#and this is why i will never trust any currently airing television show. like. you can never trust these people

[kiss2012]

911 spoilers have me. well. fairly upset.

[junghelioseok]

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I��m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

-

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

[querldyke]

Thank you, @nerfherdingteleporter bc I HAVE BEEN WAITING TO TALK ABOUT THIS (and by waiting I mean I made a TikTok about this a few months ago but no one really paid it any attention). For context, in issue #100 of Robin, Tim mentions owning a box set of Buffy. So why does Tim this break continuity rules/universe rules?

1) Buffy already has a DC comics counterpart: Wendy the Werewolf Stalker complete with its own version of the characters as well as the spinoff show and the actors/writers of the show, so it would be weird for there to be two identical shows with identical casts that only changed the main monster with Buffy’s vampires being werewolves

2) (and more importantly imo) Buffy fails The Zeppo Test and therefore can not exist as a show within the DC universe.

So what is The Zeppo Test? Basically it’s a little test I created to decide if one media could exist in another as it exists in our world. I.e. Star Wars being referenced in Buffy makes sense because it’s a movie and nothing within Star Wars would impact the plot of Buffy because Buffy does not exist in the SW universe and therefore the lore that exists within Buffy doesn’t exist in SW. (idk if this makes sense, but just trust me).

The reason why Buffy can not exist within the DC universe is simple, it exposes lore that exists in the DC universe that the public should not know. For example in the season 3 episode The Zeppo, the big running joke is that one of the characters is the Jimmy Olsen of the group, this on its own is fine. Jimmy Olsen is a public figure and it is well known that he is associated with two big reporters Lois Lane and Clark Kent, and if that was where the reference ended, that would be fine. The line is “But, gee, Mr. White, if Clark and Lois get all the good stories, I'll *never* be a good reporter.” While maybe it would be weird to reference a random photographer, it’s not universe breaking. This episode passes The Zeppo Test, but other episodes such as Never Kill a Boy on the First Day cross the line with lines such as “This is the 90's. The 1990's, in point of fact, and I can do both. Clark Kent has a job. I just wanna go on a date.” This reference would not make sense without the knowledge that Clark Kent is Superman and this knowledge is not something that could air to the public within the DC universe (at least in the 90’s) because it wasn’t known, making a reference like this impossible to exist. The show is rife with references to superheroes (particularly Superman) which means that its existence in its current state would absolutely break continuity since you’d have people in 1998 saying on national television that Clark Kent is Superman.

I’m very aware that this is all very silly and not at all important and I also know this probably is pretty incoherent but yeah this is my answer.

[gra-sonas]

A new episode of Roswell New Mexico titled “Missing My Baby” airs tonight (August 1) at 8PM ET/PT on The CW, and to promote this week’s episode, we were able to speak with actress Rekha Sharma who plays Dr. Shivani Sen in the current season. Sharma is no stranger to TV audiences, especially fans of genre television, having been seen on such series as Smallville, Supernatural, Star Trek: Discovery, Battlestar Galactica, V, and The 100; she was also recently seen on Showtime’s Yellowjackets and is in the upcoming series The Imperfects.

“Missing My Baby” aims to be a big one for her character of Shivani and you can read our interview below.

KSITETV’S CRAIG BYRNE: Would you say that tonight’s episode of Roswell New Mexico is where Shivani is finally out with it about why she is in Roswell working with Liz?

REKHA SHARMA: It does seem like she’s much more open, and certainly, it has the most exciting moments that we’ve had so far, in terms of making this discovery and acquiring this technology.

How much of Shivani’s story arc was laid out for you when you signed on?

REKHA SHARMA: I had a really rough sketch of the whole thing, and I was looking forward to seeing the specifics on how it unfolded as we went along. These scripts are so fun.

Is it rewarding as an actor to play a role that can see through other people’s BS?

REKHA SHARMA: She does! She really looks, and listens, and sees where people are coming from, I think.

You’ve been in so many acclaimed TV programs. What made this show and this character special for you?

REKHA SHARMA: There was something about it that just leapt off the page for me when I got the audition. This woman is so full of life. She felt like a female Tony Stark to me, with all the money and the intelligence and the desire to help forward humanity by working with incredibly intelligent people. And she’s just got a drive to her and a wit. That’s really fun. I hope that all comes across.

For those unfamiliar with Shivani, what has she done in the current season of Roswell New Mexico so far?

REKHA SHARMA: She has made an alliance with Liz that was not welcome at first, but she has through her sincerity and her ability to listen, and her warmth and kindness, been able to forge a real connection and some trust, even though she’s doing some strange things and riling people up a little bit.

How frustrating is it for her that with all of her money and connections, there are certain things that she cannot save?

REKHA SHARMA: Absolutely heartbreaking. I think it’s part of her wisdom and her intelligence, but it’s her blind spot all at once if that makes any sense. That’s life. It doesn’t matter how much money you have, there are things you can’t change, and certainly not with money. You might be able to change more with other things.

How far would she go to save her daughter?

REKHA SHARMA: I think she’s willing to go further than she even knows.

Would she possibly put the aliens in danger to save her?

REKHA SHARMA: I think she has a true enough heart that she would never choose anything like that on purpose. But in her heartache, grief is intense… the possibility of losing somebody you love is absolutely blinding, and I think she might miss some things.

What was it like to film in New Mexico?

REKHA SHARMA: I loved it. It was challenging with the elevation and the lack of humidity, so climate-wise, it was quite an adjustment coming from Vancouver. The people in the town of Santa Fe are so lovely. I did a lot of hiking; the nature there is gorgeous, and I’m definitely a nature-oriented person. The crews on this show, and the cast… everyone was just such a breath of fresh air. Really authentic, warm people. It was a really special time.

Will we see Shivani’s wife again before the series is over?

REKHA SHARMA: You’ll have to wait and see!

[ckneal]

So, there’s this one angel story in the back of my head that I know I wont write. I wont write it, because it’s utter nonsense, with very little regard for the canonical timeline of Supernatural, and a willfully blurry view on what is and is not “in character.” It’s fluff. It’s all fluff, in the form of a bunch of smaller stories that gradually weave together, following the Love, Actually style of storytelling, but instead of problematic love stories, it’s all about angels playing hooky from Heaven after the Fall.

(Seriously, there is no substance here, I swear.)

Stories include Abner, living out the first half of the movie Family Man, struggling to figure out how to be a good father and house husband after he steps into the life of the raging alcoholic who agreed to be his vessel. There’s also a very minor story about Esther (not to be confused with Hester, who is not in this story because she never deserted her post in Heaven) learning to play the part of a little girl and navigating schoolyard politics, but kids can be mean and Esther learns the hard way that Michael’s approach to asserting dominance in Heaven does not translate well. There’s also Daniel and Adina, who both settle into vessels in the same movie theater where a romantic comedy is playing, and fall into a very innocent, play-acting sort of love after they leave the theatre—like little kids pretending to be in love, recreating the scenes from the movie, but at the same time not really understanding it. Balthazar, Gabriel, and Anael each trying to roll with the luxurious high roller life style, and awkwardly running into each other at VIP poker games, exclusive spas and clubs, and the occasional orgy that they promptly leave IMMEDATELY after running into a sibling (don’t give me weird looks, Balthazar and Gabriel canonically include that sort of thing in their definition of luxury, and the whole thing of their story is their siblings keep cramping their style). Tyrus is in there bowling, somewhere. Benjamin’s playing arcade games with his wife. And then there’s Thaddeus, my pet favorite minor angel character, realizing what’s happening as he’s falling with all the other faithful angels during the Fall and seizing the opportunity to abandon his life as a guard and torturer, settling into a pop star for his vessel—initially for the sake of the cushy lifestyle, but then gradually looking back, before the garden and Lucifer, before everyone was assigned a job in Heaven, like it or not, and the options were to adapt or to be smote, and remembering that back then, he could sing.

And of course, Michael and Adam get a story too—in which Michael lowkey gets into a pissing contest with death, as he and Adam travel the world, hitting up hospital after hospital to heal people. Because the first thing Adam wanted to do after getting out of the cage (okay, second thing—burgers came first) was go to the nearest medical center and start healing people left and right. And at first, they’re having a great time. Adam steals a white jacket he finds in the breakroom somewhere, and anytime someone says he looks a little young to be a doctor (Adam still looking nineteen years old, because I say so), Michael wipes the poor sap’s mind. But eventually—sometime after they’ve cleared out the children’s ward, the cancer ward, the cardiac ward—Billie shows up, sniping at them that they can’t just go around healing people who are destined to die, because there is an order to life and death that cannot be shoved aside. And Billie tries to make a show of it, as Terra did with Dean, by having several people who Adam had healed over the course of the day inadvertently cause several massive accidents. The news suddenly comes pouring out of the television, channels flipping as newscasters talk about tragedies occurring in several different parts of the city they’re currently in. The sound of approaching ambulance sirens fills the air, as in the hospital hallway, doctors and nurses begin hurrying to receive a rush of ER patients.

Adam’s horrified.

Michael does not take kindly to this. He snaps his fingers and makes it so that the carnage has never happened. Because he is the archangel Michael, only two steps away from being a god, and if he says that all of these people are going to live, then they are going to live, and he WILL NOT be intimidated, especially by an amateur reaper whose only qualification for her position was dying at the right time.

Billie in turn lands Michael with a cold stare, and points out that the order to life and death is beyond even God’s authority, let alone daddy’s blunt, sniveling instrument.

As Michael’s eyes start to glow, Adam steps in and says, “So, to be clear, you want us to stop healing people on the verge of death? We can do that.”

After Billie leaves, Michael is outraged, but Adam says, “No, Michael, THINK about it.”

We then cut to other stories, where newscasts in the background reveal that ailments that are not IMMIEDATELY fatal (AIDs, diabetes, Alzheimer’s, etc.) are mysteriously disappearing overnight, worldwide.

Billie is not amused, and tells her reapers to be on the lookout for an archangel at every major hospital in the world.

Cut to Michael throwing open the door of the bunker, muttering aloud to Adam that he’s going to do it, he’s going to bind Death, just like Lucifer did—how hard can it be? Sam and Dean see him as he goes stomping off toward the cabinet where they keep all of their magical dry goods, but Michael snaps his fingers and the two of them are abruptly half drunk in Dean’s man cave, sitting in front of Dean’s flat screen TV, watching some campy monster movie, because that’s lowkey what Michael and Adam assume they do all day.

As they’re raiding Sam and Dean’s supplies though, Adam says, “Wait, I have an idea.”

Cut to Abner looking up while pushing his vessel’s daughter in a park swing, and literally seeing Michael and Adam chasing an ambulance, so they can technically heal the person inside before reaching the hospital.

Yes, I’m aware that Abner was dead by the time Michael and Adam got out of the cage. But see, this story? This story is like when someone gifts you a goldfish unexpectedly, and you put it in a bowl, checking in to feed it a couple times a day, lowkey expecting it to die. But it doesn’t die, it gets bigger. And you’re not a cruel person, so you put it in a bigger tank, but it just gets bigger again, and you don’t really know what’s going on, but you know, you just kind of keep checking in, meeting the minimum requirements but not really getting in there as a guiding force because it’s a goldfish and it’s surely going to die any minute now—but then you look over and there’s giant tank taking up your living room, and you’re thawing out bloodworms twice a day, and looking into tankmates to keep Charles company, and realize that “Oh wow, I guess this is a thing now.”

In short, the story says we’re ignoring the timeline, and it’s calling the shots. I’m just keeping the tank clean.

The angels all eventually wind up running into each other. Abner and Esther happen upon one another in a park, where Esther is morosely realizing that she is terrible at being a human child but she does not want to go home to Heaven, and it just happens to be the same park where Abner goes with his “little nibblet” once a day to let her toddle around the playground while he chats with nannies and other house parents. Anael, Adina, and Daniel meet up when the latter two’s game has reached the point where they’ve decided to get married, and they apparently need to buy something new—preferably blue—as per this very important rhyme someone told them about. Esther and Gabriel run into each other in an ice cream parlor. Thaddeus gets recognized while doing an interview on TV that everyone sees. And, while out joyriding in a Lamborghini, on their way to meet up with the growing community of angels who decided to opt out of their responsibility to Heaven and their father’s legacy, Balthazar, Gabriel, and Anael are all startled to see Michael land on an ambulance stopped next to them at a red light.

Balthazar and Anael are both terrified, as if they’ve just been busted by a parent, because Michael, of course, is the guy who enforces the rules, and isn’t he supposed to be in Hell? They both shoot Gabriel looks as if to say ‘what the hell are you doing’ when Gabriel, watching as Michael climbs down and matter-of-factly wrenches the ambulance doors open, calls out, “Hey, Mike! Is that you?”

Michael looks over, freezes for a second—not prepared to be suddenly thrust into a social situation in the middle of his self-imposed mission to spite death—then his eyes flash and Adam takes over. “Oh hey, you’re Michael’s family? What a small world! I’m Adam, I’ve heard so much about you. Wait, hang on—”

The light starts to turn green, but Adam snaps his fingers and it promptly reverts to red.

Three jaws drop in the luxury car, and they don’t even hear Adam politely explain that he and Michael are in the middle of something, as he ducks into the ambulance, because Michael’s evidently letting a tiny human use his powers like it’s nothing, and what does that mean?

“Sweet dad in the unknown, Michael’s shagging a human. . .”

“Nooo!”

“HOW?”

“Hey, kid, you like weddings?”

At some point in the story, all the MIA angels are together, and Benjamin or someone comes running in saying, “Quick, they’re coming! Everyone hide!”

And everyone scatters, except for Michael, who stands in place, saying, “Gabriel, we’re archangels, two of the most powerful beings in existence. Why would we—”

And then Gabriel picks Adam up like a sack of potatoes and sprints off, calling back, “Trust me, you do NOT want to get involved with them!”

Being a projection, Michael is obligated to follow.

Team Free Will then walks by, looking constipated from whatever Big Awful Thing is currently threatening to destroy the world.

The story, of course, culminates in the wedding of Adina and Daniel, who still don’t quite understand what marriage is beyond promising to love each forever, which of course they will, after all, they are the very best of friends—which is about the same concept that most of the other angels present have. Adam is the first one to actually approach the big awkward question, upon finding out who the bride and groom are.

“Wait, aren’t they brother and sister?”

To which Serafina’s Adam, (who is of course there since Serafina was the original angel to play hooky) whose sons married his daughters, and all the angels, who do not understand what that has to do with anything, all cock their heads in unison and respond with, “So?”

Adam struggles to find words, looking into so many innocent faces. Then Benjamin’s wife puts a hand on his shoulder, whispering, “Shhh, let them have their fun.”

Benjamin’s wife and the two Adams wind up sitting at the venue’s bar, where they order nachos from a very confused bar tender, and watch as the angels go about setting up a wedding. But given that most angels haven’t been on earth regularly in roughly two thousand years, none of them have a clear grasp of what a human wedding entails.

“I heard it’s traditional for the father to give away the bride.”

“I think they’re supposed to kiss over bread.”

“Do humans still slaughter cows at these things?”

“I’m pretty sure someone is supposed to break a glass—”

Several angels promptly throw glassware on the floor.

At no point do the angels ask the humans for advice.

Occasionally, Gabriel knowingly throws out obscure details to keep the confusion going.

“You know, the groom needs to stand with the right arm to the aisle in case a sword fight breaks out.”

“Right! . . .How do we know which one’s the groom?”

At the bar, Adam open’s his mouth to say something, but the original Adam shushes him.

“No no, son, let them get there.”

The angels agree that being the better fighter, Adina should be the groom.

They’re nearly ready to start when Michael suddenly doubles over with his hand over his mouth. It coincides with the sound of Adam pounding the bar top, having just eaten a Carolina Reaper pepper on dare. Michael’s eyes quickly flash silver-blue as he straightens, and both he and Adam are abruptly fine—even if their eyes are still watering somewhat. But a different sort of damage has already been done, as Anael, Balthazar, and Gabriel all abruptly turn toward the triad of humans, having been reminded that the Michael walking around with them is actually a projection. In actuality, Michael is anchored to the human ex-college student sitting at the bar.

All three of them rush toward Adam, but Serafina gets there first, asking Adam if he’s ever tried mushroom tea.

Balthazar gets there next. 

“Adam, was it? We didn’t get to talk in the car, let’s fix that. Are you over twenty-one? You know what, this is a family affair, don’t worry—CAN I GET TWO SHOTS OF DON JULIO OVER HERE?”

From that point on, any time Adam turns around, there’s one of Michael’s siblings, wanting to get to know him—by consuming some sort of beverage. Because Adam and Michael are sharing body—and that means they share a liver too. A bet ensues as to how much it will take to get God’s alleged favorite wasted.

Gabriel’s actually one of the first out, having been convinced that Michael would be a lightweight. Little does he suspect that Benjamin and his wife caught onto what was happening soon after Adam was fed his third long island iced tea and second jager bomb, and began quietly cleansing the alcohol from his system through casual shoulder pats and high fives.

Adam does not know what to make of any of this, but it’s Michael’s family and he wants to make a good impression, so he just goes with it.

Thaddeus, of course, is in charge of music, Gabriel and Esther consume the majority of the cake, and Michael catches the bouquet (he may have cheated after finding out what the bouquet toss is for).

[chaerincore]

"THE SECRET DIARIES" DOCU-SERIES

EPISODE 3 "CLOSURE"

AIR DATE FEBRUARY 14, 2022

SUMMARY eunwoo shares the struggles that he faced with sakura as long-time trainees, the feeling of losing part of his childhood, and why it’s so much harder today to show his true self.

EPISODE MASTERLIST

"WHILE WATCHING SAKURA FILM ALONE JUST NOW, I REALLY DID FEEL MORE TERRIFIED THAN I DID WHEN WE FIRST DEBUTED ON TELEVISION." EUNWOO ADMITTED AS HE MADE HIMSELF COMFORTABLE ON THE CUSHIONED COUCH, A NERVOUS SMILE GRACED HIS LIPS, "I’VE NEVER REALLY OPENED UP TO THE WORLD BEFORE. BEING VULNERABLE WITH ANYONE BESIDES MY MEMBERS IS SOMETHING I’M NOT THE BEST AT, BUT I WANT TO TRY.”

THE QUESTIONS ROUND

YOU TRAINED FOR NEARLY EIGHT YEARS BEFORE DEBUTING. THIS MEANS YOU WERE NO MORE THAN TWELVE YEARS OLD WHEN YOU STARTED. WHAT WAS IT LIKE? WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO BECOME AN IDOL?

“i was always in love with singing, and it’s also something that one of my older sisters, soomin, loves too. i knew i had a gift long before i was eleven. i wanted to be like my sister, who is also an idol herself, and sing on a stage one day. i wanted to become an idol because of her, she’s just so incredible, kind, and talented. our parents were never fond of us being performers because they felt it wasn’t a reasonable or secure career, but both soomin and i were so determined that convincing us otherwise was useless. in my early years as a trainee, my parents still helped out a lot and let me chase my dreams despite not fully being on board with it… but as soon as i turned 16, i moved into this hole-in-the-wall apartment with sakura, we put our money together and somehow made it work. we were just kids, but we had each other and we were too stubborn to give up.”

“being a trainee for so long had really put my self-confidence and trust to the test — so many years passing and still not debuting? it can be very discouraging, and the fact that my original 2016 debut was cancelled too didn’t make it any better. it’s hard because you question if you’re doing enough, but learning how to trust the process became such an important lesson for me.”

WHEN WAS THE MOMENT WHERE YOU LOOKED AT SAKURA AND DECIDED TO STICK WITH HER?

“the second i met her, i remember feeling so determined to make her my best friend. it seems childish from a glance, but the older i get, the more i understand and realize that the universe clearly wanted us to be side by side… she came to our former company with very little understanding of korean, and i was the only trainee in the company who could help her.”

“i’d always dreamed of having a younger sibling in my life, so meeting sakura made me excited — there is no defining moment for me because she’s been through all of my growing pains and hardships. i’d never go back and redo everything unless i’d end up finding her again.”

OUT OF ALL THE HARDSHIPS THAT YOU ENDURED WHILE TRAINING, WHAT WAS THE HARDEST PART OF IT ALL?

“the hardest part for me to come to terms with was that i lost a part of my childhood that i’ll never get back. even though debuting felt out of reach, i spent my teen years training and making sure that our maknae grew up well. where i don’t regret the path i walked on to get to where i am today, every now and then i do get a little upset that i never had a fulfilling experience as a teenager. when i look at the person that i am behind my idol image, sometimes i feel like i’m too mature and serious for my own good, now.”

WHEN YOUR ORIGINAL 2016 DEBUT WAS CANCELLED, DID YOU THINK ABOUT LEAVING AFTER BEING PLACED IN THIS CURRENT LINEUP?

“i don’t think i ever considered leaving until i realized that somewhere along the line, sakura was going to do it if we had stayed with STELLAR. in my heart, i knew that when we met the older members, i should take a chance on it, so i did. i would be lying if i said i didn’t understand why they put the kind of people that we were into a group like this… but now i understand it.”

EVEN AFTER YOUR PARENTS LEFT YOU ON YOUR OWN, DO YOU STILL STAY IN TOUCH WITH YOUR FAMILY?

“i talk to my two older sisters all of the time, but it’s my parents that i don’t speak to anymore. every new year i send them money for them to use as a way to showcase that i’m still around and love them, but i never hear from them in return. sometimes it still stings my heart, but the feeling becomes numb with time.”

WHO IS/ARE THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON/PEOPLE IN YOUR LIFE?

“i’m not saying this to be cliché, but my members are the most important people in my life; we like to think that us being put together was fate, if i were to be with any other group i don’t think i would’ve made it this far. the most important person in my life is definitely sakura. we have this insane amount of synergy together, she helped me feel like i was somebody in this world.”

THE FINAL CUT

QUITE OFTEN, YOU SAY THAT BECAUSE YOU’RE AN IDOL, IT CAN BE HARD TO EXPRESS WHO YOU ARE. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN? WHAT IS IT THAT YOU’RE WANTING TO SAY? THIS IS YOUR LAST QUESTION, SO PLEASE ANSWER CAREFULLY.

“this can mean a lot… there’s the usual things you lose once gaining fame, like privacy. but then there is this part of you that wants to be as genuine and true to the public eye, but you really can’t because if they knew, you could be the cost of everyone’s hard work—”

“excuse me! cut, please— or whatever it’s called, i’m so sorry!” sakura spoke up in a panicked yet polite tone, beating AJ and hyewon to the set before eunwoo could go any further after realizing what he was about to do.

she thought the camera wasn’t filming them anymore, so the youngest of the four rushed to her best friend’s side.

but the camera was still rolling.

“eunwoo… hun… this is huge, are you sure you want to do this? you could get serious backlash for this, i don’t want you to be or get in danger.” she asked in a whisper, resorting to english as she glanced over at their older members — who sat back but watching nervously, not hearing anything besides the two speaking in english and sakura’s geordie accent shamelessly slipping through.

“chae, you know more than anyone else on this planet that i need this.” eunwoo whispered back, his breathing grew more jagged as he spoke to her, fighting back his emotions “i want this so bad, i’ll take the hits and blows, it’s nothing out of my experience, but i can’t hide anymore. i don’t care.”

sakura nodded her head, she understood that feeling and knew that eunwoo was more than deserving of finally being himself on camera. she would never dream of holding him back from it, ever.

“i’m not going to stop you, i would never dream of it. but remember that you have three people who are always on your side. we love you, woo.” sakura said rather softly, a smile on her lips as eunwoo pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, his eyes flickering to his other two members who were no longer watching fondly from a distance, but they were at his side.

