate of lasagna on the counter without a word. "pap?" Papyrus leaves the room with his own plate and Sans is confused. Papyrus being like this is unsettling in the morning. Maybe things were still off from last night? He did leave before Papyrus could make his shitty attempt at an apology. This could be interesting. If Papyrus felt something, other than his vanity and narcissism, it might be worth letting him stew in it for the day. With how often his brother made him feel like crap, it was karma long overdue for Papyrus to feel the same. With this scheme in mind, Sans adjourns to the living room to eat and go about the day without speaking to his brother. This silence lasts long after the eating is done and they leave the house. Nothing is none the wiser to their absence from the home. Not the slumbering flower. Nor the unconscious human. For long at least. [Some hours later] Wearily I come awake from a very deep dreamless sleep. Everything feels heavy. My eyelids are like sandbags and my limbs like lead bricks. I can't recall most of last night but I know if I don't get out of bed I'll either be yelled at or some other bullshit. I roll off the mattress and groan. I have never felt so lethargic in my life. But even laziness must give way to more important things. Like calling Toriel. [RING-RING] "Good afternoon, my child. I take you are calling to apologize." This confuses me. "Apologize?" "Do not play dumb with me, young one. You have failed to maintain your phone calls to me for the last, by this hour, two days." Wait...no...no her math is right. God damn, I have fucked up. "Nanny, I am so sorry..." "Save it. Once was bad enough. You are in big trouble, young lady." "Please don't start wigging out on me right now. I have had so much happen to me that I can't deal with you getting mad." I hear that telltale cracking when she gets upset and squeezes her phone. "Are you talking back to me?" I'm digging my own grave here. But I'm too fuzzy mentally to give a shit. "Why didn't you tell me about soul maturity?" Her side of the call gets a little garbled. She might have finally ruined her phone. "The irony of it all, Nanny, is that if you had told me about it I would've stayed home. Now I'm dealing with random surges in magic, emotional flipping, and I am losing my damn mind in hormones! And I'm doing all this around guys! It's fucking humiliating! But that's fine. Phone calls are more important than making sure this doesn't make the Black Soul come out more often and make me go on a genocidal killing spree. So go ahead. Reprimand me. Be mad. Meanwhile, I have to make sure a grumpy skeleton doesn't threaten my life while his brother makes jokes about it." "*crackling* I...You don't...Young one...Come home...I..." "Your phone is breaking up, Nanny. *sigh* I'm sorry I snapped. I love you, mom. I'll talk to you later." [CLICK] This is not how I wanted my day to start. With that done, I drag my heavy body to the door. Even reaching up for the knob feels like overexertion of energy but it can't be helped since I can't just stay in Sans's room all day. I actually consider tumbling down the stair for a moment till reasoning kicks in and I childishly crawl backward down them instead. "Lynsie? Are you okay?" Flowey looks at me funny as I yawn. "Dude, what time is it?" He shrugs. "I don't have a clock. But it's been super quiet since I woke up." I sigh. "Have you eaten yet?" "No." "So...It's quiet and no one feed you? *groan* They left us." It takes a minute for that to sink in and the wicked grin to smear my face. "They left us..." "We can finally get out of this crazy place and get back to Toriel!" "Yeah! We can leave...Snowdin..." Suddenly this doesn't feel as right as it should. "What's wrong? Why do you sound uncertain? You...You're not thinking we should stay...Are you?" I pick myself off the floor with a sour face. "I'm an idiot for this, but yeah. I'm second guessing it." Flowey is not happy and flails his leaves. "Are you out of your mind?! Do you actually like being beaten?" "No, of course not." "Then why are you second guessing this? We need to go home!" "I know that!" I rub my arm, rolling up the sleeve a bit more with each stroke. "But what if this is a trap? They are posted right outside of the Ruins and Sans can teleport. If we can't make it through those doors then everything else we've been through won't compare to the punishment that will come from fleeing." "But staying here is just as bad." This is a head scratcher. I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. I probably could slip past Papyrus, because those dogs are not a problem, but Sans is the real threat. If he knows I'm running he is more than capable of stopping me. Dude can stop time, summon laser skull cannons, manipulate gravity on souls, and who knows what else. I need to think this out more. "We're staying here, aren't we?" "...I didn't say that. But it's a good chance." "What about Napstablook? Are we ever going to see him?" A bad nervous habit I have when feeling stress is to claw myself. My nails dig into my skin and I drag them a couple of times. There's just so much on my mind and it makes me want to jump off the roof! "Lynsie?" I dig a little harder and one of the red welts trails a streak a crimson in its wake. "H-Hey! You're bleeding!" I don't even feel it. I just look at the blood before licking it away and fixing the sleeve, much to Flowey's disgust. "Flowey...Why do stay with me?" That threw him off a little. "Huh?" "You didn't have to come out of the Ruins with me. And you have a better opportunity to leave than me. So why? Why do you stay if you want to go so damn badly?" He's stunned slightly. "I...I can't leave you here alone." "Why not?" "Why not? What do you mean why not?" "I mean, you don't have to stick around. I'm not your problem." "But..." "The ground should connect from here to the Ruins. You should be able to make it back with no issue." "I'm not leaving you here." "Fine then. You can stay. I'm going out." I head for the door. "Wait...Where are you going?" "I need a drink" "The fridge is the other way." "It doesn't have what I need." I walk out and head for Grillby's, but I pop back in for one last thought. "I'll be back later. And maybe...I'll be brave for us both." He looks confused as I shut the door with a sigh and continue on my way to the bar. I don't intend to do any hard drinking. I think I'm still feeling it from the mustard last night. All I want is to talk with a close someone. He seems to get me even when I don't. I just hope today is a slow day and the usual guests are feeling like home is where they want to drink. The door to the pub feels heavier to me, probably due to that tired feeling from earlier, and I keep my head low as I enter. "Pussycat!" Grillby's voice has an emotion I'm not used to hearing. He has the voice of someone that's happy to see me. It makes me smile. "Where were you? When they didn't come in today I was thinking the worst happened." There are a few patrons in here, about two or four that I see. They see what I'm trying to hide before he does and he only sees it when I take my seat at the bar. But I know he's pissed by how hot it gets. "A loaded omelet and strawberry milk please." Grillby leans on the bar and grabs my chin, making me look up at him to better see the damage. His eyes narrow. "Is this what happens when you 'handle it'?" I glare weakly. "I'm not talking about this out here. But no, this was something else. Papyrus did this." Smoke escapes the sides of his mouth. "Open your mouth." I sigh through my nose. "The tooth is chipped if you thought you saw something odd." He growls low and deep. "Say the word and I'll make sure he won't touch you again." I won't lie, knowing he's willing to defend me is attractive as hell. But nothing good cones from impulsive actions. I take his hand off my face and hold it in both of mine. "You are my knight in burning armor, Sir Grillby of flame." I kiss his hand and the sudden sweetness mellows him out a bit. "Heh...Buttering me up won't change the subject, pussycat." "Not trying to. Just lowering your burner a little before you overheat." He smiles a little and calms down, his temperature getting less intense. "Thank you, Grillz." "I meant what I said, Lynsie. I'll make him stop. You don't have to put up with this." "I know. But I...*groan* It's complicated." He frowns. "Will you at least talk about it with me?" Oh, Grillby...There is so much I want to say and yet so much I can not. "Yeah. Just...let me get a little comfortable before I do." That lifts his spirits up and he kisses my forehead. "Take your time, dear. I'll be back with your breakfast." Grillby heads to the kitchen and can't help but feel lucky that I know him. If I had known someone like him was down here I would've jumped a hell of a lot sooner. The guy is kind, caring, understanding, and was willing to lay down his life to protect me...at least in that dead timeline he did. Mmmm...It doesn't hurt that he's hot too. Those glasses and that uniform of his. I don't know if these feeling started because of that dream I had but right now I'm glad to have them. Zoned in these thoughts, I fail to notice his return and nearly jump when the plate clatters on the bar. "Daydreaming, pussycat? Hope I didn't interrupt anything interesting~." I snicker to hide the small blush that threatens to show. "Maybe. I do believe it was about this really hot guy. Maybe you know him?" He smirks while he makes my drink. "Maybe I do. What does this hot guy look like?" "Look in a mirror." He chuckles with a small blush. "If I didn't know any better, pussycat, I'd think you were flirting with me." I shrug. "I could be. Or you're just wishfully thinking." He puts the finished glass down in front of me and grins. "You're in a playful mood, pussycat. Is this your way of stepping up our game?" I take my milk and sip it. "I'll let you know when I'm ready for that, Grillz." "Heh...Playing it cool? Fine by me. But just so you know..." He leans in by my ear. "I'm ready for when you want to heat things up~." He backs away smugly and moves on to doing work while I get