#and trying to change my accent with people i call from here (the internet)

[frothingatthemaw]

I find myself quoting the boys a lot, is there any lines you find yourself saying a lot?

uhmmm. i don’t think so? i think i am embarrassed to do this 😭 my mom says i’ve got funnier since i’ve been watching jackass so maybe the boys have something to do with that? i’m not sure!

[fruitylo0pz]

Five Stars (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut (with fluff), sub!Larissa, fingering, cunnilingus, degradation kink, strap-on.

A/N: After that last sad fic I needed to write something a bit brighter, and ended up bringing sub Larissa back. I wasn't sure I wanted to write about her, but she somehow found her way back in my mind. This one is quite long and with a time jump just to add some fluff towards the end. It's not my best work, but I hope you'll enjoy! I have proofread it, but there might be some mistakes as I wanted to finish it before going to bed.

Word count: ~3.5k

_____

Your job was in many ways repetitive, but when you started your own company focused on providing IT support to households you knew what you were getting into. You just wanted to be your own boss and have more freedom. This job was no different. She had called, telling you she had some issues with her Internet and needed someone to fix it quickly. She sounded attractive, you had noticed that right away. A posh British accent and a voice that sounded like velvet. She was the headmistress at Nevermore Academy, and you had never been there before but you were in awe of the beautiful building. When you arrived, you immediately saw that you had been completely right, only she was far more attractive than you had first imagined. 

“Thank you so much for coming at such short notice. I am so sorry for calling so late, and on a Friday night. I hope I haven’t ruined your evening. I usually have people working on this, but they don’t work this late and I have no clue about these things, but something is not working. Please, follow me.” She walked with a hip sway you could not take your eyes away from. She had a perfect hourglass figure and had legs for days, and oh boy, was she tall. 

You followed her to the IT department, and started working your magic. “It shouldn’t be a huge problem, ma’am. I think I know what the issue is, and I should be able to work through it within an hour or less.” You smiled as she looked attentively at you. You weren’t used to people watching you work, especially not actual goddesses. 

“Can I get you anything while you work?” Her voice was so caring and soft. You thought to yourself that the only thing you really wanted was her, but you couldn’t say that, of course. 

“I’m good, ma’am. But thank you so much for the offer.” You could not stop yourself from eyeing her up. She noticed, and blushed immediately. It surprised you, because you figured people must be staring at her all the time. 

You tried dismissing the thoughts you had, afraid you had made her uncomfortable. “I just have to run these diagnostics, and you should be connected to the Internet soon.” You winked and caught your eyes wandering again. 

“Do you need to be here while you do these things, or can you come back to it later? I feel bad about not offering you anything and I have tea in my office.” She sounded insisting and you agreed to go with her. Truth was, you wanted to know more about her and you also wanted to do unspeakable things with her. 

You could have sworn that you caught her eyeing you up as well, but she seemed shy and was very discreet about it. You decided to test her, and walked up to her as she was preparing the tea. You stood so close that you could feel the heat from her body, and she tried to hide a gasp when she felt you closer. 

You let your hand gently slide down her back, and she twitched. That was definitely a good sign. “Larissa, to be perfectly honest there is something I’d much rather do while waiting.” Her breathing was heavier now. Her entire demeanour changed and it was as if she was melting before you. 

“W-what is that, Y/N?” She turned around, looking confused but with a stare filled with a desire she was trying to mask. 

“I want to hear what your sweet voice sounds like when it’s screaming and moaning my name, Larissa.” You looked at her with a grin and raised your eyebrow. 

She blushed and looked away. “I want that, Y/N. But I’m afraid I don’t have that much experience, and I wouldn’t know what to do.” She was clearly ashamed and bothered by her confession.

You reached up and cupped her chin. “Just be a good girl and follow my lead. I’ll do the work, and you just do as I say, pretty princess. Can you be a good girl for me?” You reached to the back of her head and pulled her closer before kissing her. She let out a sigh, almost as if she had been awaiting it. 

“Yes, I’ll be a good girl for you, Y/N.” Her eyes followed you as you grabbed her hand and led her over to the sofa. 

“Can you start off by stripping for me, Larissa? I’m dying to see those curves without clothes.” You sat down as she stood before you. She started stripping down, but you could tell that it wasn’t anything she was used to. She seemed embarrassed, but the look on your face convinced her that you really liked what you were seeing. She looked even more breathtaking. 

“You’re beautiful, Larissa. Absolutely beautiful. Now, sit on the sofa for me.” You got up, and led her over to the sofa, gently pushing her down on it. 

You sat next to her, letting your hand wander up her thigh. It made her spread her legs as an automatic response, letting you know she liked it. You leaned forward to kiss her neck and she let out a low moan. “Good girl. I want to hear you, Larissa.” Your hand wandered up her waist and found her breast. You pinched her nipple between your fingers and she hissed. Your lips slid down her chest and replaced your fingers as you sucked, licked and bit her nipple and your fingers found the other one.

“I need more, Y/N. Please give me more.” Larissa’s voice was needy and desperate, and you loved it. This stately, stern woman was already a mess for you. 

“Aren’t you a desperate little slut for me, hm? Desperate for me to use you like my own personal toy?” You grabbed her chin and bit her neck, making her moan out loud. 

“Y-yes, Y/N. I am your desperate little slut. Please use me. Please do whatever you want with me.” Her legs spread more and more, and you noticed that her thighs were glistening. 

You got down on your knees between her legs and grabbed her thighs so you could pull her closer to the edge of the seat. “Oh, you are soaked for me, aren’t you? Your cunt is so ready for me.” You let your fingers slide up her slit, and she gasped. 

“P-please, oh… Y/N… I need you, please. I am ready.” She could barely speak, and you hadn’t even really touched her. You smiled to yourself as you slowly let two fingers slide in, making sure that she felt comfortable and got used to you. Her back arched in response, and you picked up the pace a bit.

She moaned and grabbed the edge of the seat as you started fucking her harder. You felt her walls clenching around your fingers and her breathing became more and more uncontrollable. You curled your fingers to reach her magic spot and she screamed out loud, making you smile. Suddenly, she came while screaming your name, sending a wave of her arousal down your hand. You let her ride it out as you slowly pulled out your fingers.

“Be a good girl and clean them up for me, will you?” You put your fingers to your lips, and she hesitated but opened her mouth. Half an hour ago she was an innocent and pure lady, and now she was sucking your fingers clean, tasting herself. The sight was intoxicating. 

You pulled your fingers from her mouth and sank down on your knees again. She looked confused, but you just smiled and kissed your way up her thighs. She spread her legs again and hissed when you reached her clit. Your tongue flicked it just to see her reaction. She bucked her hips towards you. She desperately wanted more. You pulled her closer as your tongue started circling her clit and she started whimpering. 

“Such a horny whore for me, pretty princess. You taste so good.” The words made her moan louder and she very obviously liked it when you called her names. 

You looked up at her while your tongue worked tirelessly to massage her sensitive bud and she gasped as your eyes met. You knew she was close, probably better than she knew as her first orgasm seemed to have taken her by surprise. 

You grabbed her thighs harder and her breathing let you know that the pace your tongue was keeping was about to send her over the edge. She once again screamed your name followed by a row of exhausted whimpers and gasps. You smiled as you sat up and wiped your chin. She was still trembling as she was trying to catch her breath. You found a blanket and wrapped around her so she wouldn’t feel so exposed as you got up and kissed her. 

She blushed and gave you a shy smile while looking down on the floor. “Thank you, Y/N. I have never felt anything like this before. In fact, I have… I have only ever done anything like that with one other person and it never went as far as this. And it was not anything like this, not at all. You are extremely skilled.” Again, her confession made her feel ashamed. She turned away and hid her face with her hand. She wasn’t used to dirty talk or sexual interactions. 

You gently stroked her cheek. You felt both flattered and extremely shocked. How on earth were you her first? You figured you weren’t really in a place to ask her, and you just smiled to make her feel more at ease about her confession. “Larissa, I am so happy you felt safe enough to let me worship you. You did extremely well. Now… As much as I would love to have more of you, I think I should probably continue my work. Otherwise, I’m afraid I’ll get a bad review for not actually fixing your connection.”

Larissa laughed and looked at you with a huge smile on her face. “You might not have fixed what you came here for, but I would certainly give you five stars for the other services you provided.” She blushed, but didn’t hide her face like she would have a few minutes ago. She seemed comfortable with you. She got dressed and walked you back to the IT department. 

You finished your job and packed up your gear. “Well, my job here is done and I must say… I have never once ended up feeling this excited about a job.” You winked and reached up to kiss her. 

“Y/N, may I please take you out to dinner tomorrow? Only if you don’t have other plans, of course. I’m not expecting anything from you, but I would like to get to know you better and pay you back.” She got a concerned look on her face, almost disappointed. It seemed as if she felt like she had asked for far too much.

You grabbed her hand and kissed it. “I would love to have dinner with you, Larissa. You really don’t have to pay me back, but I really want to get to know you better too. You’re a beautiful goddess. I just had to tell you that, because I am still stunned by you.” She blushed again, and it appeared to you that she wasn’t used to compliments. This both annoyed you and shocked you, because she deserved better than what she had ever gotten. You didn’t even really know her, but you could tell that much from her reactions whenever you complimented her. 

___

This one dinner led to many, and you both loved each other's company and you could talk about anything with her. After two months she had asked you over for dinner but this time she wanted to cook for you. You had bought a bouquet of flowers for her, a mix of pink and purple pastels. You really had no clue about flowers, but you had asked in the shop and they recommended that one and they looked like something she would like.

She was waiting outside when you arrived, and she was wearing a gorgeous cream white dress and she looked ravishing as she always did. You gave her the bouquet of flowers and she let out an excited gasp. “Thank you so much, darling. They’re absolutely beautiful!” She tenderly smelled the flowers before looking at you with a secretive grin. “I have a surprise for you later, Y/N.” She leaned down to kiss you, and you were surprised at her confidence, but it was a positive surprise. It assured you that she really was feeling more comfortable and at ease with you.

“What kind of surprise, Larissa?” You tilted your head while raising an eyebrow and looked at her with a curious look on your face.

“That’s going to be a surprise for now. I’ve already said more than enough. Now, let’s go while the food is still warm.” She grabbed your hand and led you back to her quarters. 

She had made pasta, and it smelled delicious. Before this, you had only been out for dinner because she was usually far too busy to have time for cooking, so this made you feel quite special. The table was set with live candles and she found a vase for the flowers. “Thank you so much once again, Y/N. You are truly charming.” She admired them and gently stroked your hand. 

After dinner, you helped her clean up and you ended up talking and laughing in the kitchen, and you loved these silly moments with her. You knew her job was tiring and made her exhausted, so you truly enjoyed it when she could let her guard down and just relax.

She looked at you with a sly grin before grabbing your hand. “I’m afraid I didn’t make dessert, but I can give you your surprise now instead.” She bit her lip as she led you to her bedroom. She pushed you down on her bed before she slowly backed away, and started stripping down. Her movements were slow and sensual, leaving you absolutely mesmerised. She knew that you liked her and found her attractive, and this seemed to fuel her confidence. She revealed a matching lingerie set, dark red and black, possibly one of the best surprises you had ever seen. Your mouth was watering and you were so hungry for her.

“It might not be a lot, but I bought it for your eyes only. It’s the first part of the surprise I have for you.” She smiled as she walked closer and kissed your cheek. 

“You look so fucking good, Larissa. You really are a true goddess, and I can’t wait to taste and touch you.” You leaned back as she walked over to her drawer. She stood there for a little while before turning around. She was holding a strap-on and she blushed before walking towards you.

“I bought this too, and I was hoping… I was hoping you would use it on me.” The fact that she had gone and bought it purely because of you sent a warm wave through your body. She trusted you so much and you knew how difficult that usually was for her. 

“Oh, I'll fuck you so good, Larissa.” You took it from her hand and set it aside before taking her hand and guiding her so she ended up straddling your lap. She wrapped her arms around your neck and kissed you. Your tongues swirled and twirled around one another before your lips started wandering down towards her neck. Your hands grabbed her ass and she threw her head back while you left marks on her neck. 

You pushed her down on the bed before your hand reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. Your mouth immediately found her nipple and you playfully bit it while your hand wandered down her body. She spread her legs and you smiled to yourself. Once reaching her panties you could feel how damp they were already. 

“Tell me what you want, princess. I want to hear what you want me to do.” You kissed her neck and she whimpered while your hands skilfully pulled down her panties and you started circling her clit with slow and teasing movements.

“I w-want… Oh… Y/N…I want you to fuck me and show me whose dirty little whore I am.” She moaned and took you by surprise, but fuck. You loved hearing her utter those words. 

“Such a good girl for telling me what you want. Get on your knees for me, princess.” You got up to put on the harness as she willfully got on her knees and spread her legs. Her cunt was so soaked you could see the arousal practically running down her inner thighs.

After you had attached the harness, you got on your knees behind her and teased her with the tip, rubbing it on her clit. “Are you ready for me, princess? If it’s too much, say stop and I will stop immediately.” You rubbed her gorgeous ass and leaned forward to kiss her back. 

“I’m ready, Y/N. Please fuck me.” She was already whimpering, and those words were all you needed. You slowly let the strap slide in, letting her adjust to it and making sure she wouldn’t feel overwhelmed. You could feel her clenching as you slowly thrusted in and out.

You started pumping harder when you realised she had adjusted and gotten used to the size, and she was moaning uncontrollably. You grabbed her hips and kept a steady pace, until she started moving her hips to meet you in the thrusts. “Please fuck me harder, Y/N. Please use me. Stretch me out.” Her confidence was growing more and more and you spanked her before thrusting deeper, making her scream and whimper. 