“wait— can you stay?” eunwoo frantically spoke up, grabbing onto sakura’s arm when she started to stand up, “all of you… please?” he asked, the clear look of fear was etched all over his eyes as he looked at his three best friends pleadingly. he knew what he wanted to do, but it was still incredibly scary because the last time he did this, he was outed by half of his family at sixteen.

it was a rare sight to see kim eunwoo so vulnerable, everyone knew it wasn’t something to take lightly.

“hey, we’ll protect you… you can say it, we’re right here with you.” AJ told eunwoo in a comforting manner, his heart feeling full to the brim as he watched how eunwoo’s smile grew once he realized that everyone was sitting beside him. he knew it was time to finally say it when hyewon — the one member who showed the least amount of affection — placed a comforting hand on his shoulder in encouragement, and it spoke volumes to him.

everyone watched in anticipation as eunwoo took a deep inhale. it took a lot for him to feel nervous, so coping with it had always felt foreign to him, but he was working on it.

“galaxy, do you remember when i had our makeup stylist add this design on my ear while on tour to see you? it was the one song that sakura and i covered, secret love song by the romantics, where i requested this. one show in particular made me emotional because one of you at the fan meet had told me something i would never forget. they explained that the four of us and our music ended up inspiring them to come out to their family as gay. i’ll never forget that person because they even got a tattoo that looked exactly like the makeup design on my ear.

“i think of that moment in particular, and it resonates with me forever. because what i had done for this person is all that i’ve ever wanted to do for our galaxy as a member of CORE4. i also think of it because i wish i had the same good experience that they did when i came out. i’m no longer ashamed of who i want to love, i’m bisexual and have been since i was fifteen… i’m quite proud of it because i know in my heart that this is who i am. i want to be someone that our LGBTQ+ fans can look up to and feel safe around, because that’s what CORE4 and galaxy do for me. from now on, i’ll do my best to show every side of myself for you all… so i hope that you’ll still stay with us, i promise that i will continue to make you proud.”

REBLOG TO SHARE + BOOST!

@skzfairies @m00niesk7

[ahkaahshi]

taste testing [hirugami sachirou x reader]

pairing: hirugami sachirou x fem reader

genre: smut (18+) and fluff

warning(s): explicit sexual content, food play, spitting, reader has one dom moment but I swear to god it’s very fleeting bc that’s not our brand here, and there’s not really any other warnings?? this one was kinda wholesome, good for the soul smut tbh

word count: 4.4k (episode #??? of why am I writing so much?? idk!!)

overview: a heatwave in combination with an accidental ice cream spill end up giving your boyfriend a new idea

“Should I be worried?”

Hirugami rolls his eyes at you mockingly from over his shoulder in response to your comment as you shuffle to one of the stools near the kitchen island. “C’mon, (f/n), have some faith in your reliable boyfriend, why don’tcha?” he teases, turning his attention back to whatever creation he’s concocted on the counter in front of him—which his tall figure blocks from your view.

With a chuckle, you comment, “Well, it’s not often that I get summoned to the kitchen by said boyfriend unless he wants me to try some crazy recipe he developed.” Grabbing the small fan sitting atop the wooden surface and activating its oscillating function so it can blow room temperature air towards you as well, you add, “Besides, with this stupid heatwave I wouldn’t be surprised if you accidentally set something on fire.”

“I cracked an egg on the floor earlier and it didn’t cook, so I think we’re still good, babe.”

His wittiness never fails to elicit a gentle snicker from you, no matter how foul your mood may be, so you can’t help letting one out in spite of your current circumstances. Much to your dismay, the air conditioning unit had decided to succumb to the increased temperatures outside, leaving the two of you in a nearly unbearably hot apartment. Luckily, the power hadn’t gone out, so the two of you were able to keep fans running, and you were able to stick your head in the fridge while he stuck his in the freezer above it. The situation could be much worse, but that knowledge didn’t make it any less unpleasant.

You hadn’t worn a shirt at home in days, resorting to lazing around in a sports bra or bralette and shorts most of the time. Today was no different, and you appreciated every blast of air that the sheen of sweat on your chest and abdomen cooled down each time the fan turned your way. From where you’re sitting, you’re able to admire the ridge of every bone or muscle beneath your boyfriend’s toned back, since he’s only wearing a pair of athletic shorts.

“Well,” he begins, his voice snapping your gaze from his exposed skin to his warm, brown eyes when he peers at you from over his shoulder once more, “wanna know what I made today?” Your enthusiastic approval prompts him to turn away from the counter and place two bowls atop the island filled with a treat you can instantly recognize. “I made some ice cream earlier this morning, and it’s extra cool since I just took it out of the freezer.”

He marvels at the look of awe and excitement on your face as you admire his handiwork, since he’d gone the extra mile to decorate his dessert with chocolate and caramel syrup, some fruit, and a dollop of whipped cream. “Wow! Look at you!” you exclaim before placing your hand around the back of his neck to pull him closer for an appreciative kiss, “Thank you. This looks really good.”

“You sure you’re not just blinded by love?”

Playfully, you give his arm a gentle smack where he stands opposite you, elbows resting on the countertop as he patiently waits to see your reaction to his creation. Prickles of heat rise to your cheeks at the way he’s staring at you so intently, as if he could do so all day long. A small grin forms on your lips when you pick up the spoon resting in the bowl and carefully scoop out a generous serving of the ice cream he’s so carefully prepared. The refreshing coolness and sweet flavor it spreads across your tongue when you place the spoonful in your mouth has you humming with satisfaction and closing your eyes momentarily.

“It’s really good, Sachi,” is the praise that leaves your mouth once you’ve swallowed. You’re soon digging in for another bite, making him laugh at your eagerness. “Seriously, if you hadn’t chosen to be a vet, you could’ve definitely been a pastry chef or something with all the desserts you’ve made for me.”

Wiggling his spoon between his fingers pensively, he wonders, “Maybe I should start an Instagram page, take pictures of my creations, and climb my way to fame in the pastry-loving community.”

“Oh, you’d have so many followers.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re a hottie who likes to bake. Simple as that. Trust me,” you explain, reaching over to him to brush his waves of brown hair away from his face, “you’ll have women all over the world sending you tokens of their love and commenting heart or fire emojis underneath your posts. You might even get to be on a talk show if you’re successful enough.”

He nods towards the living room, indicating that he wants to sit down at the table with you to eat and asks, “Is that so? And where are you in all of this?”

You place your hands beneath the cold bowl of dessert and scoot off the stool so you can seat yourself on the floor beside him instead. “Professional taste tester slash content curator slash manager,” you answer with confidence before dipping another spoonful of ice cream between your lips curled in a self-assured smile.

“So fancy,” he states, sending a small wink your way that has your heart fluttering in your chest—as if he’s a high school crush who’s noticed you rather than your boyfriend of three years. Holding up his metal spoon filled with ice cream towards you, he suggests, “Should we toast on our new business deal, then?”

With a giggle, you raise your spoon to his so you can clink them together and continue enjoying the delicious treat he’d prepared just for you. In between scoops, you reach for the television remote to turn it on so you can watch something other than a dark screen and distract yourselves from the stifling heat flooding your home in any way possible. As you’re eating, trying to finish off the ice cream before it melts entirely, you end up accidentally spilling some of it on you.

The squeal you release at the iciness of the dessert trailing down your chin and onto your chest startles Hirugami, and his attention snaps to you instantly. Shuddering at the sensation of the ice cream sliding down your sternum, heading towards the low neckline of your sports bra like it’s on a race against time, you quickly scan the room for any napkins you can grab. “I got it,” your boyfriend offers, placing his bowl down on the table and shifting closer to you.

At first, you think he’s going to reach for the tissues you’d spotted nearby, but you find yourself frozen in place when he suddenly dips his head towards your chest to drag his tongue along your skin. The sensation of the wet muscle gliding along your chest, from the dip of your cleavage all the way up to your chin, has you shivering for an entirely different reason, and he meets your wide-eyed gaze with his calm one once he’s finished.

“Did I get it all?” he questions, purposely feigning cluelessness, as he enjoys doing to tease you.

There are a few beats of silence spent watching one another while you try to regain your composure. Hirugami always found little ways to surprise you, whether he was welcoming you home with something special he’d baked or spreading your legs apart to dive between them after he’d had a rough day. He’d never once attempted the feat he’d just done; however, you find that you’re surprisingly aroused. He seems to notice his actions have had what he deems to be a desirable impact on you when he sees you clench your thighs together and dip your spoon into the ice cream once more.

With intrigue reflected in his gentle eyes, he watches you intentionally press the spoon to your collarbone so the substance can drip down your chest, leaving small, rivers of color over the bones beneath your skin and the shape of your breasts. A somewhat innocent grin spreads across your lips when you feel the ice cream sink below the neckline of your sports bra.

“Hmm,” he murmurs, turning away from you momentarily to grab the bottles of syrup and can of whipped cream he’d brought along with him from the kitchen, “Might as well make this an entire sundae, don’tcha think?” You swallow thickly as he pops open the caps and tasks himself with drizzling the syrup over your chest, deviating from the area once he’s satisfied with his work and allowing a few drops to fall onto your lips.

His tone is sugary sweet, but there’s a devious glint in his eyes. All you can do is nod and lean into the arm he wraps around your back, letting your head roll back so your neck and chest are fully exposed to him. Your heartbeat is quick underneath his tongue when he pulls the top of your sports bra down enough for him to dip it inside and start collecting the trails of ice cream and syrup he’s used to decorate your skin. Almost instinctively, you arch your back towards him in a silent plea for him to give your breasts more attention, but he ignores your request for now and moves up your sternum, towards your chin once more.

When his lips meet yours, the taste of his tongue is sweet as it slides along your own, making you moan softly into his mouth. His hand on your back moves to your waist before traveling up to your shoulder and plucking at the strap of your bra. “Take this off for me,” he requests between heated kisses, “Actually, take your shorts off too, and wait for me in the bedroom. I wanna taste what I made on every inch of you.”

Though you’re hesitant to leave his tight grasp and part your lips from his, you oblige his request and head for the bedroom. After grabbing a towel and laying it out across the comforter so it doesn’t get stained, you strip off the little clothes you’re wearing—but leave your underwear on. Not long after you’ve situated yourself atop the mattress, Hirugami wanders into the room with all the food items he wants to adorn your bare body with.

“Want some?” he asks upon seeing your attention shift to the can of whipped cream when he sets it down atop the bedside table. After receiving a nod from you, he says, “Close your eyes and open your mouth for me, baby.” You do as your told, your heart racing with anticipation as waves of adrenaline course through your veins. The crackling of the whipped cream spurting through the tip of the can reaches your ears moments before you feel his breath fan over your face and his tongue press the cool topping against yours, guiding it into your mouth.

Your hands move to his shoulders to pull his hot body closer to yours, wanting to feel every inch of his skin burning against you in spite of how unbearably warm the apartment is. Your kisses are messy, but neither of you mind, considering how sweet they taste and how intense the craving you have for one another is becoming. When he pulls away from you, he looks uncharacteristically disheveled—cheeks and lips tinted red with warmth, a hint of whipped cream at the sides of his mouth, and his eyes clouded over by an undeniable lust. Because of how calm and composed he usually is, it thrills you to see him like this.

However, his lips are quick to form a grin, as if he finds it entertaining that you saw him in a moment of discomposure. In an instant, he’s reaching for the ice cream nearby and standing beside the bed with a pensive look on his face, like an artist pondering what he should paint on his blank canvas. You squirm a bit under his intensely focused gaze, but soon shiver at the cool sensation of the previously frozen treat dripping onto your chest once more, navigating along the natural ridges and valleys of your body.

As he drizzles ice cream and syrup along your exposed skin in a way that makes sense to him, your attention flits between the look of admiration in his eyes and the prominent bulge in his shorts. He sees where your gaze is drawn and chuckles before picking up a strawberry and pressing it to your lips, which you open to take a bite. At noticing how the juice makes your lips shimmer tantalizingly, he can’t help but swoop in for another open-mouthed kiss. But it’s short-lived, since he’s eager to taste the creation he’s made on your torso instead.

Once more, he opens his mouth and drags his tongue along your skin, being sure to trace every path that the dessert has taken along your figure. You release a small mewl and place your hands on his head, weaving your fingers into his soft hair when he grazes your breast with his nose and lips. The whimpers of appreciation and increasing strength of your grip spur him to lick and suck one of your hardened nipples while he gently pinches the other, coaxing more breathless cries from your mouth at the dull throbbing that’s building in your core.

“Mm,” he hums, sending pleasant vibrations through your body, “so sweet. Want a taste?”

You nod when his face returns to your field of view, hovering over your own as he watches you intently. Your lips part naturally, waiting for him to meet them with his own, but, instead, he places his hand on your jaw and prods your lower lip, signaling for you to open wider. The pucker of his lips soon brings you to the realization that he intends to spit into your mouth—and while you thought you’d be repulsed by the idea; you find yourself sticking your tongue out expectantly. With curiosity, you watch as a glob of saliva leaves his mouth, finding purchase on your tongue and rolling back towards your throat. There’s a pleasant tinge of sweetness to it that you hadn’t fully anticipated, but that you appreciate as you swallow.

The way he’s watching you with such rapture makes your heart pound in your chest. In an instant, he’s occupying your lips once more with his own, showering them with passionate kisses as his long fingers trail down your torso, making their way to the lacy edge of your panties. You hold his body flush against yours, creating a sticky mess between your chests of syrup and ice cream as you wiggle your hips needily and take his lower lip between your teeth. An airy chuckle leaves his throat at your antsy behavior, but he’s soon indulging you by slipping his hand between the delicate fabric and your skin.

His lips soon travel in the same direction as your fingers so he can lap up any of the toppings he’s drizzled along your neck and collarbone while his fingertips tease you by lightly running up and down the length of your slit. Your grip on his shoulders tightens in response to the sensation of his digits coated in your essence sliding along the sensitive skin before one of them takes to tracing circles around your clit while the others slide inside of your tight core.

“Sachirou…” you whine softly, hips bucking against his touch as you feel your body temperature start to rise. Though you love the way his fingers feel inside of you, curling to reach the spongey region within you, and on your bundle of nerves, you’re desperate to feel his tongue since he’s been using it everywhere but where you want it the most. “Could you…?”

He seems to already know what you’re about to ask him, since he responds to your half-finished question with, “You want me to eat you out, baby?”

A breathless “Yes,” from you prompts him to give your neck a few gentle kisses before he removes his hand from inside your soaked panties and moves his head between your legs, treating himself to any food still left on your skin along the way. He presses his lips to the inside of your thighs before taking the fabric separating your dripping pussy from his mouth in his teeth and dragging it down your legs. Once he’s used his hands to slide it all the way off, he casts a somewhat devious glance upwards at you as he blows on your clit, making you squirm beneath his grasp.

You’re about to scold him for teasing you when you’re so vulnerable, but his gently spoken words give you pause: “You’re so beautiful, (f/n).” Moments after the compliment leaves his lips, he’s pressing them against your pearl, followed by his tongue.

The pleasurable burn you feel from his hot breath dancing along your exposed slit has you moaning loudly and sinking your fingers into his hair to inch him closer to your pussy. It’s evident he knows your body like the back of his hand, since he’s precise about his actions, being sure to vary his pace and intensity to make the buildup to your orgasm as enjoyable for you as possible. Where his large hands rest on your thighs, his fingers loosen and tighten their grip, kneading your supple skin. Every needy movement of your hips towards his face has him uttering a gentle groan, reminding you of the satisfaction he always receives from getting you off.

However, in spite of feeling the knot in your stomach loosening with each hungry swipe of his tongue along your clit, you move your hands to the side of his face to nudge him away from you. The confusion he feels is evident in his gaze and furrowed eyebrows, but it soon morphs into one of excitement when you sit up on the bed and motion for him to join you. Before he sits down, you tug at the waistband of his shorts and regard him with a demure gaze through your eyelashes that he reacts to subtly by biting his lip.

With a nod, he allows you to strip them off, then plops onto the comforter beside you and pulls you into his lap. Reaching towards the bowl on the bedside table, you grab another strawberry and the can of whipped cream so you can take the fruit between your teeth and offer it to him with your mouth. The gentle smile he wears spreads onto your own lips when he leans down towards you to carefully take the rest of the strawberry in his own mouth. His lips meet yours in a sweet kiss before you pull away to finish chewing the halves you’ve split with each other.

Grabbing the whipped cream this time, you place the nozzle in front of his mouth, prompting him to open it for you. However, you misfire and end up covering his nose with the fluffy topping instead, sending the two of you into a fit of laughter that he only fuels by using it to smear the whipped cream along yours as well. In spite of the stagnant warmth in the apartment, only disturbed every now and then by a gust from the nearby fan, you find yourself pressing your forehead against his and draping an arm around his shoulders to pull him closer.

The kisses you share are heated and passionate in spite of the sweetness lingering in both of your mouths. Your chest is sticky against his with remnants of food and sweat, but he doesn’t seem to care, since he places his hands on your waist to hold your torso flush against his, only moving them up and down the sides of your body occasionally to feel the shape of you against his palms. Your free hand moving between the two of you to gently stroke his erection elicits a breathless and somewhat surprised moan from his vocal cords that empowers you to curl your fingers around it.

As much as he loves having your hand around his cock, he seems to want more of you, since he’s breaking the connection between your lips to suggest, “Let me fill you up, yeah? I’ll make you feel so good.” Once he’s received enthusiastic consent from you, he gently pulls your hips over his, before slowly guiding you onto his dick, being careful not to hurt you in the process. Low grunts rumble through your own throat when he presses his lips against your neck to trail open-mouthed kisses along your tender skin as he eases inside of you.

Once he bottoms out, you place your palm on the center of his chest to give him a playful push down onto the bed so you can rest your hands at either side of his muscular torso to support yourself as you begin grinding your hips against his. A smirk creeps onto his lips at your sudden act of dominance, since you both know it won’t be long before his large body’s hovering over yours as he plows you into the mattress until your mind is so blank that all you can say is his name overand over again. But he’ll let you have your fun for now, since he knows you like riding him, especially after he’s had a long day and you don’t want him to have to do any extra work.

Plus, he can’t complain when the view above him is spectacular.

“There you go, baby,” he praises, chocolate brown eyes darting down to your hips undulating against his as you take him deeper, “God, you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous.”

His compliments spur you to increase your pace until beads of sweat are glistening on your skin and your body’s starting to shake from both fatigue and pleasure. Each slam of his cock into your sensitive core sends shocks of ecstasy through you, and you know—with the way he’s meeting your hips with thrusts of his own to reach your most receptive spot—that you won’t last long. “S-Sachi!” you cry wantonly, reaching for the hands he has gripping your waist to hold onto them for support, “Harder, please. I’m so close!”

“Don’t worry, pretty girl, I’ll make you cum,” he responds huskily. His face contorts ever so slightly with exertion as he pulls your hips down so he can snap his against them, filling the room with loud smacks of your skin meeting. Upon feeling your hips stutter beneath his palms, he quickly sits up and guides you onto your back so he can plunge deeper inside of you at a much faster pace. “That feel good?”

“Yes! Yes, it’s—ahh—so good, baby!” You’re surprised by your ability to form coherent words while he’s balls-deep inside of your pussy, filling your entire body with pleasure that’s nearly too much to bear. “Please!”

You don’t have to finish your sentence for him to understand what you’re trying to say, since his pace and intensity have you coming undone for him only a few moments after you’ve spoken. His voice is low and guttural as he growls, “Mm, just like that,” at feeling your walls flutter around him affectionately. Your loud cries of his name fill his ears, edging him closer to his own orgasm as he fucks you through yours. “You feel s-so good,” he rasps, “C’mon, make me cum. Yeah, that’s it; that’s it, baby.”

Soon, the sensation of being inside your tight heat as you squeeze him lovingly has him finishing with a string of expletives, followed by praises rolling off his tongue. Hot spurts of his release filling you up in the midst of your high have you mewling breathlessly until you’re left in a euphoric haze that renders your entire body too heavy to move. Once Hirugami’s ridden out his orgasm as well, he lets out a long sigh of both exhaustion and satisfaction before sinking into the bed beside you.

A few minutes of silence ensue as the two of you regain your breath and find the energy to move once more. In a tender gesture, Hirugami grabs the towel beneath you and uses it to wipe off any remaining food or sweat that’s accumulated on your skin before doing the same with his own body. As the two of you lie together, staring up at the ceiling while waiting for the fogginess to subside, you hear a familiar click that instantly makes you hold your breath with anticipation. Sure enough, the sound is followed by a familiar whirring, then a cool breeze against your skin from the vent on the ceiling.

“Yes!” you cheer, clenching your hand into a fist to express your gratitude towards the workers who have finally fixed your air conditioning unit.

With a small hum of contentment, Hirugami extends his arm out towards you to bring you closer to his chest. Now that there’s cold air circulating around the room, you welcome the gesture and curl up beside him. “Well, now that the AC’s working, does that mean you don’t want any more ice cream?” he wonders, lips brushing against your temple before he presses a kiss to it.

“Of course not! I mean, as long as you still have some that’s actually frozen.”

He laughs nervously and admits, “Full disclosure: I got a bit carried away and made enough to last for at least a few weeks, I think.” Upon seeing the incredulous look on your face, he elaborates, “I followed a recipe created by someone for her son’s birthday party of like thirty kids, so… that’s a lot of servings.”

“Sachirou!” you laugh, nuzzling your face in his neck, “Why did you do that?”

“Didn’t know how long the AC would be out. I thought I planned ahead pretty well, actually.”

“In that case, I would love to have some more of your ice cream.” He beams at you and pulls you into a hug so tight that your skin is sticking together when you pull away. “But let’s go in the shower first. Please.”

“Don’t know what to make next, though,” Hirugami murmurs as he sits up before grabbing onto your hands to help you into a seated position so the two of you can head into the bathroom. “But,” he adds, turning to you and leaning down towards you so he can press a chaste kiss to your lips, “what I do know is that I’d love be able to sample it on you again.”

treat me to a coffee! ⭐︎ kinktober masterlist

taglists (see pinned post on my blog for form)

general: @dinablossom, @newfriendjen​, @devlovesramen, @ohbyunhunn, @aftcrlust, @mister-future, @kyleclxin​, @kac-chowsballs​, @osamusmiya​, @nit-sir-hc​, @arixtsukki​, @shinsurou, @ichorizaki​

hirugami: @hqxreader, @pretty-setters, @misora-msby, @atsunakaashi

[mlqcconfessions]

hi! can i request the guys realising they’re in love with you/mc? how would they react to it and when would the realisation happen? just something a lil cute for the quarantine ✨

SUGAR SWEET not really, this got really dark

Warning: Backstory spoilers (with some alterations!)

MLQC Headcanon - When I First Realized

Victor

He still remembers the day when you first walked into his office

He hadn’t thought much of this new producer (just that she seemed like a dummy)

A few more meetings with you, and he realized that his initial impression of you was wrong (something that doesn’t happen often)

You didn’t seem like a dummy, you were a dummy

He’s never seen someone so all over the place, barely able to collect herself sometimes

At one point, he found himself almost looking forward to your visitations

As a CEO, he’s learned to control his emotions quite early on in his life

He forbid himself from showing any weaknesses (but he knows everyone else’s?)