all flustered. Damn smooth talking flirty fire hottie. Making me all goofy and dorky looking. I hope my burning cheeks offset some of these dark bruises, I doubt it though. But this game of ours, it needs some evening out, he's got more points over me and I don't like that. No...I think it's time to step up my skills. But how? I eat my omelet and think this over. There's got to be a way to mess with him. Something he wouldn't expect from me. By the time I've finished eating the few patrons that were here surprisingly left the bar. "Where'd everybody go?" "It's a mandatory thing in town that once a month the guard takes count of the population. Everyone lines up outside their home for the census. Shopkeepers can remain in their place of business but must leave their doors open." "Oh. ...Fuck." I chug the remaining milk and take my dishes as I hide behind the bar with him. This confuses him but Grillby is a smart man, he figures it out with ease. "They don't know you're here, do they?" I shake my head as the door's bell rings with someone's entrance to the bar. "*whisper* Keep still and doesn't make a sound." I nod and he walks around to meet this guardsman. "What can I do for you, Doggo?" "You know how this goes. Same thing every time." There's a click sound, a pen maybe. "All this normal crap is out of the way. Gotta love it when you can auto-fill more than half this crap without asking." "Makes things easier when nothing ever changes." "I hear that. Speaking of which...Any new additions to your current living space?" "Such as?" "You know. That girl you mess with. She moved in with you?" There's a faint crackling sound. "H-How fast do you think I move on someone?" "I don't know. The way you two go at it I was betting you managed to snag her and had that bone on locked down." "What?" "Yeah, then again, I guess it's not worth it. What with her being passed around by those skeletons." There's a deep threatening growl that's followed by a hard slam. I'm tempted to look but I know better. "*whimpering* Y-You...You hit me?" "Get the fuck out of my bar...NOW!" Grillby's voice has a searing deathly burn in it and it's not long before that bell over the door rings harshly in Doggo's retreat. There is some huffing and puffing from Grillby's calming fume. This concerns me. Dishes cast aside to a small shelf, I creep around the bar and see him standing in the center of the room, his hair billowing high in his anger. Poor guy. I move close to him and feel his heat. "Grillby?" He lets out a large puff of smoke. "Give me a minute...please." I frown in worry. "Okay. But I'm here for you." His arms are shaking. He's settling down slowly. That's good. Yet I feel like I can help. I lightly put my hand on his back and he flinches. Though he begins to relax when I rub my hand up and down along the curve of his back. "Mmmmmm...That's nice." His flames die down and he turns around to me. "Thank you, pussycat." "Thank you for defending my honor again." His face holds such softness. It's cute. "I don't punch Royal Guardsmen for anyone else." There's a warm spot in my heart and I know it's for him. He's earned a reward. "Grillby..." "Yes?" "I don't kiss anyone else." His eyes widen when I yank him by his tie and kiss him, though his surprise doesn't last long. He practically coos when I let him go. "I need to hit Doggo more often if this is what it gets me." "Silly boy." "Well, you like this silly boy." "Yeah, I do." He puts his arms around my waist and I wrap mine around his neck. "You're comfortable with this, pussycat?" "If I wasn't, I wouldn't be letting it happen, would I?" "Heh...You're cute when feisty." "Cute? With this busted face?" "All you need is some healing. Don't put yourself down." "How can I put myself down when all you do is lift me up?" He chuckles and kisses my forehead before resting against me, his breath is steamy yet enjoyable. "You make it very hard not to do more and respect this waiting when you get so damn adorable." He has a point. It's not like I don't like him. Maybe it's worth exploring this with him. As they say...You only live once. Might as well live knowing happiness. This will really surprise him. That's for sure. I lean back slightly and he looks confused as I move into his neck to leave a few kisses. This gets him blushing and his grip tightens a bit. "Mmmmmm...Now you're not playing fair, pussycat." "Who said I'm playing?" His body stiffens. "W-What?" "I told you earlier..." I look him dead in those fiery eyes of his. "I'll let you know when I'm ready for our game to level up." He blinks quickly as that sinks in. "You...You're serious?" I stroke the back of his head, letting my fingers play around in his flames. "I think you've earned it. Unless you'd rather stay in this friendly type thing?" He pulls out of our hold and steps back toward the door. "Grillby?" When he reaches the door he flips a sign, locks the door, and shuts the blinds on all the windows. This makes me feel like I just fucked up. "Why are you doing that?" "Don't freak out. I'm just closing up for a quick break. Mostly for two reasons." "And they are?" "Well for one..." He starts heading back to me. "I don't want to deal with any of the guards due to Doggo's bitching about being punched. And the second reason..." He reaches me and cups my face. "I want nothing to ruin this." If it weren't for the glow of his hands I wouldn't have any clue that he was healing my bruised as hell face, well, that and it tingles a bit. That warmth in my chest starts that getting hotter as he leans in and kisses me softly...at first. Now knowing he has the okay to do more, Grillby carefully guides me over to a table and sits me on it so I'm a bit more at level with him without breaking the kiss. This is giving me vibes similar to that of the naughty dream yet he's being less aggressive then dream Grillby was. His tenderness allows me to relax, my hands rest on his chest and enjoy the satin feel of his uniform's vest. He trails his kisses across my cheek then down my neck under the bandanna, nipping lightly at my nape and I shamefully moan when he nibbles a sensitive spot. This reaction has the both of us blushing yet he's smiling at me. "Did you just...?" "Grillz..." "Oh my god..." "Grillby, please." "That was the cutest fucking thing I have ever heard in my life." I groan which only makes him laugh. "Come on, it's nothing to be embarrassed about." "Don't tease me." "No, I liked it. In fact...I want to hear it more~." "I don't think tha-!" He cuts me off when his mouth clamps around that spot and begins to suck like a vampire for blood. This has me mewling by, what I can only guess is, his ear and he is very much pleased to hear it all. His bite is sharp yet harmless. He keeps this up a good long while as I cling to him and drag out his name randomly in those lewd sounds he enjoys so much. Eventually, he releases my neck and his smug satisfaction is suddenly alluring to me. It's probably confidence. We chicks dig a confident man. "There. Now you look even better with my mark~." I'm a bit too loopy to understand what that means. Plus the heat I'm feeling is flooding my system and he is becoming more attractive by the second. He nuzzles into my cheek with a few kisses peppered in. "I take it this is your first hickey too?" I nod with a lightheaded smile. All this heat is getting to me. Making it harder to think straight. "So cute." He graces me with a smoldering kiss that lingers long after he's pulled away. This is all too much for my soul to take and the pink heart emerges from my chest much to his shock but also interest. "Easy there, pussycat. While very flattering, I don't think you're ready for that level yet." "Can't help it. It likes you so much." He smirks while giving me a hug. His warmth making my soul feel strange, but not unpleasant. "You are way too sweet to be down here." "And you are way too attractive for your own good. Wait...Did I say that out loud?" He laughs and nuzzles that tender part of my neck as I hug him back. "You know...My offer still stands. You can stay with me and not them." I want to say yes. Everything in me is screaming to yell yes with all my might. But I can't muster the will to do so. Not when Flowey pops into my head and from him spring up all the other people I can't just forget to be with him. My silence gives it away to him. "You can't, can you?" "I want to. But there are things I still need to do. I can't forgo what I already promised. I'm sorry." He looks disappointed for a second before petting my head. "You're a good girl, Lynsie." "You're not mad?" "No. How can I be mad at you when you're honest with me? Besides, it's not like you shot me down. I can wait for when you're able to accept my offer." I sigh with relief as my soul calms down and I smile at this sweet man of flames. "Thank you, Grillby." "No thanks needed. I get it. You've probably got a lot on your plate and being a forced 'house guest' doesn't help matters much." "Yeah." "Was is it that you need to do anyway?" "Well...The whole reason I left the Ruins was to see my friend in Waterfall." That puzzles him. "Who do you know in Waterfall?" "A ghost named Napstablook. He visits the Ruins a lot and we became buddies." "Ah, makes sense now." "I just don't know how to get there without tipping off the guard. He mentioned something about a fast travel thing that would take me near his home from here, but I have no clue where that thing is or what it even is." "The Riverperson." "Huh?" "You're talking about the Riverperson. They take people from area to area on their boat." The pink in my soul starts to transition into white. "Do you know where they are?" He nods and steps back a bit. "Once out this door, you make a left into the housing area and keep going straight. There's a spot where it docks its boat. You can't miss it." Finally. Finally, something that helps me move forward. My soul turns fully white and retreats to my body. "Is that normal for you?" "What?" "Your soul. It changed colors." "Oh, that? Yeah. You get used to it." I scoot off the table. "Thank you, Grillby." "For what?" "Where to start? For defending