You could tell she was getting close as she started gasping for air and her legs were trembling. “Cum for me, princess. Cum hard for me.” You spanked her and one last, deep thrust was all she needed to tip over the edge in an exploding orgasm, making her throw her head back as she screamed your name. She slowly collapsed on the bed while you let her ride it out and gently pulled out the strap.

You kissed her back before removing the harness and left for the bathroom to get a washcloth. You cleaned her up gently, as she was trying to gain back enough strength to move. “Stay still, princess. I’ll clean you up and then I’ll tuck us in. Here, drink some. You’re exhausted.” You chuckled and handed her a bottle of water.

After cleaning her up she managed to pull herself up to her pillow and you crawled into bed with her. She wrapped her arm around you, and you comfortably crawled closer. You enjoyed these moments, and even though you were the more dominant one you found an immense safety in her arms.

She stroked your cheek and kissed you gently. “Y/N? I need to ask you something.” You immediately felt nervous and she must have caught the change in your breathing. “No, it’s nothing like that, darling! Don’t worry.” She pulled you closer to calm you down.

“What is it, princess?” You pulled away just enough to see her face.

“You might think it’s too soon, and you might not want this at all. And I’m sorry if I have misread everything, but I hope I haven’t. But I am very fond of you, and I am very fond of the time we spend together and all the fun we have. And I truly hope you feel the same way. Would you like to be my girlfriend?” Her voice was more gentle than usual, as if she wanted to assure you that she meant every word she said from the bottom of her heart.

A huge smile immediately formed on your face. You never thought she would ask. “Larissa, there is nothing I want more. I wanted to ask you, but I wasn’t sure how you felt and I didn’t want to pressure you. At least one of us had the guts to take the plunge!” You chuckled before kissing her, tears of happiness streaming down your cheeks. 

“Y/N, my girlfriend. Nothing feels more right than this. You have made me the happiest person in this moment, and I will treasure it forever, like I will treasure you forever. You are so beautiful, and I will make sure you always know that.” She kissed you and pulled you closer. You knew she meant it, and you never thought you could feel this way about another person. It wasn’t the easiest for you to trust people or let anyone in, but she made you feel like you were the most important person in the world to her, and that was all that mattered to you. That night, you fell asleep feeling more content than you had felt in probably forever in the arms of your girlfriend, Larissa Weems.

[moths-in-your-closet]

I was on a call with my friend @just-editor and the topic of how confusing and whatnot some of the design choices for the characters in OM! came so we both took a crack at how we would design the chatacters personally.

This is mine, his is posted here. It's not the best thing I've ever drawn but I decided to try a new coloring style with one of my cartoony artstyles. More about the specific choices I made under read more:

The main thing I wanted to do was make the color pallette more harmonized. So for the color pallette I decided to try and stick towards making his color pallette more consistently opposing to Lucifer's and keeping it mainly blue/green with lighter shades. Instead of having both black and white accent colors I only used white to help with the contrast.

For his outfit I wanted to keep it looking preppy and fashionable. The original design kind of gave me the vibe of someone throwing together something from a thrift store so I wanted to keep that vibe with the denim jacket. The jacket is a bit washed out to give it an aged look and I added stitches to pay a tiny homage to the stripes on his original jacket.

His pants are a less washed out denim to keep the color pallette simple but to differentiate it from the jacket.

I changed his sweater to a sweater vest and altered his belt for no particular reason, I just liked how it looked.

His hair is bleached blonde in my design because I saw some headcanons and I thought it was a interesting concept and worked well with his character.

And then, finally, I gave him a singular piercing on his left ear to nod to him being kind of queer by virtue of the mc being ungendered. (If you don't know historically in some places gay men would signal to eachother with a piercing in their right ear.)

That's all I have to say about the design, I hope you have a lovely day/night random internet people!

[blueskrugs]

come back...be here | Chris Kreider

I don't think this can really count as demi's birthday bingo anymore but it was written with that intent so happy extremely belated bday @wyattjohnston. my life got flipped on its axis this summer, but i think I'm finally settling in again, and I did promise this fic. it's only a few months late... length: 6.6k words

This is falling in love in the cruelest way This is falling for you when you're worlds away

It wasn’t supposed to end this way. It wasn’t supposed to start this way, either. 

What started as a fun summer fling turned into so much more before going down in flames. 

Eleanor Cross was launched to international superstardom after being cast as the lead in a BBC miniseries. With her face splashed across every social media site and tabloid and desperate for one last normal summer, Eleanor trades the UK for New England. 

Eleanor is on a run in Scalzi Park—and ignoring increasingly insistent phone calls from her agent—when she meets Chris for the first time. Really, she meets Chris’s dog for the first time, when Chris passes her in the other direction and his German shepherd happily tugs across the trail towards Eleanor. She startles to a stop. 

The man holding the dog’s leash stops, too, yanking out his headphones. His dog sits, tongue lolling out. Eleanor can’t help but giggle.

“I’m sorry,” the man says. “He gets excited when he sees other people running, I’m trying to work on it.” The dog holds up a paw, and Eleanor shakes it obligingly. The dog’s owner chuckles. “Chewie says hi."

“It’s very nice to meet you, Chewie,” Eleanor says. “And—?” she trails off, looking expectantly up at the man. 

“Oh, Chris,” the man—Chris—says. He extends his hand as well. Eleanor straightens back up to shake it. 

“I’m Eleanor,” she says. 

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Chris says.

Eleanor laughs. “Did the accent give me away?” When Chris grins and nods, she continues. “I’m just here on holiday,” she says. Here as long as she can escape the clutches of her agent, avoid signing her life away on whatever new contract they’ve negotiated for her. 

“Well, I’d, uh, love to show you around some,” Chris says. “Only if you want, of course,” he adds, flustered. 

Eleanor finds herself smiling. “I would like that, actually.” She doesn’t know anybody in Connecticut, and she’s found herself rather lonely, even though she’s only been in the States a little over a week. “Here, um,” she says. She unlocks her phone and hands it to Chris. “Text me, and we can get breakfast in the morning, or something.”

Chris beams at her. “That’d be amazing.”

Chris texts Eleanor the address to a coffee shop not far from the park, and that’s where they meet up for breakfast the next morning. He’s already waiting at a table in the crowded cafe when Eleanor steps in. She shoots him a smile and waves; Chris waves back over the rim of his coffee mug.

“Sorry I’m late,” Eleanor says as she finally slides into the seat across from Chris, coffee and pastry in hand. 

Chris shakes his head. “You’re not late, I’m just always early.” He sets his coffee back down. “What brings you to Connecticut, anyway?”

Eleanor sips her coffee and regards Chris. She bites her tongue before she says something like, “You must not watch much television.” Or have any social media. Eleanor’s “disappearance” has been everywhere since Couriers of Dusk became an online sensation—and since she missed a cast event and her agent couldn’t provide an excuse. That had been nearly two weeks ago. So far, no one in Connecticut has recognized her, although she’s mostly been holed up in her Airbnb with a stack of books since she landed. 

Instead she says, “Oh, just wanted to get away for a while, a change of scenery.” It’s close enough to the truth, anyway.

A year ago, Eleanor was a struggling actress, being told she was too old for the roles she wanted and too young for everything else, close to giving up entirely. Then she’d been cast in Couriers, and the internet and casting directors suddenly loved her. She still wasn’t sure how to handle all the new scrutiny. 

“And what about you?” Eleanor asks. “Are you from around here?”

Chris looks caught off guard by his own question being turned on him. He stalls and takes a sip of his coffee. “No, I’m from Boston.” Eleanor…vaguely knows where that is. “But I work in New York for most of the year, so this is sort of like a vacation for me, too.”

Eleanor tries to think of jobs that would allow someone to work only most of the year and be off in the summers. “Oh, are you a teacher?”

Chris blinks at Eleanor for a moment. “Uh, yeah. Of sorts.”  There’s a bit of a strange look on his face, but he doesn’t say anything further. He doesn’t ask any questions about Eleanor’s career, either, so she lets the subject drop, moving into safer conversation territory. 

They sit talking for so long that the morning rush ends, and the cafe tables around them empty. The dregs of Eleanor’s coffee have long since gone cold. Chris’ phone, mostly forgotten on the table next to them, vibrates suddenly with a text, then with another, startling them both. 

Chris breaks off a story he was telling about his dogs. “Sorry,” he says. He picks up the phone, and Eleanor watches as he reads his messages. He swears and stands up quickly. “I’m so sorry, I completely forgot I had a meeting, and I’m late now.”

“Oh,” Eleanor says, standing up too. 

“Tomorrow?” Chris says. “I haven’t gotten the chance to actually show you around yet.”

“Sure, yeah,” Eleanor says. 

Chris is already rushing towards the door. He shoots her a dorky grin over his shoulder. “Same time, right here!” And then he’s out the door. 

True to his word, though, he’s waiting at the same table in the cafe when Eleanor walks in the next morning. They fall into a routine—coffee and breakfast before what Chris starts calling their “Roman Holiday adventures”: sometimes they just go for a walk in the park with one or both of Chris’ German shepherds, sometimes Chris has something else planned, like a trip to the aquarium, or the lighthouse, or whatever else he thinks is interesting in the area. Almost every afternoon, Chris disappears for a “meeting,” and it feels less and less like getting ditched each time it happens. 

It’s been nearly two weeks of their little routine before Chris changes things up. 

“How do you feel about taking a drive into the city today?” Chris asks. He’s waiting by the counter for Eleanor instead of at their table. “It’s a longer drive, but my afternoon is free today, so I figured we could go to some museums or something.”

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to go to The Met,” Eleanor says. 

Chris is grinning as he swings his car keys around his finger. “Excellent,” he says. The barista calls his name, and he grabs two coffees from her. “I already ordered your coffee, let’s go!” 

Eleanor can only laugh as Chris dashes out the door. He’s still waiting for her when she steps back outside, though, goofy grin still in place. He falls into step next to Eleanor.

“You know, I knew there was a reason we got along so well,” Chris says. He takes a drink of his coffee and winks at Eleanor.

“Oh, yeah?” she says.

“I’d spend all of my free time at a museum if I could,” Chris tells her. He leans in, lowers his voice as if he’s telling Eleanor a big secret.

She elbows him playfully. “I used to go to the National Gallery in London on my days off,” she admits. It’s gotten much harder to wander around London these days.

“See? Chris says. “A woman after my own heart.”

New York City turns out to be Chris and Eleanor’s first mistake. 

They’re so wrapped up in each other and the hours they spend walking through the museum that Eleanor never notices the paparazzi. They notice her, though, hiding around every corner with their cameras. 

Chris drops Eleanor off at her Airbnb later that night, after dinner and a long drive home. He walks her to the front door and everything. He looks nervous for the first time since Eleanor has met him. He runs a hand over the top of his head. His hair, which had been shorn short when they met, has started growing out into little waves; Eleanor’s finding that she quite likes the look. 

“Same time tomorrow morning?” Chris asks awkwardly.

Eleanor has nowhere else to be, and nowhere else she’d rather be, anyway. “Of course.”

“Uh, can I— is it okay if—” 

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Eleanor says. She pulls Chris in for the kiss she knows he’s angling for. Eleanor’s hands are fisted in Chris’ shirt, just above his hips, but Chris flails for a moment, unsure of what to do with his hands. Finally, his hands settle on Eleanor’s shoulders. Chris is taller than Eleanor, and she has to pull away before her neck starts to hurt. “Better?” she asks.

“Elle, oh my God,” Chris says. Eleanor giggles. “I need to go before I do something really, really stupid. But tomorrow? Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eleanor says, still a little breathless. Chris steals another kiss before he runs back to his car. 

Eleanor watches as he pulls away before unlocking her front door and stepping inside. She pulls her phone out of her bag for the first time in hours, and finally sees all of the notifications on her screen. She peers at the top one—a tweet from TMZ.

“Oh, shit,” she says, slumping against her closed front door. 

There’s a magazine sitting on the table that Chris is sitting at when Eleanor reaches him the next morning. It’s sitting face-up, one of their paparazzi photos staring accusatorily up at Eleanor. She’s already seen it, and the half dozen others included in the spread—her agent had called her, and emailed her, and texted her with them before 7 AM. Eleanor and Chris holding hands walking into the museum, standing close in front of exhibits inside The Met, Chris’ arm around Eleanor’s shoulders as they stroll through Central Park in the early evening.

Chris has his arms crossed and is staring stonily at the magazine. Eleanor flips it over without looking at it.

“You’ve been lying to me, Elle,” Chris says.

Eleanor splutters. “I’ve lied? You told me you were a teacher! Not some hotshot professional athlete.”

Chris scoffs. “You’re the one who said I was a teacher—”

Eleanor rolls her eyes and cuts him off. “And you didn’t correct me!” They’re beginning to attract stares. Eleanor refuses to look around. She wonders how many cameras are pointed at them right now. “I’m leaving.” It’s Chris’ turn to splutter. Eleanor talks over him. “You can follow me, and we can talk, but I’m not fighting with you here.”

She scoops up her bag, her coffee and her croissant, walking out the front door of the cafe without bothering to wait and see if Chris is following her. 

He does follow, swearing under his breath while he collects his own coffee and that damn magazine. Eleanor keeps walking.

“Elle, wait,” he says. He reaches for Eleanor’s wrist, but she yanks it out of his reach. She still doesn’t stop walking. Chris huffs, still a half step behind her. “Can we start this conversation over?”

Eleanor turns and spins on her heel so quickly that Chris has to pull up short to avoid running into her. 

“I don’t know, Chris, it started out so strongly the first time.” Chris winces a little. “I especially liked the part where you called me a liar.” 

‘Why didn’t you tell me?” Chris asks softly. 