So when he realized he was acting like a human being abnormal, he became irritated

He assigned more tasks, and required more proposals from you

By giving you more work, he eventually gave himself a chance to divert away from you (drowning in paperwork meant distracting his mind)

But for some reason, he just couldn’t seem to forget you

Maybe it’s the way you act tough

Maybe it’s how you avoid his eyes, but glare at him when you think he’s not looking (Victor knows everything)

Or maybe it’s your smile, and how you never show that in front of him

So he started wondering, what could he do to make you not so afraid of him?

As he got lost in his thoughts, his eyes gravitated to the pile of papers on his desk (he hasn’t so much touched those yet)

“Huh, unbelievable” (he then quickly passed off any interferences with his work)

A considerable amount of time has gone, and he’s escaping an abandoned building with you

He can feel the tension in the air, as the currents electrify his surroundings

Victor looks over to you, weary and frail from constant running, and clenches his fists

Whoever is behind this, they’re aiming for you

Before he could think of a plan of action, he suddenly catches you as you leap out in front of him (you’re writhing with pain as the bolt lashes against your back)

In his arms, you’re there, limp without consciousness, unaware of the turmoil inside his heart

He thinks back to when he was just a boy, and that brave girl who jumped to save his life (he had made it his lifelong goal to find her, but to no avail)

Now he knows it was you all this time, and he won’t let anyone hurt you ever again

Even if he has to break through time.

Kiro

He was a celebrity for as long as he can remember (one of the most popular child stars of his day!)

But it’s not like he desired to be in the spotlight for fame

He needed to find her (and that was his mission since the start)

“For you, I’ll reach even greater heights”

This was the only way he could possibly search the entire city to find her

By stranding himself in the public eye

He has never forgotten about her (she was on his mind everyday)

Whether he wants to or not, flashbacks of the experiment table run across his mind

He can picture the little girl next to him, seeming to be about his age, her eyes closed into a peaceful slumber

The red thread connecting the two of them continued to circulate, and he was forced to watch it all

If only he could rip out the needles binding him and escape this orphanage with her (he eyed the room for any possible routes)

She was so close to him, yet unreachable

He tried to grab hold of her hand, so as to stop this nightmare from consuming her

But one of the masked figures noticed his activity, and nonchalantly increased his dosage

The boy tried so hard to keep his eyes open, to fight back, but what power did he have?

He was only five

Many years passed, and Kiro returned to Loveland to boost his career as a superstar

He was now known as everyone’s sunshine, radiating with bright energy and beauty

Friendly with all, it’s not difficult to disclose your personal information with him (but no one really knows the darkest parts of the sun’s shadows)

Even now, he was still trying to find her

She must be around my age (but how would he know what she looked like now?)

With doubts in his mind, he takes a walk in his disguise to momentarily hide from the flashes of cameras

There was no destination in mind, just a desperation to be somewhere

He felt lost in this world where everyone knew who he was (but who would be able to rescue me?)

His eyes drift towards a supermarket, with a young lady stationed near the chips aisle

She should be around her age, maybe the height too?

As he walks past the store, he got a good look at her face (his heart nearly stopped beating)

Although the features were more mature compared to his memories, it was still the same shining smile as the little girl’s

How could he ever forget that smile? (the sole ray of light that shone on him in the darkness)

Without hesitation, he marches towards the market, nearly slamming into the automatic doors

He grabs the bag of chips she was reaching for, in hopes of getting her attention (in a relatively gentle way)

As she was about to yell his name, he quickly covered her mouth, allowing him to look clearly into her eyes

Ah....it was really her

“Shhh...I don’t wanna get noticed”

Lucien

In his world, everything was ordinary

Bland, boring, and lifeless

It has been this way for as long as he can remember, and he’s grown accustomed to this lifestyle

There was nothing he could do about it, nor did he want to waste efforts trying

It was easier to ignore the impossible, and focus on more important matters at hand (and this continued for years)

He had heard that a producer from a company was looking for him, and that she should be arriving any minute now

He had no plans to involve himself with television, so he decided to politely decline the offer to join her

Lucien wandered around his office, organizing his desk to welcome the unwanted visitor

He looked at his bookshelf, colored with a dull grey all around

It wasn’t anything new, just a little depressing at times

He noticed a butterfly floating past his windows (colorless like everything else in his sight)

Then he saw her, the visitor

Suddenly his eyes began to burn (his muscles started pulsing at the temples)

Why....

There was no explanation that he could think of

He trusted his eyes enough to know that this was not a dream, yet can he see color?

What makes her so different?

His original plan was to refuse her offer at the door, but instead took out his china set and began to brew some tea

Meanwhile, you arrive at the floor Professor Lucien should be on (you ask around, but no one knows where he is)

You ask a younger-looking gentleman, who leads you to an office a few doors down

You enter cautiously, but the professor is nowhere to be seen

As you’re about to leave, the gentleman pushes a cup towards you (it’s steaming with freshly poured tea)

As she grabs the cup, her touch reveals its true colors, never-before-seen

It puts a smile on his face at the sight of the extravagant change

....how beautiful

“Um, do you know when Professor Lucien will be returning?”

“I can go ask the researcher next door, if you’d like”

“Oh, that would be great!”

He can’t help but let out a chuckle as he calls his colleague next door, to which she replies with absurdity

“What are you talking about, Lucien?” (he can’t help but feel amused at the producer’s shocked expression)

He peers curiously into her blushing face, his first time seeing such a flattering hue

Gavin

He wasn’t always sure about when he first fell in love with you

He just knows that he did

At one point, you were the only thing on his mind

“Bro, you’re in love with her!”

Despite Minor’s annoyed words, he just couldn’t understand (love? what a joke)

He was sure that this wasn’t love, just a fleeting spark of a moment’s interest

He shielded you from the rain with his umbrella, but it’s not love

He stared at the picture of you in the school newspaper for hours (Minor had to take it away from his hands), but it’s not love 

He goes to your every recital (on the roof so you don’t notice him), but it’s not love

No matter which way he looked at it, he WAS NOT in love with you (Minor is slamming his head into the table)

But looking back, he does have an idea as to when this interest started

It was late spring, just on the border to becoming autumn

He was starting to lose conscious, surrounded by knife-bearers

Gavin was cornered on the school roof, blood flowing out at a dangerous rate

Then, he heard a soft melody encompassing the air around him (piano...?)

As he tried to locate where the sound was coming from, one of the gang members pushed him off the edge

His world spun around as he outreached his arms, desperately trying to grab onto anything available

Nothing.

All energy left his body, reverting him to a corpse (maybe my next life wouldn’t be so bad....)

Suddenly a heavy, rapid, surging melody sounded (taken from Campus Date!)

Gavin’s life flashed before his eyes, and the next thing he saw was the entire city beneath his floating feet

“....! What...is this..?”

While he was trying to collect himself, the roaring notes of the piano continued, as if they were in agreement with his adrenaline rush

He quickly regained control, letting the booming wind merge with this foreign power inside him

He gravitated towards the window, where the school’s music room was located

His ears soon landed on a beautiful voice, accompanied by the rhythmic taps of the keys (it was her!)

He still wasn’t sure how this Evol awakened inside of him, and is still wondering if this was love, but one thing’s certain:

He, for all eternity, would dedicate his life to protecting her (cue the Minor squeals!)

Shaw

He never thought of himself as a stationary being

Too much of a hassle

With his skateboard, he cruises around the city at his own pace, looking for any amusements in the area

Unable to find anything worth pursuing, he returns to his alleyway to finish the graffiti piece he was working on earlier

He recalls the time when he briefly met his brother, at the airport a while back

He laughs just thinking about that moment (he’s never seen his brother so furious)

Come to think of it, he was protecting a girl that day

Determined to make his day fun, he decides to go find her himself

You waited in the bus, hoping that your precognition doesn’t come true

“If we just get past this block, it’ll be fine”

You’re almost sent out of your seat as the driver brakes at the bus stop, one before your destination

A tall guy, occupied with his headphones, steps in

Shaw immediately is able to spot her, and promptly places himself in the seat next to her

The bus was nearly empty, yet he chose to sit next to you instead (just why..?)

As for why he sat there, Shaw couldn’t think of a reason either

He simply thought whatever happens next might be fun

He glanced over at the girl, who fidgeted nervously next to him

He cracked a silent smirk as he adjusted his headphones (he could feel her gaze on him)

“Wanna listen?”

“N-no..”

You couldn’t get your head around this guy, and exactly what he was planning

But you had your own problems to worry about, and it arrived much sooner than expected

Shaw noticed the girl was clutching onto her dress tightly, and glanced at her face

She looked like she was in pain for some reason, but there was nothing he could do to help (Do I wanna help in the first place?)

He jolted as she suddenly got up and yelled for the driver to stop the bus

The driver, of course, passed her pleas off (the bus wasn’t at the stop yet, anyways)

He inquisitively looked at his surroundings

There was nothing off, which means there was no reason for her to get so panicky

He became very interested in what she was going to do next, so he willingly gave her a hand

In the blink of an eye, the sky became dark and rain started to pour outside

Your eyes go wide at this unusual happening, but waste no time in rushing out the door (the driver gave up on running the bus in this weather)

He discreetly follows the girl as she runs towards the crosswalk

He’s a little taken back as she plops down on the cement, a sigh of relief across her expression

Without saying anything, he hands her a transparent umbrella (he tries hard to not laugh at her conflicted face)

“You’re welcome”

He decides not to ask her what that was all about

He could sense that they will be meeting again in the future soon

WOWZERS. This took me a lot longer to complete than expected.... (it’s so long!!!!) I did alter some details, just to fit what I want more.

I guess I took this a different route than what the request was, so I hope anon who submitted this is okay with it

I went for a more “when was an important turning point in their relationship” compared to “when did they fall in love” (because I think it captures the essence of the game better)

Hope you enjoyed. I’m now going to cry at all the hurt ;_;

[ttylfedora]

The Rookiest Rookie that ever Rookied- Part Two

Oh god I feel so bad for Cole!!

Characters belong to the completely wonderful @lumosinlove

Cw, food

Enjoy!! 💚

“Right, mon fils, you remember the plan?” Pascal had sat Louis and Marc down at the dining room table and had his serious dad face on. The boys knew this face meant business and sat up straighter, as though they were in a proper business meeting.

“Oui, papa.” Louis answered. Marc nodded in agreement, both of them determined not to let their father down. After all, this was the difference between whether or not they could go out for ice cream at the weekend. All of the shots were riding on this!

“Repeat it back to me.” Dumo instructed.

“Which part?” Marc questioned, still getting his little brain around all of the instructions his father had given him.

“All of it, this is serious business. The two of you are embarking on a journey that can only be ruled as the greatest journey known to man. You two have a legacy to fill, mon fils, a legacy!” Dumo exclaimed dramatically, his arms out as though he was introducing a show on the West End.

“Ce n'est pas si dramatique, papa.” Louis rolled his eyes, and his father gasped.

“Say that again and you are grounded.” Pascal locked his eyes on Louis’. The famous Dumais pranks were a serious business and should be treated as such.

“There is a lot riding on this,” Dumo reasoned, “do you want ice cream or not?”

“I guess.” Louis huffed. “Alright, so we only answer to each other’s names.”

“Make sure all the clocks show a different time.” Marc continued “Can you help us get the higher clocks?” he asked his dad. Dumo nodded.

“Make sure the robot spider is under the couch.” Louis chimed in.

“Ask him where babies come from.” Marc giggled. “Where do they come from papa?” he asked curiously.

“Non, non, ask Cole. He’ll tell you.” Dumo wiggled his finger in front of his younger son's face.

“Okay, okay.”

“Parfait, right, he’ll be back in,” he checked his watch,”half an hour from hanging out with Leo. Let’s get this started, shall we mes fils?” Dumo rubbed his hands together and giggled, leading his children into the kitchen to get started on the clocks.

--

“Right, we shouldn’t be gone for long but if anything goes wrong, just call us straight away. We’ll be back by dinner time.” Celeste fussed. Her husband was already out in the car with Adele and Katie, ready to take them both to basketball practice.

“I will, promise.” Cole smiled. It was the first time they trusted him to look after any of their kids so he can understand why they were airing on the side of caution. “We’ll have lots of fun.” He smiled over to the two boys who were currently sat watching something on the television. Celeste thanked him again and left, shutting the door softly behind her.

Babysitting was a piece of cake. He could do this.

“Right boys, what’s the plan for today.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together, sitting down on the couch that was adjacent to the two brothers. Marc’s eyes lit up.

“Can we make a cake?” he asked, practically jumping up from his spot on the couch.

“We certainly can, what flavour?”

Marc thought for a moment. “Chocolate.” he smiled.

“Sounds good to me, buddy, lead the way.” He reached over and grabbed the remote off of the coffee table in the centre of the room and switched the television off, following them into the kitchen.

“Right, let me see what we have here,” Cole started, going through all of the cupboards to round up the ingredients for the cake.

“Louis, can you grab me the eggs please.” He said over his shoulder as he went to retrieve the milk and butter from the fridge.

“No, no, no, Marc wait-“ Cole was cut off by the eggs Marc was attempting to hold in one hand dropping to the floor and smashing everywhere. He froze with his arms out mid step, and just sighed, laughing slightly. “Oh dear.” Marc looked up at him.

“Sorry Cole.”

“It’s okay buddy, how about you go and change your trousers and socks so that you’re not walking around all day with egg on them and we’ll throw them in the wash. It’s no big deal.” he smiled, grabbing a wet paper towel to start to clean the egg yolk off of the floor. Marc nodded and ran to his room. As he cleaned up, Louis gathered all of the ingredients onto the side, and grabbed more eggs from the basket.

By the time the floor was clean, Marc had come back down in a fresh pair of jeans and socks and popped his dirty ones into the washing machine for his mother to deal with later.

“Perfect, right, Marc, you’re in charge of weighing things, okay?” He looked at Marc but Louis nodded, sitting up on the bar stool in front of the weighing scales.

“Okay.” Louis smiled. Cole widened his eyes slightly but shook it off. Maybe he misspoke?

“Marc, you’re going to help me mix everything up, okay?”

“But I thought I was weighing the ingredients?” Louis asked, confused.

“Yeah, I was talking to your brother?” Cole said, though it came out more of a question. He placed his hand on his hip and scratched his head.

The boys just shrug and carry on anyway, allowing Cole to guide them through the recipe, one his mother swears by back at home. He was hoping it lived up to Celeste’s baking but he doubted his skills were that good. It was the least he could offer her for all the amazing meals she had cooked for him so far. She insisted that it was nothing but when one is so far away from home, having another mother cook a full homemade meal brought immense amounts of comfort to him.

They carried on working around each other, occasionally turning up the radio when a good song comes on, laughing and throwing flour and sugar over each other. Cole was an only child, but if he wasn’t, this is how he would want to spend his weekends with them. He supposed he wasn’t any more; his chosen family adding to the numbers ten-fold and he was beyond grateful for it.

Once all of the ingredients had been mixed, he asked Louis, well who he was sure was Louis, to help him pour the cake mix into the cake moulds. He started doubting himself as Marc, well who he was sure was Marc, came to help him. Once he had placed the moulds into the oven, which he noted had the wrong time displayed, he sent the kids through to the sitting room as he set the timer on his phone. His thumb hovered over the message app icon, wondering whether or not admitting defeat was wise. He quickly changed his mind as he thought up a better idea, opened the app and clocked on Leo’s name instead.

‘Hey man, I have a really embarrassing question but you CANNOT tell Dumo, okay?’

‘Oh god, this is gonna be good.’

‘Leo, PROMISE ME.’

‘Jeez man, okay, i promise!!’

‘Which of Dumo’s boys are older? Louis or Marc? Because i think ive been calling them by the wrong names.’

‘OH MY GOD HAHAHAHAHAHA COLE!!!!!!!!! PLEASE TELL ME YOURE JOKING’

‘Leo…’

‘Oh my god you arent joking.’

‘Please?’

‘Marc is the older one. Oh my god that is actually hilarious. Logan’s wetting himself.’

‘I’m never hearing the end of this.’

Cole put his phone away in his pocket, feeling incredibly embarrassed. Had he been calling these kids by the wrong name for the past month? It would seem so. He filled himself a glass of water and walked into the sitting room, sitting down on the couch next to Marc, no, Louis, the younger one.

“How long until the cake’s ready?” the older one asked.

“About twenty minutes now buddy. What are we watching?” he asked, gesturing to the television.

“Minecraft videos,” the youngest answered, smiling. Cole shook his head, clearly realising he had lost his touch with kids. Wasn’t Minecraft big, what, four years ago now? He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started aimlessly scrolling through Instagram, liking and commenting on a few of the posts until the youngest sibling piped up again.

“Cole?” he asked, an inquisitive look on his face.

“Mhm?” Cole replied, taking a sip of his water.

“Where do babies come from?”

Cole promptly spat his water back out looking at the youngest with wide eyes, stuttering slightly in shock. How was he meant to answer that?!

“I- well- have you not asked your dad this?” he stuttered, this was not what he expected to be answering today, to a nine year old nonetheless.

“Non, I just thought of it” the younger one shook his head.

“Oh, well, I mean, when two adults want to have a baby, they do a special hug, I guess?” Cole replied cautiously.

“So maman, and papa did a special hug for me, Louis, Katie and Adele?”

Cole just stared at him, mouth trying and failing to come up with a response to that. The last thing he even wanted to think about was Dumo’s sex life, no matter how many times the Lions’ sex lives were brought up in the locker room.

Thankfully, the timer for the cake went off, giving him the perfect excuse to exit the conversation. He set the cake on the side to cool, making a start on the icing. The boys decided to stay in the sitting room, engrossed in the video they were watching. He glanced up at the clock on the wall. Surely it wasn’t still early afternoon? He checked the time on the oven and it matched, as did the one on the radio, and the fridge, and everything else in the kitchen apart from his phone.

“Boys, what time is it?” he shouted through to them.

“The tv says it’s 3pm!” Marc, Louis, the older one shouted back. He ran his hands over his face and checked his phone, noting that the time read ‘17:30’. He just rested his head in his hands with his elbows against the counter; he evidently did not get enough sleep last night. He quickly decorated the cake to return his thought process to something concrete and set it aside, joining the boys in front of the television quickly after.

He couldn’t have been sat down for more than five minutes when the biggest fuck off spider he had ever seen crawled out from under the couch, right next to his foot. Like any normal, self-respecting 19 year old man, he screamed and jumped up onto the couch.

Both boys were in hysterics.

“Cole, we got you so good!” The younger of the two was currently beside himself on the other couch, tears streaming from his eyes as he held up a little remote; evidently the remote for the spider.

“You two are taking after your father it seems.” Cole laughed nervously. He was well aware of the notorious Pascal Dumais prank streak and it seemed. They pressed play on the tv until Celeste, Dumo, Adele and Katie came home. He was grateful only in the sense that he was completely and utterly exhausted from today.

“Aaahhhh, you boys made a cake!” Celeste mused, walking into the kitchen to have a look at it, “it will be perfect for after dinner.”

“Did you have a good day, mes garçons?” he asked. Both boys nodded, understanding that their father was asking if they did everything he asked of them.

“It seems your boys take after you, Dumo. Got me pretty good with a spider under the couch there.” Cole laughed from his position on the couch.

Dumo let out one of the biggest dad laughs known to man. “Incroyable! I’m proud of you both!” Both of his sons looked at him and began laughing with him, but followed their mother and sisters into the kitchen.

“I hope they weren’t too much trouble?” Dumo asked, hanging his coat up and turning to Cole.

“No, not at all. It was a fun day, a long day but a fun one. Really set me through my paces there. For a hot second i thought it was one of your tasks.” he laughed as he stood up.

Dumo froze.

“My children are a task to you?” he looked Cole straight in the eyes and cocked an eyebrow. Cole stared at him wide eyed and started stuttering, attempting to form and answer. Pascal laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m only joking, kid. You should have seen your face!”

“Haha, yeah, I’m just going to run to the toilet real quick and I’ll join you for dinner. Won’t be long!” He left, looking quite flustered as PAscal made his way into the kitchen. His wife was leant against the counter with her arms crossed and a slightly amused expression on her face.

“You are a cruel man, mon roi. A cruel cruel man.” she shook her head and turned back around as she continued to prepare dinner.

He stalked over and placed a kiss on her head.

“It’s called character building, ma reine.” he smiled. “And I am nowhere near done just yet.”

[pocket-clown]

A Place in your Home; A Place in your Heart | Arthur Fleck x reader 

// original request: Hi! I love your writings 💖 and I shyly wanted to request something. ^^ I wonder if you could write about Reader that has a difficult situation and has to find a new place to live, but doesnt have enough money? Arthur wants to help her and offers her that she can live with him. They've not dated for long but it's serious and the're much in love. She wants to move in with him, but she's afraid it wouldn not work out for many reasons, but eventually she agrees and Arthur is immensely happy. ^^

// A/N: This originally was going to be a longer fic, but I’ve been struggling with writing yet again, so I figured breaking it down into headcanons was easier than taking eons longer to write something more detailed.

thanks for the request, @dont-be-alarmed

It had been nearly three weeks since you were given the news, the words barely making their way over the fuzzy phone lines, voice as uncaring as ever.

Due to a better suited tenant making an offer, your lease was not going to be renewed, and you needed to be out by the end of the month - no if, ands, or buts about it.

Your lifestyle was a hand to mouth one; paycheck to paycheck, your weekly earnings were just enough to cover rent and basic necessities with little left over to save, splurges on luxuries being an occasional, very rare treat.

With your rainy day savings, your actual savings, and the total accumulation of the profit you made from selling various items that you could, you barely had enough to cover even a deposit on any of the nearby apartments - let alone deposit, and the first month’s rent. 

In short, you were screwed.

You were screwed, and it was eating at you. Day and night, the thought loomed over you like the piles of trash that littered the city, threatening to topple over on passersby at any moment. 

Had you been given a much more reasonably timed heads up, it wouldn’t have been even half an issue, yet you were left to do nothing but lay in bed, eyes burning as you stared at the television, seeing but not really watching the program on it. You’d been pulled from your restless sleep by the sound of a glass bottle dropping and shattering somewhere outside, and given that it was nearly four in the morning, you were about to give up on sleep. 

Even in your sleepy haze, did the weight of the situation hit you like a truck, your stomach tightening with anxiety, the churning twist of panic, worry, and hopelessness making your eyes blur with tears as you shifted your gaze to the ceiling.

You couldn’t help but almost pitifully chuckle at that - soon, there wouldn’t even be a ceiling for you to cry over.

December was nearly on its last legs with Christmas just around the corner; the days of autumn bleeding into those of winter as you found yourself growing more and more grateful each day that your boyfriend’s apartment was one of the few that had a functioning heating system. Temperatures dipped below freezing more often than not, and you often had to take a moment to brace yourself before you stepped outside as the air’s freeze physically hurt sometimes - your eyes, nose, and fingers on the days you forgot your gloves stinging from the wind, while any exposed skin reddened from the nip of the wind. 

It was thoughts of days like those that made you brief a sigh of relief and sink back into the couch of Arthur’s living room, one of his softest blankets fluffed and draped around your body as you curled your legs under yourself, warm and safe from the harsh weather outside, and the even harsher population of the city.

It was also thoughts of days like those that reminded you that this wasn’t going to last. 

“Love, what’s on your mind?”

As in tune with your emotions as ever, Arthur noticed that you were particularly quiet that evening, lost in your thoughts as you didn’t even pay any mind to the television - set to the weekly airing of The Murray Franklin Show.

You hadn’t even told Arthur what was going on, the fear of stressing your already overworked boyfriend out keeping you from opening your mouth. 