me. For understanding. For caring. For the companionship. Just thanks for being you, you awesome sweetheart." This has the man of fire burning with a less than intimidating hue as he becomes flustered. I love it. "Awww..." "What?" "You're adorable." His flames burn brighter. "I am not." "And here I thought you liked my honesty." He turns around to get control of himself and I make it worse a little by hugging his back. "Would it help if I said you were hot as hell?" That seems to lighten his embarrassment. "It's a start." "That's the spirit." I kiss the back of his neck and he shivers. "Oh? Did I just find a secret spot of sensitivity?" "Heh...Maybe." "Good to know. Makes our game a bit more even." "And what does that mean?" "You'll have to wait and see, hot stuff." I kiss the back of his neck again and this time he shudders. "*flustered* Really making it hard for me now, pussycat." "My bad." I let him go. "It's probably for the best that we stop anyway. You need to run your bar and I have to get my bro so we can finally finish this longer than it should've been quest." "Heheh...Cute. But you make a point. If I'm closed for too long than the local drunkards will bitch like there's no tomorrow." We both head for the door. "So...You won't be in Waterfall for long, will you?" "Worried I'll get my ass kicked?" "The monster there are stronger than the ones here. Not guard level, but still stronger." "It's sweet of you to be concerned. But trust me, I don't intend to fight anyone." "I'm more worried about you running into Undyne." "The Captain? Yeah, Blooky mentioned she lived there. It's why I'm gonna use the boat to bypass running into her." "Clever girl." I pull up the blinds us as he unlocks the door then turns over the sign. Already there's a line outside of patrons wanting to enter and when they can, they head for their normal spots ready to order. "Looks like you're gonna be busy today. Heh...Sucks to be you, boss." Grillby sighs. "It's going to get less busy later. It's lady's night tonight. Not many women show up." "Horny dudes try to schmooze on the ones that show up?" "Bingo." "Called it!" I move out the door. "Later, hot dude." "Wait!" He grabs my arm at the last second. "Dude, you okay?" He stares at me hard before releasing his grip. "Do you have a phone?" Okay, that random. But not completely out there. "Yeah. Why?" "Let me give you my number. In case something happens." I give him a warm smile and my phone. He adds his number to my contact list and hands it back. "Promise you'll call at the first sign of something going wrong." I hug his neck and kiss his cheek. "I promise. I'll come back to you." He nuzzles my neck and lets me take my leave, allowing him to return to his work while I head back to the skeleton house. The path has been clear to me now. I can make to Napstablook's place. Problem is, if I do, I run the risk of setting Papyrus off. He'll think I escaped. Sans will think the same, but he'd know where to look for me. If that happens, I can hide out at Blooky's for a bit before returning and making a break for the Ruins. Maybe...Maybe if Flowey can help in case we get spotted...Argh! There are so many variables for things to go wrong! I hate it! I enter the house and plop on the couch. "So...You feeling better now? Or are you just drunk?" I look over at my flora brother and see he made something for himself to eat. I did leave in a huff, forgetting to feed him. I owe him more than what I give. "Hey! Your face looks better." "My buddy at the bar did that. He's nice." "Huh? So there are nice monsters." "I'm sorry for earlier. I was a dick. I could've fed you before leaving." "That would've been nice." "Again, I'm sorry. There's just...*sigh* A lot of stuff is on my mind and I'm dealing with a body that is going nuts. I don't mean to take it out on others, especially you. Hell, I even tore into Mom." "Are you insane?! I mean, you have to be if you did that." "I'm not even sure we can call her anymore. Her phone was breaking up really bad." "So we can't get in touch with her at all?" "It's a possibility. I'm hoping more that her battery was dying. Mine's not looking too good either what with no charger and the constant Mom calls." "So we're screwed?" "Not necessarily. The phone is still an option until proven otherwise. But other than that, you can still try going underground to inform her or Blooky could do it." "And how would you get him to do that? "I'll ask him when we get there." That makes him pause. "Are you joking?" "Do I look like I am?" "W-What about the skeletons?" "If we leave now and not stay too long, they shouldn't be none the wiser to our little 'escape'." "And if they do?" I remain silent. "Oh." "We'd have to hide out and either make it to the bar or to Ruins." "Why the bar?" "The owner likes me." Flowey shivers uncomfortably. "Don't be that way. Mom approves of the guy." Technically this is a lie but it's not like Toriel ever said she didn't like Grillby. "So...I'm guessing you have an idea of how to get there if you're suggesting we leave." "There's a boat that'll take us. I just need to know if you're okay with this." He flinches. "Why are you putting all this pressure on me?" "Because I'm sick of being the one with a noose around my neck. Now make a choice. We stay or we go?" He nervously rubs his petals. "Um...uh..." "We don't have much time. Every second wasted allows them to find us sooner." "We go!" I stand up and go over to him. "You'll help me if needed. Right, bro?" "I don't know what you expect me to do. But...sure." "Alright then." I gather my bag and don my gear before collecting Flowey then taking what could be our final leave of this place. Following the directions Grillby gave me, I head into the housing area and notice some different monsters that I didn't know lived here. Of course there are rabbits, a boy awkwardly watches a girl as she walks her little brother on a child leash. A family of slimes take part in what looks to be a parody game of gladiators with the father presiding as judge. I can only guess that this play fighting prepares them for real fights in the future. Then located a little eastward of the slime family is what looks to be a very buff wolf monster behind a gated area throwing mass-produced giant ice cubes into part of the river stream. His fur must be very warm because this hunk is naked. I'm tempted to wolf-whistle at him but I don't need the attention right now. I continue my way past the houses and end up in a small secluded spot surrounded by trees that leave enough space for something to sit by the water. "You said there was a boat. I don't see a boat." "Don't get fussy. Like any ride, we need to wait for the driver to come back." Flowey huffs with a shiver and I put him in the backpack so he's out of the chill. I just have to wait now. [Ring...ring...] Huh? That's a strange ring. And looking at this is even weirder as it's an unknown number. Eh, it's probably Mettaton calling to be creepy again. "Hello?" "Hello! Can I speak to G...Wait a second. Is this the wrong number?" Okay, definitely not Mettaton. And this voice...Why does it sound like I know it yet don't? Creepy! "Um...Yeah. I don't think you meant to call me." " Oh it's the wrong number! The wrong number song! We're very very sorry that we got it wrong! Oh it's the wrong number! The wrong number song! We're very very sorry that we got it wrong! " [Click...] Well that was random and weird as hell. "Tra la la..." I'm spooked by the sudden appearance of a fully cloaked figure in black on a wooden boat parked before me. "I am the riverman. Or am I the riverwoman...? It doesn't really matter. I love to ride in my boat. Would you care to join me?" The hell am I getting myself into here and why does this person sound like the phone weirdo? How would it even have my phone number? "Uh...yes?" "Where will we go today? Waterfall? Hotland?" "Waterfall please." "Then hop aboard and we'll be off." "How much?" It shakes its head. "No charge." Really? I can live with that. I step onto the boat and sit down before it begins to move in the water. How the boat is being controlled when the captain is not doing anything is a mystery I can't begin to think of. "Tra la la. What's inside an acorn? It's really just a mystery." I stare at this weirdo and grow in confusion. Is it just my imagination or paranoia that it also used the word mystery? "I'm pretty sure it's just a tree seed that squirrels really like. But who's to say they aren't just nuts." The pun is accidental. But it makes the figure look back at me. Nothingness. That's all there is in that hooded face. Just dark nothingness. "You need to be careful, little one." That name. That name sends chills down my spine. Only Gaster calls me that. Maybe it's just a coincidence. "Trust in the man who speaks in hands." ...Or not. "What did you say?" It nods. "Trust in the man who came from the other world." "Hold on...How do you know him?" It doesn't speak and this pisses me off. "How you know him?! How do you know about Gaster?!" My shouting stirs Flowey, who merely peeks his head out of the bag. This gets the Riverperson's attention. "Tra la la. Humans, Monsters...Flowers." I feel Flowey jerk back into hiding and I snarl. "Leave him alone. Quit being cryptic and get to your point! You obviously know things others don't." "The angel is coming..." Its voice is low with a warning and it turns away from me to face the water ahead of us. "You'd be wise to get that soul of yours under control...Tra la la." My blood runs cold. I know not what this "angel" is, but the warning of my soul is not good. This being knows more than it lets on. I don't like it. I only hope my actions haven't set up a disaster in the future. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My head canon for Fell drinking: Fell Lynsie reverts to Original Lynsie in terms of personality, she is kind, loving, goofy, and honest. Fell Sans has a strong tolerance but when he hits his limit he becomes bold, emotional, trusting, and more likely to be comfortable around others. So if they were acting funny/familiar to you, now you know the reason why.