Eleanor laughs, and Chris looks stunned. “You’re not serious. Didn’t it occur to you that there might have been a reason I escaped to the States? I wanted a normal summer before I end up in whatever big contract they’ve found for me, and telling one of the only people who doesn’t already know who I am, ‘Oh, hey, by the way, I’m an actress, you might have seen my show,’ kinda ruins that.”

Chris looks a little sheepish now. “I, uh, don’t watch much TV,” he admits.

Eleanor laughs again. “I’ve gathered as much.” She pauses. “Why didn’t you tell me you played hockey?” she asks. “Isn’t it the exact same idea? How often do you meet someone who doesn't know who you are and doesn’t care?”

Chris shrugs. “Not very often, but more than you might think.”

“And what were you thinking, bringing me into the city where you play?” Eleanor asks, exasperated.

“I was thinking that I’m not usually tailed by paparazzi!” Chris sighs. “Can we try this again?” At Eleanor’s hesitation, Chris continues. “I’ll start. My name’s Chris, and I play for the New York Rangers.”

A woman walking down the street near them does a double take. Eleanor bursts out laughing.

“My name’s Eleanor, and I don’t know the first thing about hockey.” 

Chris grins at Eleanor. “Works for me.” He offers a hand to Eleanor. “Walk with me?” Eleanor doesn’t hesitate this time, taking Chris’ hand and letting him pull her along, pull her in close. “You know, now that I think about it,” Chris says as they walk, “I remember some of my teammates talking about your show earlier this year. I just never really got around to watching it.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Eleanor says.

Chris knocks his cup of coffee against Eleanor’s playfully. “So no dates to watch the show together with popcorn, got it.”

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Eleanor laughs. Then, “Wait, is that what this is?”

“What? Dating?” Chris asks. He shrugs, jostling Eleanor’s hand that he’s still holding. “I mean, yeah?” They walk a few more steps in silence. “Is—is that okay?”

Eleanor pretends to think about it. “I suppose it is.” She points the last bite of her croissant at Chris. “You better start taking me on more real dates, too, though. No more of this coffee shop bullshit.”

Chris pretends to look offended for a moment before he softens. “We can do whatever you want.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “We are continuing the coffee shop thing, though. I kinda like it."

They do continue the coffee shop thing, almost every single morning before Chris rushes off to whatever training session he has in the afternoon. They continue their other adventures, too, and the weeks pass in a blur of sunshine and laughter and Chris. A morning at the Maritime Aquarium. A hike up in Naugatuck State Forest that is much more Chris’ speed than Eleanor’s. A trip back into the city to wander around the Museum of Natural History, then another to go to the Bronx Zoo. Both of those trips land them squarely in the gossip news cycle for a week, but Eleanor finds that she doesn't mind too much.

Chris even invites Eleanor to his house for dinner a few times. Eleanor learns that Chris is a fantastic cook, and it’s also where they really get a chance to get to know each other. Safe from others overhearing their conversations, Eleanor asks Chris all kinds of questions about hockey and growing up in Boston, and Chris asks her about working as an actress and living in England. It’s nice—the way Chris’ eyes light up when he talks about his family, or the way he’s patient and doesn't laugh at Eleanor’s inane questions about hockey. 

They settle in to watch a movie most times, after they eat dinner, an empty bottle of wine sitting on the kitchen counter. Chris starts to tease Eleanor about watching Couriers of Dusk, but those taunts end quickly when Eleanor threatens to turn on YouTube videos of Chris’ highlights instead. 

Those movie nights only devolve into making out once or twice.

Chris changes their routine up on  Eleanor in late July. Another month of Eleanor ignoring texts, phone calls and emails from her agent, trying her best to ignore the fact that her summer is dwindling. 

Meet me at my house in the morning, Chris texts one evening.

He refuses to answer any of Eleanor’s further questions, so she arrives at his house the next morning utterly clueless as to what he’s planned.

Chris is waiting for her at the front door. He’s in the middle of shooing someone who must be a younger teammate out the door—the Rangers shirt is a dead giveaway—but he waves when he sees Eleanor. The other man winks at Eleanor as they pass on the front walk, but he doesn’t stop to chat. 

Eleanor doesn’t even get to ask before Chris is saying, “Teammate. He came by to work out this morning.” He leans down for a quick kiss. One of the dogs barks excitedly from inside—Eleanor is pretty sure it’s Binks—but Chris pulls the door shut behind him. “You ready to go?”

Eleanor raises an eyebrow at him. “Ready to go where, exactly?” she asks. She lets Chris take her hand and guide her to his car. 

“You have to go to Coney Island,” Chris says. He opens Eleanor’s car door for her and steals another kiss as she ducks into the passenger seat. 

“Oh, I have to, huh?” Eleanor echoes once Chris is also in the car. All she knows about Coney Island is from that Taylor Swift song. “And why is that?”

Chris shrugs, half-focused on backing out of his driveway. ‘’It’s just one of those places everyone should get to go to.” At Eleanor’s skeptical look, he adds, “We’ll ride the Ferris Wheel and walk the Pier, I promise it’ll be fun.”

Eleanor still isn’t quite sure she believes him, but she settles in for the now-familiar drive into the city. Chris doesn’t even complain when she picks up his phone to fiddle with the music playing over his Bluetooth.

“I don’t know the last time I had this much fun,” Eleanor admits breathlessly hours later, spinning into Chris’ side as the sun begins to dip. 

Chris chuckles and steadies Eleanor with a hand around her waist. “Worth it after all?” he teases.

Eleanor tips her chin up for a kiss. Chris obliges with a soft smile. “More than,” Eleanor says quietly when they part. “Truly, I don’t know the last time I’ve had a day like this.”

She had spent the better part of the last year and a half filming the two seasons of Couriers, and she certainly had not had the freedom or luxury of spending a day gallivanting around. And gallivant they had: they’d done everything from wander the shops to riding the Ferris Wheel to racing each other in go-karts and teeing off in a round of mini golf. Chris is sunburnt across his nose, and Eleanor is absolutely exhausted.

She can’t remember the last time she was this happy.

Chris leads Eleanor down the boardwalk and onto the beach. Eleanor munches on the edge of her ice cream cone, thoughtful. It’s not late enough that the beach is empty yet, though the families dotting the sand have grown sparse. Eleanor simply slips her hand into Chris’ and tangles their fingers together. They continue walking until they reach an empty section of beach. 

Eleanor drops Chris’ hand and dashes forward until the dark water washes over her toes. It’s cold, even this far into summer, and Eleanor shivers. She glances back over her shoulder at Chris. He’s settled into the sand a few paces back, watching Eleanor with a smile on his face. Eleanor shivers again.

“C’mere,” Chris calls softly. Eleanor doesn’t need any convincing. She steps back up the beach and sits in the sand next to Chris. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, and Eleanor leans into him. 

It’s darker now, and quiet all along the beach. Eleanor hates to break the silence.

“My agent has another job lined up for me,” she whispers. She doesn’t look up into Chris’ face.

Chris squeezes her shoulders. “Elle, that’s great.” Eleanor hums noncommittally. When she doesn’t say anything further, Chris asks hesitantly, “Isn’t it?”

It’s supposed to be great. She’s booked for a lead in some new movie franchise that’s supposed to be a blockbuster. Eleanor should be ecstatic. But, “I’m not ready to leave.” 

She’s certain she’ll be on the next flight back to London as soon as she stops dodging her agent’s calls and accepts the role. 

“Oh,” Chris says.

Eleanor can’t help but laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Yeah, oh.”

They haven’t ever talked about it—the future, what happens when the summer’s over—but Eleanor isn’t kidding herself. There is no future; this relationship has always had an expiration date. Chris doesn’t say anything.

They sit in silence for a little longer, listening to the waves coming in. Eleanor eventually flops backwards into the sand, stretching her arms out above her head. The sky is dark, only a few stars visible between scattered clouds. Chris shifts, too, turning and propping himself up on one elbow. His other hand brushes the exposed skin of Eleanor’s stomach. 

“Do you think I could sleep here?” Eleanor asks.

Chris wrinkles his nose. “I’d advise against it.” His fingertips wander higher, brushing against her ribs. Eleanor squirms and giggles breathlessly. She watches as Chris’ eyebrows shoot up. “Elle, are you ticklish?” he asks. 

Eleanor tries to tug her shirt back down, shoves uselessly at Chris’ hand. It’s too late; Chris has discovered a weakness, and even in the dark, Eleanor can see his wicked grin.

Eleanor stifles a shriek as Chris straddles her, but she does yell a little when his fingers dig into her ribs. She squirms again, even as Chris kisses her quiet. He forgets that he’s supposed to be tickling Eleanor, instead turning the kiss slow and deep. His hands grip Eleanor’s sides. Eleanor sighs into the kiss and melts into the sand.

She doesn’t know how long they’ve been lying there when Chris pulls away. He doesn’t go far, brushing his nose against Eleanor’s as she tries to catch her breath.

“Elle,” Chris gasps. “I think I’m in love with you.” His hands slip underneath Eleanor’s shirt again. She doesn’t try to push them away.

Eleanor doesn’t say anything foolish like, “I think I love you, too.” She slides a hand around the back of Chris’ neck and pulls him back down for another kiss. It’s answer enough for now. 

They stay like that for several more long minutes, lost in each other. Chris’ hands keep exploring Eleanor’s body—along her ribs, over the cups of her bra, down her stomach—leaving goosebumps in their wake. There’s an unspoken question there, and Eleanor sits up, lets Chris pull her shirt over her head.

When she realizes he’s caught staring, she knees him gently in the side. “Chris,” she says softly. “Take me home.”

Chris shakes himself and gets off of Eleanor. He brushes the sand off his knees before offering a hand to Eleanor. He pulls her close for another lingering kiss once she’s standing, the hand not holding her shirt sliding around the small of her back.

Eleanor makes a face as she tries to shake the sand out of her hair. Chris only laughs at her.

“Can I have my shirt back? Please?” she asks.

Chris holds it out of her reach. “For another kiss.”

Eleanor rolls her eyes and tugs Chris down for a kiss. He hands her her shirt back with a smirk. She rolls her eyes again as she shakes it out and pulls it over her head. “Because you haven’t already had enough kisses.”

Chris offers her a hand. “Thought you said something about taking you home.”

Eleanor takes his hand and lets herself be pulled back towards the boardwalk. 

Chris keeps an apartment in the city. He’d explained it once, a few weeks back, that it's much easier during the season to be closer to games and practices. Eleanor is thankful for it now. She’s not sure she could bear the long drive back to Connecticut with Chris’ hand burning on her thigh. Not to mention the sand in unsavory places at the moment. Chris may have been right about not sleeping on the beach. 

Chris all but drags Eleanor through his building lobby, into the elevator, to his front door. Eleanor doesn’t even get to pause and take in the lavish apartment building Chris lives in, too busy being intermittently led by the hand and pressed up against the nearest wall for a make-out break. It’s a wonder they make it through the front door with either of them still clothed.

Chris is already tugging at Eleanor’s shirt again as they stumble down the hallway. It’s dark in the apartment, and Eleanor swears when she stubs her toe on something. It’s enough to get Chris to pause and flip a few light switches.

He looks sheepish, flushed and rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, got kinda carried away, I guess.”

Eleanor reaches to reel him back in. “I don’t remember telling you to slow down.”

They make it to the bedroom without further incident, and after that everything passes in a haze of carelessly strewn clothes and Chris’ hands on her bare skin.  

She wakes in the morning with a jolt. It’s full daylight outside Chris’ windows, and the twisted sheets on the other side of the bed are empty. Eleanor’s phone must have died some time in the night, and she fishes it from her bag, mixed up in the pile of her clothes. She plugs it into the charger on Chris’ side of the bed, leaves it to turn back on.

There’s a sick feeling in Eleanor’s stomach that she can’t place as she pulls one of Chris’ shirts on and treads carefully down the hall. She half-fears finding the rest of the apartment empty—Chris gone, leaving Eleanor to find her way back to Connecticut on her own. 

She breathes a sigh of relief when she rounds the corner and finds Chris sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, but that relief dissipates fast when she sees the furrow between Chris’ eyebrows.

“What’s wrong? Has something happened?” she asks, rushing over to Chris.

His face brightens for a moment when he notices her, but it darkens again quickly. He swivels on his stool to allow Eleanor to step between his legs, absently leans in for a kiss. One of his hands wraps around Eleanor’s hip.

“Chris, you’re worrying me,” Eleanor says again.

That’s when she sees Chris’ phone, unlocked and face-up on the counter. When she sees her own photo staring back at her—shirtless on the beach with Chris the night before.

“I swear I had no idea,” Chris says. “I thought we were alone, I wouldn’t have—”

“Chris, it’s—” Well, it’s not exactly fine, is it, Eleanor thinks. “I know,” is what she says instead. “I have to—” Her phone, still in the bedroom. She runs back down the hall to it, collapsing on the bed. Her screen is flooded with notifications—her agent, her mother, her social media accounts.

She frantically swipes through them. Demands for Eleanor to call her agent. Links to the photos, in case she missed what all the fuss was about. Half-joking, half-scandalized messages from school friends and former co-stars. More irate messages from her agent, and four missed calls.

A one-way flight ticket back to London, dated for the day after next. 

Eleanor swears under her breath again. Chris has made his own way down the hallway and is leaning against the doorframe, watching Eleanor nervously. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks. Eleanor gives him a flat look. Chris grimaces and sits carefully on the bed next to Eleanor, rubbing her back.

It’s comforting, actually, and Eleanor lets herself lean into it for a moment before she says, “We need to get back to Connecticut.” She has to stop herself from calling Connecticut home. It’s certainly begun to feel that way after the last few months with Chris. 

But it could never be home. Eleanor has always been running away from her life in London. She just couldn’t run fast enough this time. 