“Huh? Oh - nothing,” You blinked, turning your attention from the carpet to the television. “I’m just tired.” You spoke, fingertips picking at the frayed hem of the blanket currently wrapped around your body.

Another hint for Arthur: no Art, no Artie tacked on the end to your reply. From the corner of your eye could you see him through the passthrough, eyeing you from his spot at the kitchen counter where he was taking the utmost care to not spill the mug of hot chocolate he was making you as he stirred it.

Even though your relationship was hardly out of its infancy, you both knew each other well enough to tell when something was wrong. Arthur was already so very in tune with your emotions, so you knew he wasn’t just going to let your morose mood go without a question or two, and you knew yourself enough to know that something about Arthur’s concern hit a soft spot in your heart, rendering you unable to keep much from him once he managed to get into your head. 

He seemed almost sad as he now stood in the entrance to the living room, his lips settled into a thin line as he kept his eyes trained on you. You felt yourself shrink under his gaze, the guilt from keeping something so major from him eating at you, but the uncertainty and apprehension of not only how you’d bring it up with Arthur, but how he’d react.

One of your worst fears was Arthur jumping on the opportunity to have you live with him. Not because you didn’t want to, not because you didn’t trust him or anything of the sort - but Arthur had a habit of putting the needs of others, especially your own, miles above his own. Money was much tighter for him than it was for you, and hell you had no idea if even combining incomes would be much help. No doubt that it would be some, but whether it would be enough, especially given the uncertain job climate of Gotham, left you scratching your head. 

Arthur took a seat next to you, the drink he brought you placed on the coffee table, and with a deep breath, you let it spill out faster than you really meant for it to.

Your lease was ending in just over a week. Your landlord had no intent of renewing it because someone else was moving in, and you had no money to move elsewhere yet, even after your best efforts at earning enough. You had no where to go, nothing to do, no way to remedy the situation - and time was running out.

Hell, you had no idea if at this point you even could do anything beyond accepting the inevitable.

“Why... don’t you stay here?” 

Arthur’s meek, yet hopeful voice raising such a suggestion made your ears perk up. You hadn’t even thought about that - but immediately did you know that it wouldn’t work. At least not yet.

“Art - I can’t do that, you know I can’t.” You couldn’t look at him as you spoke, the thought of being able to live in with him making your heart skip a beat, but the knowledge that it almost most definitely was not realistic at the moment making it hard to swallow.

“Why can’t you?”

“It won’t work - it’s not going to work.”

Though instantly you regret speaking those words, wincing once you realized what they implied. You knew Arthur and his anxieties well enough to know that it wasn’t improbable that he took “it won’t work” as meaning, you didn’t have enough faith in your relationship for it to work.

“ - Not like that,” You were quick to correct yourself, hoping to save the situation before it became more angst ridden. “I mean, living together. At least right now. Money is already tight for you, isn’t it? And I mean, it’s not like my own job is the most stable right now.”

“Y/N, do you really think that matters?” Arthur looked almost angry as he spoke, as if the fact that you were concerned about finances was ridiculous in such a situation. You knew Arthur enough to know he wasn’t actually mad, at least not at you, but still on edge at the threat of your loss of shelter. “You’ll be homeless, and - and who knows what could happen to you out there -” The hitch in Arthur’s breath as he spoke, coupled with the way his left hand gripped at the fabric of his trousers clued you in that this was something extremely distressing for him. 

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, yet you refused to let them fall as you blinked them away. “Arthur -”

“Please,” Arthur’s hand shot out for your own, his warm from holding the hot drink previously as he held your hand tight in his own. “Y/N, please.. Don’t worry about money, we’ll figure it out - but it’s dangerous, it’s awful out there and I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you -” 

Had you not stopped him midsentence with a gentle “Hey -”, you’d no doubt Arthur would’ve either succumbed to a fit of laughter, tears, or both.

“ - Arthur, hey,” Your free hand that wasn’t kept in his own reached for his shoulder, tugging gently on the fabric of that brown cardigan you so loved, pulling him closer to you. His forehead came to rest on your shoulder, his breath just barely noticeable against the fabric of your chest. “I dont... I don’t know what I’d do, either - Arthur I just don’t want to add more to your plate, you’re already so overworked, I shouldn’t have even mentioned it.”

You could feel Arthur shake his head at your words, but he didn’t speak - not that you blamed him.

With your lips now pressed to the top of his head, you took a deep breath, breathing in his scent. That comforting scent you’ve come to love and seek out within the few months you’ve been with him - the scent you, really, wouldn’t mind being surrounded by all of the time. 

“We’ll try,” You said finally, not missing how Arthur seemed to tense up at your words. “Arthur I... would love to stay here - I would, love to live with you. It’s going to take some time to adjust - never mind actually making the move - but... I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

You could’ve laughed at how Arthur shot up at this, his eyes wide as he seemed full of disbelief for a moment before your own reassuring smile sparked a growing grin on his face. “Do you really mean it, Y/N?”

“Waking up with, going to bed next to, coming home to you doesn’t sound all too bad, the more I think about it,” You whispered, your body finding its way to Arthur’s as his arms pulled you close. 

Maybe this home wouldn’t be so bad. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------taglist;

@ajokeformur-ray​​​ @theangelmaker  @fleckcmscott   @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend​  @tsukiakarinobara​​ @darknessisafriend​​ @honking4joker  @sgtsavoytruffle​​ @smol-nari

[mirkwoodshewolf]

The first sign; Jack Kline x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well it’s been awhile since I updated my Rock angel series and for good reason too because here is where things get DARK!! As you’ll see in the taglist below I’ve started putting trigger warnings cause in this part it involves stalking, dog attacks (some people fear dogs so I wanted to be respectful). Now the next chapter after this will REALLY be insane so I hope you all buckle up cause you’re in for one hell of a ride.

Also face cast for Steve I put the gif for Joe Keery, and for the Rock Angel’s manager just look up actor James Woods (aka Hades from Hercules).

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queendeakyy​

@queen-paladin​

@queensdivas​

@wormzteef​

@geek-and-proud​

@starswin​

@onebigfangirlworld​

@dj-lowkey​

@naturalswifty89​

@isabella-bby​

@bohemiansweede​

@5sos-wdw​

@labessieisallama​

_______________________________________________________

Everyone thinks it won’t happen to me, that I’m immune to such evil.  No one thinks they’ll ever experience such a thing but you’d sadly be lying, or in complete denial.  At least everyone goes through this type of evil at one point in their lives.  And for celebrities, it’s a living hell because the world will only watch with a bucket of popcorn and enjoy your pain and suffering.

The only ones you can depend on are your family.  And don’t ever say they wouldn’t understand because they will.  Had I not told my family about what was going on—you know what fuck it they were forced into this.  But even so if they didn’t know what was going on, this part of my story would’ve ended very, very, very, very differently.

*2 months after the tribute concert*

I hadn’t slept in a week.  I was exhausted with trying to put the final touches on my tribute album for Freddie.  My manager James Woods was really putting the heat on me with trying to get this album up so that I could ring in the money for him.  Wait first let me backup just a tick and explain some things first.

When I first transferred out of EMI and went to Hollywood Records, my manager at the time was a man known as Desmond Roberts.  He was a generous, kind man who saw my potential as a female musician and like Miami, pushed me to do my best.  He was a family man as well; at the time he had become a grandfather for the first time at the age of 52.

But earlier this year he had to retire because it was by law of the company that all representatives must retire by the age of 65. With that my new manager was his young and vibrant VP James Woods.  James is—well let’s just say he’d make a better car salesman than a recording manager.

A man born and bred in the heart of Boston, he’s the kind of man who sees his own vision and wants other people to execute it for him. Hell he’s even been pressuring me to go more into Pop music as that is the rising fame of music now.  Artists like Madonna, Gwen Stefani, rising star Christina Aguilera, and Mariah Carey.  He wanted to push me to going in their direction.

But I reminded him of my original contract that I signed on between Miami and Desmond.  That my image was to never, ever, ever under any circumstances be changed. Yes he even tried to make me change my stage name into the Spicy Angel (yeah that didn’t sit right with me).

To put it frank—my current manager is a stubborn, two-headed, forked-tongue, snake in the grass.  Sleezy, and can make some vulgar comments either towards me or some of my roadies.

But the one step he took too far was when he hired his own nephew to be my PA (he claimed that he was trying to help out his sister). At first I was against it but with that pleading and begging persuasionistic tone of his, for some reason I ended up agreeing and his nephew Steve Harrison became my new PA.

Steve Harrison.  He was the same age as Jack, had deep brown eyes, a fairly handsome face, but his crown jewel was his hair.  He always bragged and fussed about his hair.  Brown and fluffed up beyond anything, like cotton candy.  Silky and moosed to no end.  Wow and I thought I was bad when it came to doing my air before a show.

Now Steve definitely knew his way around the recording station.  Made sure that every song I recorded sounded to perfection, always sought to my every need, ensured that for upcoming tours I was given updates on the schedule, and he even took my calls and wrote them down for me.  He kept his work profession throughout all of 1991.

But when the summer of 92 came around, things began to change.

As I said before, I hadn’t slept a week.  The Freddie Mercury tribute album was taking longer than the company expected.  That’s because I wanted to make sure every song, especially the cover ones that Fred had given me legal rights to do, were perfect.

I was at the controls listening to my version of Somebody to love when the door opened behind me.

“I would’ve thought her royal highness would’ve gone home?”

“Perfectionists never stop. I learned that from the best group of men I know.” He took the empty seat next to me and presented me with a cup of coffee.  I softly thanked him and went back to listening to my song.

When the last vibrato rang out on the word ‘love’, Steve sighed and said.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s shit!” I complained. “God why did he give me such responsibility to do these songs I-I-I—not I’m even worthy to do his songs. At least not without him.”

“This version is the best. Better than I’ve ever heard it been played. In fact……I think you’re better than Freddie Mercury.” I snapped my head towards him.

“Freddie Mercury was and will always be a genius. His voice is unlike any other performer’s and his style of writing will forever go down in music history as the best damn thing the world will ever know! So don’t you ever say that someone is better than him. Especially me!” I shot up from the chair, it rolled back and slammed against the wall and I turned towards the wall with my arms crossed over my chest, and breathed heavily trying to calm down.

“I—I’m sorry. I was just speaking my opinion. I—didn’t know how much you cared about him. He…..must’ve really meant something to you.” He spoke softly.

“More than you’ll ever know.” I muttered as I fingered the bracelet Fred gave me as a birthday gift. “And I’m sorry Steve I—I didn’t mean to shout. I’m……just exhausted and stressed. With your uncle—”

“Hey, I get it. Uncle James can be a real pain in the ass at times.” I turned towards him and saw him standing a few inches away from me. “Hell one time when I was 16, I had asked him if I could take his mustang for a test drive and he told me ‘kid you so much as even leave a fingerprint you’re as dead as a doornail and I don’t care if you’re my nephew’.” The two of us laughed at his uncle’s impersonation.

“And I thought I was the only one with a douche uncle.”

“Oh trust me, you think he’s demanding at work? You should see him round the holidays.” I softly laughed.  That’s when I felt his finger slightly graze against the back of my palm.

My heart stopped and that’s when I noticed that he had gotten a little closer to me.  Closer and closer his face came but I quickly got out of his way and said.

“Excuse me, I gotta sign off this track and ship it off by tomorrow morning.” I grabbed Steve’s chair and went straight back into my work.  As I was fiddling around with the switches and buttons, I could feel that he was standing right there beside me.  I tried to ignore him and focus on my work but his lingering presence grew too much.

Like a moth to the flame.  Silent but fluttering around too close.

I turned to say something to him, that’s when his lips suddenly crashed with mine.  My eyes widened and my body froze for a moment before my brain snapped back into reality.

I pushed him away and slapped him across the face. Standing up and my chest heaving in so many mixed emotions, but the one main emotion going out about me was anger.

“What the fuck Steve!? Why did you do that!? You know I’m happily married and have children!”

“I—I’m sorry I just…..I’ve always been a fan of yours and I just….I’m sorry. Please don’t tell my uncle. You know as well as I do what he’s like. He’ll beat me to a pulp if he finds out. Please Angel I beg of you, don’t tell him.” His eyes going fearful and tears shined at the corner of his eyes.

I wish I could say that I told him that I was going to rat him out, have him fired even but—I didn’t.  He’s right I did know what it was like to have an abusive uncle.  Now while my uncle never really touched my physical, he did have his temper and would throw things at me just barely missing me (that mostly happened when he was on the bottle).

“Only if you promise me you won’t do shit like that again. And never speak of this to anyone.”

“I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” He said as he crossed his heart with his finger.  I narrowed my eyes at him and grabbed my purse.

“Take the day off tomorrow. Then come back on Monday to work. Professionally.” I emphasized the last word and he nodded and I walked out without another word.

I wish I could take it all back.  That I had fired him right then and there, if I had then what would eventually come, wouldn’t have happened.  Or at least not gotten to the scale that it did get to.

*3 weeks after the kiss*

I was on the Late Show with David Letterman doing a television interview about the upcoming album as well as my tour coming later in the year.

“So Rock Angel your upcoming album ‘Fly High Mercury’ is said to be unlike your previous albums is that right? It also was the one that also took you the longest to make correct?”

“Yes it is.”

“Care to explain?”

“Well as you can tell by the title this is a tribute album to Freddie Mercury.” The audience applauded.  I nodded and swallowed a lump in my throat.  “Some of the songs are what I’ve written but another half of them are Queen songs that Freddie himself gave me legal rights to make a cover to. In fact they were some of my favorites.”

“Now how long did it take you to make this album?” David asked me.

“Well the songs I did, took roughly a couple of months but when—Freddie passed away I took a few months off to grieve and then as you all may have seen I was a part of the tribute concert so in total almost ten months.”

“Wow ten months.” I nodded. “And you said Freddie gave you the rights to some of Queen’s songs to cover?”

“Yes.”

“How did it feel to have that kind of pressure on you?”

“I’ll be honest it was tough. How-how do you compete with someone like Freddie Mercury? His voice and musical talents were unlike anything anyone’s ever seen or will ever see most likely. And when he asked me to do some of Queen’s works, particularly the songs he himself had written, I felt like I was going up against goliath and I was David. But—Fred has his reasons for why he does what he does, and—he must’ve felt like I could help embrace his memory further by introducing a new audience to some of Queen’s work, especially their earliest songs.” The crowd applauded.

“Well said, well said. Freddie will truly be forever missed. When we come back we have Kurt Russel joining us and then after that the Rock Angel will perform one of her hit songs from her recent album Fly High Mercury which is now available in stores. The Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline everybody!” the crowd applauded and David and I shook hands with each other as his theme song played us out on the commercial break.

I went backstage to change out from my black sequin interview dress and into some regular but dressy performance clothes.  A black leather jacket, a white blouse, tight jeans, and some high-heeled black boots.

“Oh angel.” I internally groaned.  Speak of the devil.  James Woods soon came into my dressing room without a single care in the world (he’s lucky I’ve learned to do quick changes otherwise we’d have a problem). “Now darling please remind me again why you’ve declined Donald Trump’s hotel gig? He’s offered plenty of money for your performance especially since it’s his son’s birthday that day.”

“When I went to talk to him he also made me an offer I simply had to refuse.” I shuddered. “He’s a pig and an upright asshole with no respect for anyone but himself and his precious hotel business. God help us if he ever becomes President.”

“Fine. Instead of adding to the profit we would’ve gotten from this, we’ll take it out of your next pay how bout that?” I glared at him.

“You really wanna go toe to toe with me regarding money? Go ahead. Just know I’ve got the best lawyers in all of London on my side and they’ve been good to me for 10 years. So you better pucker your lips and do some serious arse kissing to the judge because they’ve won every. Single. Case I’ve ever had to do. From false stories to paparazzi stalking.” I stared him down even though I only came up to his chest.

Even through those cold, greedy eyes of his, I saw that he was afraid.

“Ahh court cases are a waste of time and a waste of profit. Now go on out there and give them a show baby cakes.”

“Never call me baby cakes.” I trudged out of my dressing room with my red special in hand and headed back towards the stage to sing my song.

After the show ended, I was back in my hotel room in Manhattan.  I had just gotten done with my shower and soon coming into the room was Jack with some late night takeout.

“Chinatown special for the Rock Angel.” I smiled and splayed myself across the bed as he came toward me with the food.

“Mmm room service and a cute delivery boy. I am one lucky girl.”

“Well then Mrs. Kline, do I get a special tip for my services?” Jack played along with a grin.  I smirked and placed my hand on the back of his head and brought his lips towards mine.  His hands soon came to my waist as we separated but I kissed him again.  Jack hummed in surprise. “A double tip? Well then, guess I need to be the delivery boy more often.” I giggled and took my food out of the bag.

“But serious babe, thanks for getting the food.”

“Hey no problem, anything for my beautiful rock star. I know that with your schedule firing back up, you don’t have time for a normal meal like we did before.”

“Did you call your mom about the kids?”

“Yep. Kids are safe and healthy. Well Little Jack had a slight fever but he was better within a day thanks to mama’s secret chicken noodle soup. I know that thing saved my life as a kid.”

“Well then she better……” a knock was soon heard at the door. Jack and I looked at each other confused.  He stood up from the bed and answered the door.  I held my robe tighter around me and soon I heard the door slam shut and Jack soon came in with a bouquet of a dozen roses.  “Did you order those?”

“Nope. But I’ve got a feeling who did.” He turned as he glared to the room opposite of our suite.

Well of course I told Jack about the kiss.  I know what it’s like to have been cheated on so there was no way in fucking hell I was gonna keep this a secret from Jack.  As you can see he has not taken it well, in fact he’s grown very angry and jealous when Steve gets mentioned.

“Let me see the card.” He tossed the bouquet down on the bed. I sent him a glare and went to pick the card out and I opened it up.  And low and behold it was from Steve.  Even though it didn’t have his name on it, I recognized his handwriting anywhere.  He wrote.

Fabulous performance (as always).  A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

Your secret admirer and #1 fan

“You should’ve fired him.”

“Oh so you’re saying this is my fault!?” I snapped.

“No that’s not what I’m saying!” Jack snapped back at me. “I just…..” he exhaled deeply trying to release his anger. “I don’t trust him anymore. Not after what he did. In fact ever since he’s kissed you he’s been sending you a lot of stuff. The flowers, your favorite German chocolates, he even gave a teddy bear to our daughter! I’m telling you something about him now is just……” I walked up to him and embraced him.

“I know love, I know. I don’t feel comfortable around him too. But—he is James’ nephew and unfortunately he wants his sister to get off his back with this favor.”

“That shouldn’t matter! If he makes you uncomfortable you should just fire him and not even worry about what that sales talker of a manager tells you.” He is right.  It shouldn’t have to go on like this but unfortunately the business world isn’t on my side when it comes to choosing my PA’s, I was thankful enough to keep my touring roadies and not get some rookies or 40 year old perverts who get high or drunk.

“The likes of a woman in a men’s workforce. I wish I could Jack but I can’t. Legally anyways. Look I’m exhausted right now can we please just go to bed?”

“Alright. But we will come back to this. (Y/n) I’m only stressed about this because I don’t want to lose you. What if—”

“Hey!” I put my finger of his lips. “Don’t you dare think like that. I know celebrities are always the first to die when it comes to crazed fans. But I swear to you Jack Kline, I will not be one of those singers to die at the hands of a so called ‘fan’. I’m your lioness.”

“And no one can break you down.” We pressed our forehead together and just stayed like that for a good long moment.  I then softly kissed him and went to change out of my robe into my nightdress.  Jack stripped down to his boxers and we put our takeout in the mini-fridge by the bed and turned off the lights before cuddling close together.

*September 8th, 1992*

It was Kelly’s first day of 1st grade.  Jack and I couldn’t believe that our little girl was on her way to 1st grade.  Of course to me it was the first day of primary school but still it was a big day for her.  So Jack and I were sure to be there to see her off but sadly both of us had a long day today so we couldn’t go pick her up.

I was busy prepping for my upcoming tour while Jack got backed up with the car dealership.  But thankfully Jack’s cousin Jared (who was working a case at the time) volunteered to go pick Kelly up after school.  Now this school was at the top with their security, only those who were approved by the Parent or Guardian could pick up the child (which was good with us).

So Jack and I made sure to list the family members down in order so we went from Kelly Kline, Misha Kline, Roger Taylor, Brian May, John Deacon, and Jared and Jensen Walker as the adults to pick Kelly Kline up from school should Jack and I not be available.

It was late in the afternoon, around 3:30ish and I was talking with my tour manager Phillipe about where each performance was gonna take place when the phone suddenly rang.  One of the assistants answered it and she said.

“Hollywood Records how may I help you?” there was a pause and suddenly her voice went frantic. “Whoa, whoa, whoa wait a minute slow down. Slow down who are you wanting to talk to?” I turned to her confused. “Okay hold on I’ll get her,” she turned to me and said as she held the phone close to her breast, “Mrs. Kline someone wants to speak to you. Says his name is Jared Walker.” I immediately shot up and took the phone and said frantically.

“Jared what’s happened?”

‘I-I-I-I went to pick Kelly up like I said I would, but when I got there they had said you had already sent approval of someone else to come get her!’

My heart stopped.  They say it’s every parent’s worse nightmare come true, but it’s never fully real until it happens to you.

I dropped the phone as Jared’s voice echoed through the speakers calling out my name.

“CALL THE POLICE! CALL JACK! CALL KELLY’S SCHOOL! CALL ANYONE!!” I screamed frantically.

The search for my daughter was—one of the worst things I ever had to go through.  Just who in the hell would know where exactly her school was? Not only that but who got my approval to sign off for her release?

I was frantic to the bone.  I kept pacing with anxiety as every fiber of my being was buzzing with all kinds of emotions.  Jack and Jared tried their best to calm me down but I wasn’t going to be calm till I had my baby in my arms.

After an hour and a half grueling search, the home phone suddenly rang.  I went up to the phone and answered it.

“Hello?!” there was silence at the end of it for awhile till finally his voice came up.

‘Lose your little cub?’ my eyes narrowed and now only rage filled my body.

“Where is she Steve?” I sneered.

‘Just meet me by the spot where the first action sequence of Terminator 2 was shot.’ Then the line went dead.  I hung up the phone, grabbed my keys and dragged Jared by the arm towards my car and we raced down the highway.

When we arrived at Bull Creek, I told Jared to stay in the car while I handled Steve.  I got out of the car and right there at the very track where the first action chase scene of the film took place at.

Just ahead of me was a blue Ferrari leaning against it was Steve Harrison.  And through the windows I could see Kelly playing with her favorite doll that she took with her to school, without a care in the world.

“So glad you finally made it Angel. Didn’t think I’d expect to see you to take my advice so quick.”

“Open the door.” I sneered.

“Gee not even a thank you?” he joked.

“I don’t have time for bullocks right now Harrison! Now open your bloody car door and give me back my baby!” he went over and opened the door and once Kelly saw me, her smile on her face grew wider.

“Mummy!” she cheered as she got out and raced towards me. I immediately knelt down and picked her up in my arms.

“Oh my baby girl. Oh thank god you’re safe! Are you okay? Look at me. We were all so worried about you.” I said as I kept kissing all over her face.  She groaned and tried to get me to stop.

“I’m fine mum! Mum stop it stop kissing me! Mr. Steve said you changed your mind about uncle Jared coming to pick me up.” I glared over to Steve and said.

“Honey go in mummy’s car and wait there with Uncle Jared.” I kissed her one last time and she did as I asked her to.  I walked closer to Steve as he kept talking.