#undertale #underfell #Anomaly #Lynsie #sans #papyrus #gaster #grillby #grandpa semi #chara #frisk #flowey #Asriel #asgore #toriel #napstablook #mettaton #undyne #alphys

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infinitycaprogers · 6 years

Text

Midnight Train (B.B.)| CH.2

Parings: Bucky x Reader General Summary: A story very loosely based on Journey’s ‘Don’t Stop Believing’. (I suck at a finding a general summary without spilling the beans, you guys. Sorry!) Word Count: 2k Chapter summary: You’re getting curious about your new neighbour. Warnings: None A/N: So, I wasn’t sure if this was anything good but since @trashpanda-barnes said that she loved it and seeing that I almost had 40 notes must mean that I did SOMETHING good, right? Hope you all like it and if you want to be tagged, just ask me! Feedback is always appreciated as it helps me become a better writer so that you guys can actually enjoy my writing lol. Anyways, here’s chapter Two!

Enjoy xoxo

Masterlist

Previously:

Until a loud thud jolted you awake.

You opened your eyes instantly, scanning your room for any signs of movement. After a thorough check you frantically looked for something to whack the vandalizing fool with whom dared to enter your apartment. you opened your door to reveal Nancy, still snoring away peacefully on her cushion. You left her there and turned your head to the door. It appeared to be unopened. But how -

‘THUD.’

Your thoughts haltered as you widened your eyes and crept closer to the door which lead to the hallway. you peaked through the viewing hole and saw a wave of blond hair passing by. You gasped as an all too familiar face revealed itself.

‘Steve?’

Still in shock, you opened the door just a tad to take a better look at the scene before you; A tall, broad-shouldered man, was frantically looking around him in the corridor. His blond hair, slicked back and slightly greasy, made it seem like he hadn’t been home in a few days.

Steve. Rogers. Captain America.

He appeared to make sure no one was there, or at least that’s what you derived from the situation, since he wasn’t calling anyone for help and roamed his eye over every nook and corner of the hallway. You kept peeping and gathering more information, bending your knees to get a different point of view.

After checking, he whistled two short tones which alerted another figure, cloaked in the darkness of the corners of the hall. He stepped forward and appeared to be even more dishevelled than the blond superhero.

a small gasp escaped your breath being taken aback by his presence, alerting the Captain that another person appeared present in the whole ordeal. His eyes went wide, searching for any movement, which was your unfortunate cue to close the door. The lock clicked. A usually quiet sound turned into a deafening one in this silence and you were certain to be discovered. You let yourself fall as quietly as you could with your back against the door, a hand thrown over your mouth to stop the sound of heavy breathing seeping through the door. They spoke a few whispers, but it was too still to decipher.

Not long after, you heard a knock. You hastily stood back up, turning around to face the door and softly inquired:

“Who is it?”

A stern voice answered: “Ma’am, I’m from across the hall. Would you mind opening the door?”

You hesitated for a second. You heard Captain America. And not just that, you heard Steve. The Steve you had known for so long. Through stories, pictures, and so much more. And now he was here. In your building.

Knocking on your door.

In that moment you knew your only choice was to answer. He was a good man. He wouldn’t do anything to harm you. So you unlocked the door and put on your bravest face.

“What seems to be the problem?” you mustered up.

“I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Steve.” A handsome, kind face looked down at you. “I’ll be living here for a while and I wanted you to know that if you heard anything, you shouldn’t worry about it. We’re moving things around a lot and me being a total klutz doesn’t help.” He lifted his eyebrows as to let you know there really wasn’t anything troubling about this, but you saw right through him as soon as he slipped up.

And maybe because you were just spying on them.

“We?” you asked suggestively, slightly squinting your eyes.

“Uhm, Did I say we?” He nonchalantly asked but tried to save this conversation. “I mean, yes! We. My friend and I. Why, did you see him?”

As calmly as he tried to ask this, you were one step ahead of him. “Look Steve; yes, I saw your friend, there’s no need to worry. I don’t know what you guys are doing, but it is none of my business. I sure you wouldn’t do anything illegal. I know you.”

He looked puzzled, not knowing where you were heading with this.

“How do you mean, you know me?”

“First of all, you’re Captain America? Like one of the most well-known heroes on this planet.” You stated.

“Second, I know you as Steve Rogers, the little guy my grandmother used to have a crush on,” you explained to him, eyeing his response. “but you probably know her better as Sally.”

As soon her name left your lips, his eyes went wide with recognition, a smile appearing on his face.

“Sally…” he said, chuckling by himself, reminiscing the old days where, as you know, Steve was so in love with Sally that he brought her a single flower every morning since he was eight years old. With that flower always came a little note which had the loveliest compliments written on them. He wouldn’t talk to her himself, since he was too shy and thought she would never go for him, but how wrong he was. One day, when they were both fourteen, she was waiting for him to leave the flower of that day, a beautiful bright red rose, on her porch. As soon as he laid it down, she yanked the door open and asked;

“What the hell do you think you’re doing leaving me a pretty flower every day and not talking to me? Are those the manners your mommy taught you? Because they’re poorly.”

Since then, the two were inseparable. They would do literally anything together; going to the movies, playing outside, going to the market,… Sometimes Bucky would come with, but it was mostly them two as an amazing duo of friends who felt more for each other, not realizing it.

Until their first kiss at 15. The friendship turned in to so much more, and they were very much in love.

But when Steve’s mother died, his dad thought it was best to move to the other side of Brooklyn. Steve barely had any money to find his way back to his dame and even though Sally had quite a mouth on her, she couldn’t defy her parents, who wanted another man for her. A stronger, more suitable man who could protect her now that the war was in sight.

They corresponded through a few letters, but after Sally became engaged to another man due to her father, the corresponding stopped.

That was the last they heard from each other.

Even though she learned to love her husband, you grandmother only had one true love: Steve. Your grandfather had died a long time ago before you even knew what death was. So since then she always told about little Steve, her neighbour. The love of her life. As you were growing up, you stayed over at your grandma’s house at least twice a week. Not a day went by without a story about Steve, their time together or his life as captain America. Because of this, you felt like you knew Captain America.

Your grandmother was still alive when they pulled him out of the ice. She was glad that his fate wasn’t to die in a rock of ice, but to be a hero in this age where people had a different war to fight now: aliens.

She died shortly after, but not before telling you to always love who you want, not who others want you to love.

A wise lesson you took with you for the rest for your life.

If you would ever love someone.

“So now we’ve established that I definitely know you,” you began as you leaned on your door. “you don’t have to worry. Mima Sal is the one person I have always respected on this planet and since she respected you, your secrets are safe with me.”

“Is she still alive?” Steve blurted out. He looked hopeful into your eyes, searching for any confirmation.

But you shook your head.