Chris looks like he wants to argue, like he’d rather hide in his condo until this whole mess blows over and the gossip cycle moves on, but he just nods.

They hadn’t really been in the condo long enough to make much mess, but Chris makes the bed and Eleanor idly tidies the rest of the room. They’re both stalling. 

“Shall we?” Eleanor asks at last, when there’s nothing left to pretend to pick up. Chris takes her offered hand without a word.

Neither of them say much of anything on the long drive back to Connecticut. Chris offers to pick up breakfast sandwiches, but Eleanor’s not sure she can stomach anything right now. They keep driving. Chris holds Eleanor’s hand across the console as he drives, some audiobook playing lowly over his car’s Bluetooth. 

When Chris pulls up in front of Eleanor’s Airbnb, neither of them move to get out. The clock on the dashboard taunts Eleanor, reminds her that she’s out of time. This stolen summer has been stolen from her. After a few long minutes, Chris sighs and turns off his car. He opens the door and climbs out, and Eleanor clambers to open her door and follow Chris up the front walk. 

He waits patiently while Eleanor fumbles with her keys and tries to unlock the front door. He grabs at Eleanor’s arm before she can push the door open and step inside. She turns, tries to memorize his face, the way he looks at her.

When Chris kisses her, it’s gentle, one hand cupping her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheek. Eleanor clutches at Chris, his wrist, his hip, the back of his neck. She’d turn the kiss desperate, funnel every emotion she feels into it—frustration, longing, love— but Chris gentles her every time she tries. Finally—too soon—Chris pulls away with a sigh. Eleanor’s eyes burn suddenly with tears she refuses to let fall.

Chris opens his mouth to say something.

“Don’t,” Eleanor says first, afraid she already knows what he’s about to say.

Chris ignores her. “I love you, Elle.”

“You’re not supposed to say that,” she says. “Please don’t say that.”

Chris smiles ruefully. “I know,” he says. 

“I wish this were different,” Eleanor says. She’s not sure what else to say. In another lifetime, maybe it could be different.

“I know,” Chris says again.

Eleanor’s phone starts ringing suddenly. She chances a glance at the screen; it’s her agent again, surely checking to make sure Eleanor is getting ready to head to the airport.

“I need—”

“Yeah, of course,” Chris says.

Eleanor pushes the front door open at last. She doesn’t watch as Chris walks back to his car and drives away.

Eleanor didn’t bring much with her on her escape to the States, and it doesn’t take more than a few hours to shove her meager belongings back in her suitcases. She finds traces of Chris all around her little house. A book she bought on a date. A Rangers sweatshirt she doesn’t even remember stealing. A museum map. 

She considers leaving it all behind, the way she’s leaving Chris behind. In the end, it all ends up carefully packed away amongst her clothes. 

In the morning, Eleanor flies into Heathrow. Her agent meets her at the gate. She lectures Eleanor the entire way through baggage claim and into the back of a cab, waiting to take Eleanor back to her flat. There’s a stack of papers and a pen thrust into her hand—the contract for the new films her agent has booked her. She’d read it on her laptop the night before, along with a few pages of the script. She signs without looking any closer now. 

By all means, Eleanor should be excited. She can’t muster up any passion for anything right now. 

She’s given strict instructions to “forget that stupid boy.” Eleanor doesn’t bother protesting that Chris is neither stupid nor just a boy, or that she probably won’t ever forget Chris and the most perfect summer she spent with him.

Before they’ve reached her flat, Eleanor’s phone begins to blow up again. News of her new contract must have hit Twitter. She turns her phone off and shoves it deep in her purse.

When Eleanor finally turns her phone back on before bed and sifts through all of her messages, there aren’t any from Chris. She guesses she shouldn’t be surprised, but she’s still disappointed. She’s not supposed to talk to him anymore, not supposed to be in love, she reminds herself, tossing her phone to the other side of the bed. It slides across the sheets and hits the carpet with a dull thud. 

The next weeks pass in a blur. Eleanor meets her new co-star, Zach, the man her management will paint as her new boyfriend for the next several years. 

“So that you’ll forget that hockey player,” her agent tells her, yet again. “And maybe so will everyone else.” Eleanor just forces a smile and tries not to flinch when Zach takes her hand and they step outside. 

Filming starts; Eleanor never hears from Chris. She wears his Rangers sweatshirt into the studio one day, mostly by accident, and winds up in the gossip cycle for a week. She sees her own topless beach photos cross her timelines more than a few times. 

It all dies down—the hype for the films, the gossip around Eleanor’s relationship status—but Eleanor still misses Chris every day. As hockey season starts, Eleanor starts checking the Rangers’ social media accounts for glimpses of Chris. It just makes her more heartsick.

In January, they send Eleanor and a few of her co-stars to New York to do a bunch of press junkets. She considers texting Chris—a warning, a plea to meet up—on the flight over. She goes as far as opening up their long-since abandoned text thread and starts typing out a message. 

She never sends it. Instead, she falls asleep with her head on Zach’s shoulder and wakes up as they land in JFK to find that her agent had taken a picture of them and posted it to Eleanor’s own Instagram story. Eleanor takes a moment to be thankful that Chris doesn’t have any social media of his own. 

On the third day of their little press tour, Eleanor slips away in between sessions to find a coffee shop. It’s mid-morning, and the shop is quiet enough when Eleanor steps in that she feels calm for the first time in days. She breathes in the smell of fresh coffee and bagels and lets her guard down. 

She’s about to step up to the counter to order when someone bumps into her on their way out of the shop.

“Sorry—” Eleanor starts to say, at the same time as the man who bumped into her. Eleanor stops short. “Chris?”

The man does a double take. He hadn’t noticed Eleanor, but he’s gaping at her now, iced americano in one hand and bagel breakfast sandwich in the other. “Elle?” 

Someone clears their throat behind Eleanor. She still needs to order.

“Let me buy you a coffee,” Chris says, already reaching for his wallet again. He sticks the sandwich in his mouth to dig it out of his pocket, and Eleanor stifles a giggle. Eleanor takes his coffee from him before he can drop something. They step up to the register together. “Vanilla or caramel?” Chris asks Eleanor.

“Uh, caramel,” Eleanor answers.

Chris turns back to the register and orders an iced caramel latte and cinnamon roll before Eleanor can say anything else. She follows Chris to the side to wait for her order.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” Eleanor asks. Chris seems to be in no hurry, casually taking his coffee back from Eleanor and leaning against the wall with his ankles crossed. 

“Huh? Oh, no, we just finished morning skate, and I wanted to pick up something to eat before heading home.”

Home, the apartment Chris keeps in the city. They must be nearby. Eleanor suppresses a shiver when she thinks about Chris’ hands on her body in that very apartment.  

She should probably be a little worried, she supposes, that some wayward paparazzi will come across her standing in this coffee shop, but she can’t really bring herself to care. She steps closer to Chris under the guise of getting out of the way of another patron, lets her elbow press against his. 

The barista calls Eleanor’s name, and she has to stop leaning against Chris to grab her coffee.

“What brings you to New York, anyway?” Chris asks. Eleanor’s sure he knows better, but she thinks he almost sounds hopeful as he carefully follows her out of the shop.

She doesn’t look at him as she says, “Press tour,” over her shoulder.

If Chris responds, it’s lost in the bustle of the street beside them. They stand awkwardly for a moment. Eleanor hates every second of it.

She wants nothing more than to pull Chris close and kiss him again, to hell with the media and her agent and anyone who sees. But she sighs and says, “I should get back, they’re going to be looking for me." She’s not sure when she was supposed to be back for the next media session, but she’s probably cutting it close. 

Chris smiles at Eleanor, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Which way are you going? I’ll walk with you, I have to head back to the Garden for my car.”

Eleanor points up the street, back from where she came. At least, she’s pretty sure that’s the direction she came from. She suspects Chris is just going to walk with her no matter which way she goes. Chris grins again, and this time it’s a little more real. 

They fall into step together. Eleanor chokes back the words that are burning her throat—I miss you, I wish you’d call, I think I’m still in love with you. Eventually, the building Eleanor’s supposed to be in comes back into view. 

“I could run away again,” Eleanor suggests, only half joking. Beside her, Chris laughs. They’re approaching the doors. It might be Eleanor’s last chance, so she steels herself and says, “I miss you, Chris.”

Chris stumbles like he missed a step. “Elle, you can’t say that.” He grips Eleanor above the elbow, steers her to the side. 

Eleanor suddenly feels defiant. “I can say whatever I want.” 

Chris rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t sting. Eleanor recognizes the fondness there. “And what are we supposed to do?” Chris asks. “They’ve got you in a relationship with your co-star now, and you’re across the ocean.”

Eleanor doesn’t ask how Chris knows the relationship with Zach is fake. “I miss talking to you.” 

Chris softens. “You can always call me, baby.”

“You’ve never called,” Eleanor argues. 

“I didn’t think you’d answer,” Chris admits. “But I miss you, too,” he adds. “I think even the dogs miss you.”

Eleanor laughs. If she wasn’t late before, she definitely is now. Fuck it, if she’s already going to be in trouble for being late, might as well make it worth it. It’s reckless and a little dumb, but Eleanor loops her arms around Chris’ shoulders and pulls him close to her for a kiss.

She catches Chris off-guard, but he responds quickly, the condensation from his iced coffee soaking into Eleanor’s shirt at the small of her back where Chris presses his hand. The kiss doesn’t last more than a few seconds, too long and not long enough. 

“I love you,” Eleanor whispers as she pulls away.

“I know,” Chris whispers back. He takes a step away. Eleanor itches to reach out to him again. “Goodbye, Elle,” he says, louder. 

“Eleanor!” someone yells from the front doors. It’s time to go.

Chris has already turned to walk away. 

Eleanor hopes no one can tell she’s been crying when she settles in front of the camera for her next interview.

[aibidil]

as someone who was a freshman in college in 2003-4, i don’t think i could ever explain to people what it was like to be on the internet when we had flash videos (because regular vid formats were too big) and ebaumsworld and weebl's stuff (but no YouTube!! not until 2005!, a decade before Vine) as the modern meme era began. it's hard to remember how much work we had to put into finding and sharing memes, the exact opposite of now when good content from every platform is reliably shared around and reposted on every other platform. but I'm going to try to explain it for posterity, so gather round, children, for some tales from an elder millennial

imagine this:

you're in your dorm room hiking up your low-rise jeans and a friend sticks their head in and calls you to their room (everyone still had PCs with enormous towers, no portability, this had changed by 2006 when people bought laptops for college) and you gather behind their desk while they open ebaumsworld and pull up a gloriously terribly edited, completely chaotic, short-form video. "Hokay, so, here is the earth, chilling," it says in an inscrutable accent. "What IS this?" you ask and your friend goes, "SHHHH!" "Damn, that is a sweet earth you might say. WRONG!" You watch the video forty times on repeat, laughing harder each time

A few days later you're the one calling your hallmates in because you've discovered a video (please note YouTube DID NOT EXIST, this was on Newgrounds.com, which I somehow do not even remember) of a kid your age from New Jersey dancing to a... Moldovan pop song no one has ever heard before? You watch it five hundred times until you know all his dance moves and still have no idea what the song is or who sings it, but you will die for this boy from NJ as he is now your favorite person on the planet and you can sing every word as best you can without knowing the language

you go home and your brother is like, "YOU HAVEN'T SEEN MAGICAL TREVOR?!?!?!" and your friend from another university is like "YOU HAVEN'T SEEN BADGER BADGER SNAAAAAAKE?!?!" and thus meme biodiversity is ensured

a few years later it looks like this: you log on Facebook, which you need a .edu email address from a select list of elite colleges to register for, and there's no news feed...the only thing that exists is your friend list and you can post things on your own or someone else's wall. There are no parents or businesses or celebrities or organizations on Facebook. People complain about their parents and professors with impunity and no worry of it ever getting back to them. Half your friends have a fake Facebook account masquerading as a professor or a fictional character or a statue on campus. On a friend's wall they've posted that they can't stop laughing at an early YouTube video of toddlers and before you know it, you've added "that reeeallly hurt Charlie, and it's still hurting" to your vernacular (this video was, at one point, the most watched yt video of all time and was sold recently as a fucking NFT, I wish I could watch my 2007 self learn and try to process this information)

and because this specific type of virality was still new but reliably shared in these ways, you could be pretty sure that everyone in your physical and digital orbits would know the same memes—but that no one in an older generation would have any clue, because of the way things were shared and structured. which is different from now, because our digital spaces are more siloed, because there's so much, so many memes, that my partner and I constantly reference memes that the other hasnt even heard of because meme uptake has to be limited just for functionality within different online spaces. To the point where we both had a gif for "Why not both?/both is good" but his was the taco commercial and mine was the road to el dorado and we literally live in the same house and have all the same irl experiences.

it's both similar to and completely different from the way we share and reference memes now

And now you're in your late thirties and you try to share these classics with your kids and they just look at them like that's the shittiest video I ever saw and you don't know how to explain to them that their admittedly much better quality memes literally wouldn't exist without these precursors but they just think you're lame forever

and you're like, "I'm going to go hang with Hawaii"

[thenightling]

A small pet peeve of mine is the British assumption that all Americans say "Trash" instead of "garbage" and "Fall" instead of "Autumn."

(Small note for people misunderstanding this post: This is NOT about What Brits say. It's about what Brits think Americans say. I know about the word "Rubbish." Thank you. It exists here too, it's just not as common as "Trash" or "Garbage." I should not have had to add this disclaimer...)

Both words are correct here in the US.

I'll start with Autumn.

The only reason the word "Fall" became popular is because it's literally cheaper to print (or it used to be). This is the same reason Hallowe'en lost the ' here in America even though both Halloween and Hallowe'en are correct according to dictionary dot com.