“Lovely reunion. See I knew you’d appreciate what I’d done. After all as your personal—” I sucker punched him hard across the face sending him down to the ground.  Blood even dripped down his nose. “Wow. Wow!” he scoffed. “I-I-I-I know that girls could punch but that…..that was—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” I snapped at him.

“You should be grateful. I did you a favor. I picked up your daughter from her first day of school.” He tried to reason with me.

“You had no legal right too! You kidnapped her!”

“Kidnapped?! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa wait time out!” he stood up and wiped his bloody nose. “Wow head rush. Okay hang on a minute. You were incredibly business with the tour manager so I knew you wouldn’t be able to pick her up. And of course Jack……” he sneered out Jack’s name with anger and jealousy. “He works now right? I mean about damn time too, can’t be the house husband forever right?” My glare deepened, “Anyways, so no one else was there to pick up sweet, little Kelly so I volunteered myself to pick her up. Didn’t want her staying at the school all by herself, now did we?”

“She wasn’t going to be alone we arranged for Jared to pick her up!” at that Steve’s face turned to shock as he said.

“Oh. Well—this is awkward.” Oh he was an incredible actor I’ll give him that.

“What is wrong with you Steve? What were you trying to accomplish here?” that’s when his eyes darkened and grew cold.  His voice even changed to a possessive tone as he walked closer to me.

“Jack doesn’t deserve you. A farm boy like that? No you need a real man at your side. Someone who gets the business, someone who is always by your side. I know who you are (Y/n) Kline.”

He tried to grab my chin but I clenched his hand in mine and dug my nails into his skin.  My hand shaking with rage as I stared him down.

“Is that what you think? You think by doing all this you actually believe I would leave Jack for you? You’re even more delusional than Jack painted you. Now I see it for myself.” I threw his hand down and backed away from him. “A wise man once said to another slime like yourself, ‘you just see what you want to see’. Next time you even touch or go near any of my kids, I swear to you there won’t be a courthouse that your uncle can bride with what I’ll charge you for.” I turned and walked back to the car and took Kelly home.

Of course I wish I could say that was the last time I ever saw Steve’s face again.  But due to lack of evidence in the fact that Steve had given a false document allowing him to take Kelly, he wasn’t charged with kidnapping.  

Plus his uncle got involved and swindled with his business talk saying that I was under a lot of pressure with the upcoming tour and that police action at the time of Kelly’s disappearance wasn’t necessary.  He also emphasized that Kelly wasn’t harmed in anyway so it’s not like his nephew was an evil person.  So the police believed James’ story and no charges were filed and Steve was a free man to do as he pleased.

Jack and I reinforced the school and even gave them Steve’s picture saying that if he ever came into the school again asking for Kelly again, they were to call the police because Steve Harrison does not have access to take Kelly out of school.

Little did I know that things were only going to get worse after that day.

*October 3rd, 1992. Jack’s POV*

It first began with the constant phone calls to the house. The phone was constantly ringing and everytime I picked it up, there was no one there.  Just heavy breathing and then they’d hang up.  It happened for hours on end, even at some odd hours in the night.

Soon enough I had had enough and decided to unplug all the house phones and I got me my first cellphone.  If anyone in the family wanted to reach me, I told them to call by my new cellphone and that’s where I was talking to my Angel at.

‘Have the phone calls kept coming?’

“Unfortunately yes they did. But I unplugged the house phone so hopefully whoever it is gets the point and drops these crank calls and finds someone else to torment.”

‘I don’t know Jack. Maybe I should just come back and forget this tour.’

“No, no. Look, you nearly missed out the Angel-Queen tour back when we first met, I won’t let you cancel this tour either. Besides the world needs their Angel right now.” I assured her.

‘Yeah but—’

“What would he say right now?” I interrupted her.  I heard her softly scoff and I knew she was smiling on the other end.

‘He’d tell me ‘Angel darling stop being so dramatic. There’s only room in this partnership for one hysterical Queen. Plus you’ll get early wrinkles’.’ We both laughed. ‘God I miss him so much. I can’t believe it’ll almost be a year come November.’

“I know. Have you talked to the guys at all since the concert?”

‘Not really. Figure I’d give them some space. They know my team’s number if they want to talk to me.’ I nodded and hummed in understandment so that she knew I was still listening.

“So you made it to Phoenix in one piece?”

‘Yeah thankfully. I’ll give you a call right after the show. Give the kids a kiss and cuddle for me.’

“Oh you know I will.” I said with a smile.

‘I love you Jack Kline; you know that right?’

“Of course I do. And I love you to the moon and back. Have a good show baby.”

‘I will. I love you.’

“I love you infinity times infinity there. Now you can’t say you love me more.” I heard her giggle. “Knock ‘em dead Angel.”

‘I will, bye.’

“Bye.” We both hung up and I deeply sighed.

“Daddy?” I looked up and there was Kelly in her nightdress holding her stuffed lion that her godfather gifted her.

“Hey baby girl, why are you awake?” I asked concerned. She walked up to me and sat down in my lap and said.

“I couldn’t sleep. Can you tell me a bedtime story? You know how like uncle Freddie used to tell me?” I stroked down her hair and said.

“Well, I’m not as extravagant or detailed as he used to make it but—I’ll do my best. C’mon I’ll make you some warm milk and tuck you back into bed, sound good?” she nodded.  I picked her up, set her on the kitchen counter and prepared her some warm milk.

After that I carried her back to her bed and tucked her back under her covers and she took a sip of her milk.

“Okay so, what shall it be tonight? Do you want a story about—fairies?” she shook her head. “Unicorns?” again she shook her head. “Oh how about the story of a beautiful princess who gets saved by a knight in shining armor?”

“No daddy. Do you know the story of the lioness Queen?”

“The lioness Queen?”

“Uncle Freddie once told me a story about the lioness Queen who was raised by evil wolves but soon came on top as Queen of her own pride. He was gonna finish the story of how she would find herself a king but then—” she trailed off and I could see the tears prickling in her eyes.  Oh that Freddie, of course he would tell our story like we were two lions.

“I think I know that story. Now again I may not be as good of a storyteller as Uncle Freddie was but I’ll do my best.” I sat down by her bedside and she cuddled up into her pillow, her stuffed lion in her arms. “Now let’s see……the Lioness Queen had reached the height of her reign. Everyone loved her because of her kindness and loyalty, but she was very much lonely. Sure she had the support of her new family but she still longed for someone she could love more than the family love she had from her new pride. So one day when she was out hunting, she was suddenly ambushed by the no good jackal. Now this jackal had particularly taken an interest in our brave Lioness Queen but she knew to not take any of his bullying. However he had brought his entire pack and they ganged up on the poor lioness.”

“Daddy don’t make it too scary.”

“Right, right, right I’m sorry angel. But the lioness Queen didn’t have to fear anymore. Because leaping from over the tall savannah grass was a dashing, handsome and powerful lion.  He beat the jackals away and told the head jackal to leave and never bother the lioness again. Soon the jackal tucked his tail in like a frightened dog and fled the savannah and was never seen again. The lioness Queen was in debt to the young lion that saved her so she asked him if they could go to the watering hole together to talk and get to know each other more.”

I continued on to tell her mine and (Y/n)’s story of the day we met and fell in love with each other.  Then about midway through the story I looked down and saw Kelly was finally back asleep.  I smiled and kissed her forehead.

“Sleep tight my little lioness cub.” I walked out of her room and shut her door and walked back downstairs.

I walked towards the kitchen and I saw Sammy lying asleep on his doggie bed and Bucky asleep on his.  But as soon as I came in, the two of them looked up at me.

“Hey Buck, Sammy.” Buck grunted as he sat up and came up towards me and sat down.  I ruffled the top of his head. “Okay so what do you say last quick trip outside then time for you guys to get in your pin?” Sammy’s tail wagged as he immediately went towards the backdoor.  I opened it up and he immediately went outside. “Alright Buck come on outside go out and go potty.”

But Bucky seemed tense.  He lowly growled before racing towards the front door.

“Bucky? Buck!” Bucky went over to the front door and suddenly began barking aggressively and very loudly. “Buck! Buck shh! Quiet!” but he refused to listen to me.  He kept barking and barking and barking.  His fangs were out as he raced from the door to the windows.  Growls came out of him and I noticed that his fur was on end.

Okay maybe it’s another dog or a raccoon or something, he tends to do that and we’re trying to break him of that habit.  I grabbed his leash and when he was finally still I got it hooked to his collar and forced him towards his pin.

“Get in your pin now!” he snapped at him.  I got him in his pin and as soon as I shut the door he started whimpering frantically, pacing around his pin letting out bark after bark.  “Shhhh! You’re gonna wake the kids Buck now quiet!” I looked towards the front door and sighed heavily.  Might as well just see just what’s out there.

I grabbed a flashlight and quickly stepped outside. I shined the light in every corner of darkness but I didn’t see a thing.  No stray dog, nor a racoon, a cat not even a squirrel.

“That Buck is crazy sometimes.” It was then I noticed that our trashcan had somehow gone out to the side of the road.  “I thought I brought that in when I came in this afternoon? Damn pranksters.” I left the front gate that surrounded our house and walked out to the curb to grab our trashcan and bring it back towards the side of the garage.

That’s when a loud purr of an engine roared through the quiet streets and bright headlights flashed right towards me.  I heard the screeching of tires coming right towards me and without even thinking I ducked right up towards my driveway and I heard the sound of our garbage can being hit and tossed across the road.

The car’s lights soon turned off and sped off down the street. I panted heavily, my adrenaline now starting to collapse as I began to realize what could’ve happened just now.

Someone was trying to run me over and kill me.  I knew that couldn’t be a mechanical problem cause why would the headlights suddenly come on and then accelerate straight towards me before driving normally down the road?

Only one person came across my mind as to who would go so far as to get rid of me.  Steve.

I called up Jared and using his lawyer expertise he asked me various questions but unfortunately since I couldn’t identify the model of the car clear enough and couldn’t read the license plate in time there was no way for me to truly say it was him unless I could physically prove it.

But after that night I didn’t see Steve again, and I hoped that was the end of it.  Until Halloween came around.

*Halloween night, 1992. 8:30pm*

I had just brought the kids in from our night of trick or treating.  You know I’m glad we decided to allow the kids some time to know the American holidays cause I had to explain this to the guys as well as (Y/n) just what Halloween really was (since they don’t really celebrate it there in jolly old England).

I dressed the boys up as little lions while Kelly went as a witch this year.  We all came in carrying our bags of candy.

“Candy!” Georgie exclaimed.

“That’s right buddy. We got candy, lots and lots of candy.” I told him as I got them out of their little red wagon.

“Daddy, daddy can we eat all the candy tonight please?” Kelly begged.

“You know your mother will kill me if she finds out I let you eat sweets before bedtime.” She whined before giving me her mother’s puppy dog face.

“Please daddy. Not even one itty bitty, teeny tiny bite?” I playfully placed my hands over her face which made her exclaim and shoo away my hand.

“You can have just one. Piece. But that’s it okay?” she cheered and quickly went through her bag and got out a blueberry flavored lollipop.

“Hey daddy? How come we can’t do trick or treating back where uncle Brian, uncle Deacy and papa Roger live?”

“Well sweetie, sometimes other countries don’t do the things we do. And sadly Halloween is just another day for them.”

“They should. Maybe next year papa Roger and I can be Star wars characters together.” I chuckled.

“I think your uncle Brian would enjoy that more than papa Roger.”

“But I wanted papa Roger and I to be Han and Princess Leia. Uncle Brian can be Chewie.”

“And uhh—who-who did you have in mind to be Luke?” I said brushing my fingers through my hair.

“Mommy! Cause she’s brave and strong just like Luke is! Georgie and Jackson can be R2.”

“And just who will uncle Deacy and I be?”

“Well uncle Deacy can be Obi-Wan and you’re C3-PO.” Wow she gives me the nagging droid.

“Oh so you think I’m a mindless philosopher ehh!? Come here you!” I quickly grabbed her and began tickling her which made her shriek and squirm.  “Have me be Luke Skywalker or the tickling continues your highness!” I mimicked Darth Vader’s voice.

“Ne-nevheherererer!” she said through her laughter.  I proceeded with the tickling till I heard the sound of a car engine coming down the street.

My mind suddenly went back to that night when I nearly got ran over.  I set Kelly down on the floor and peeked through the curtains and could see someone standing right beside a familiar shape of a car that I knew well.

“Daddy? Is……everything okay?” I looked down at Kelly before quickly looking back towards the window.

“Kelly I need you to listen to me very carefully sweetheart. I want you to take your brothers and go to mommy and daddy’s room and hide in the closet. And no matter what happens do not come out till I come and get you, okay?”

“But why daddy? What’s going on?”

“Just!” I snapped but clenched my hand tightly and said as I knelt down to her height. “Please Kelly, do as your father tells you. Remember not a word or even let me see you till I tell you it’s safe, promise?”

“I promise.” I hugged her tightly and gave her a kiss and told her to go get her brothers and get upstairs.  I glared at the door and opened it up before closing it.  I walked towards the front gate and that’s when I heard his voice say.

“Well, well, well, Jack Kline I’ll be damned. Still around eh?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s me don’t cream your pants.” I sassed bluntly at him.

“Saw that you and the kiddies were doing a little trick or treating. That’s nice of you but umm…..what are you supposed to be? A new kid on the block?” I scoffed.

“What do you want Harrison?”

“What can’t a PA come up to check on his superstar?”

“I don’t know what world you live in but (Y/n) fired you last week.”

“Yeah, you see that-that-that’s…..that’s another reason why I came here. See, I personally am the best and most qualified PA that the Rock Angel could ever have. But while we were in Pittsburg, I get a notice saying that I’ve been fired. Now she never told me why so I thought who is more jealous of me and brainwashing the Rock Angel, than her own husband? So—care to explain?”

“Guess you were dropped as a child one too many times.” I walked closer to the front gate and said in Steve’s face. “She got tired of your advancements towards her.  My wife isn’t like all other rock stars cause she’s been on the end of the cheating stick. And she knows to not put me or our kids through something like that.”

“Really lives up to her angel name huh?” he smart mouthed me. “Let me tell you though buddy boy. We have fucked with each other, and boy is she a freak in the sheets.” Bullshit I know he’s lying.  “We’ve even fucked with each other here at your own house when you were away on business. I mean—who can say no to this?” he gestured to himself.

“You are even worse than we thought. Now do yourself a favor and fuck off Steve before I call the cops.”

“One problem with that amigo.”

“And what’s that? Amigo.” Suddenly I was grabbed by my shirt and a punch went straight through my stomach.  I collapsed to the ground and the gate opened up.  Steve stood over me and he sneered down.

“The cops are working for me.” I was then kicked in the ribs and I watched in horror as Steve kicked the door in and walked right on in the house.

*3rd Person POV*

As Steve entered the Kline residence, a place he had actually been inside a lot with his uncle on the meetings with (Y/n) to discuss further progress with her albums, brandings, etc.  He walked up the stairs and went straight for the master bedroom where Jack and (Y/n) slept.

He looked around as he slowly walked around the bedroom before seeing the closet at the corner of his eyes.  He turned towards it and walked right up to it before slowly reaching for the door.  With a quick flick, the door was opened but no one was there.  He then saw some of (Y/n)’s stuff like her hats and scarves.

He took a red scarf and inhaled it before pocketing it into his back pocket.  That’s when he suddenly heard a thump from the corner of the room.  That’s when his attention went to the wardrobe.  A smirk spread across his face and as he opened it there he saw Kelly, Georgie and Jackson all huddled together.

“Hey kids, whatcha doin in here?”

“Go away! Mommy and daddy don’t like you anymore and neither do we!” Steve laughed at Kelly’s empty demand.

“Kids today. Guess I’m gonna have to teach you some manners little missy.” Suddenly he was turned around and a hard punch sent him down to the ground.

“Daddy!” Kelly cheered.

“Daddy! Daddy!” the boys repeated.

*Jack’s POV*

Like hell I was gonna just sit there and allow Steve to take whatever the hell he wants or worse find the kids.  Spitting out some blood I staggered towards the house and walked up the stairs.  That’s when I heard Kelly’s voice cry out.

“Mommy and daddy don’t like you anymore and neither do we!”

“Kids today. Guess I’m gonna have to teach you some manners little missy.” Like hell you will! I raced as Steve was talking and immediately grabbed him by the shoulder of his jacket, turned him around and sucker punched him across the face.  My kids cried out for me while Steve staggered to stand up.

He soon began laughing before letting out a hoot.  His nose bleeding from the punch I just gave him as well as his mouth.

“Looks like I underestimated you farm boy! I took you for a pushover but now I see just what that bitch sees in you! Lion King Jack she likes to call you!”

“Get. Out.” I demanded.  Steve chuckled icily and said.

“And what if I don’t?” he spat blood in my face.  I then let out a whistle and said two commands.

“Sick. Em.” Soon running past my right leg Sammy attacked Steve at his ankles tripping him over.  Sammy maybe all sweet and innocent but when he needs to be (especially since Steve’s been around) he knows when someone needs to get bit.

Steve fell right onto his back as Sammy continued to bite and tear at his pants.

“YOU DAMN DOG!! LET GO!”

“You gonna surrender now?”

“FUCK. YOU!” I let out another whistle and soon barking in aggressively was Bucky.  And being a German shepherd he was not holding back.  Sammy released Steve’s leg for a moment and allowed his brother to take over.

Bucky bit Steve’s shoulder and tackled him to the ground and I knew he was biting down harder cause Steve’s screams got louder and more painful.

“Boys come!” the boys came back and stood guard of the wardrobe growling and protectively standing guard over my kids. “You wanna test me again or shall I give them a second chance at a new chew toy?”

Even with multiple dog bites, Steve managed to somehow stand up and he glared with pure hatred at me.

“I’ll—I’ll see to it……that those mutts are put down for attacking me. My uncle will hear about this! And I’ll be sure that you’re put away for a long, long time. I know you guys have no cameras in or outside of this house, so no cameras, no proof.” His sick twisting smirk widened across his face.

He staggered out of the bedroom but I heard the sound of him collapsing down to the ground.  The dogs immediately went towards him but I didn’t hear any snarling or growling, instead I heard happy whimpering.

“Stay here kids.” I told them as I quickly I came out and I was shocked to see standing before Steve with a baseball bat in her hand was my wife, (Y/n).  She panted softly as she dropped the bat and then took out one of our large kitchen knives.

Bucky and Sammy stood guard of the stairs to ensure that Steve didn’t even try to escape and that’s when (Y/n) sneered down at Steve.

“From now on you are no never come near me or my family again. I don’t care what kind of connections you have; we’ve got enough evidence with you in this house without consent and a struggle going on in my very bedroom.”

“Screw you…….bitch.” Steve murmured.  Then I witnessed with my own eyes as my wife took that large 7in knife and slam it right down to the floor, very close to Steve’s dick.  Any further up and she would’ve removed his very identity as a man.

“SAY YOU UNDERSTAND! Say it. SAY IT!!!” She roared down at him.

“I understand.” He muttered quietly.

“You what?!”

“I understand.” He said a bit louder.  Her eyes steaming with hatred and fierce mother instincts stared Steve down as she removed the knife and she looked up to me and simply told me. “Call the police.”

Within minutes the police arrived and Steve was finally arrested. The police took our testimonies and a trial date was set for the 1st of December.

Now as I’m sure my wife as explained I wish we could say that was the last time we’d ever see Steve Harrison in our lives but we underestimated just how fucked up the legal system was here in California.

Thanks to his smooth, fast talking Uncle in trying to bride the judges and the jury, Steve didn’t serve any jail time. Only that he would have a restraining order set against him.  By law he wasn’t to get anywhere within 50ft of (Y/n) or our family.

Steve Harrison was once again a free man.

By the start of 1993, my wife was once again trying to contact the judge, police, and any other law enforcement about taking Steve’s advances seriously.  But all the same they kept turning her down saying there’s nothing else they can do.

That the restraining order will protect her, and if Steve does violate that then and only then could they talk serious jail time for him.

“Well then I want you guys to do one thing for me, the next time you bastards come to this house will be when my body is dead on the ground with a message in blood saying I told you so!” she hung up the phone and sobbed into her hands.

I slowly walked towards her and hesitantly sat down beside her. God I hate seeing her like this, she’s been worrying herself sick over this while still going on with the tour which will resume after this week.

“I—I don’t know what else to do Jack. I……” I refused to allow her to speak again.  I embraced her as tightly as I could and she wept hysterically into my arms.  Bucky and Sammy whimpering at our feet with Sammy licking her feet and Bucky nuzzling his head into her lap.

[aalissy]

Trust Fall

And today’s chapter is finished! I hope you guys like it <3. I had fun writing it haha. Lemme know what you think bc your feedback is everything to me :)

AO3

“Do you remember that time your bodyguard got akumatized into Gorizilla?” Ladybug asked, turning her head over to blink at Adrien rather curiously. They were both sitting together on his couch, enjoying the new anime that they were currently binging. She had started coming over regularly a short while ago. He had invited her in after she had smacked face-first into his window. One thing led to another and soon they were having nightly meetings.

Of course, he didn’t know the butterflies that fluttered to life in her stomach every time Adrien so much as decided to talk to her. She considered herself so lucky to spend even these short, small moments with him. Even if Tikki usually did berate her about using her powers afterwards...

“Yeah, I do remember that,” Adrien bobbed his head up and down, pausing the episode they were currently on to meet her gaze. “Why do you ask?”

Ladybug felt her cheeks turn a light shade of pink as she looked into his green eyes. She could get lost in him. Trying to snap out of the haze he had sent her into, she chuckled nervously. “J-just wondering.”

“Uh-huh?” He laughed back, raising an eyebrow at her curiously.

Her blush grew a shade darker and she turned her head away to avoid his sparkling, knowing gaze. Staring at the TV, she brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. Softly, she murmured, “I guess I was just wondering... um, how you trusted me so easily?”

“Oh,” Adrien said quietly and she saw his head turn away from hers out of the corner of her eye.

His foot tapped against the floor almost anxiously and Ladybug worried at her lower lip. Had she said something wrong? Maybe she should clear the air and get them back to watching their anime. That was safer, right?

Waving her hands in the air, she tried to smile even as it probably came across as a grimace. “N-never mind, it was a silly question anyway! Why wouldn’t you jump off of the top of a building when a superhero asks you to? I mean, I was the one calling the shots, after all, right?”

Adrien blinked over at her in shock after she had finished her short speech. Ladybug’s cheeks flamed once again as his mouth flapped open and closed a few times. Her palms itched to slap her forehead as she realized that she had screwed up again. What was up with her and sticking her foot in her mouth whenever she was around Adrien?

About to open her mouth and probably spit out another odd speech, he scooted closer to her, squeezing one of her hands in his. He shot her an easy, crooked smile as he chuckled lightly. “No, it’s alright, Ladybug. I was pretty crazy to do that.”

Her gaze remained fixed on his hands which were still entangled in hers. Adrien quickly ripped them out of her grip after he realized what she was staring at, though, murmuring an apology. Feeling the loss of his warmth instantly, Ladybug quickly clenched her fists, fighting the urge to take his hands back. Shaking her head, she gave him her own small grin. “No, you were fine. I was the crazy one for asking you to do it, actually. I guess I had just trusted that Chat Noir would be there.”

“Yeah,” Adrien muttered, scratching the back of his neck as he avoided her gaze again. Before she could think too much into that reaction, however, he spoke up again. “I think that the main reason that I jumped, though, Ladybug was because I really do trust you. You’ve saved Paris countless times. I just knew that you would also be able to save me.”