“Unfortunately, no. She died shortly after you came out of the ice.” You sighed. She really was your rock, and it was hard to say goodbye, but she had learned you not to weep, but to be happy to have known people in your life. “If you want, you can always come over sometime. I’d love to talk to someone about her who actually knew her as a young girl.” You sombrely smiled at him. He smiled back and mouthed a silent thank you while you both kept standing there, looking at each other. It was as if someone jolted him back to reality as he suddenly talked.

“Right! So, what’s your name then?” the superhero inquired.

“it’s y/n. y/n y/l/n.” you happily replied to him. “How funny we met! I’d never thought to have the honour.”

He chuckled. “The pleasure is all mine, y/n. Happy to meet you, you’ll be hearing a lot from me! Although I won’t be living here for most of the time.” he confessed to you.

“Oh? The who is? Your buddy?” you figured Steve just helped him settle in.

“Yes, he’ll be staying here for a while. He’s a bit shy, but he is also a big sweetheart.” Steve whispered the last part to you.

“Well, I’m off then. If you hear anything loud, don’t panic and, like, call the police? Would be pretty awkward, right?” he smiled slyly. “Goodbye.”

He turned himself around and was already stalking his way back to his apartment when you halted him with a loud “Wait!”

Steve’s head turned around slightly, his ears perking up at what you would say. “Yes?”

“What’s his name? Your buddy, I mean.”

He smirked as he answered you;

“James. His name is James.”

As you closed your door you stared down your hall, not really there until Nancy jumped up and down at your shins. You reached down to pick her up and take her with you on your sofa. You absentmindedly stroked her back as she cuddled against you, still thinking about what happened.

Not only had you met Captain America; he was also as sweet and caring as your grandmother made him out to be. Though he was not the one you had the most questions about.

Why didn’t James come and talk to you? He would be your neighbour after all. Why were they being so secretive?

You decided to just go back to sleep and try to forget about all the questions those two were raising. As Nancy was fast asleep, you took her with you to your bed, tucking yourself in until your entire body and Nancy’s was covered by your blanket. You let your eyes rest to let sleep take over your senses.

But sleep never came.

Read Chapter 3 Here!

Feedback is always appreciated xoxo

#midnight train #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #steve rogers #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #they took the midnight train going anywhere #james x reader #james barnes #james bucky barnes

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badaipuan · 5 years

Text

Here’s to the mess I made

It was at the very beginning of 2019 when I, for the first time, traveled miles away from home to lead a new chapter of my life. Yes, one resolution away this time. I got a good offer of a job though to be honest I was (and still) clueless about the position. A month passed by with fevers, fears, but yet excitement went along the way too. A contradiction. I guess we’re all just living in a contradictory world, aren't we?.

Before I left, my father insisted to take me to the bus station. I used to say no to everything he insisted because I don’t want to bother him. He got a lot in mind already, and also a lot of energy drained due to his working hours. But he’s a father somehow, he must have wanted to reassure if his daughter stepped inside the bus safely. Before I went in, I gave him a short embrace he didn’t expect. 1..2..3..three seconds and I let go. It’s my first travel to a new big big world, I didn’t want him to shed a tear. Absolutely will not. For our family, it’s crying hard or not to cry at all. Since a farewell of a daughter and a father is not a pleasant thing, the possible answer is to cry hard. And I wouldn’t cross that answer. I couldn’t imagine going away seeing my father weep right before my eyes. Anyway, I’ve never given him a hug before this. So, you tell how this moment happened to the two of us.

I stepped inside and realized I was the last passenger to went on the bus. I scanned the seats to find most of the passengers were men. My seat was next to a man around 40 who claimed to live in Grogol once. And yes I surely thought if the trip was going to be awkward.

There, while the wheels took me somewhere I never knew, I thought merely of how I would do this job. Sales thing, as long as I could remember, is not and never been my thing. But I know I’m going to give it a shot. For the sake of my family, and my family.

Gosh, Mar, Mir.. this is going to be the story I’d tell you on an afternoon meal one day.

Month 1 was summary of fever and figuring out which face to show, which thing should I do. I remember meeting mas Herlan for the first time. He’s sitting on the couch at the lobby. I shook his hand and he asked me if I was in the same university as him. I said no, it wasn’t me. My first impression of him? That he’s a warm and loving person. It showed clearly from his eyes and tone in his voice. At his left, stood Ezra and 2 or 3 others. Hey, guys, remember me? Yeah, I was the one who greeted you all, offered a handshake like I was coming from another time zone, before the century.

Month 2 was where I created a new circle of similar people as I am. In the other side, I questioned my traits over and over again. Evaluating why did there have to be 2 circles; the popular and the-rather-quiet-and-preserved. Why can’t I join both parties?

Month 3 and the fear of being judged was on its peak. I realized the reason it is hard for me to break the glass between myself and the popular is that because I fear them seeing the bad and ugly parts in me while we’re having an unfortunate conversation and decide to underestimate me for the rest of their time. So I chose to shut myself from them. Well, I can’t tell if it’s the right thing to do. People constantly tell me that I need to improvise in order to survive in this company. I need to imitate others in order to be liked by them, to gain their respect, to build an image in front of them. A skill I haven’t got just yet. A thing I need to force myself to learn. It might take quite some time but I believe I could eventually succeed. Well, still me, but better.

Month 3 is where the storm happened for several weeks making everything’s more chaotic and miserable than ever. March is where my dearest Peculiars cast away, gone as if nothing’s ever happened, which relentlessly break my heart. There’s hurricane inside and outside of me. Three months with these new people, I've figured out that the world is not as good as I thought it is. There are violence, judgment, anger, and madness out here and everywhere. Once you’re on the doormat, you’ll see no such authentic beauty in front of you. The world is filled up with made up mind, made up feelings and millions of false courtesies. People out here live for themselves and only for themselves. Not many live to fulfill the needs of others. For those who still believe in kindness, hopes may exist, I suppose. To meet these people, we need to look closely.

Here I am, entering the door with heart on my sleeve, considering if I should give it away or fight for it. The answer is to conservatively give it away.

...

Wait.. well, dang. How is it possible when it means violating my values? Cray. Dang, I don’t know about this yet but I promise to figure this out soon. I could already picture myself failing at this and turn myself to a fake social-moron. To make it out well alive, I constantly tell myself to fix my burst-out behavior. I mean, me myself have never seen this behavior before. So if you’re surprised, same here. My bad. My inner child would usually only jump out when I sense a like-minded person. Ok, like, person. Not a group of people, trust me, I never dared to show my true self publicly. But I guess I was off guard in the wrong timing because of the breakup I recently had. It feels like all the burden were off my shoulder. Dik, have a self-control, you idiot.

And from this unfortunate behavior, I got bunches of complaints. I understand though. Even I regret myself for being a social-cripple. Now worry not, I took the kid into the cage already and D-K is back to business y'all. To all the questions that buzzing inside my head, I decided to tell my ENFP buddy. The tell-everything-zone without worrying to be judged. Though I already knew the answer to my problems, I just need to be heard. So I talk about this to mas Herlan. At lobby hotel, after sunset. I can’t help to hold back. All the confusion going in my head, and while listening to mas Herlan’s calm voice, it had forced myself to sob. Pathetic porcelain kid

All these years, I have convinced myself that it’s ok to be you. It’s ok if I’m loud and quiet at the same time, it’s ok to literally add plain sundae to my fries, it’s ok to only give a dang to people I care about because giving false attention on purpose is draining my soul, it’s ok if I’m flawed, I have my own strengths too.. things that make me me that the others won’t be able to imitate. I’m totally fine if someone be just who they are in front of me. If they’re being mean to me, I’ll find out the reason why and will eventually understand their motives. And when someone’s being kind to me, I’ll give back even more. I appreciate any form of kindness. I truly believe there is good within everyone and that nobody ever means to do such mean things. This is how I always find my way to forgive people and forget the past. I find it much easier to heal. Perhaps that's also why I keep coming back to people who previously hurt me. Hey, it’s okay... People make mistake and we can always fix things up, right?

(right!)

But again,

Not everyone has the same in mind as I do. Some are forgiving, yet not forgetting what people have done to them. I’m cool with it, too. The rest seems neither forgive nor forget, and that’s alright. Their life, their rules.