Many years ago it saved money on printing by shortening words. It's why there are Xmas things and why Hallowe'en lost the ' in most American merchandise. And also why "Fall" seemed to become popular, because merchandise and postcards started to favor the slightly shorter word.

Lots of Americans still say the word autumn. I, myself, prefer autumn. You hear the word "Autumn" in the song "Into the Unknown" from Over the Garden Wall, the American-made animated mini-series by Patrick McHale.

Also there are the "Autumn People" from Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This way Comes. Ray Bradbury only passed away in 2012. The film version of Something Wicked This way Comes was made in 1983. That's not that long ago in the grand scheme of things. An American-made movie by an American author born in the Mid-West.

Autumn is actually still a very popular girl's name here. One of my best friends has a niece named Autumn.

____________________________________________

Now for Trash and Garbage.... This is actually sort of regional. Both are correct in the US and neither sounds strange to American ears (usually). Where I live, in New York, you hear both used pretty regularly.

You hear one parent tell a child "Take out the trash." while another might say "Take out the garbage." We say "Garbage dump" and many people have "garbage disposals." (Not everyone has one though).

There's the famous parody trading cards "Garbage pail kids."

And if something is bad or vulgar you'll hear someone call it trash or garbage, equally interchangeably.

There are some states where one word might be favored over the other but both are used pretty evenly here in New York state.

Try to remember, America is like fifty small countries in a trench coat. And each one makes up its own dialect, accents, and even word swaps. Some states say "Pop" others say "Soda." And at least one calls everything "Coke." :-P

It even happens within the same state. When I moved upstate (New York) I tried to order an eggplant hero at an Italian restaurant. The waiter looked at me like I had sprouted a second head. I went through several words. Hero, sub, hoagie... Finally he recognized the word grinder.

Shopping carts are called shopping carts or shopping baskets intechangibly here too.

And though Parking Lot is more common, there are people (usually older) who say Parking Field. With "Grey" and "Gray" both spellings are considered correct in the American dictionary. The reason we spell certain words weird like our "Color" instead of "Colour" and our use of the double quotation marks for a single quote and singular for a quote within a quote (when it's the opposite in the UK) is because Noah Webster was a linguist who believed if he changed words just slightly, and certain grammatical rules slightly, it would help provoke American-English to evolve into its own language. Thanks to inventions like the telephone, and movies with sound, and now the Internet this is never likely to happen.

[safestsephiroth]

I was born in alaska (which has one of the weirdest 'non-accents' you'll ever hear), moved to northern indiana and then to the south, and all of them have had an impact on my speech. Amusingly (perhaps), I listened to so much canadian media that I ended up incorporating a *little bit* of montrealer stuff and internet stuff too.

alaska explanation: there is not an "alaskan accent" because the population is too small, too spread out and the vast majority of people living there are in One City (anchorage) and a huge, HUGE chunk of those people either haven't lived there terribly long and are seasonal/military workers, or come from such widely diverse accented places that there's not really a consistent accent beyond what gets taught in the schools.

I've seen people try to do this really *really* hick like, georgian accent for alaska and it's really not like that. nobody talked like that when I was there.

Meanwhile, in northern indiana (age 11), my grandparents in the sticks didn't use the word "saw" for anything but a carpenter's saw ("I seen them coming down the road" "I seen that coming" "I've seen better days") and it drove me fucking NUTS. Everyone called Coke products "pop" and I wanted to strangle them with how much the word is "soda" and how fucking dumb "pop" sounded to me.

The closer-to-the-city family instead spoke with what I realize now is a Chicago accent and when I get especially heated that can come out as a very powerful defensive thing, but the chicago accent doesn't really sound the way it's often portrayed in media - that seems to my understanding to be closer to a boston accent than Chicago. Chicago accent's fucking weird to identify though because it doesn't sound like... anything to me.

fast forward to Oklahoma, and the language is so much more relaxed. There's a lot of change in how things are emphasized and how different they mean in different places. In Indiana, "are you *fucking* kidding me" is a furious exclamation, like, "I'm about to draw a knife", whereas in oklahoma it's generally said as "Are ya fucking KIDDING me?!" the way some people would use "NO WAY THAT HAPPENED" or "EXCUSE me?" or "I can't BELIEVE they did that!" etc. Very "I'm listening to you and OH MY GOD what the FUCK".

Profanity is slung a lot more freely in Oklahoma than it was there, or at least it is in ways that are more casual and less aggressive. There wasn't much casual "fuck you" in Indiana, though that may also be an age thing.

I stand by the word 'y'all' being a good, important word that has friendliness baked in its genetic code.

there's not a lot of the 'traditional' south-isms here, we don't have 'bless your heart' or anything like that. But at the smaller diners, the wait staff still say 'honey/darling' and I got 'sugar' as an identifier once. Which was bizarre to me.

rb this and tell me what ur accent is. this has no purpose except the fact i just realized i could have like... mutuals with cockney accents or newfoundland accents or something and thats just wild

[nickgerlich]

Too Much Bread

At the risk of sounding really old—I know, that may be a foregone conclusion already—it’s fun to slip into storytelling mode. And believe me, now that I’m into my 36th year at WT, I have plenty of them. Your job is to nudge me if I start to tell you the same story again down the road.

I remember my very first semester here in the Fall of 1989. I was teaching a Principles of Marketing class among others, and since we didn’t have the internet on campus, and certainly not online courses, this was a twice-weekly face-fo-face encounter.

And there was a young woman in that class who brought plenty of her own stories to each session. As much as my Midwest accent betrayed my origins, her thick eastern European accent suggested strongly she wasn’t at all even remotely from around here.

Turns out she and her family had recently immigrated to Amarillo from Poland, or as it was known when they were escaping it, the Polish People’s Republic. It was anything but a republic, because it was under the control of the USSR. Think rationing, shortages, and the usual ineptness associated with that regime.

In one particular class session we were discussing consumer choice. I had thrown out such lofty topics as product attributes, price, manufacturers, and the like, things we kind of take for granted. We know we can just go to any supermarket and enter a world bazaar of products. We are pretty accustomed to having choices.

But she wasn’t.

She related how people relied on the grapevine and scattered news alerts that bread was available at the local supermarket, which, based on her recollections, wasn’t all that super. Think empty shelves. And when they did have bread, there was one kind. Take it or leave it. One size fits all. If they ran out, oh well.

It was thus no surprise when she and her family froze in our supermarkets, because not only did we have bread all the time—well, aside from when they put the word “snow” in the weather forecast—we have 30 or more varieties. Cheap bread. Whole wheat bread. Rye bread. Fancy breads. You name it, we have bread. You might think we grow some wheat around here.

My student went on, one tale after another, of how their transition to the US, albeit one they wanted, was difficult if only because we have it so good here. I wisely put down my lecture notes and let her do the talking, because I couldn’t begin to teach as well as she was doing.

In contrast, we have grown numb to so much choice, and once we have determined “our brand,” we can boldly walk down the bread aisle and quickly cut through all the clutter, grabbing the one we always do.

Well, that is until they are out of it, or life throws you a curveball, like my wife and a recent diagnosis of being pre-diabetic. Another family member was just declared Type 1 diabetic. Both are having to make massive dietary changes, which essentially means reading every damn label and trying to cut out carbs. That’s no easy task in a country that grows so much wheat and corn. Most of our food is little carbohydrate bombs.

The same holds true when you are trying something new, like following a recipe for a new dish, and you are starting with a clean slate, no accumulated memory, little or no product knowledge. A person could spend an hour in the store trying to figure out which curry or pho noodles to buy.

It’s an interesting conundrum we have here, living in the land of abundance with more choices than we can begin to tally. Amazon alone has more than 12 million products. Enter a search query and wait to be overwhelmed. And yet we somehow manage to survive.

Sometimes, though, too much choice can be crippling, as I was trying to convey a few days ago when I said that “less is more.” At least sometimes it is, and only to a point. Grocery chains like Aldi and Trader Joe’s abide by this mantra, with only about 4000 items, compared to the 45,000 you will find at major chains.

There’s actually a line of academic inquiry of this phenomenon called the Paradox of Choice. As you can imagine, the conclusion is that having too many options can lead to decision fatigue, and even post-purchase regret. It’s a topic we will discuss again later in the course. It is also a topic that can be applied into other arenas, like the Mating Game. Think about all of the prospects for the partner of your dreams. Yikes! It is no wonder that dating can be exhausting. It’s kind of like shopping in the world’s largest supermarket.

Thankfully, when it comes to less complicated acquisitions—bread versus a life partner—we have developed a defense system, as I noted earlier. We can blur the background like on a Zoom call, and focus on the one thing we want. It’s just that it doesn’t always work like that.

I wonder whatever happened to that young woman. She’s got to be in her late-50s now, and no doubt long acclimated to the land of plenty. In her extreme state, though, as a newbie here, it was the perfect illustration for how too much choice can lead to headaches.

I am sure, though, that it was a hell of a lot better than standing in a queue in Krakow hoping there’s still a loaf of bread left when it’s my turn to get in.

Dr “I’ll Take Paradoxes For $1000, Alex” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[scp-2007thebrokeone]

The boss told me to take a break for the week so I went to Texas to see Clay and the rest of his family as I walked to the bus as you wait for the bus you started thinking about your time with Clay and Jesse (maybe Patty if I fell like it) how you have fun with them before dise-the bus pulls up be for getting any deeper thought the shock wore off quickly as you step into the bus with your bags as you take a seat in the middle of the bus as you get comfortable in your seat you take you out headphones and and start to play

As the bus takes off you start to think would they even recognize I changed so much in one year I probably shouldn’t worry about it as you relax into your seat watching your friends you can show you have a good day watching Blast by to the bus station as you get off the bus you where  waiting at the stop at the for ten minutes until you see.

(Places holder) Jessie is that you I didn't expect to see you out here ?!?

(Jessie) (she look behind hearing somewhat familiar voices) did know you.

(Places holder) It’s me (ph who is down his hoodie and dust his locks  around do I really look that different.

(Jessie) oh my god how have you been i been a year since why haven’t you CALLED I WAS WONDERING and what happened to your eye.

(Places holder) i’ve been through a lot since the past year between losing my eyes and working with you know what nevermind. My bad I should’ve just called once or twice. It was just a lot going on. 

(Jessie) Stop doing that I hates it when you do that (says with an exasperate a tone ).

(Places holder) do you mean ?

(Jessie) when you going to something explain and you don’t .

(Places holder) sorry, I just have a lot to explain and I am still trying to deal with it all. Nonchalantly.

(Jessie) alright?!? *she stares as a small oval-shaped creature looks at her and hugs my leg* What is that thing .

(Places holder) oooh, this is one of my cubons

(Jessie)cu-what now

(Places holder)cubon thinks of them as a minim me of sorts it, that's the best way that I can explain what they are.

(Jessie)…

(Places holder) so I’m just gonna ask why are you in a biker gang called the black vipers.

(Jessie) she was about to snap at me and she realized it was me she was talking to the person who always understands she sighed   and she explained how she felt and everything since I got injured and disappeared she stares at my face seeing a red X floating over my missing eye feading  in and out . Hey are you ok

(Places holder) hhun ooh ya I was just a little deep in thought I’m going to be down here for the rest of the week staying with my brother. I’ll probably go visit your parents while I stay down here and I’ll make sure they don’t know where you are and look at that my brother is here. And here is my number just in case you want to call me. I’ll see you later.

(Jessie)see you later (pH)

(Places holder) He bro what has been happening

(Bro) nothing what have you been doing

(Places holder)MMH a lot and I think I am going to take a nap and I start to dream this is rare an actual dream like this is this a memory )

(Places holder) why do you need something or selling something

(brother ) yes well kinda I’m figuring out this selling down here so I can provide what they don’t have 

(Axolotl) so you’re trying to work the market

(Bro) exactly ?? How did you now what exactly what I meant

(axolotl) I am my mother child and unrestricted Internet access 

(bro)mmmh ok also, I know this is your first time down here in Texas so to be mindful of that they haven’t heard somebody with your accent before

(axolotl) I have an accent?well

(Elder brother) yeah you coming from Philly you have an accent from down there, and people may stare at you 

(Axolotl) cha they’re just not used to greatness like me coming around”chuckles”

(Elder brother) and please behave 

 (Axolotl) what do you mean I don’t be doing stuff like that

(Elder brother) you know what they’re meant to say to you to not seen an out-of-pocket

(Axolotl) that’s that’s that’s fair 

We arrive at the farmer's market and we start to walk down the market and start to see what they had

(Axolotl) hey bro

(Elder brother) yes axol

Axolotl) I am going to go walk around and explore

(Elder brother) ok I don’t see why not be careful axol

As I walked away I started to look at the stalls of your standard fruits you would find in the grocery store and kept walking until someone I spotted a pin as walked up to it I saw some kid my age with a cowboy tending livestock walking up to the pin an-.

(Clay was tending to the livestock as his dad told him until he heard )

(Axolotl) HEY cowboy



(Axolotl) mmhh ya can you tell what going on with this pin and the livestock I am new to stuff like this

(Clay lifts his head and turns to me and confused at hearing an unfamiliar accent and stops what he is doing and walks up to me )  how did their partner what can I help you with

(clay) umm yes we are s

I wake up in the car my brother groggy and confused and I notice that I’m not at his house I am at the Bailey ranch.

(Axolotl)  tyrone  where is he and why am I here it not like don’t want to be but still huuuu .

As Tyrone was chatting with ms bailey as there are just getting into their conversation there here deep voice that sounded like there a filter base on it

(Axolotl) Tyrone why are we -oh hey Miss Bailey how have you been?