The ear-splitting beam that he sent made her feel weak at the knees. Grateful that she was sitting instead of standing, Ladybug blushed for what felt like the fiftieth time that day. “I-I’m glad that you trust me so much, Adrien,” she stuttered slightly.

Adrien trusted her! Like really trusted her! What had she done to get so lucky?! Dare she say it but it almost seemed like her crush had just as much faith in her as Chat Noir.

“Always, Ladybug.”

The words fell so easily from his lips. It almost seemed as natural as breathing for him. Her heart beat faster as she looked over at the boy who was her entire world. This time, Ladybug reached over to squeeze Adrien’s hand, murmuring quietly, “I trust you too, you know.”

He gaped at her in shock for a few minutes before his lips seemed to twitch in amusement. His green eyes shone knowingly as he asked, “As much as Chat Noir?”

She threw her head back as she giggled happily. When she had regained her breath, she nudged his shoulder with a mischievous twinkle in her gaze. “I think we need to have a few more anime nights before that happens.”

Adrien flushed with joy and Ladybug watched in shock as his blush spread across his cheeks. Rarely did she see him blush. Even rarer was she the cause of said blush. Cheering proudly and silently to herself, she did a little happy dance in her mind.

He laughed loudly again before jerking his head at the television screen. “Suppose we had better get started again, then?” he asked, a bright smile still fixed on his face.

“Oh, of course,” Ladybug nodded her head seriously. “This is vital in gaining a superhero’s trust after all.”

He snorted, pressing play as he started the show once again. “I need it to be if I’m to reach Chat Noir status.”

Feeling courageous, she buried her head in his shoulder as she couldn’t stop herself from giggling once again. She missed Adrien’s look of awe as he stared down at her. Both of the teens ignored the show for the moment, too absorbed in the other to pay it any mind. Eventually, Ladybug managed to tear herself away from him, attempting to keep her gaze focused on the show.

If she had scooted a little closer to him after their short conversation, well it was too minuscule to detect. And if Adrien had thrown an arm around her shoulder as they continued to watch, well she didn’t need to say anything about that either, especially as pleasant tingles raced down her arms. Before long the two were completely pressed against each other, neither saying a word as they prayed the other one hadn’t noticed.

Just a little longer, Ladybug thought to herself, flicking her gaze up to Adrien quickly. A little longer in his arms and she would be able to find the strength to leave. Swearing to herself, she let herself snuggle just a little more into his side, hoping he wouldn’t notice once again.

[oswincoleman]

2020 Jenna Coleman’s Year in Review, part 2: Acting

Death Be Not Proud (Inside No. 9 series 5 episode 2)

Jenna Coleman secretly filmed this back in early 2019, before she started rehearsing for her theatre production of All My Sons. It took almost a year after that, for the rest of the episodes of the series to be filmed, and released. This remains the only film or TV role of Jenna that was released this year. And although the initial promotion for it appeared to show Jenna in the leading role in the episode, that turned out to just be a ruse to hide the secret of Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith reprising their roles from Psychoville in Inside No. 9, so her total screentime was only about 10 minutes or so. 

It was an interesting episode, though not quite to my tastes, and Jenna played her role brilliantly as always. With the way it ended, it was like a bit of a teaser of what was to come. 

This was her only appearance in film and television this year. Throughout her acting career since 2005, Jenna has always had substantially more screentime every year, than she did this year. The only exceptions being 2010 and 2011. Of course that is mostly not her fault; The Serpent would have been out much earlier without the pandemic. 

The Serpent

After 4 months of intensive filming for The Serpent in the latter half of 2019, Jenna Coleman felt somewhat burnt out, and went on holiday with her parents to the Maldives in January. She described her experience there in a travel article she published later in the year.

Filming for The Serpent finally resumed in February,after a 2 month break, because Tahar Rahim has been working on a film in the meantime. This long break however proved to be quite problematic, as after only 3 weeks of filming, production had to be halted, due to the spread of COVID-19, with just 5 days of filming left to do.

There had already been plans for events to advertise The Serpent, but these were canceled.

Filming for The Serpent finally resumed in August. But unlike what had been planned, of filming the last few scenes in Bangkok and Budapest, they were shot in a manor in the small English town of Tring. A set had been built up there to resemble an apartment in Bangkok. Everyone whk was working on it at the time respected health guidelines, and so managed to safely complete filming in 2 weeks.

So in total, Jenna only spent 5 weeks filming this year, and she wasn’t even required to film on all of those days.

A Separate Peace

But over the course of the year, with the pandemic making filming difficult to impossible, Jenna instead diverted her attention to acting in other ways.

Most notably amongst those was A Separate Peace by Tom Stoppard; a virtual theatre performed by multiple actors over Zoom. It marked a significant improvement over actors merely reading text out loud, was amazing to watch, and was strongly praised as the best alternative to actual theatre currently available.

Jenna played 22 year old nurse Maggie Coates, who tended to, and befriended a patient, played by David Morrissey, who arrived at the hospital without having any medical issue whatsoever.

It was short and poignant, and it was amazing to see Jenna in this role. But info have some criticism about the producers. With minimal promotion for it, the turnout could have been much better. It was announced to be the first in a series of virtual theatre performances like this, and it seemed as though this was sort of a test run, to see whether this was possible at all, to see whether the media liked it, or not. The reaction to it was overwhelmingly positive, with very great reviews praising it’s ability to at least achieve some semblance of theatre despite all the restrictions preventing live theatre performances. It was even praised as among the best of theatre in 2020 (https://www.broadwayworld.com/westend/article/2020-Year-In-Review-Gary-Naylors-Best-of-Theatre-20201207). 

After seeing those reviews, which were shared much more widely than the initial promotion for it, I saw lots of people who either wanted to watch the production, but couldn’t, as it was only shown once, and was not shared by the producers afterwards, or were interested in watching future installments of such virtual theatre performances. But the producers of this virtual theatre performance did not produce any other ones, despite initially announcing that they would. And even though it was understandable at the time, that they were unwilling to share the recording of the performance, as the money from the tickets did go to charity, and they did not want people to know that they could still watch future similar performances without having to pay anything, as they did not make any other similar production, it is perplexing why they never made the recording of this play available. 

Xenoblade Chronicles: Definitive Edition

As the pandemic prevented most types of acting for large parts of the year, Jenna instead turned her attention to several audio performances.

Way back in 2011, Jenna voiced Princess Melia in the English dub of the fantasy role-playing game Xenoblade Chronicles. 10 years after the initial release, Nintendo worked on a new release; Xenoblade Chronicles: Definitive Edition, with updated graphics, gameplay, and a whole new extra storyline, that prominently features Melia. It was released on the 29th of May 2020. 

Since Jenna rose to fame after she originally voiced Melia, the Xenoblade Chronicles fandom thought it very unlikely that Jenna would return to voice Melia again in the new release. But against all odds, she did return. It is unclear when she recorded the new lines for Melia, but I think it was probably in January or February this year, and Jenna has still never commented publicly about this role, or her reprisal of it. 

Though I haven’t played the game, you can watch all the cutscenes of the game here: https://youtu.be/Tsgy1h5x8VU and the phrases Melia says througout the gameplay here: https://youtu.be/l7oDcI8HmI4

Pressures, Residential

On July 12th, Esquire UK released a recording of Jenna Coleman reading the short story “Pressures, Residential” by Philip Hensher, in support of Unicef UK, as part of the Esquire Summer Fiction Series. It’s a creepy story told brilliantly by Jenna. It’s always lovely to listen to her incredible voice. You can listen to the story here: https://youtu.be/VSpc4H-z40A

The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies

On the 17th of September, the audiobook collection “Beatrix Potter: The Complete Tales” was released, in which Jenna read the story of “The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies”. 

Charlie Waller Virtual Carol Service

On the 7th of December 2020, the Charlie Waller Trust held a virtual Chirstmas carol service, that had been pre-recorded, and was streamed over youtube for those that bought a ticket earlier. As part of the event, Jenna Coleman read an extract of a Christmas carol poem by George Wither. 

Additional Comments

With a lack of projects this year and the last, and with Victoria series 3 not being recieved that well, Jenna unfortunately didn’t win any awards, and wasn’t even nominated for any awards this year. Even though I think she was nominated and won far too few awards for her recent work, she at least had managed to maintain a success of several award nominations, and at least one win every year since 2016. 

2020 has also been the first year of her acting career, since 2005, in which she didn’t officially get announced to have been cast in a new film or TV role, or had the certainty of continuing to play a role that she had already played, in the next year. 

Even though Jenna Coleman was involved in many different projects this year, overall, she did not have any work to do for the vast majority of this year. With the TV and film industry being shut down or at least massively reduced for large parts of the year, there might not have been that many roles for her to audition for. We know that Jenna went on two holidays, and she had shared a bit of what she got up to during lockdown in this article: https://www.harpersbazaar.com/uk/fashion/fashion-news/g32374333/self-isolate-with-jenna-coleman/ But for the most part, it remains somewhat unclear what she did this year. We know she kept up French lessons for The Serpent, she did some gardening, possibly attended some photography courses, and possibly tried her hand at painting. She revealed all of that in May, and hasn’t talked about what she did with her time since then. 

There is a possibility that she had been working on renovating her new house in the Cotswolds for some time this year. And there is also the possibility of her having already started filming work for her secret new project; after all it remains unclear where she was during her latest Galaxycon Q&A session. 

Overall, this year has not been great for Jenna from an acting perspective. But 2021 will definitely be better! The Serpent airs on January on BBC, and will be released on Netlix sometime later that year. And then there’s also Jenna’s secret new project. Depending on what it is, we might even see that come out towards the end of 2021. 

[thirtysomethingloser92]

Chapter 1.

Summary: After being removed from his own time, Agent Daniel Sousa finds himself in 2020 lost, alone and vulnerable. You, an Avenger, find yourself face to face with Director Coulson and Agent May begging you to help another man out of time. This time however, instead of a super soldier, you meet an average man haunted by war and a time he once knew.   Pairings: Daniel Sousa x Reader.

You loved the mornings.

You truly did. You loved being awake before everyone else, the stillness of the cold air outside, a chance to reflect towards the day ahead. Almost every morning you could be found by the compound lake watching as the mist dusted itself off the top of the water with a hot cup of coffee in your hand and headphones in your ears. Once upon a time, you would be joined by the blonde super soldier you had helped adapt years earlier, a tight shirt covering his chest and a drink bottle in his hand. The mornings would be filled with laughter and joking as you both prepared for the day head. These days however, the years after the accords and the dismantling of the Avengers, you found yourself longing for those days with your friends in front of the television or training with the most deadliest assassins in the world.

You missed your friends.

"Good morning Audrey," You smiled at the young brunette woman who was currently leaning against her door frame flicking through her mail, "How are you today?"

The young girls brown eyes lit up as she gave you a wide smile. Audrey, last name unknown because she never told you or you never bothered to really ask, was your unusually quiet neighbor who occasionally made her presence known by knocking on your door and coming in for a cup of tea, usually talking about her recently deceased grandparents or her family.

"I'm great. Would be better if I stopped getting bills but hey, that's capitalism for you," She laughed as she placed the envelopes in her back pocket, "Oh! I almost forgot to mention, your uncle and his girlfriend are visiting. They asked me to let them in earlier and I've seen them come in and out of your apartment before so I hope you don't mind,"

Your mouth fell open slightly, "Erm sure, thanks Audrey. Next time could you call me though?"

The young woman nodded, "Absolutely, I'm so sorry,"

You nodded and turned to your door, "It's fine honestly. I trust him with my life. Just next time let me know there's people in my apartment," You grinned as you pushed the front door open, giving the young woman a small wave as you entered your apartment and closed the door.

Throwing your bag down on the ground you made your way through the hall and into the living room where you saw your long time friend and mentor Phil Coulson,  Agent Melinda May and a dark haired brown eyed man sitting next to them with his hand gripping the golden handle of a walking stick.

"A phone call wouldn't go amiss every now and again," You smiled as Phil stood up and embraced you in a hug. Phil Coulson was the man who vouched for you, who gave you a second chance when SHIELD deemed your powers too unstable. He was the man who stood by your decisions and guided you in a way that a father could. When you found yourself in the Treskellion all those years ago, so young and afraid, you remember his gentle words, the way he didn't treat you like an agent, but as a human. Not a freak like you had believed yourself to be. But as an average teenager.

"We've been out of range," Phil explained, he turned to Melinda, "You remember Agent May?" The Asian woman gave you a nod and a small smile, "And this is Daniel Sousa,"

Your eyes landed on the man who gave you a curt nod by decidedly stayed silent, "Sousa? I recognize that name. SSR later SHIELD. Died in 1955,"

Phil nodded, "That's right,"

"So uh, not to be rude. Why is he in my lounge room, in the year 2020?"

Phil offered you a seat and slid a manila file across the table to you. Flicking it open, you saw a photo of a younger version of the man out of time among numerous pages of his background.

"He had to die. Officially in 1955," Phil began, "But we couldn't let a good man die,"

"So you kidnapped him?"

A small smile crossed Daniel's face.

"I wouldn't say kidnap. We preserved a timeline," Phil clarified, "Look, I remember how well you got Steve Rogers to adapt to the 21st century. We were wondering if you could do the same for Agent Sousa. Get him up to date about what he missed. Help him get comfortable,"

You turned to look at Daniel who suddenly spoke up, "He's also in the room," You could see that he was trying to keep his face void of emotion, but his eyes showed that he was confused, somewhat scared of this new time. Of his future. "Is no one going to ask what I want?"

You nodded in agreement, "Okay then Agent Sousa. What would you like?"

"To go home. But since that's obviously off the table," He looked at Phil, then to Melinda, and finally to you, determination suddenly set in his eyes, "I'll stay. If I'm not intruding on you and your life,"

You shrugged, "I'm an Avenger, my life's always intruded on so it doesn't bother me," A small smile crossed your face, "This is going to be hard, but I've read about you. You're gonna be okay,"

<>

You made your way down the hallway and into the spare room with your arms filled with a large blanket and pillow, your new roommate limping behind you. After rejecting his help numerous time, he had finally become silent as the walls echoed around you. "I haven't really had a chance to clean this room up so you  might need to open a window or something tomorrow once it warms up a bit," You explained, turning on the large overhead light and throwing the blanket and pillow on the bed. You quickly moved around the room tidying it up and making the bed, "I wasn't really expecting a new roommate so soon after the last one moved out so I apologize if you find any woman's clothes under the bed or in the wardrobe. Just let me know and I'll give them to my friend when I see her next," Placing your hands on your hips, you gave Daniel a smile which quickly dropped once you saw the dejected look on his face.

"What do I do now?" He asked you, sitting ion the edge and looking down at the wooden floor, you watched as he swallowed deeply, "I've been to war, I came home and I've never felt as lost as I do now,".

You sat down next to him, being sure to keep your distance, "72 hours ago you were in 1955. You're 65 years in the future. It's a pretty hard pill to swallow. There's no manual on how to deal with that. When was the last time you slept? Maybe that's your first step,"

"Properly? 1955,"

You stood up and made your way to the door, "I have something that might help. A Stark concoction,"

"Howard?"

"Howard died in 1991. Tony's his son. Egotistic, but his hearts in a good place. I'll get Agent Coulson to bring over some files about what's happened to your colleagues between 1955 and now," You paused in the doorway, "You're not allergic to anything are you?"

"Not that I know of," He replied picking at the bed cover and glancing around the room.

You gave him another smile and motioned for him to wait a moment before making your way to  your kitchen and opening the medicine cabinet. A clear jar filled with 4 white pills sat in the center, the special concoction that Tony and Doctor Bruce Banner made for you many months earlier. You poured one carefully into your hand before replacing the lid and putting it back in the cupboard.

Gently, you could hear the slight tapping of Daniel's walking stick on the wooden floor as he moved around the room. You poured water into a cup and slowly made your way into the bedroom where you saw him watching the early morning sunrise. "At least that's one thing that will never change. A New York sunrise," He commented lowly.

You held out the pill in the palm of your hand and the water in the other, "The strongest sleeping pill we have. It'll knock you out for a few hours and when you wake up we can start dealing with all this,"

He turned to you and looked down at your hand before shaking his head, "No thank you. I-I'm not comfortable taking that. Thank you for the gesture,"

You gave him as reassuring smile, "It's fine. Ill leave it on the bedside table and if you think you might need it you can take it. Or not," You set the items down on the bedside table and watched as Daniel resumed his position on the edge of the bed.

"If you uh, if you don't mind I'd like to be alone now," He stated.

You nodded and pointed to the drawers, "I think there's a singlet and pajama pants in there from an ex boyfriend somewhere. Feel free to use those. I'm just going to do some housework so feel free to come grab me if you need anything,"

He gave a small nod and you gently closed the door behind you, making your way through the hall and into the living room, you turned on the television and began to clean the dishes on the lounge table.

A few hours later after the work was done, you slowly made your way down the hall and knocked gently on Daniel's door. Upon not hearing an answer you pushed it open and poked your head inside. Your heart broke at what you saw. Daniel was laying stomach down on top of the covers, his walking stick laying abandoned on the floor, dried tear trails down  his face, the white pill on the bedside was gone and the water half empty.

You gave a sad smile and realized that helping Daniel Sousa was going to be absolutely nothing like helping Steve Rogers.

tags:

iamwarrenspeace

  jcc04220

  pancakefancake

  buckywhitewolfbarnes

  jutima55

   thegirlwithoutaname87

 @cleocc

​  

nalabarnes1031

  ovemesomepietro

   joyfullyswimmingface

  astudyoftimeywimeystuff

   nikey-no-likey

  maraudersandco

[fanaticfangirl001]

Like Real People Do Ch 4: Gadget

Author's note: Gadget is a character from The Disney Rescue Rangers show,Rocky Graziano is a boxer from the 40s, from Brooklyn. And in the United States there currently is no such thing as a conditional pardon, so I headcanon that it was specifically made for Bucky and other super powered individuals

Taglist: @p3nny4urth0ught5, @kissofvenom922

(I really thought that this wouldn't fit, I guess they fixed the word limit)

“Buck. Are you watching this?” Winnie asks looking away from the television

“I am.” Bucky says shortly.

“You okay?” Winnie asks as the interview with Good Morning America begins.

“No.” Bucky answers flatly.

“I found out where the Flag smashers are.” Winnie changes the subject.

“Good” Bucky answers, his eyes not looking away from his television screen.

“So did Sam.” Winnie adds.

“I’m not calling him.” Bucky thinks about throwing something,anything at the tv but stops himself.

“You don’t have to. I leave Fri-tomorrow to check it out.” Winnie informs him.

“You can’t go alone.” Bucky shakes his head even if she can’t see him through the phone.

“I’m not alone.” Winnie packs her bag.

“If you’re right and these are super soldiers, you and Sam won’t be enough to take them.” Bucky insists.

“Then grab your oil can and let’s go.” Winnie laughs.

“We need a plan,”Bucky says.

“What we do have is a plane, a former avenger, a man with a vibranium arm, that’s you, and a stunning tech whiz, that’s me.” Winnie says.

“That will have to be enough, I guess.” Bucky sighs.

“ Meet me at the bus station, four in the morning tomorrow.”Winnie hangs up.

Winnie and Bucky stand at the lower part of the military complex.

“Your guy better be here.” Bucky says.

“He is.”Winnie points up towards Joaquin and Sam.

Bucky sighs.

“Shouldn’t have given up the shield.” Bucky walks over.

Winnie follows and holds him by the shoulder. “Easy Buck.”

“Good to see you too, Buck.” Sam scoffs.

“This is wrong.” Bucky starts.

“Hey hey, look, I’m working, all right. So all this is gonna have to wait.” Sam stops him.

“You didn’t know that was gonna happen.” Bucky asks.

“It was pretty obvious.” Winnie interjects.

“Who are you?”- Sam looks at Winnie.

“I’m Winnie, Ex- shield and a hacker friend of Buck’s.” Winnie answers.

“Anyway, no of course I didn’t know that was gonna happen.” Sam adds. “ You think it didn’t break my heart to see them march him out there, and call him the new Captain America.”

“Steve didn’t want this.” Bucky says bluntly.

“Oh my god. What do you want me to do? Call America and tell them I changed my mind. Huh.”Sam replies.

“You had no right to give up the shield.” Bucky says sternly.

“Buck.” Winnie warns.

“Hey, this is what you're not gonna do. You’re not gonna come here in your overextended life and tell me about my rights. It’s over, Bucky. Besides I have bigger things to deal with now.” - Sam walks away with Bucky and Winnie following.

“The Flagsmashers, we know.”- Winnie explains.

“How do you know?” Sam asks.

“I hacked Joaquin’s phone and your drone, Green Sparrow.” Winnie says.

“Red Wing.” Sam corrects.

“Green, red it’s the same to me.” Winnie shrugs.

“I don’t trust red wing.” - Bucky adds.

“You don’t have to trust Redwing, But I’m gonna go see if he’s right. Cause I have a feeling they might be part of the Big Three.” Sam puts on his goggles.

“Big three?”Bucky asks.

“Androids, Aliens, and Wizards.” -Sam replies.

“That’s not a thing.” Bucky says definitively.

“That’s definitely a thing.” Sam argues.

“No.” Bucky argues back.

“Everytime we fight, it’s one of the three.” Sam readies his wings.

“Who are you fighting now, Gandalf?” Bucky scoffs.

“How do you know about Gandalf?”- Sam questions confused.

“I read the Hobbit in 1937 when it first came out.” Bucky says.

“Old man flex but okay.” Winnie adds.

“So you see my point.”

“No I don’t. There are no wizards.”

“Doctor Strange.”

“Is a sorcerer.”

“A sorcerer is a wizard without a hat.”

“You know I thought he was missing something.” Winnie interjects.

“But these guys aren’t magical, they use brute force just like you, the incredibly annoying guy with the staring problem.”

“I’m coming with you.” Bucky insists walking towards the plane.

“Me too.”- Winnie follows

“No you’re not.” Sam follows the two of them to the plane.

Winnie taps her rocket boots making sure they are ready for the big jump.

“So you made those?” Joaquin asks.

“Yeah, a couple of other things too. These coveralls, completely bulletproof, the kevlar long sleeve under shirt also helps. Steel whip, taser bombs, black out bombs, dagger boomerangs.” Winnie tries not to brag.

“And Shield never used any of it.” Joaquin asks, confused.

“Yeah, that’s how the cookie crumbled.” Winnie trails off

Bucky is glaring at Joaquin. He has no reason to dislike the guy, just he’s too friendly with Winnie.

“One minute to drop off, Sam.” Joaquin reminds.

Sam and Bucky are now staring at each other.

Winnie sitting beside Bucky.

“So what’s our plan?” Bucky asks.

Sam ignores him.

“Great no plan.” Bucky says to himself.

“Yeah we’re winging it.” - Winnie nudges Sam to receive no reaction.

“ Thirty seconds.” Joaquin warns.

“Enjoy your ride, Buck.” Sam says.

“No, you can’t call me that.”

“Why not? That’s what Steve called you.” Sam reasons.

“Steve knew me longer and Steve had a plan.” - Bucky adds.

“Fifteen seconds to drop.” Joaquin comes back again.

“I have a plan.”- Sam readies himself to jump.

“Really. What is it?” Bucky asks.

Sam jumps out of the plane.

“Nice plan.” Winnie adds getting herself together to jump.

“Great, where’s the chute?”- Bucky asks Joaquin.

“We’re at 200 feet. It’s too low for a chute.” - Joaquin answers looking out of the plane.

“I don’t need it anyway.” Bucky shrugs and jumps.