The tips is to exceptionally do everyone good. Say good things, say sorry, thanks, whatever it is to make others feel appreciated. Behind our back, we’re all struggling with our problems. And I’m still working on my self, too. To be more aware of my surroundings. All the individualistic inside me needs to be lifted away before its roots shatter everything else.

I’m delighted for who I am right now and yet longing to the better version of myself in the near future. Only then my hand would able to reach those who are steps ahead of me. Those who inspire me and give my life a new purpose. I can’t wait to join those people. And only then I could stretch my arm to pull up people below me, for they remind me of my old self. I can’t wait to see people in their very best version of themselves.

I can’t wait to see the best of me which without all this mess, I would have never be one. And only then, I hope I can give you another embrace and hold your hand longer. And every insecurity will fade away from us.

Anyway, some lines from my queen;

how is it so easy for you to be kind to people

he asked

milk and honey dripped from my lips as i answered

cause people have not been kind to me

- Rupi Kaur, Milk and Honey

#infp #infp problems

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bridgeburningbucky · 7 years

Text

Bucky’s love for the 80s

I was working out today (and by work out I mean I just walked on the treadmill) and my work out playlist is a bunch of 80s bops. And it got me thinking, what if Bucky uses music to catch up on the time he’s missed and he’s currently on an 80s Journey (pun intended). And the reader is currently running on the treadmill while Bucky is doing weights in front of the big mirrors when Lovin, Touchin, Squeezin, by Journey comes through the gym speakers and Bucky gets really excited bc it’s one of his current faves (This song was released in 1979 but lets just pretend it made the 80s cut. I just love this song and the idea of Bucky wearing sweat bands ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) (Also this is my first little fic so yeah)

It’s Bucky’s and yours day to hit the gym. You choose to run on the treadmill while Bucky works with weights. The treadmills are stationed at the back of the Tower’s gym and Bucky’s back is turned to you but you can see him through the mirror on the wall doing curl ups with weights that could rival a professional weight lifter. It’s Bucky’s turn to play music and this time you find him on an 80s binge session.

Once Bucky had become more comfortable being in the modern age he became curious with learning about everything else he had missed while he was under Hydra’s control. Of course he became completely overwhelmed with 70 years worth of events and culture to catch up on. You suggested he should take it one decade at a time starting with finding music that he grew up listening to which in turn also helped him regain bits and pieces of his memories.

He made his way through Buddy Holly and loved everything about Elvis in the the 50s. The Animals in the 60s brought on his love for rock but his sweet spot was The Beach Boys. He was amazed with everything that came out of the 70s, he would make you listen to his playlist every night and would ask what those times were like to which your response was always, “I don’t know Bucky I wasn’t born yet.” Though that didn’t stop him from saying, “Doll you’re my disco queen.”

Now he was totally obsessed with anything from the 80s. It’s as though he was actually living through the decade, spending late nights watching all the iconic movies like The Breakfast Club. He even cried while watching E.T but his current inspiration was Ferris Buller’s Day Off. On his days off he would wear loose slacks, a white t-shirt, and he was currently looking for a cheetah print vest (which you were glad he hadn’t found yet). He even planned to go get his hair cut clean and short just like Ferris which if you’re being honest is something you were really looking forward to. You had seen pictures of Bucky from before the war and the look he was going for wasn’t that far off.

Though he didn’t just pick up mannerisms and styles from his “idol” but also other 80s trends. Which would explain why he was wearing sweat bands on his wrists which you could see every time he completed a curl up. What stood out the most was the neon green cheetah print tights he had underneath his shorts that you had managed to find on Amazon much to your dismay.

As you reached your fifth mile you hear the slow beat of a drum. It’s Bucky's favorite Journey song, Lovin, Touchin, Squeezin. His head snaps up and he makes eye contact with you through the mirror. He smirks as he sets the weights down, the start of the piano making his smirk grow wider.

Oh no.

You slow the speed down to a walking pace as he starts to walk towards the mirror to beat of the song.

“Bucky please don’t.”

Of course he doesn’t listen and turns, back against the mirror, his metal arm raised against the mirror and he drags his other hand down his chest as he goes down into a squat like some sort of exotic dancer.

“Where did you learn to do that?” you ask, feeling a bit of second hand embarrassment and flustered at the same time.

“What doll? You don’t think this is hot?” he asks getting on all fours and crawling his way towards you to the beat of the song.

You stop the treadmill completely and you cover your face with both hands. Bucky knows how shy you can get when it comes to PDA or anything remotely sexual that’s not in their bedroom.

“Come on babe look at me,” you shake your head. “I know you want to.”

You honestly think Bucky actually gets off on seeing you so embarrassed. He always makes fun of you because you’re this badass out on missions, beating the shit out of the bad guys but any little time he even remotely looks at you in a suggesting manner you hide and blush.

You look between your fingers and Bucky is standing in front of you with his hand outstretched towards you. You shake your head but that doesn’t stop him from pulling you flush agains him.

“Come on doll, you know this turns you on. Lets have some fun.”

“Bucky,” you whine. You bury your face in his neck and this just makes him chuckle.

His hands go under your thighs and takes you by surprise wrapping your hands around his neck.

He takes you and sets you down on a bench, facing the mirrors. He turns towards the mirrors and smirks as he says, “Friday, restart the song.”

You can see in the mirror your face turns red.

“I hate you.”

Bucky throws his head back and laughs and it brings a small smile to your face because you remember a time when he wouldn’t even make eye contact with anyone. But then your smile falls when the first words of the song play, you let out a gasp

You make me weep, I wanna die Just when you say we’d try

Bucky bends down, his ass in your face, your eyes go wide and you can see him chuckle through the mirror. He slowly stands up and grabs both of your hands, dragging them down his chest.

Lovin’, touchin’, squeezin each other When I’m alone all by myself You’re out with someone else

As both your hands keep making their way down,

Lovin’

Your hands shake

Touchin’

They stop at his already hard member.

Squeezin’

“Look at me doll”

Your eyes make their way up and you make eye contact with him through the mirror. Your pupils are blown and your face is flushed. You can feel the heat pool in your underwear and your breathing has become ragged. He makes you squeeze him again and leaves your hand there, wrapping your left hand on his thick thigh. He brings his hands up to his chest again.

You’re tearin’ me apart

He grabs the neckline of his tank and he tears it apart. He discards the now ruined shirt and he grabs your left hand bringing it up to his mouth. He puts your index and middle finger in his mouth and slowly sucks on them. Moaning around them as you start to rub him through his shorts.

“That’s it doll, it’s just you and me,” he says, neither of you taking your eyes off of each other.

At this point he stops following along with the song and releases your fingers from his mouth. He switches positions with you, taking you by surprise. Now he’s behind you dragging his hands all over your front. His metal arm goes for your left breast as his right arm makes its way down your leggings.

In the heat of the moment you still notice that when the chorus comes on again he squeezes your breast when Squeezin is sang. “You smug bastard,” he chuckles.

You can feel two of his fingers find your clit, making you arch up against him as he finds a rhythm with the song. The wetness in your panties has spread and he makes it a point to mention it in a husky whisper against your air, “You’re so fucking wet for me Y/N, this is all for me isn’t it?” You can’t take your eyes off of him and you nod frantically letting a breathy, “Yes.”

With his metal hand he goes to take your tank off and you hurriedly help him, your nipples going hard as they feel the cold air of the room. His fingers take their place back on your breast as he pulls and twists your nipple. His hand down your pussy never missing a beat. You start to feel the overwhelming sensation as your orgasm approaches.

He knows you’re close and he stares at you as he says, “You look so beautiful like this, exposed just for me. Do you want my cock? You always look beautiful with my cock in you.” With every word he grinds his cock into your ass as his fingers speed up and your moans continue to come out faster and faster until finally it hits you. “That’s it doll,” he kisses your temple as his fingers continue to slowly circle around your clit as you ride your climax out.

You grab onto the hand that’s still wrapped around your breast and you make sure you look him in the eye when you ask, “Please can I have you cock now James?”

His jaw visibly clenches and his nostrils flare and you know he’s just as worked up as you are, “Fuck baby, since you asked so nicely.”