(Clarabelle Bailey)(as she sees a tall 16-year-old boy she hasn't seen in a year and she thinks what has happened to the kid she has known since he was 7 years what could have happened to him she gets up pulling me into her arms hugging me tight)what happened to you sugar .

(Axolotl) (as I was hugged close

[tight-pants-beauties]

Introduction

Hi all. I don't think almost anyone of you is here for text but I'm sharing this anyways for my own fun. You can continue enjoying my content without reading this if you wish. For the rest of you who get additional meaning out of this, hi. My name is Ed. I'm not sharing my full real name because of internet reasons. But just call me Ed. I'm M30 from Scandinavia. I'm interested in music, literature, art, sports, travelling and food. How generic.... But I'm also a highly sexual being. I'm into booties. Latex. Shibari, dominating, being dominated, eating pussy, getting my dick eaten, threesomes, one night stands, seduction, spanking. But also sensual sex, tantra, kissing, cuddling, intimacy, emotional connection, love and companionship. I've been interested in sex, sexuality, eroticism, porn and such since my puberty. Sex was always interesting for me because there was a sense of taboo, secrecy, shame and curiosity around it. I lost my virginity with my girlfriend when I was 17. It wasn't that good sex to be honest but we loved each other and wanted to try that together. As of writing this note I've had sex for hundreds of times with 14 different partners. I have a long sexual bucket list. I'm not dating anyone currently. I'm mostly interested in women. My preferences are going more and more towards emotional compatibility over looks but I still fantasize about big booty small boob women who are short but not skinny. Nosering, tats and ponytails get me for some reason. So does accents, smiles, shyness and curly hair. I'd love to teach a girl to be a better sub or help them explore the kinky side of themselves. I am a sexual altruist. I love giving other people attention and satisfaction. I'm also trying to boost the self esteem of my partners. There are lots of expectations and pressure on young women for sex, being a good lover, not being a slut, giving good head, having a sexy body, perfect skin and so on. (obviously there is also lots of pressure for men...) I always try to compliment my sluts for the good work they do and leave everyone in better state than what they were before they met me. I have noticed through experience that this makes sex a powerful thing that's capable of changing lives of people. Making people inspired, happy, energetic, better persons. I think sex is awesome. Currently I'm in middle of something. I broke up with a perfect horny perv partner because we had huge incompatibilities and fights. I feel sad. I got many new sex partners but I didn't enjoy casual sex with them. Something was missing. I feel a bit confused. I want something more than just raw fucking. I want my partner to adore me, to submit fully to me, to support me, to desire me. Or is even that enough? It's easy to have solo sex. I can do anything in my imagination. It always succeeds. It's always available. It's always perfect. This is why I come back to porn and this blog from time to time. I have had pauses from porn. I have a wild imagination so it's not a problem to sexualize each and every woman I meet and imagine wild sex with them. But I feel like making a homage to woman body. To collect the best pieces, the diamonds, of beauty here. That's why you're reading this blog. That's why I'm very, very picky to include only the most astonishing pieces here. Thanks for reading. See you around.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fully Completely 1

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), attempted violence, mutual irritation.

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: I did not plan to get the first part done so soon. I will probably be setting time aside as I write this to also work on some original stuff. When it comes to that, I’d love if y’all might let me know what you think would be a better medium to release it? Kindle, Patreon, etc. I’m really not sure but if it was Patreon it would like be two series running at once with a chapter of each a month + Q&A and maybe some bonus materials? I am a noob at this shit and it wouldn’t be for a while yet.

Anyways, I’m rambling...

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: She simply slammed the door

💀💀💀

The garage smelled like oil and snow. The cold air seeped under the closed metal door as you sat on the low stool and affixed the new headlight to the propped up Harley. It was only the start of an impractical rebuild; your brother wanted everything metal replaced with chrome. You thought it was obnoxious but the parts were paid for and you could never complain for money.

You were funded exclusively by the town’s club, your garage not far from The Asp where the members hung out and revved the engines you found yourself looking at more often than you liked. You were good at what you did though and privileged for it. You had the protection of the club without having to devote yourself truly to its bounds.

You checked the wiring and rolled away from the bike to change the station as the radio crackled. The snow kept setting the speaker to static and the noise was driving you mad. You flipped the switch to play the cassette stuck in the drawer, the old stereo beaten up and filthy. Springsteen’s gristled tones filled the shop and you wheeled back to your brother’s ride.

With the storm would no doubt come more work. Your fingerless gloves itched more than they kept you warm. Your fingertips were numb as you touched the frigid metal and the sweat of your palms made the fabric uncomfortable. You were used to it, rather tolerant as your task kept you distracted.

You were interrupted as you bent to look under the tank and get a good look at the exhaust and the rest of the beast’s entrails. You had the new pieces still wrapped and didn’t intend to do it all at once. Jerome could wait for his tacky redesign.

A loud banging came at the metal door and you glanced over in irritation. Anyone in Birch knew to come in the painted door to the left and not hit the large one. You huffed and stood with a groan, your hips sore from the low stool. 

You fixed the front of your fleece-lined denim jacket and pulled the tail of your plaid shirt from inside your jean pocket. You’d been hunched over so long you were all wrinkled. You went past the large door and into the small entryway off the left of the garage and opened it with a tinkle of the rusty old bell above.

You stuck your head out into the gales as the snow continued to fall and squinted at the man in his thin jacket. He stood beside the long luxury car as another man with wild orange hair remained in the driver’s seat and blew into his hands. They were out of place in the small town and you could tell by the way the man scowled at the door that he knew it.

“Hey,” you called to them, “there’s a place down the street. I don’t do walk-ins.”

“Oh, hello, Miss…” he let his voice trail off as he neared and you stared at him rather than provide your name. His accent, his attire, the curl of his lip, it was clear what he thought of you and the bodunk town, “actually I was referred by an acquaintance. One, James Barnes.”

“Bucky?” you furrowed your brow.

“Mm, yes, that one,” he said, “my car will need detailing. We had some difficulties on the motorway.”

“Right,” you tried not to scowl, “well, if he sent you, I guess I can help.”

You left him and the door clattered behind you. He followed a few steps after as you went to the switch and pushed it to raise the wide door of the garage. You waved in the driver of the car and he carefully pulled in beside your brother’s bike. 

He got out and you were surprised by his size, he was taller even then his companion and wider; neither could be described as short. You lowered the door as the thinner man walked along the shelves and the long table along the other side of the garage. The bigger man stood by the car and tucked his hands in his pockets.

“Not much better in here than out there,” the dark-haired man turned back to you, “you have heat in here?”

“You need a better coat,” you said as you rounded the back of the car, “and some boots.”

You glanced pointedly at his leather shoes and bent to reach under the table. You pulled out the space heater and plugged it in as you set on the wood. You cranked it up and smiled at him tritely.

“So, what’s the damage?” you asked as you looked to the other man.

“Headlight, maybe,” he said in a peculiar accent, “some scratches. We had a bit off a run-in.”

You neared and bent to examine the front of the car. You sighed as you tilted your head and clicked your tongue. It was easy enough to beat out the dents and buff out the scratches with a quick refinish. The headlight would need to be replaced and you knew they didn’t carry anything for that model in town. No one there was pretentious enough to drive it.

“If you want the headlight done before you leave town, it’ll take some time to get the replacement,” you warned.

“Oh, and how do you know I’m leaving?” he taunted coyly.

“Well, I know you’re definitely not sticking around,” you scoffed.

“Why wouldn’t I? A quaint place like this, I’m sure there is so much to explore,” he said dryly.

You had no delusions of what Birch was but it wasn’t the part of outsiders to deride the dead end. You stood straight and put your hands on your hips.

“You can go back to your castle, my lord, but you will have to wait out the storm,” you sneered. “Two days for the scratches. If you want to take it back after that and wait for the headlight to arrive, that’s fine with me.”

“Two days for the scratches? Surely you could do it before the morning,” the black-haired man insisted.

“I could but I have other work to do,” you replied, “so you can be patient and take your turn in line after all the hicks who live here.”

You went back to the table and grabbed your phone from where you tossed it earlier. You unlocked it and searched the model of his car and scrolled through the parts list. 

“You’re Bucky’s guest so I’ll send the bill to him?” you asked, “though you do look to be able to afford it yourself.”

“You can invoice him directly,” he assured, “so you’re one of them?”

“One of them?” you repeated as you focused on checking out. The damn internet kept cutting in and out.

“My brother, those men in this town, I never knew a woman--”

“I’m not a biker. My brother is in the club,” you assured him, “so that big blond dope, he’s your brother?”

“Regrettably, yes,” he slithered, “Loki Odinson,” he introduced himself as he rubbed together his hands, the leather gloves doing little to protect his fingers, “my driver is Korg, and you’ve yet to tell me with whom I am trusting my property.”

“Again, there is a shop down the street. Prices aren’t bad,” you finished up your purchase and tucked your phone in your jacket pocket.

He met your eyes as you turned to him and he looked down his nose. You kept on and brushed past him as you went back around the car and sat by your brother’s bike.

“Sorry about the boss,” the other man, Korg, intoned, “he can be a bit--”

“Don’t apologise for me,” Loki snipped, “I needn’t atone to her.”

You rolled your eyes and wheeled around the side of the bike, “if that’s everything, you two can head back out. I’ll let you know when the car’s ready.”

“We might wait for the snow to calm,” Loki suggested.

“I close in an hour, you’re not staying here all night,” you sniffed.

“Trust me, I have no special desire to spend more time with you than necessary,” he retorted, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman so volatile as you, dear, and I’ve only just met you. I never expected you people to have very many manners but perhaps what I did presume was too much.”

You bared your teeth but kept at your work. You would worry about kicking him out when you finished the wiring.

“To be fair, had you not spoken first, I might’ve assumed you were a man,” he added.

You paused and glanced down at the open tool box. You weren’t unused to the comments, you weren’t girly in any way but it wasn’t like you were trying to be a man. You wore what was comfortable and in your work, practicality prevailed over aesthetic. Yet, your years of ridicule as a kid made you less tolerant of the comments and those had stopped long ago because you made sure they did.

“Oh, darling, have I upset you?”

“Don’t call me that,” you said as you reached into the toolbox.

“Well, you’ve not given your name and I’d hate call you what I truly think of you--”

The wrench flew from your hand as you stood and spun to him. It barely missed his head and bounced off the wall and plunked onto the table beside the heater. His eyes rounded and the other man looked at him. There was a thick silence as you glared at him.

“If you weren’t a friend of Bucky’s, I wouldn’t’ve missed,” you hissed, “now I will kindly, before I reach for a bigger wrench, ask you to leave.”

He pushed his shoulders back and tilted his head as his lips thinned dangerously. He swallowed and beckoned the other man with two fingers. His cheek twitched as if he would grin and he nodded subtly.

“Well, darling, how amusing you are. These brutes must adore you,” he snarled, “the exterior does indeed say it all.”

You bent and reached for another tool blindly. He blinked and quickly dodged as you flung the next wrench and he followed his henchman to the entryway. Your temper was a match for many men. It kept you safe.

“Barnes did not say his mechanic was a madwoman,” Loki called back as the bell rang.

“What, are you going to tattle on me?” You stormed towards the doorway, “you precious little princess?”

“Princess?” he met you in the doorway as Korg behind him held the door open and the snow blustered in, “I know Barnes will do me no other favours, but do you think he’ll do you any?”

“Get out,” you spat and shoved him, “I don’t need men to take care of me and I have no problem in proving that.”

He bit the inside of his lip in a crooked smirk and winked before he turned away and strutted out into the snow, shielding his face from the wild winds. Korg trailed behind him and the door sprang back into the frame. You crossed your arms and glared at the peeling paint. 

You were tempted to tow his car out and let it weather the storm but you were smarter than that. If he was doing business with Bucky, you would be a fool to get in the way of it. 

💀

The snow dwindled to a lazy dusting, the ground thick and treacherous. That day, you started early and around noon, you headed across the street to the diner for your usual lunch of a club sandwich and black coffee. You didn’t have to order as all the waitresses knew what to expect. You weren’t unfriendly but your association made many standoffish.

You tapped on the lip of your mug with your thumb, fingers hooked through the handle. The sleepy town felt dead in the winter. You were used to the dullness of Birch but tolerance was hardly happiness. It was home, where you’d grown up and you had no certain desire to get out, but you wouldn’t mind a little more than what was expected.

You yawned and gulped down the last of your coffee. It was bitter and left a few grounds on your tongue. You leaned back and grabbed the monthly newsletter from between the salt and pepper shakers. You read through the fun facts which weren’t very fun or even new. They were copy and pasted out Guinness and Reader’s Digest.

You looked up as you sensed someone approach your table but it wasn’t the waitress. The man from the day before slid coolly onto the seat across from you at the booth and smirked over the table. You raised the newsletter again and folded it backwards to read about the weekly knitting circle down at the rec center that was also the library.

“Good afternoon to you too,” Loki said, “it must be fortune I ran into you, I was hoping to inquire after my car--”

“I told you, two days,” you said tersely as you continued onto your horoscope …‘a new force will bring change’... You hated this tripe. You swore, every month they just switched the blurbs under each sign and hit print.

“So be it,” he cleared his throat and you lowered the paper as he shrugged out of his jacket.

“What are you doing? I eat my lunch alone,” you said.

“Well, to be frank, I was pointed here on the promise of some famous cabbage soup,” he explained as he folded his jacket over the seat next to him, “you looked like you needed company.”

“I don’t,” you assured him.

Kimmie came over and set down your sandwich. She greeted Loki and you saw the way she eyed his tailored suit. He stuck out in the town of flannels and denim.

“Hello, sir, can I get you something to drink?” she asked.

“Tea, English breakfast,” he ordered smoothly.

“Oh, sorry, we only have um, um, sorry, peppermint, earl grey, ginger lemon, and green,” she listed off as she tried to remember them all.