“Bye Joaquin.” Winnie yells before jumping out with her rocket boots.

Winnie glides through the air gracefully landing on her feet beside Bucky who fell and screamed.

Redwing hums beside Bucky.

“You alright, Buck.” Winnie taps her boots back to normal.

“Yeah.” Bucky lays on the ground.

“I have all that on camera, you know that right.” Sam's voice comes from Redwing.

“Get out of my face, Sam, or I’ll break it.” Bucky growls.

“So Sam, about Red Wing…” Winnie starts.

“No.” Sam cuts her off.

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.” Winnie

“Bucky keep Gadget over there away from Red Wing.” Sam says.

“Fine.” Winnie huffs.

“Head north you two, come on.” Sam is outside the warehouse.

Bucky and Winnie run up to the warehouse.

Red Wing flies above Bucky

“Oh-ho-ho. Don’t hurt him.”Sam laughs at Bucky swatting at the drone.

“I think he’s cool.” Winnie shrugs.

“You’re doing the staring thing again.They’re in there”- Sam reminds Bucky.

“Where’s the guy?” - Bucky peaks over.

“I don’t know.” Sam watches.

“There has to be more of them.”Winnie gets a look for herself.

“I think they’re smuggling weapons though.” Sam gestures towards the crates.

“But if they are super soldiers, then why do they need to smuggle weapons. They’re the weapon.” Winnie interjects.

“I think Sam could be right. Only one way to find out.” Bucky adds.

“Hold up.” Winnie grabs him.

“I see a clear path. I say we take it.” Bucky tells the two.

“We’re not assassins.” Sam stops Bucky.

“I’ll see you inside or not.” Bucky pushes him off.

“Hey come on man, I’m just messing with you. Come back.” Sam whispers.

Winnie follows Bucky stealthily.

“Look at him all stealthy.” Sam laughs. “ A little time in Wakanda and you come out White Panther.”

“It’s actually White Wolf.” Bucky corrects.

“Huh?”

“Not to interrupt the banter, but we have something kind of important over there.” Winnie interrupts.

“We’re inside. Therefore, way ahead of you. Not great but doable.” Bucky says to Sam.

Sam stealthily and quickly is beside the two.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“No, wait.” Sam grabs him

“I got a vibranium arm. I can take them.”

“And I can fly. Who gives a shit? Wait.” Sam watches the guys.

“Sam’s right, like I said earlier there has to be more.” Winnie adds.

“I want to see where they're going.”Sam and Winnie watch the guys grab crates and load them into a truck.

“There’s two people.” Bucky says.

“You only see two.”

“That’s what I saw.” Bucky replies.

“Let's see what Red Wing sees.” Sam taps on his arm controller.

“All right.”Bucky sighs.

“You two bicker like an old married couple.” Winnie scoffs.

“How many people do you see now? One two...Oh here it comes again.” Sam shows the two of them.

“Four five” Bucky counts.

“Yeah five yeah.” Sam says.

“So they’re strong. Whatever.” Bucky scoffs.

“Too strong…” Winnie adds “ I was right.”

“All right let’s go.” Bucky

“Wait.” Sam

A small oil can clatters when it hits the ground.

“Shit.” The three hide behind the shelves.

“There’s an eighth person. I think they have a hostage.” Sam sees through Redwing.

Bucky runs, Sam flies with his wings. Winnie taps her boots and goes to rocket boots. She’s in the air with Sam. The wind flies through her hair. She instantly feels like her old self again, the Shield badass inventor and agent.

Bucky is in the truck with the hostage. He opens the truck and climbs in.

“Hi” - Bucky says to a small looking girl.

“Bucky, talk to me. What’s going on?” Sam asks.

“You okay.” Winnie’s voice through Red Wing.

���Found the hostage.”- Bucky says to Sam then turns towards the girl“ You okay?”

Girl smiles and kicks Bucky out of the truck, against the next truck.

“Shit” Bucky groans.

The girl puts on the mask. Bucky is grabbed by the masked people and taken to the top of the truck. Red Wing shows up to fight and is grabbed by the girl and broken.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,”Bucky says while being captured.

Sam lands on the truck and kicks the girl.

“Glad of you to join the fight Sam.” Bucky is being held by two guys.

Winnie drops onto the truck and grabs a guy by the arm with her whip, she’s nearly thrown off the truck with her own whip until she flies around with it and kicks the guy From above two new people join the fight and the shield is involved. A helicopter delivers another guy kicking people off the truck.

“Sam. John Walker, Captain America” The new man introduces himself.

“Lemar Hoskins.” The man beside him introduces.

“Looks like you guys could use some help.” John adds.

“A little less talking, more punching.” Winnie yells as she’s thrown off the truck.

She grabs the other truck with the side of her whip and throws herself into the grass.

Bucky is hanging upside down onto the bottom half of the truck.

“That little girl kicked your ass.” Sam reminds.

“Ahh!” Bucky yells as he tries to slow down the trucks with his arm.

Sam weaves through the wheels of the truck and tackles Bucky onto the grass, both of them rolling into a field of wildflowers.

Winnie is there wearing a flower crown cleaning herself off with a medicated wipe.

“Could have used that shield.” Bucky adds.

“Get off of me.” Sam pushes Bucky off of him.

“Oh uh Sam…” Winnie starts.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Sam interrupts.

“Okay.” Winnie grabs her book bag and reattaches it to her coveralls.

“Those were all Super Soldiers, Sam.”

“I know.” Sam nods. “You’re welcome by the way.”

“I think we did pretty good.” Winnie says “ All things considered. No one died.”

The three of them walk along the small stretch of backwoods.

“Sorry about Red Wing.” Bucky breaks the silence.

“No you’re not.” Sam deflects.

“About Red Wing I..” Winnie trails off.

“I know you wanted to mess with him.The answer is still no.” Sam

“I grabbed what was left of him. No man left behind.” Winnie taps her backpack.

“Thanks.” Sam says to Winnie,then turns to Bucky “What’s going on in that big cyborg brain of yours?”

“It’s computing.” Bucky replies sarcastically.

“I can actually see it. I can see the gears turning.Oh they’re malfunctioning, shutting down, Yep, they’re on fire.” Sam goes along with it.

“We gotta figure out where the serum is coming from.” Bucky says finally.

“And how in the hell after 80 years are there eight Super Soldiers runnin’ loose?Sam adds.

“They are not very selective in who they give the serum to.” Winnie adds “ I mean the red head looks like a kid.”

The car pulls up and honks beside them.

“So that didn’t go as planned, huh?” John Walker smiles at them.

The trio ignore him.

“Look at least we know what we're up against.” John Walker says “ And we’re pretty sure it’s one of the big three.”

“Aliens, Androids, or wizards.”

“Pretty sure.”

“There’s no such thing as wizards.” Bucky says firmly.

“Then it’s aliens, or androids.” John Walker

“Or Super Soldiers.” Sam adds.

“Shit. Super Soldiers,for real.” Lemar asks.

“Yeah.” The trio nod.

“Then we gotta work together.”

“That’s not happening.” Bucky shakes his head.

“I think we stand a much better chance if we all just..” John insists.

“Just cause you carry that shield, it doesn’t mean you’re Captain America.” Bucky blurts out.

“Look I’ve done the work.” Walker insists.

“No you haven’t.” Winnie argues.

“Who are you?” Walker looks at Winnie up and down.

“Winnie, ex-shield operative. I keep a low profile but you haven’t. Being paraded on television, kissing senator’s hands and shaking babies,” Winnie mocks.

“You ever jump on top of a grenade?” Bucky asks.

“Yeah actually I have. Four times. It’s this thing I do with my helmet.Anyway it’s twenty miles to the airport, do you guys want a ride. Guys, Gary stop, get in.” John Walker says.

The trio looks at each other and gets in the car.

“Okay so eight super soldiers on a bulk supply run.” John starts trying to theorize.

“They say they're trying to get things like they were during the Blip. Maybe they’re trying to help.” Sam answers.

“Funny way of showing it.” Bucky adds.

“That serum doesn’t have the best track record. No offense. “John says.

“Buck’s problem wasn’t the serum.” Winnie interjects.

“Winnie, he didn’t mean.”Bucky puts a hand on her shoulder.

“You got a good woman by your side.” John nods.

“We’re not.” Winnie adds.

“Oh.” John trails off.

“We need to figure out where they’re going, How did you track them here?” Sam asks Lemar.

“We didn’t track them. We tracked you, uh through Red Wing.” Lemar answers.

“You hacked my tech?” Sam adds.

“It’s not exactly hacking. It’s government property. Kind of the government.” John.

“More like you’re government property.” Winnie rolls her eyes.

“I’m not. Anyway does he always stare like that?” John asks about Bucky’s staring.

“You get used to it.” Sam shrugs.

“You know things have gotten kind of uh” John trails off.

“Chaotic.” Lemar finishes.

“Yeah the GRC is doing the best they can to get things up and running smoothly, post Blip.” John Walker explains.

“Reactivating citizenship, social security, health care. Managing resources for refugees who were displaced by the return.” Lemar adds.

“The Global Repatriation Council does that. I get that. So why exactly are you two here.” Sam

“Intimidation, Occupation, Why send a whole army when you can get by with two.” Winnie answers darkly.

“No, They provide the resources, we keep things stable.” Lemar answers.

“Violent revolutionaries aren’t good for anyone’s cause.” John adds.

“Usually said by people with all the resources.”Sam argues.

“We got a lot of resources. If you guys joined up with us, we could..” John insists on a team up.

“No.” Bucky adds bluntly.

“I got mad respect for y’all but you were getting your asses kicked till we showed up.” Lemar adds.

“You know they fought a genocidal alien right?” Winnie asks. “He was purple, snapped everyone away.”

“Who are you?” Bucky asks, shifting his gaze to Lamar.

“Lemar Hoskins.” Lamar says.

“Look I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter in tactical gear, I need a lot more than Lemar Hoskin.” Sam scoffs.

“I’m Battlestar, John’s partner.” Lemar adds.

“Battlestar, Stop the Car!” Bucky calls out.

“Look I get it.” John starts.

Bucky gets out of the car shaking his head.

“And I’m not trying to be Steve.I’m not trying to replace Steve.I’m just trying to be the best Captain America I can be.” John adds to Sam and Winnie.

“One thing, don’t call him Bucky, you haven’t earned it. For you it’s James. Two, the three of us know what we’re doing. There’s a lot out there John, that you’ve never seen.” Winnie says harshly.

“I think I know what I’m doing. And It’d be a whole lot easier if I had Cap’s wingmen on my side.” John adds.

Sam scoffs leaving the car,“ It’s always that last line.”

“This is my que.” Winnie announces and starts to climb off.

“You know, Winnie, I could get you a nice desk job, with the CIA if you walk away from them.” John informs.

“John, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I don’t trust the government.” Winnie laughs.

“Why not?” John leans on the shield.

“A lot of reasons, but right now you’re one of them.” Winnie deflects.

“I’m a good old boy from Georgia.” John explains.

“And I’m from Brooklyn, but you know what, you’re right. I should be a little more welcoming.” Winnie has an idea about how she’s going to get that blood sample.

“You could start with a smile.” John suggests.

“Give you a nice warm Brooklyn welcome.” Winnie leans on the car as she grins at him.

“That’s better.” John smiles back at her.

Winnie slugs John straight to the nose.

Lemar pulls John away from the edge of the car. “Go Gary Go!”

Winnie turns back to see Sam smirking with his arm crossed and Bucky is staring at her.

She puts the ring in a small plastic bag.

“You throw a good punch, Gadget.” Sam

“Thanks.” Winnie adds “ We should get to walking.”

“Bucky, are you coming?” Sam asks.

“Yeah.” Bucky walks on the right side of Winnie with Sam on her left.

“I’d do it again.” Winnie puts her fists up.

“Easy, Graziano.” Bucky pats her shoulder.

“I can do this all day.” Winnie starts shadow boxing as they’re walking.

Sam’s laughing at her bob and weaving.

Bucky stares at Winnie and thinks, Man Steve would’ve liked her a lot. He’d probably help her punch John even though she didn’t need any help. He wouldn’t understand the constant technology but would love to see her sketchbook. They’d probably draw together.

The three are picked up at the airfield. Bucky sits in the middle and Sam off to the side laying down. Winnie sits on the other side of Bucky.

“You alright?” Sam asks.

Bucky nods.

“ So any ideas on where to go now?” Winnie asks.

“Let’s take the shield, Sam. Let’s take the shield and do this ourselves.” -Bucky says gruffly.

“I like that idea.” Winnie adds.

“We can’t just run up on the man, beat him up, and take it.” Sam shakes his head.

“I mean you could.It’s doable.” Winnie nods.

“Do you remember the last time we stole it?” Sam asks.

“Maybe.” - Bucky says.

“I’ll help you in case you forgot. Sharon was branded an enemy of the State, and Steve and I were on the run for two years. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to live the rest of my life la vida loca” Sam reminds.

Winnie looks off when Sam mentions Sharon.

“We just got our asses handed to us by super soldiers and we got nothing.” Sam continues.

“Not entirely true. There is someone you should meet.” Bucky says.

When the plane lands in Maryland Bucky looks over towards Winnie.

“You okay?” Bucky

“Yeah.” Winnie says.

“So who’s this guy, you want me to meet.” Sam asks.

“You’ll see.” Bucky

The plane lands near Baltimore, Maryland.

Two kids playing as Bucky, Sam, and Winnie pass them.

“Hey it’s Black Falcon. What up?” The first kid says.

“Just Falcon, kid.” Sam corrects.

“No, my daddy told me it’s Black Falcon.” - The first kid argues.

“Is it because I’m black and I’m the Falcon.” Sam continues.

“Bucky, are you sure this is a good idea?” Winnie asks Bucky as Sam is busy with the kids.

“Yes.” Bucky nods.

“It’s just the shield file says…” Winnie trails off.

“You don’t have to go in.” Bucky reminds.

“Great, I’ll call Joaquin, I have a favor to ask him.” Winnie thinks back to her punching John and her ring.

“Well technically I mean yes.” The first kid says to Sam.

“So are you like black kid?” Sam asks laughing.

The first kid sighs.

“I got him, right.” Sam laughs.

Bucky and Sam knock on the door. Winnie is standing on the driveway near the road.

Winnie sees the two not getting in at first and starts to call Joaquin.

“Pick up..” She says softly.

“Hey, Winnie the pooh.” Joaquin answers.

“Can I get a different nickname?”- Winnie asks.

“Breech, or Rocky.” - Joaquin answers.

“Oh so you heard about me punching John.”Winnie sighs.

“Yeah, not a lot of people are happy with that, but it’s okay by me.” Joaquin says simply.

“Why?”

“You were defending Bucky, or at least that’s what John told everyone.”

“He what?”

“ He said that you were defending your boyfriend’s honor, which now that I think about it makes sense, he was glaring at me all throughout the drop off.”

“Buck isn’t my boyfriend.”

“You call him Buck.”

“Yeah, if I were to date someone, I’d call them something more affectionate than Buck.”

“Anyway, what did you need?”

“I don’t trust John.”

“Obviously.”

“Those tests from MIT were off the charts. There has to be something wrong with him.”

“I’d need blood to run some tests on.”

“Is dried okay?”

“Yeah, so that’s actually why you punched him. To collect a sample.”

“That and he has a very punchable face.”

“Where are you right now?”

“Uh Baltimore,why?”

“How good are you at scrambling a police car's computer.”

“I’ve done it a couple times, why?” Winnie

“There’s a warrant out for Bucky.”

“What did he do?”

“It’s more about what he didn’t do.”

“Therapy.” Winnie sighs.

“Yeah, part of his pardon.”

“Conditional pardons aren’t even part of the Federal process, that was something made up just for Bucky.”

“Yeah, it’s bull shit, just stay out of trouble, Rocky.”

“I’ll try.” Winnie hangs up.

Sam and Bucky are quickly out of the house and arguing.

“Sam” Bucky says

“Why didn’t you tell me about Isaiah? How could nobody bring him up?”Sam asks, getting louder.

“I see this went well.” Winnie follows the two out, closing the gate behind them.

“I asked you a question, Bucky.”Sam continues.

“I know.” Bucky ignores the first question.

“Steve didn’t know about him.” Sam asks.

“He didn’t. I didn’t tell him.”Bucky answers.

“Most of Shield never knew, either. Coverup stories run deep.” Winnie adds.

“So you’re telling me that there was a black Super Soldier decades ago and nobody knew about it!” Sam says loudly.

People are starting to watch. Sirens pull up to the three.

“Hey!” An Officer yells getting out of his car.

“What’s up?” Sam asks.

“Is there a problem here?- Officer asks.

“No we’re just talking.” -Sam answers.

“We’re fine.” - Bucky answers.

“Young lady, are you okay?” Officer asks Winnie.

“Yeah, I’m good. You can go back to the Wee Woo Wagon.” Winnie pulls out her phone to record this.

“Can I see your ID?” Officier asks Sam

“I don’t have an ID, why?”

“Do you have a reason to be asking?” Winnie asks.

“Okay sir just calm down.”

“I am calm. What do you want? We’re just talking.”

“Just give him your ID.” Bucky says.

“James, stop talking.” Winnie warns.

“No I’m not giving him shit. We’re just talking.”

“Is he bothering you?” Officer asks Bucky again.

“Do you know who he is?” Bucky gestures towards Sam.

Second officer comes up and whispers “Hey these guys are Avengers.”

“Oh god I’m so sorry Mr.Wilson. I didn’t recognize you without the goggles.wait here” The Officer goes back to his car.

“I didn’t tell anyone because he had already been through enough.” Bucky says softly to Sam.

“Mr.Barnes.” The officer comes back. “There’s a warrant out of your arrest.”

“Shit.” Winnie starts typing on her phone to mess with the computer’s in the police cars.

“The president pardoned him for all that.” Sam defends Bucky.

“Not for that. You missed your court-mandated therapy.It’s like missing a check in with you PO. Sorry Mr. Barnes, you’re under arrest.” He handcuffs Bucky and walks him to the police car.

Bucky is put into the back of the police car, he can see the computer malfunctioning and can’t help but to smile a little. It starts to short circuit.

“So let’s go to jail.” Winnie starts walking.

“Wait, did you know?” Sam follows her.

“Know about Isiah, yes but I wasn’t supposed to. I wrote to him, and asked if I could help him” Winnie explains then stops.

“And.” Sam

“He asked me to leave him alone. So I did.” Winnie ends the story.

“Not Isiah, did you know about Sharon?” Sam asks as the two walk out of the neighborhood.

“Uh no.” Winnie answers shortly.

“Were you two close?” Sam asks.

“Yeah.” Winnie nods.

“Do you have her number?”

“No, I deleted it a few days ago.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” Winnie then asks “Do you have any money to bail Buck out.”

“No, what about you?” Sam turns his pockets out.

“Fifty bucks and a coupon for frozen yogurt.” Winnie shakes her head “Not even enough for a good bribe.”

“What did you talk to Joaquin about?”

“I don’t trust John.”

“Same here.”

“I asked Joaquin if he could test John’s blood for anything irregular.”

“You think he has some serum in him.”

“Well not enough to make a difference, we got our asses kicked.”

The conversation stops.

“For real though, what’s up with you and Bucky?” Sam breaks the silence.

“Coworkers, I guess. I did intel so he could make his amends. He texts me so I guess we're friends.” Winnie shrugs.

“He lets you call him Buck.” Sam reminds.

“Yeah.” Winnie shrugs again.

“That’s pretty big.”

“Is it?” Winnie asks.

“Yeah that was Steve’s thing.”

“What happened to Steve, he never told me.” Winnie asks.

“ The truth or what we tell civilians.”

“The truth.” Winnie clairfies.

“He went back in time, and created a different reality for himself.”

“He abandoned Buck.”

“I’m sure he had his reasons.”

“I’m not so sure I would have liked Steve, if he can just abandon his friends.”

Sam and Winnie make it to the jail and are waiting in a large room with couches and an old coffee maker.

“I’ve heard a lot about you Sam. I’m Dr. Raynor, Bucky’s therapist.” Dr. Raynor shakes Sam’s hand.

Winnie looks up at the women speaking.

“You must be W, nice to meet you.” She adds.

“Thank you for getting him out.” Sam shakes her hand.

“That wasn’t me.” Dr. Raynor says.

“Christina!” John Walker calls out walking down the hallway.

“You gotta be kidding me. You know him.”

“Yeah, we did some field ops back in the day.”

“I heard you were working with Bucky, so I thought I’d step in. Bucky’s not going to be following a strict schedule any longer.”

“We haven’t finished our work. Who authorized this?” - Dr. Raynor asks.

“Um.” John gestures towards himself.

Winnie stays seated near Sam ignoring John, with the small bandage over his nose.

“He’s too valuable an assent to have tied up. Just do whatever you got to do with him, then send him off to me. Got some unfinished business me and him, you too, Wilson. I’ll be outside.” John explains.

Winnie sits up when she hears that.

“James, condition of your release session now, You too, Sam.” Dr.Raynor says.

“That’s okay I’ll be out here with…” Sam trails off.

“That wasn’t a request.” Dr. Raynor walks off to the room.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Gadget.” Sam says to Winnie before following Dr. Raynor.

“You and Buck are taking all the stupid with you.” Winnie stands up and makes herself a coffee at a dingy machine inside of a cheap styrofoam cup.

She goes outside with it.

“Winnie.” -John says sharply.

“John.” - Winnie replies. “ Here.” she holds the coffee out to him as a peace offering.

“What did you do to it?” John asks looking in the cup.

“A little sugar, little cream.” Winnie answers, the cup of coffee looks like a very light shade of brown.

“No poison.”

“No poison, unless you hate cheap coffee.”

“Thanks.” John takes a sip.

“We got off on the wrong foot.” Winnie starts.

“The wrong foot that ended with you punching me.”

“Yeah sorry about that. Would you like a coupon for free frozen yogurt.”

“No.”

“Listen, I care about Buck.”

“You showed me that when you broke my nose.”

“Again, sorry, I just wanted to talk to you about what you said earlier.” Winnie

“I’m not helping you get a CIA job.”

“No not that. You called Buck an asset.”

“He is one.”

“I just want to make sure he keeps his autonomy, and isn’t treated like a weapon.”

“And he will, I promise.” John adds “ Regardless of what you are or aren’t to Buck, he has a good woman by his side.”

“You can’t call him Buck, you haven’t earned it.”

“Getting him out of jail isn’t enough.”

“No.”

“Listen, you’re trying my patience. I’m just trying here, being the best Captain. I can be.”

“Speaking condescendingly to two Avengers who’ve saved the world from aliens isn’t helping you. You’re out of your element, having Buck and Sam around, dealing with things in ways that you can’t, is more helpful than you know.”

“You don’t know anything about me, and what I can handle.”

“You’re right, I don’t and I don’t mean to annoy you. I’m sorry.”

The conversation goes silent.

“Must be heavy, huh?” Winnie gestures towards the shield.

“Not really.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Do you want to hold it?” John asks.

“Sure.” Winnie answers.

“You’re not going to try to run off with it, are you?” John asks.

“No,but could you take my picture with my phone.”

“Sure.”

Winnie hands John her phone. John hands Winnie the shield. From behind the shield, Winnie takes off a button from her coveralls that has a tracker inside, she attached it to the furthest part of the reinforced leather strap facing the shield so John won’t see it or notice it when he’s holding it. She smiles and John takes the picture. Winnie hands John the shield back and gets her phone back.

Sam and Bucky walk out of the police station, John makes the siren go off to call them over.