He lets go of you for a split second as he pulls down his tights and shorts, sitting down on the bench. He pulls back towards him and he does the same with your leggings. He lets out a moan as he gives his cock a few tugs before spreading your legs on either side of him. You moan as he rubs the head of his cock against you, his places his right hand on your shoulder and slowing slides inside.

Looking at the mirror both of you moan, mouths open in an o shape. Once he’s completely immersed in you he lets you get used to his girth but you have other plans. You swivel your hips, letting out a loud moan as his cock hits the one spot that can make you scream. “Such a needy girl.”

The song has been over by now and there’s nothing to be heard but your pants and his voice as he commands, “Bounce on my cock doll.”

You don’t have to be told twice and your start bouncing, his metal hand gripping your hip guiding you. Eyes still connected he says, “Look at us Y/N, look how pornographic you look taking my cock.” You don’t take you eyes off of him, refusing to look at the image of you two on the mirror. He takes his flesh hand and grabs your face making you break eye contact with him. He forces you to look at the two of you. “Look how well you take me.”

You can see where both your bodies are connected, slick coating the inside of your thighs, and your breasts bouncing with every move you make. Instead of feeling shy and dirty, you feel this burst of confidence from how hot the image is. The bliss on Bucky’s face while he praises you does something to you and you can feel yourself get wetter.

Bucky’s fingers make their way down your front again, placing his fingers on your clit once again. The wet sounds from your combined juices sounding loud in the room. Just the thought of soaking Bucky’s legs brings you to your second climax, your walls tightening around his cock once more. You let out a silent moan as you slowly grind down on his cock, hearing Bucky guide you through it, “That’s it, that’s it. So good for me doll.”

You feel so sensitive and you can still feel how hard Bucky is inside you. You look at him through the mirror and he has this almost pained expression as he stares back at your blissed out face. “One more baby, do you have one more for me?” You shake your head, you feel exhausted and you don’t think you have it in you. “Just one more, for me?” He gives you these puppy dog eyes that you can’t resist so you nod your head because you don’t think you’re capable of speech.

He pulls out of you and guides you to the mirrors, “Place both hands on the mirror doll.” You do as he says, spreading your legs as he slides right back inside. He’s been on the verge of cumming for a while now that he starts off at a brutal fast pace. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as he repeatedly hits your gspot, the wet noise as he fucks you louder than before. Looking up at his face you can see that he’s close. He brings his hand back down one last time and rubs your overly sensitive nub to the speed of his thrusts.

“Just one more,” he whispers as your walls tighten and you feel this overwhelming pressure in your core as you climax one last time. You scream as you squirt, Bucky letting out a breathy “Oh fuck.” You can see it dripping down your legs on to the floor, some splashing on the mirror itself.

It doesn’t take long before Bucky thrusts one last time, burying his cock in you as you feel him cum in thick spurts, adding to the already wet mess between your thighs.

“Holy shit,” you whisper as both of you try and catch your breathes.

“I think I love the 80s.”

“Please throw away your sweat bands.”

“Never.”

#buck barnes #bucky x reader #bucky smut

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fennbirn-fandom · 7 years

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Okay I know this is a lot but reading this guy’s thoughts gives you all the feels of reading the book all over again and it is amazing (x)

1. Okay first of all I am SO excited it’s starting back at Greavesdrake 2. Love this little poison bitch 3. “These are only a bit of fun.” I am living 4. I cannot wait for this reunion omg I can’t wait for ANYTHING

5. Book one Katharine vs. book two Katharine:

6. Fifty bucks says Thomas and Michael don’t make it to book three 7. Maybe it would be easier if Joseph didn’t make it to book three 8. Omg that’s right if Arsinoe wins as a poisoner then the poisoners will want to claim her as their own dang there is so much going on 9. I LOVE THIS BOOK 10. Wait did they never kiss in the first book 11. Are you kidding me Joseph and Mirabella shacked up in a seaside cavern and the real royal couple is out here willing to die for each other without ever having locked lips?? 12. Ew imagine someone spit on you I would scream 13. “Next time it won’t be spit. Next time it’ll be a knife!” LMAO WHAT 14. Can you IMAGINE 15. They’re already going to fight I can’t believe this 16. I love Bree 17. I’m screaming Kat just enjoys RUNNING PEOPLE DOWN in her free time 18. WHO IS THIS GIRL 19. Black marble and spitting gargoyles is such an aesthetic 20. I lied the GODDESS STONE is an aesthetic 21. Omg she’s referring to herself as “us” this is amazing 22. Luke/Hank 2020

23. THERE IS GOING TO BE A FIGHT 24. MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ME

25. I love that every single character is like “Well I don’t WANT to kill them, but also I myself do not want to die, so,”

26. Except for Jules she would absolutely kill a man

27. Do I love or hate Madrigal? I just don’t know 28. WHAT 29. Omggg I love this I love Jules 30. Wait DROWN HER these people are so DRAMATIC 31. I want to know more about every single gift 32. They’re gonna fight!! 33. They’re gonna fight!!!!!!! 34. Mirabella the bear isn’t there just KILL HER

35. Ok if these girls didn’t have such a flair for drama I guarantee this war would already be over

36. “Mirabella has found her nerve.” Yes she has 37. Lmao jokes she still won’t kill her 38. Like… just do it!!! Just kill her!!!!!!!!!! 39. WELP now you CAN’T because there’s a BEAR 40. Katharine is insane THAT’S FUN 41. You know I’ve always wanted to learn how to throw knives 42. Omg Pietyr?! 43. Jk 44. I don’t know Nicolas but I love him 45. Don’t you DARE throw my queen off a cliff 46. “He doesn’t smell like the last one.” Billy the last one was dead 47. BILLY’S GOING TO THE WESTWOODS 48. Honesty, the DRAMA 49. “Because I saw you first,” ugh I love them

50. I can’t believe I’m only a quarter of the way through this book I need a nap

51. Ugh why doesn’t anyone love Mirabella 52. Don’t worry I love you Mirabella

53. PREGNANT 54. SHE’S PREGNANT 55. Oh my god 56. Thomas and Michael are here someone get the death cannon ready 57. AHHH 58. What did I say 59. “At least they were cousins,” Katharine PLEASE 60. I want a buddy-cop spinoff where Natalia and Luca fight crime 61. Aw okay at least Mira has a friend Billy is nice

62. “Where is your bear?” “WELL HE’S NOT IN MY POCKET.”

63. I love Billy Chatworth, Worst Cook on Fennbirn Island ™

64. Nicolas lmao wtf 65. WHO IS THIS GUY 66. PIIIIIEEEETTTYYYYYRRRRR 67. “But you will never have me again.” Bye I just screamed 68. You know I think I’d want the war gift it’s so vague and powerful

69. “It only gives you powers over weapons,” you say 70. “ANYTHING CAN BE A WEAPON,” I scream in response

71. I love Katharineeeeeeee 72. Omg wait and Rho can’t publicly help Mirabella 73. So much is happening 74. Oh my god 75. Yeah curse the queens THIS SEEMS LIKE A GOOD IDEA 76. Can’t wait for this one to go wrong 77. “What’s this gonna do btw?” “Oh lmao idk” Super 78. Oh my god 79. Ohhhhh my god 80. Here we GO 81. Can I just say again that I love Nicolas the psychopath 82. Pietyr is going to slap him 83. “This is your life. Don’t tell me to stay out of it.” 84. Imagine this book from Braddock’s POV 85. Omg just KISS ALREADY

86. This is all VERY High School Musical 2

87. Imagine a plot twist that reveals Billy as the true naturalist queen 88. “I’ll love you for as long as I live.” Oh no 89. Everyone is ready for surprise murder but I’m watching Hairspray as I read this and it’s creating quite the interesting mood 90. Lmao I love Katharine and Nicolas!!! What little psychopaths!!!!!! 91. I love Katharine!!!!!!!!!!!! 92. This is amazing 93. I LOVE DRAMA 94. “But that is not fair!” Mira, buddy, pal, 95. SHE SLEPT THROUGH THE ENTIRE FESTIVAL LMAO NO!!! 96. JULLIENNE MILONE!!!!! 97. HOW IS THERE STILL MORE THAN HALF THE BOOK LEFT 98. This girl is literally being HUNTED 99. Omg please Braddock go go go follow her 100. Mirabella NO!!!! 101. Omg omg omg omgggggg 102. I’M SO STRESSED 103. Sidenote I love Mirabella and Arsinoe together 104. WHAT 105. WHAT!!!!!!! 106. JULES 107. JULES IS HERE 108. JULES!!!!! 109. LMAO THEY STOLE HER HORSE I’M SCREAMING 110. Oh my god Katharine no don’t SAY THAT

111. Honestly I don’t super remember Bree from the first book but would I die for her now? Absolutely

112. I’m so stressed 113. THEY WENT TO CARAGH 114. Lol TBH makes it sound like a jewelry commercial 115. “They went to Caragh!” Madrigal will cry, clutching her diamonds 116. “Until they were six, they were mine.” 117. Um @ the Young Queens WHERE ARE YOU 118. Mirabella/Billy 2020 119. Lmao yo I am so freaking excited for Arsinoe to make her dramatic return 120. I’m just thinking about it!! Ah!!!! 121. A DUEL 122. This is madness I need a break and a nap and a snack immediately 123. Katharine!!!!! You can’t just THROW BACK a cup of poison!! Honestly!!!