“Earl grey,” he sighed, “and a menu.”

“No, no menu,” you insisted, “and you can take his tea to another table.”

“And when we’re through, I’ll take the cheque,” he ignored you and snickered under his breath.

“Kimmie, can I get a to go box?” you asked as you shimmied off the seat and snatched up your coat, “I have to get back to work.” You took out your wallet and counted out the usual amount plus a tip, “thanks.”

“Of course,” she smiled awkwardly and glanced between you and Loki.

She scooped your sandwich back up and scurried away with it. You felt him watching you as you walked away and went to stand by the till as you watched Nora flit into the kitchen. She packed up your food and returned with the box. You took it and headed for the door, ignoring the arrogant out-of-towner on your way.

“Wait,” Kimmie called out your name and you turned back as she held up your keys, “you dropped these.”

You met her halfway and took them from her with a mutter. Again, he was watching you… or still watching you. She spun and promised she’d have his tea shortly.

“Hmm,” he hummed and you head to the door again, “interesting, I never would have put the name to the face.”

You pushed out into the snow and gritted your teeth. You thought of getting the work on his car out of the way quickly so he would leave you alone but your spite made you want to put it off entirely. Whatever. He’d be gone soon enough.

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 24}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

A/N: Sorry for the late post! My baby shower was today, so Tara and I have been extremely busy! Look for Chapter 25 on her blog on Monday!

Warning: 18+ content.

Cassian got to the restaurant and took a look around. There were people everywhere, bustling about, getting ready for the night’s grand opening.

It had become the talk of the town - and the local groups on the internet - so they were expecting a good turnout.

At least, that’s what Cassian’s guess was.

He hadn’t talked to Nesta since he stormed out two days before, with the exception of one text exchange.

Cassian had texted, Tell Nyx I love him and I will see him tomorrow.

Nesta had replied, Ok.

Now, he was searching for that tiny little man with a mop of dark, black hair.

When he finally found Nyx, he was in his stroller eating cheeto puffs off the tray. When he saw Cassian his eyes lit up and he was instantly reaching for him.

Cassian laughed as he unbuckled him from his stroller and picked him up, giving him the biggest hugs. “Hey, buddy. I missed you, too.”

“This is his third helping of cheetos,” Helion said, from where he leaned against the wall. “Sorry about the next diaper.”

Cassian chuckled. “All this going on and Nesta stuck you on baby duty?”

Even saying her name out loud hurt, but he didn’t let it show.

He gestured toward the kitchen and said, “She’s been here since six and she’s in one of her moods. I decided I’d rather be on baby duty than caught in the crossfire.”

He winced, figuring that didn’t bode well for the two of them today. “I’ll stay in the bar, then.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Helion replied, looking him up and down, before pushing the stroller behind the counter. Cassian had the distinct feeling he was looking for a crack in his armor. He didn’t bother telling him that he’d been broken for two days, and the only person who could fix him was currently yelling at some poor employee in the kitchen.

Cass crossed the threshold into the bar area and let out a low whistle. He’d had a hand in the design, but most of this was all Nesta. It accented the restaurant perfectly and he immediately loved the place.

“Nice, right?”

He turned to find Kallias carrying a tray of fresh glasses from the dish area and the smile on his friend’s face was infectious.

Cassian nodded as Kallias said hello to Nyx. “Yeah, it looks amazing.”

Kallias nodded. “You and Nesta did good.”

“Thanks,” Cassian muttered, not wanting the conversation to go any further. “How long have you been here?”

“Just got here,” Kallias said, as Nyx started playing with the strings on Cassian’s hoodie. “Viv will be here soon to help out. She said she can watch Nyx while we work.”

Cassian nodded. “That would be great.”

It would be helpful, of course, to have Viviane help out watching Nyx. Cassian had a ton to get done in the next six hours before the opening began. He didn’t want to let Nyx go, though. Two days. It was the longest he had been away from Nyx since...everything happened.

“Well, little man, until then, you get to help me unpack liquor bottles,” Cassian said, trying his best to sound excited.

Nyx giggled. “Ba ba ba ba ba ba.”

“Yeah, different kind of bottles,” Cassian chuckled, and carried Nyx with him into the back room.

Kallias had been at the bar for the past two days, getting most of the stock ready to go. A few texts to explain the situation was all he’d needed and Cassian was thankful he had such a loyal friend and coworker.

Elain hadn’t been as understanding the first night he’d been there, but after talking to Nesta, even she backed off. He had no clue what Nesta had said to her, but her frustration turned to sympathy and she was back to treating Cassian like the brother-in-law she loved and not like a man who’d hurt her sister.

After pulling the carrier out of Nyx’s stroller, he strapped the baby to his chest and set to work, carrying case after case of liquor up to the bar. Kallias was busy stocking the assorted glasses they’d need, so the two worked in silence for the most part.

He had just walked back into the store room, short one case of whiskey, when he heard Nesta talking from the dry pantry separating the store room and kitchen. Cassian’s heart lurched and he was about to make his way back into the bar, but Nyx squealed as he heard her voice.

The swinging door flew open as Nesta hurried into the store room, wondering how Nyx had gotten in there in the first place. She froze when she found Cassian there. Their eyes locked and she blinked.

“Hey, Nes,” he said, quietly.

“I…didn’t know you were here,” she breathed.

He shrugged, turning back to the boxes of bottles. “Got here about an hour ago. Didn’t want to interrupt you.”

Nyx was reaching for her, so he unclipped the carrier and gave him to her. He giggled happily as soon as he was in Nesta’s arms, but she froze, unsure of what to say. “You should have let me know you were here.”

Another shrug. “You were busy, and I knew what I needed to do. Kal said Viv would be here later to watch him.”

She nodded, silence filling the space again.

Nyx pointed at Cassian, reaching for him. “Dada.”

Cassian stilled.

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed his mouth.

A second passed.

Then, at last, he said, “What did he just say?”

“Dada,” Nyx repeated, and clapped his hands together. He reached for Cassian. “Dada!”

Cassian took Nyx, although he was moving slowly, stunned into silence. Nesta watched as a thousand different emotions crossed his face.

“Dada?” Cassian breathed, looking from Nyx to Nesta. “He just called me-.”

“He’s been saying it for the past two days,” Nesta said, staring at a spot on the wall behind Cassian.

For a moment, Cassian didn’t say anything, but then he asked, “You didn’t bother to tell me that?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed and she slowly met his gaze. “You left.”

“A simple text letting me know that Nyx said his first word wouldn’t’ve killed you,” Cassian snapped. “Especially since his first word was…” Cassian shook his head, that fury fading as quickly as it had come. He looked at Nyx and chuckled, softly. “Dada, hmm?”

“Dada,” Nyx said, taking Cassian’s face into his hands before patting his stubbled cheeks with his chubby little palms.

Cassian watched Nyx for a moment, chuckling softly, before asking Nesta, “Has he said anything else?”

Nesta shook her head, even though Cassian wasn’t looking at her. “Just that. Probably wondering where you were. He’s been saying it nonstop, after all.”

“I’m sorry, bud,” he said, softly. He kissed the top of his head. “I’m still right here though.”

He was about to buckle him back into the carrier when Nesta reached for him. “I can take him. You’ve got a lot to do.”

“No more than you,” he said, settling him back into the carrier. “And I’ve missed him. Viv will come see Kallias when she gets here. Let me keep him.”

Her hands fell to her sides. “Fine.”

The tiny room felt like it was closing in on him, looking at her. They were so close together, whether they wanted to be or not. Without another word, Cassian grabbed the closest box and shouldered his way back through the swinging door.

Kallias caught the look on his face as soon as he came back. “That must have been the first conversation you two have had.”

Cassian grunted in response, letting Nyx continue to pat at his face.

“And how’d it go?” He asked, leaning against the bar.

“About as well as you think.”

Kallias watched his old friend for a moment before nodding, deciding to let the conversation drop. Cassian was grateful for it.

He was thankful for Nyx, too, for an endless amount of reasons, but right now, he was a distraction. With Nyx here, he was only thinking about Nyx, not about Nesta.

Cassian spent the next couple of hours lining up liquor bottles, and when Viv got there, she happily took Nyx and let Cassian work.

Once Nyx began playing with Viviane, Cassian’s thoughts were once again on the last person he wanted to be thinking about.

He continued to work, trying his best to keep his mind on that. It was kind of hard, though, when the owner of the restaurant was Nesta. He guessed he was part owner now, too - owner of the bar, anyway.

The hours flew by and by the time Cassian decided to check his watch, he realized he only had thirty minutes until the doors were opening for the main event.

He needed to get out of his old hoodie and into something nicer.

After making his way into the stockroom, he pulled off his hoodie before digging into his backpack for the black henley he’d brought. It wasn’t fancy by any means, but it was sure better than his ripped hoodie.

The door swung open as he was pulling his shirt over his head, and when he turned around, he saw Nesta, once again.

She stilled just in front of the door. “Are you planning on being in here every time I come in?”

It was meant to be a joke, something to lighten the mood, Cassian knew, but the light didn’t exactly reach her eyes.

He looked down at his shirt. “Just had to change. Didn’t think a hoodie was appropriate for an opening celebration.”

Nesta nodded, giving him a forced smile. “Couldn’t have gone all out with a button down?”

“This is Azriel’s,” he said. “All of my nicer things are at…home.”

He said the last word hesitantly.

Nesta’s eyes fluttered shut. He knew she was dying to say something, but what it was he couldn’t tell. He thought he knew her well enough to read her face. It seemed he was wrong though.

“I’ll come by and get my things on my day off this week,” he said, saving her the request. He pulled the Henley over his head, leaving his backpack against the store room wall. “You won’t even know I was there.”

“Cassian…”

He pushed back through the door without waiting to hear what she was going to say.

This was agony. Every moment of being around her hurt, because every time he saw her, he knew that he’d wasted the past three months of his life. He’d wasted his time falling in love with her, because she still hadn’t said it back.

“Dada!”

Nyx and Viv sat at one of the new tables, Nyx munching on some crackers, and even Kallias’ eyes dragged to him. Nyx’s blue eyes were the only ones he cared about though.

“That’s new,” Kallias said, from where he leaned across the bar.

Nyx’s new favorite word was one of the few things that had made him smile all day. Even if it tore him apart at the same time.

He didn’t mind Nyx calling him that. He was still too young to understand what had happened to Rhys. So one day, he’d explain to him who he really was, and who Rhys was. But until then, he was content to be Dada.

Cassian lifted him out of the high chair he was in and smiled, wistfully. “Hey, buddy.”

On the other side of the room, Nesta pushed through the double doors and into the restaurant, making sure everything was in order as the clock ticked down.

Cassian couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.

He wondered if she knew.

*

This was the biggest night that Nesta had in quite some time. A new bar would be amazing for business, and she was expecting a hell of a crowd.

And she wasn’t disappointed.

At exactly six, people began to pour in. They sat, and they ate, and by the Mother, they drank. She was amazed at how well Nyx was doing. She kept expecting to see him sleeping in a corner with Viviane, but he was being passed around to Viv, Kallias, Helion, and Cassian, having the time of his little life.

Nesta was glad someone was enjoying their night.

She should be enjoying her night, should be pumped at the booming business, but she could hardly focus.

All she could think about was him.

Cassian.

Every time she even got a glimpse of him, she wanted to run into his arms and tell him that she loved him. But she couldn’t do that. She had no clue what the repercussions of their relationship would do to Nyx, especially if something were to happen. If they were to break up, would this be their future? Barely speaking, passing the kid back and forth, both of them in misery?

Even when Elain and Azriel got there, both giving her hugs and warm smiles, the one on her face wasn’t real. She knew Elain could tell, knew she wanted to pull her aside, get the whole story, and quite possibly talk some sense into her, but she wouldn’t.

She couldn’t.

Not tonight.

As much as she tried to spend most of her time in the dining room, greeting guests and asking how they liked the drinks and new menu items, she kept ending up in the kitchen.

She got word that there had been a small grease fire on the line and she was about to rush into the kitchen when Helion stepped in front of her.

“Take a breath.”

“I can’t,” she replied, pulling her hair back off of her face. “There was a fire and-.”

“And it’s under control,” he said, gripping her by the shoulders. “It’s been put out, and I can go deal with Emrys and Luca and any potential fallout. Go have a drink, relax with your sister. You deserve a glass of wine and a moment to sit down.”

Nesta hesitated, but Helion wasn’t having it.

“Go,” he said. “Kallias is currently manning the bar. Go order a drink before the next wave of people come along.”

With a huff, Nesta nodded and exited the kitchen. True to Helion’s word, it was Kallias that was behind the bar. The second he saw Nesta coming, he was pouring a glass of wine.

She took a sip as soon as she reached the counter. “Vodka.”

Kallias blinked, then obliged her. He poured her a shot, Nesta downed it and thanked him, then took her glass of wine around the room to greet people. She eventually found Elain and Azriel, and was getting ready to take a seat by them, until she noticed Cassian already sitting with them, Nyx in his lap.

Bypassing their table, she gave them both an apologetic smile, before redirecting herself towards the bar. She breezed past it and Kallias, draining her wine and leaving it by the sink, before she entered the store room.

Cassian must have handed the baby off to Elain or Viviane, because not even a few seconds later, he was right behind her.

“Is this how it’s gonna be, Nes?” He asked, not stopping until he was right in front of her. “Are we just going to avoid each other, unless Nyx is concerned?”

The door hadn’t even finished swinging shut, but she noticed Kallias stacking a few boxes in front of the door.

For all intents and purposes, do not enter.

Their first night working together and already a fight. She couldn’t blame his frustration, this was all her fault.

“It hurts to see you,” she breathed. “It hurts to see you because I don’t know what the hell is going on.”