“Gentlemen.” John calls out. Winnie stands beside John, leaning against the car. “ Good to see you again.Look if we divide ourselves, we don’t stand a chance, you guys know that.”

“What do you got?” Sam asks.

“The leader’s name is Karli Morgenthau.We’ve been targeting civilians who’ve been helping Karli move from place to place.” John answers.

“They geotag the location then scramble the signal.” Lemar adds.

“ But our satellites have found their symbol popping up in various displaced communities all across Central and Eastern Europe.”

“We think she’s taking the medicine she stole to one of those camps.”

“Well there are hundreds of those all over the planet since the Blip.” Bucky adds “ So I guess you’ll look real hard.”

“Good thing I have 20/20 vision, huh.”

“Where is she now, Walker? Do you know? Bucky asks.

“No we don’t know Bucky.” John answers “It’s only a matter of time before we find out.”

“Time is one thing we don’t have John.” Winnie adds.

“Things are really intense for you, aren’t they Walker?” Bucky asks ruffling John’s feathers.

“Take it easy, Walker’s right. We need to find and stop them.” Sam adds “But you guys have rules of engagement,and all kinds of authorizations you have to get.”

“All that red tape, we just cut through it. The three of us, we’re scissors.” Winnie adds.

“It wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you.” Sam says.

“A word of advice then: Stay the hell out of my way.” John warns before walking away with Lemar.

“You two, don’t worry about them.” Winnie says looking at her phone as the three of them walk down the street.

“He sounded vaguely threatening. Why shouldn’t we worry about John.” Bucky asks.

“Oh I put a tracker on the shield. See how he likes being tracked through his own equipment.” Winnie answers.

“How did you..” Sam trails off.

“Oh I apologize for punching him and then tricked him into it.” Winnie shows Sam the picture of her with the shield. “ He’s not that smart.”

“You had the shield and didn’t run off with it.” Bucky asks.

“Well if you were there I would have tossed it to you. But you had to get yourself a warrant for not going to therapy.”

“You could have scrambled the officer's computer before he arrested me.” Bucky snaps.

“I didn’t know you had a warrant before calling Joaquin. Also if you two weren’t yelling at each other on the street no one would have called the cops.” Winnie snaps back.

“Both of you stop arguing.” Sam says “ We need a plan.”

“Well I know what we have to do.” Bucky “When Isaih said my people.”

“Don’t take that to heart. That’s not what he meant.”

“No he meant Hydra.”

“You think the groups might be connected, through their scientists.” Winnie interjects.

“Not a chance.” Sam says to Bucky.

“Walker doesn’t have any leads.” Bucky shrugs.

“I know where you’re going with this, no.” Sam insists.

“Hear him out.” Winnie texts Joaquin to meet them at a small airport.

“He knows all of Hydra’s secrets.” Bucky “Don’t you remember Siberia?”

“So you’re just going to sit in a room with this guy.” Sam asks doubtful.

“Yes.” Bucky answers hesitantly.

“Never mind, Sam was right. This screams Danger, Will Robinson, Danger.” Winnie agrees with Sam.

After a minute of thinking “Fine, Let’s go see Zemo.” Sam says.

“ Huh, didn’t take that much convincing.” Winnie scoffs following along.

Once at the airfield Winnie looks around for Joaquin.

“Hey Rocky, where’s the sample?” Joaquin asks.

Winnie hands him the bag with the ring.

“I’m gonna need the ring back, but there’s blood and maybe some skin left on it.”

“It’s still pretty bad ass, you broke his nose.” Joaquin

“Yeah, I’m not making it a habit, so call me Gadget.” Winnie says following Sam and Bucky onto the plane to see Zemo.

[so-langdon]

Night of a Lifetime - Michael Langdon x Fem! Reader (Requested)

Summary: (Au) Michael and Y/N have been best friends and roommates for awhile. Y/N has been in love with him for awhile too, but tries dating someone else to get over Michael knowing he’s just a player. But when Michael sees her with someone else, he gets angry.

Warnings: Angst, fuckboy! Michael, jealous! Michael, possessive! dom! Michael, sexual tension, some dirty talk, biting, sexual situations, sensual touching, some choking, strong language

A/N: Finally had some time to write and got this written! @saltyshaggymeme wanted an AU fic of Michael with a “man-bun”, so I added that in of course, so hope you enjoy! Let me know! <3

I haven’t written in over a month, maybe even two, due to being so busy with work and I feel like my writing has already lost so much substance so I apologize if this is shitty.

And I will be posting my Xavier fic about loving his scars sometime next week hopefully!

Tagged!: @hecohansen31 @blakewaterxx @sarahandthejets @michaelsapostle @1-800-bitchcraft  @ccodyfern @rocketgirl2410

(tagged some who i thought may want to read but just ignore if not !! )

The piercing blue eyes of Michael Langdon stare into Y/N’s, baring straight into her soul. Michael’s long layered locks are up in a bun, a few strands framing around his face perfectly, giving him an alluring and intimidatingly handsome appearance. He grins confidently and sultry, causing her heart to flutter, making her want to kiss his soft, full lips already, yearning to satiate the hunger inside of her for him.

But in just the blink of an eye, the vision of Michael in front of her fades away completely, causing Y/N to shake her head a bit and blink a few more times before narrowing her eyes on the actual person in front of her.

Brock, the guy Y/N was currently dating sits beside her on the couch, having had snapped his fingers to get her attention as she clearly zoned out and her mind wandered to a completely different person.

“You okay,” Brock asks as he scoots closer to Y/N on the couch, reaching over for the remote and lifting it up to the television to put the movie they’re watching on pause. “I was talking and you just weren’t saying anything,” he adds.

“Yeah, sorry,” Y/N forces a smile. “I was just, uh, thinking about what movie you’d want to watch next,” she smiles more to seem more sincere and like she wasn’t just fantasizing about another man.

Y/N and Brock had been on a couple of dates before, having met in a shared class last semester. She didn’t really have a thing for him, hence why it was so easy for her mind to drift off to someone else in particular. But Brock was cute, personable and seemingly good enough for distracting Y/N from her mind-consuming thoughts of her actual crush: Her roommate and best friend, Michael Langdon.

She and Michael had known each other a few years, having had bonded and really connected from the get go when meeting at freshman orientation. Michael didn’t have much family, and Y/N was the first person he felt he could really trust, the two forming a strong bond once meeting and getting along together so well.

Though, they had never been anything other than friends. Y/N had grown feelings for Michael over the months, but would never dare dream of telling him, knowing he didn’t feel the same way, especially with knowing how he jumped from girl to girl.

Michael was a bit of a fuckboy for lack of a better term. Michael didn’t date, didn’t have relationships, didn’t have crushes. Just flings, hook-ups, one time things. He was the stereotypical college boy, knowing how popular he was considering his handsome looks and flirty charm. 

Michael was still sweet and friendly nonetheless, but he wasn’t interested in any type of commitment or relationship that didn’t end that night or following morning at the latest. He wasn’t ready to settle down in any way as of yet.

Y/N knowing this about Michael, could never imagine telling him of her feelings, figuring he wouldn’t just reject her, but would complicate their friendship too. Even with Michael being a fuckboy, player, whatever you wanted to call it, he still always made time for Y/N, letting her know she was the most important person in his life. So she’d rather have him in her life as her best friend, than not at all.

Since she knows she and Michael can never be together, she’s decided it’s time to start dating and to stop waiting around and hoping for Michael to admit some kind of love for her when she knew it wasn’t true.

Or so she thinks.

Nevertheless, when Brock asked her out, she went for it, figuring it would be good for her to move on from Michael and to get over her feelings. But, here she was, on the couch of her shared apartment picturing Michael as her date instead of Brock, attempting and failing to hide her feelings about everything.

Of course Y/N knew she didn’t really like Brock and didn’t have an actual interest in dating him. But she wanted to get over her feelings for Michael so despairingly, she was desperate for any kind of distraction and wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

But, even as Brock proceeded with making flirtatious moves, scooting closer to Y/N, and turning her face to his and kissing her, Y/N knew it was going to be more difficult than she thought when all she could think about and picture was Michael instead. 

So she tried to lose herself in the feeling, in any positive feeling when kissing Brock back, trying to push her feelings and desires for Michael aside in the process. 

The two ignore the movie playing on the television, making out on the couch like a couple of high school teenagers who have the house alone for the first time. Y/N lets Brock wrap an arm around her to pull her closer to him, resting his other hand on her exposed knee just below where her dress cuts off, slowly moving it up as he seems to have only one idea in mind she knows. 

Typical college guys.

Y/N doesn’t care and goes along with it, thinking maybe sleeping with Brock will break whatever spell Michael has on her and it’ll be a foot in the right direction of getting over him.

But before she can make a decision or even have another thought about it, the lights in the living room turn on, a voice clearing their throat, and an obvious tension overtaking the atmosphere.

Brock and Y/N pull away from kissing and turn their heads to the other side of the room, seeing who other than Michael standing there.

He looks intimidating, his crystal blue eyes still beautiful but showcasing an unusual rage as he glares lightly. His long, layered hair that reaches past his shoulders is tied up in a well kept bun, always adding a sexiness to him when he has his hair up.

His mouth is frowning, his light pink lips still looking just as soft and plump as normal, but having an irritation to them. Dressed in a casual black t-shirt that’s just tight enough to show enough of his fit physique as he crosses his arms over his broad chest, black jeans to match and Doc Martins. He looks devilishly handsome, practically jaw-dropping, per usual.

“What are you doing here,” Y/N asks, narrowing her eyes and trying to ignore the increase of her heart beat as she looks at him, her body reacting more to Michael’s appearance alone than she was when kissing Brock.

“I live here,” Michael states almost sarcastically, yet still impassive.

Y/N rolls her eyes, pushing her captivated feelings to the side and putting up her own irritated front. “I mean, what are you doing here right now? I thought you were going out to meet up with some people and wouldn’t be home all night?”

“Changed my mind,” Michael answers detached, eyes glancing over to Brock beside her and staring daggers into him practically, causing Brock to look noticeably uncomfortable as he tries to avoid eye contact with Michael.

Y/N sighs, leaning back on the couch and crossing her own arms over her chest. “Well. Don’t mind us then, we’re just watching a movie. So you can go to your room now or whatever and leave.”

“Didn’t look like you were just watching a movie to me,” Michael states angrily as he looks at Y/N, ignoring the second part of her words, glaring a bit more and diverting his eyes from Y/N to Brock again beside her. “Who are you?” He asks a little too harshly

“This is Brock, my date for the evening,” Y/N emphasizes, answering. “Brock, this is Michael, my roommate,” Y/N adds looking from Brock and back to Michael.

“And best friend,” Michael adds irritated.

“Well, um cool,” Brock begins lightly. “Nice to meet you,” he gives a small wave at Michael, smiling a bit in the hopes that whatever tension that’s in the air will dissipate. 

But that fails as only more tension seems to rise as the seconds pass. “Not really. This wasn’t the most comfortable scene to be coming home to,” Michael states as he keeps his arms crossed and looks back over to Y/N. “He needs to be heading out. It’s getting late.”

Y/N narrows her eyes again, Michael’s words catching her off guard. “It’s like ten o’ clock?” She states obviously.

“And? It’s getting late,” Michael repeats, furrowing his eyes and diverts his gaze to Brock. “So, go on and get going,” he says, dropping his arms and gesturing towards the door behind him so he can leave.

“Uhm,” Brock narrows his eyes too, but more confused, unsure if he should actually be leaving or not and looking at Y/N for a clarification.

“He doesn’t have to leave, we’re in the middle of watching a movie still.” Y/N points out, uncrossing her arms as she sits up more.

“What does that have to do with anything? It’s getting late and--”

“It’s Friday night,” Y/N interjects.

“--And I’m going to bed, so I would rather not be disturbed by the movie, or whatever else that might go on,” Michael articulates. 

“Whatever else? Are you serious?” Y/N glares, standing up and finding an anger building inside of her. “That’s so hypocritical.”

Y/N was no stranger to Michael having girls over, whether that be them in the living room on the couch like Y/N and Brock, or in Michael’s room. Y/N never said anything, never interrupting and disturbing whatever they were clearly doing, always letting Michael live his life because they’re adults and this wasn’t high school (and she never wanted to risk showing any jealousy too).

And yet, Michael has the nerve to demand that her date for the evening, whether she actually liked him or not, leave when Michael’s come home now, though he wasn’t even supposed to be home in the first place.

“Hypocritical how?” Michael raises his head, almost amused but trying to act clueless. “I’ve asked nicely for your guest to leave as it is late and I would like to go to bed knowing that my apartment is free of strangers.”

“Brock isn’t a stranger, he’s my guest, and you’re kicking him out very rudely, so that’s bullshit,” Y/N argues.

“Um, hey,” Brock interjects shyly, “I don’t want to get in the middle of.. whatever this is that’s starting, so I’m gonna just, you know, head out,” Brock says awkwardly, interrupting the current conversation and standing up.

“What, you are?” Y/N looks at him with a bit of disappointment. She wasn’t really that upset over Brock wanting to leave, finding more relief in it than anything. But she didn’t want him to leave because it would mean Michael would have won, and then she’d also lose further opportunity in trying to get over her feelings for Michael, or attempts, at least.

“Yeah, I’ll just see you later,” he smiles a bit and grabs his jacket off the couch and walks past Michael, still avoiding eye contact and leaves out the door without another word being said.

Y/N watches quietly as Brock leaves without even looking back. Y/N crosses her arms and glares back at Michael, a bit of humiliation and obvious anger showing on her face, remaining silent until the door shuts behind Brock.

“Glad that’s over with,” Michael speaks fluidly and walks off towards his bedroom door, thrilled Brock is finally gone and not just away from Y/N, but also that no other opportunity to be kissing her or whatever else will occur now.

"Glad that’s over with? What is wrong with you,” Y/N calls out, turning to him as he walks by her, obviously frustrated with the situation. “That was so rude and embarrassing! You had no right in doing any of that.”

Michael turns to her, “Look, I know it’s your apartment, but it’s mine too, and I wasn’t comfortable having him here.”

“He was here for me, not you,” she states. “Why would it make you uncomfortable to have him over when he’s not even here to see you in the first place, and we weren’t doing anything that would have bothered you anyway,” she says. “You weren’t even supposed to be here, but I’m allowed to have whoever I want over and when I want.”

“No you aren’t,” Michael snaps, his fists suddenly tightening by his sides. “Not when it’s some weird, random guy that you haven’t mentioned to me about.”

“I have mentioned him before,” Y/N points out. “He’s not some weird, random guy. He’s from a class I had last semester,” Y/N says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Michael narrows his eyes, “You mean that’s the guy you’ve been going out with and texting and shit?” Michael points, tone becoming more irritated. “You had one class with him and then ran into him on campus. You hardly know the guy, and you have him over in our shared apartment without me knowing?”

“Oh, what, I need your permission now in who I go out with?” She furrows her eyes. “You never ask me for ‘permission’ when you bring girls over.”

“That’s completely different,” Michael exclaims, gesturing out. “This is you and some guy you hardly know, and you two were fucking making out! Who knows what else could have happened!”

“Who cares?” Y/N speaks confused and frustrated. The way Michael was talking to her made her feel like she was some kind of child. She and Brock had been seeing each other for just the last few weeks but she knew him a lot better than Michael did with the girls he hangs with. “What does that have to do with anything? That’s between he and I.”

“No, it’s not. You can’t just be fucking making out with some random guy in our apartment without me knowing. You should have checked with me first!” He calls.

“Why are you so mad and yelling,” Y/N crosses her arms. “You’ve been so weird lately and just,” she shakes her head, “over-protective. What’s up your ass?” She asks, causing Michael to roll his eyes. “You know you have been, don’t you dare deny it,” she points.

Michael had been acting a bit strange lately whenever Y/N happened to mention the new guy she had been talking to. From a series of interrogating questions, to annoyed behavior and a short temper, always emphasizing that Y/N should be careful. Y/N never thought anything of it, always thinking Michael was just in a bad mood from class or work and she just caught him at the wrong times, while also being a normal best friend and warning her to be safe.

But she didn’t know that Michael’s “weird” and “over-protective” behavior was due to him being jealous and actually upset over having to hear about Y/N talk and gush about some guy she was apparently crushing on, her smiling and giggling over texts and saying how nice and great he was. Michel hated hearing it, but couldn’t tell her to stop without making it obvious the reason why.

“I’m not being weird or anything,” he glares. “You just can’t be doing this,” he says, knowing he didn’t have any other valid argument and his behavior wasn’t making any sense. But he was too scared to admit the truth.

Y/N stares at him, her expression implying that was the dumbest argument she’s ever heard, which Michael knows, but wasn’t going to be admitting that either.

“What,” Michael exclaims, shrugging his shoulders.

“I just,” she shakes her head in disbelief, “can’t be doing this? What, dating? Having guys over for movie nights and stuff? Having fun?”

“Yes, dating and having guys over for movie nights and stuff and having fun,” Michael clarifies matter of fact.

“You literally bring girls home all the time?” Y/N calls out. “What’s the difference? Plus, Brock is really chill and nice,” she explains.

“Brock? Really?” Michael crosses his arms over his chest and raises his eyes. “He’s just using you.”

Y/N drops her jaw, offended. “Using me? For what?”

“You know exactly what,” Michael drops his arms and gestures an arm out. “You’re not stupid, you know all he wants is one thing and that is all he is trying to get from you. And once he gets it, he’ll be done with you.”

“First of all, you don’t know anything about Brock. Second, you do the exact same shit to girls. All the time,” she emphasizes. “You bring them over here, without my ‘permission’, and you ‘hardly know them,’” she mocks.

“It’s consensual,” Michael steps forward. “Before I bring them home, they know it’s just a hook-up, a one time thing. But that’s besides the point,” he waves off. “You deserve better than some guy who’s just trying to use you for a one quick fuck.”

“Who are you, my dad?” She shakes her head dumbfounded. “I can make my own decisions, Michael.”

“I don’t want your first time having sex to be with some loser asshole who doesn’t care about you,” Michael states quite genuinely, because Michael is sincere about that and obviously cares for her, but is also indirectly possessive and doesn’t want her to be with anyone else either.

“Um, hold on a second, my first time?” Y/N raises her eyes. “I’ve had, you know, sex before,” she says as confidently as she can.

Michael laughs out, crossing his arms again over her response and the way she spoke it, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I wanted to let you have your moment, but I just couldn’t hold it in.”

“I’ve done it,” Y/N says a bit shyly as her face heats up with embarrassment and annoyance.

“No you haven’t,” Michael grins. “Trust me, I know. Your response alone would have told me that too, but I just know you.”

“Wha -- I,” She trails off, her jaw dropping a bit, trying to think of something to say and to put Michael in his place in some way, even though she knows he’s right.

Michael raises his eyes, smirking, knowing the truth about her.

Y/N breathes out frustrated and a bit embarrassed still. “Fine. Whatever. Fuck you.”

Michael bites his tongue, holding back the urge to make her words a reality. He’s been waiting for a moment between them to happen for forever it seems now. But he’s always been unsure of when to make the move, always being worried and afraid of being rejected and to ruin their friendship in any way, of course being unaware of her feeling the same way back.

“You’re just mad because you know I’m right -- about everything,” Michael says.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” she scoffs. “Is this how it’s always going to be? Whenever I date a guy now and bring him over or anything, I have to get your ‘permission’ and check in with you? I mean, you’re not my fucking dad or brother or something.”

“I’m your best friend, and roommate,” Michael states, as if that has any power in the situation. 

“Who’s currently pissing me off,” Y/N states harshly.

“I would just rather you wait to date a guy that’s actually nice and cares for you and treats you well and won’t use you for sex,” Michael says.

“That’s not your choice,” Y/N states confidently. “You may be my best friend, but you don’t know everything about me. How do you know I don’t want to just hurry up and have sex and get it over with?”

Michael narrows his eyes, surprised to hear her say something like that considering he knows the kind of person she is, thus leaving him momentarily confused.

“Maybe I don’t think it’s that big of a deal so I’m just trying to live my life. Or, maybe Brock really does care about me and it’s headed somewhere good. We both know you know nothing about him since you kicked him out so fast,” she speaks aggravated.

“I know how you think, Y/N. I know how you work,” Michael raises his head arrogantly. “You just have a half ass crush on that guy because he’s putting in all this effort and seems really great, but actually he’s just trying to fuck you one time and then move on to the next girl. And then, you’ll be left heartbroken.”

“Trust me, you really don’t know how I work, because I’m not dating him for that reason at all,” Y/N crosses her arms.

Michael gives a confused expression, more confused than he was just seconds ago.

Y/N just rolls her eyes. “Whatever. He’s gone, it’s done, and I’m done with this conversation now,” she says as she drops her arms and walks past Michael to go to her room for the evening. She’s too irritated and frustrated with Michael to continue speaking to him any further about Brock, sex, his annoying behavior this evening, or any of the events of tonight.

So she walks into her room, ready for this night to end and to think about what she’s going to do about her feelings of Michael since going out with Brock is now a total bust.

She pushes her bedroom door behind her as she steps in, allowing the door to close on it’s own. But her bedroom door slams shut a second later instead, drawing her attention as the shut was too harsh for it to be have been done by her.

Y/N narrows her eyes when she sees Michael standing in her room, clearly being the one to have slammed the door behind her and him now, too. She crosses her arms as she faces him, eyeing him bemused but still irritated from everything.

“I said I was done with the conversation. Don’t you dare try to--”

Michael strides over to Y/N assertively as she speaks, grabbing her waist and pulling her into him, causing her arms to drop as she presses her palms to Michael’s chest and he crashes his lips against Y/N’s, halting her words.

Shock and complete confusion muddles Y/N’s mind as she finds the moment to be too good to be true, her heart racing a million miles a minute. A breath-taking euphoria overtakes her, her not wanting this moment to ever end as Michael has just taken control of this situation and kissed her.

Y/N’s so immersed in the feeling of Michael’s lips against hers; his hands and arms wrapping around her securely, it feeling like he will never let her go; that she doesn’t process the next moment when she and Michael are stumbling back to her bed and falling over onto the soft mattress.

“You confuse the absolute fuck out of me,” Michael breathes out, almost hissing, once he pulls away from Y/N, kneeling up over her as she watches him pull his black t-shirt off and throw it to the side, exposing his fit torso. His bun is a bit messy now with all of the sudden actions, a few strands of his hair falling around his face like earlier when her mind had wandered off to him, looking unbelievably enticing.

“One day, you’re giggling like some innocent school girl over that idiot asshole, and now, you’re implying that you were dating Brock just to fuck?” He glares. “To get that shit over with?” Michael leans in, colliding his lips with Y/N’s again as a hand clasps against her cheek, hardly giving her any time to react.

Y/N moans lightly against Michael’s mouth when he bites down on her bottom lip, pulling back lightly, a hand of his gripping around her throat firmly.

“If anyone is going to fuck you, it’s going to be me,” Michael practically seethes against her lips, causing a shiver to run through Y/N’s core from the husky and possessive nature of Michael’s words.

Michael’s other hand roams down Y/N, feeling along her body before pushing the fabric of her dress up and allowing his fingers to brush and rub against her through her underwear, already feeling the wetness that’s beginning to gather at her center, causing her breath to hitch all together as she feels his touch against her.

“And from the feel of it, it seems like you agree,” Michael speaks cockily with a devilish smirk, kissing her again before Y/N can say anything, feeling like her skin is on fire, knowing she’s in for a night of a lifetime.

~

A/N: Let me know what you think! Any and all feedback is much appreciated! <3