124. “You cannot kill,” she says, causing me to GASP, “what is already dead.”

125. SHE ALREADY KNEW

126. I can’t decide if I want Katharine, Pietyr, and Nicolas to all destroy each other or if they are the toxic, murderous OT3 of my dreams 127. The venn diagram of those two things may just be a circle

128. KAT JUST FOUND OUT ABOUT THE CHALLENGE 129. Omg she’s throwing a TANTRUM I’m living 130. “I will hold a ball the night before,” This is my ideal dark gothic aesthetic

131. “What if the Goddess is on her side?” “It does not matter. They are on mine.”

132. Why do I picture Madrigal exactly as Alice Cooper from Riverdale 133. She’s going to help Mirabella!!! She’s going to help Mirabella!!!!!!! 134. I’m serious can I vote for Mirabella and Billy on the ticket in 2020 135. Oh my god no 136. No no no I refuse to believe they have their hooks in him 137. THEY CANNOT HAVE THEIR HOOKS IN BILLY 138. He’s a horrible cook he would never fit in with the feast-loving Arrons 139. I love Mirabella

140. Oh my god Katharine 141. Oh my goddddd 142. LMAO WHAT THE F#&K 143. “We have not been your Katharine since you threw me down the Breccia Domain.” WHAT THE F#&KKK!!!!!!!! LMAO!!!?! 144. HE’S GOING BACK TO THE BRECCIA DOMAIN!!

145. Meanwhile, Arsinoe, on a mule, 146. Just looking at the names of the chapters left is stressing me out 147. NAT IS SLEEPING WITH BILLY’S DAD I just CHOKED

148. THERE’S SO MUCH DRAMA AROUND EVERY TURN

149. Oh thank god their hooks are not in Billy yet 150. Omg omg Jules is at the ball here we go here we GO it’s happening

151. “Before Katharine and her suitor take their place amid the Arrons, dazzling in their snakes and scorpions, Katharine cocks her head at Mirabella and winks. Nicolas smiles at Billy and discreetly spits onto the floor.” I’m just obsessed with this entire snippet

152. Oh Joseph honey no go home 153. ARSINOE!! 154. “Dancing with my sister,” Oh my god 155. This is what I LIVE FOR 156. “I am not afraid. I am angry.” 157. “I may be the weakest, but I am a queen, through and through.” 158. Oh my god

159. I NEED TO SEE THIS SCENE ON A BIG SCREEN

160. “They are tired of it.” I SCREAMED

161. Oh my godddd he’s going in 162. HE’S GOING IN THE BRECCIA DOMAIN 163. Oh my god 164. Oh my g o d d d 165. AHHHHHHHHHHHHH 166. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 167. Oh my GOD WHAT A SCENE I SHOULD NOT HAVE READ THIS AT NIGHT!!!

168. Pepper………… 169. Of all the characters I love… I would be ok with Rho dying at any time 170. @ Kendare just fyi 171. Oh my god they pulled it off HOW 172. Of course Arsinoe is thinking of food though 173. F#&k f#&k f#&k here we go 174. I am horrified for what Katharine’s reign of terror would mean 175. Tag yourself I’m the priestess weeping as she fastens Mirabella’s dress 176. Ugh Kat 177. Ok she’s horrifying but she’s also amazing this arena entrance is everything 178. THERE THEY ARE!!!!! 179. “Yes, me again.” JULES FOR QUEEN 180. SHE KNOWS THAT ARSINOE REMEMBERS HER 181. Omg I’m so emotional 182. JULES!!! “She punches the first in the eye and knocks back another three.”

183. “I’m sorry you thought I was dead.” “I’m sorry I agreed to marry your sister.”

184. Oh no Luca no don’t 185. A concept: Madrigal slapping Natalia Arron 186. “Or perhaps there were more sides to a woman than he had ever understood.” Lol oh Billy you simple boy 187. Ugh it was WILLIAM 188. Omg the throwbacks to the very first chapter of the first book I’m dying 189. A tattooed crown they are NOT f#&king around 190. NICOLAS MARTEL 191. “Arsinoe has been banging her head against the stone wall for what seems like hours. But there is no way to tell for sure.” Me in class

192. LMAO IS SHE GOING TO POISON ARSINOE 193. STOP I’M GOING TO SCREAM 194. This is EVERYTHING

195. AND THERE’S A WEDDING 196. Ew Nicolas I changed my mind I don’t love him not one bit 197. “Though perhaps this is what he truly is underneath. Angry, and ugly, and small.” Aren’t all men 198. Oh my god 199. THIS WAS NOT A FIGHT I WAS EXPECTING 200. Ohhhhhh my god 201. YES RHO 202. I lied Kendare thank you for this fierce and wonderful gift of a character 203. “Roll him up in a rug,” LMAO 204. “After all, Mirabella’s first tears were real, before she looked down and realized that Arsinoe was grinning.” I can’t I love them so much 205. Omg wait if Natalia… what does that mean for her deal with Luca?! 206. “Oh!” I LIED I WANT A MIRABELLA/ARSINOE BUDDY-COP SPINOFF 207. God bless Joseph taking responsibility for his actions 208. “How I love you, Jules.” I’m so emo 209. ARSINOE!!!!! 210. Ew someone please kill Nicolas already 211. “… So hard that she hears a crack. That must be good,” I’m dying 212. I LOVE MIRABELLA 213. I WANT HER TO BURN THE ENTIRE CITY DOWN 214. Oh god Joseph 215. THE WARRIORS 216. Oh my god 217. Oh my god oh my goddddd what 218. That is BRUTAL 219. What a way to go, my man

220. “I failed you once. I betrayed you once. But I will not again.”

221. “I’m fine,” Joseph says, CLEARLY LYING 222. Oh my god Genevieve 223. THIS IS SUCH A DYSFUNCTIONAL TRIO 224. AND NOW THEY KNOW EVERYONE HAS ESCAPED 225. Oh my god so much is happening 226. Pietyr is the one true king someone bring him the Iron Throne or whatever the f#&k they have on this cursed and twisted island 227. “It is just that she will be the last.” 228. Omg they’re gonna GOOOO 229. Third time’s the charm, maybe??

230. I’m telling you Jules and Pietyr are going to have to duel and that will decide who the true ruler of Fennbirn Island will be

231. Jules will obliterate him and I will be sad for approximately thirty seconds and then extremely happy for my new queen

232. Aw I loved Madrigal in this book 233. I LOVE THIS LIL’ MOTLEY CREW 234. Lmao I wonder how long Genevieve will last now. What will she do 235. “Then she looks back at the sea and the confrontation that is about to take place there.” I’m so scared for my lil’ motley crew!!! 236. FINALLY!!!! THE KISS!!! 237. Omg come on Mirabella come onnnnn

238. Oh no 239. Oh no Joseph 240. … Oh my god? 241. Oh my god did they do it??? 242. THEY DID IT 243. Oh n o

244. JULES NO!!!

245. WHAT THE F#&K, MAN 246. … I’m telling you she needs to be queen 247. Oh my god 248. I can’t believe they… made it 249. Oh my g o d

#three dark crowns #one dark throne #kendare blake #epicreads

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