“You don’t know what the hell is going on?” He asked, incredulously. “I don’t know what the hell is going on! You’re so-.” His words fell away and his eyes shut as he rubbed his temples.

Nesta arched a brow. “I’m so what?”

“Infuriating,” he said, and met her eyes with a pained expression that knocked the breath out of Nesta. “It hurts for you to see me? It kills me to see you, but you know what? That’s on you. I wasn’t the one that started questioning everything. And you want to know what’s ironic? You’re pushing me away because you’re afraid it won’t work out. But, it’s not working now, Nesta. In pushing me away, you made what you’re worried about a reality.” He shook his head, slowly. “What the hell is the point of that?”

Nesta didn’t say anything. Her jaw locked and she refused to break his gaze, no matter how much it tortured her.

“It’s better for it to happen now rather than later,” she said, and hated herself for it the second the words left her. “It’s better for it to end before it really begins.”

Cassian chuckled, humorlessly, and shook his head. “That's bullshit and you know it. It already began, Nesta.”

He took a step toward her, and in such a small room, it left very little space between them.

Nestas breath hitched, and judging by the way Cassian’s eyes flared, he definitely noticed.

“Tell me you don’t care about me, and it’s done. We’ll pretend these past few weeks never happened, and we can move on,” he whispered, and she could feel his breath fan over her face. “Tell me this all meant nothing to you, and it’s over.”

Her eyes flashed down to his lips before meeting his own. “I can’t do that.”

Cassian wasn’t sure who moved first. If he grabbed her face or if she leaned up and pressed her lips to his, but before he knew what was happening, he had her back pressed against the store room wall. Gods, it had only been a few days, but kissing her again, the feel of her lips on his, it felt like he hadn’t been able to breathe.

Her hands were clawing at his back and he found her thighs, lifting her up to wrap her legs around his waist. He hadn’t even noticed she’d changed into a loose, sundress but thanks to her own wardrobe change, there was very little fabric between them as she let go of him to fumble with his belt buckle and jeans.

There were no words necessary, not when they both needed the other as badly as they did.

Their lips never broke, that contact remained, hungrily, needily, as Nesta pulled Cassian’s cock out and, moving the thin scrap of fabric beneath her dress aside, he pushed himself up into her.

Nesta moaned into his mouth at the feeling of him filling her. He bit her lip, and that moan deepened as he began to thrust deep inside of her, over and over again.

There was no foreplay.

Foreplay wasn’t necessary, not this time.

Two days, two nights, had been far too long when they had become so accustomed to this same ritual every night, time and time again.

Cassian’s head fell back as he fucked her, relentlessly, then he met her lustful gaze. His forehead fell against hers as he slowed his pace. With a soft, reverent curse, Cassian breathed her name.

She clung to him, the smell and taste and feel of him making her feel far more drunk than the wine or liquor had. Nesta buried her face in his neck, trying to cover the sounds tumbling from her.

He captured her lips again, knowing her body better than his own at this point, and thrust into her as hard as he could.

The bottles on the shelves rattled gently, but he didn’t care if anyone could hear them in the bar. He didn’t care if anyone caught them. All he cared about was that he was deep inside of her, listening to the quiet whimpers and moans that she couldn’t stop.

There was no way she could walk away from this.

Not just from the sex. Which, yeah, was incredible, but there was more to it than that.

Their souls were connected, which is what made the sex so mindblowingly phenomonal.

It was more than just sex.

It was something that Cassian swore no one else had ever witnessed before. Or, maybe they had. Maybe this is what it felt like when you found the person you were meant to spend forever with.

No, Nesta couldn’t walk away from this.

He swore, hoped, prayed she couldn’t.

He wanted to say those little words. Wanted to tell her, so desperately, that he loved her, but he didn’t.

He just kept saying her name over and over and over again with every thrust of his hips.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

“Nesta,” he breathed, and she cried out as her legs began to shake around him. He cursed, his fingers digging into her thighs as his body flooded with the need to explode.

As soon as her release slammed into her, he met his own, her name a groan as he spilled into her. They stayed like that for a moment, him still buried inside her, even as his seed started to drip down her legs. Thankfully, the sound of the party out front had covered any and all noises they’d made. Her breathing was still uneven as he pulled out, and he pulled that ripped hoodie from his backpack and silently used it to clean her up.

Tossing it back towards his bag, not caring if it made it inside or not, he paused in front of her, and tried to tilt her face up to his.

She refused.

He breathed, “Look at me, Nes…”

She shook her head, and damn him if those weren’t tears starting to spill down her cheeks.

He gripped her chin, forcing her eyes up to meet his. “Damn it, Nesta, talk to me. Just talk to me and tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I think you need to go,” she breathed.

He hesitated. “What?”

“You need to go,” she repeated, but there was no bite in her voice.

Cassian took her face in his hands and brought her eyes to his. “I’m not leaving. Not after that.”

“Go,” she repeated, and another tear slid free. “Go, Cass, please.”

He shook his head, fury, frustration, utter misery filling his core. He dropped his hand and stepped back. “Damn it, Nesta! What do you want?!”

“For you to leave,” she hissed.

“You’re a fucking liar,” Cassian snapped. “You say you can’t tell me that you never cared, you fuck me in a damned store room, then you ask me to leave?”

“You’re making this harder than it has to be.”

“I’m making this harder?” he asked, breathlessly, unable to stop his darkened laughter. He looked away from her and sucked in his bottom lip.

A moment passed, and Cassian refused to meet her gaze. “I don’t get it,” he said, at last. “I don’t get it. I don’t know what you want. I don’t know what you want from me.” His words were coming out rushed, frazzled. “Know what? Fine. If this is the way you want it, this is the way it is. I’ll be at Elain’s and Azriel’s tonight, and I’m taking Nyx with me. I’ll bring him by tomorrow, when Viviane is there.”

With that, he was gone.

And Nesta was left alone, her hands flying over her mouth as she sobbed, still able to feel the soft, tender, alluring feeling of his lips on hers.

[bestiesenpai]

Youtuber Sukuna pt3

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called life! I never thought youtuber sukuna would be so popular, so thank you everyone for giving me encouragement to continue this lil series. This will be the final part, but who’s to say we can’t have an OVA episode?? I smell a beach episode...or maybe a trip to an onsen? Who knows!

Part one --- part two

This had to be the stupidest thing he’d ever done. It certainly felt like it. Scrolling on Pinterest was the last thing he wanted to do, in fact it was something he openly mocked in the past, but now per your advice, he was looking at thousands of photos of home decor.

Sukuna was hesitant to admit to you that he had no furniture in his home. After seeing how well decorated and lived in your home was, it only made his shame increase at being a grown man with foldable furniture. But you took it in stride and offered to help, even making him share a Pinterest board with you so the two of you could get inspiration for a shopping trip.

That’s how he found himself at IKEA on a bright and early Saturday morning. You’d begged him to let you come shopping with him, and Sukuna was a man unable to refuse any request you made of him.

“Ah, this is going to be so exciting!” You shouted, nearly running to the carts at the front of the store. You were clearly more excited than he was, your energy seemed to know no bounds as you bounced on your heels and waited for him to trudge to the front door.

“What’s so exciting about furniture?” He grumbled, subconsciously taking the cart from your hands. Pushing into the store, Sukuna felt like he had been transported to another world. With staged living quarters that looked more real than his own home, he was at a loss for words.

“Sukuna, c’mere!” You were already ten paces ahead, standing at the entrance to one said fake home. Coming upon it, Sukuna nearly gagged at the color palette. There were bright orange tufted couches with a blue area rug and more pillows than he had owned his whole life. With white accents and gunmetal colored lamps, it looked far too much for him.

“It’s ugly.” He said, not caring about the other people around you that seemed to enjoy it.

“Really?” Taking another look around, you shrugged your shoulders and took a step back. “You’re right, it doesn’t really fit your whole vibe.”

That was definitely correct. If Sukuna had to give a name to his personal style it would be ‘who the fuck cares as long as it works’. He wasn’t one to dwell on his looks for too long, just content grabbing clothes that were easily accessible and trendy, ones that he knew would help him fit in. And that habit had bled into his furniture choice as well.

“Okay, you seemed to pin a lot of pictures that look like this-” Leaning over, he watched you scroll past picture after picture of what almost looked like the same thing, a living room with dark colored couches, a white rug and dark colored walls, almost always with a metal or dark wooden coffee table.

“Yeah, it fits me.” Wandering through the store, Sukuna glanced at an all white room with a window frame encasing a faux view of a city lit up at night. “None of this shit.” He made a vague gesture to the room, and the one following it that looked similar.

“You don’t want any bright colors at all?”

“My hair’s already pink, what more do you want?” That made you snort and giggle, and in turn made Sukuna smile.

“Okay but you can’t just have all black furniture, it’ll make your house feel like a dungeon.” Your hand came to rest on the handle of the shopping cart, dangerously close to laying on top of his. “Promise we’ll get at least a little color today? Maybe a yellow, or a pink to match your hair.”

“S-sure.” Sukuna couldn’t look at anything except for your hand. Your pinky finger was just barely touching his, almost enough that Sukuna could slide his hand under yours and interlace your fingers together.

“Ooh, what about this for your bedroom?” And just like that, you were gone. Dashing off to a display on the wall for bed sheets. “You said you only have a plain white one, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How about this? This design is really trendy right now.” You were pointing to one that was a deep navy, white grid lines crossing over to make big squares.

“I like it.”

“Awesome! Now, do you have a queen or a king bed?”

After picking out the bed sheets, Sukuna slowly opened up more to the idea of shopping. He was able to recognize pieces he’d seen on Pinterest, picking them out as things he readily liked and would enjoy looking at in his house. He was even persuaded to get a few area rugs for different places in his house, and before he knew it you had piled the basket high with things.

“Ah, today was so much fun!” You sang, bouncing in your seat on the way home from IKEA.

“Now I just need to build all this shit.” Sukuna was amazed at how much you’d convinced him to buy. He had new furniture for his bedroom, a new couch was going to be delivered, a dining table and chairs and even a new desk and chair for his office setup in the corner of his living room.

“Lemme help!” You looked far too eager to help him build, and although Sukuna wanted to tell you no - he really didn’t want you to see how he was currently living - he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to have you in his house with him, working together on something.

“Alright. Let’s stop somewhere and get food though, I’m hungry.”

One quick fast food meal that Sukuna loathed later, you were carrying things up to his apartment. He refused to let you carry the heavy things even if he could really use the help with some of the oblong boxes. But he didn’t want to risk you getting hurt, so you carried the small things.

When everything was inside the house, Sukuna watched your reaction to his place. You hadn’t made a sound when you first arrived, you were probably too busy trying to bring everything in from his car.

“Sukuna…” Scanning his apartment, your eyes landed on his abysmal furniture.

“Yeah?” He screwed his eyes shut, dreading what you had to say.

“This is totally what I expected from you.” You laughed, unpacking some of the fake plants you made him buy. “It totally fits you.” Letting out the breath he’d been holding in, Sukuna grabbed one of the boxes containing his new desk.

“Let’s get started.”

If Sukuna thought cooking with you was hard, building furniture with you was the final boss level. He had you read the instructions while he laid all the pieces out, and when you let out a whine at how many steps there were, Sukuna could have died happily right then and there.

It was easy to build the furniture he bought, but it wasn’t easy to work with you. There was no problem with your actual work, but the fact that Sukuna had to be so close to you at times, nearly hugging you when he had to hold up a piece for you to put a few screws in, it was too much to handle.

He quickly banished you to work on another project. It was your fault he kept getting distracted and forgetting what step he was on, so the only solution was to work on separate things. Plus, watching you flit around his house, hearing you change the bed sheets and lay down a new mat in the bathroom made him feel like you were newlyweds decorating your first home together.

“It looks so good in here!” It was well past dark when you finished everything. It truly did look like a brand new space, and not just in the living room. The touches you’d added, with bright pillows, fake plants and some actual art on the walls, made Sukuna happy to be home. His place finally felt like a home and not just somewhere to crash at the end of the day.

“You did a great job picking shit out, I woulda never been able to do all this.” Putting his arm around your shoulder, he gave you a squeeze.

“Are you gonna do a house tour when the couch and table come?” A house tour? Why would he do that? Knitting his brows together, Sukuna sent you a look. “C’mon, you know what a house tour is! All the popular Youtubers do them.” You giggled, wiggling your eyebrows. “And aren’t you a popular Youtuber?”

“I-” Well, you had him beat there. His subscriber count was well into the millions at this point. “Okay, I’ll do one when the rest of the stuff comes.”

“Yes!” Bouncing up and down in joy, you clapped your hands together. “I’ll help you film, I know how bad you are at angles.”

“Hey! I’ve been getting better!”

In a week, you were back at his place, more excited than him to film this video. You’d helped prepare a little script should he need it, and you were fluffing all the pillows so they looked nice on camera.

“Let’s have an entryway shot, those always look so cool!”

“Whatever you say.” Sukuna was merely a puppet on your strings, maneuvering however you saw fit. He made his hands as steady as possible getting b-roll shots of everything in advance.

“If you forget what to say, remember I made a script!” With that final warning, you were standing at the entrance to his apartment and waving your hand. “Okay, start!”

“Hi people on the internet. This is my house tour that (Y/N) is making me do.”

“Shut up!” You laughed behind the camera, trying not to shake it.

“This is my kitchen and dining room, (Y/N) picked out the table and chairs for me.” Doing a sweep over the kitchen, he transitioned to the living room. “And this is the lounge room, where (Y/N) picked out the couch and rug, and my desk stuff over there.”

“Yeah, Sukuna had no rugs in his apartment before!”

“Mhmm.” Somehow Sukuna managed to not stumble over his words, easily recalling parts of the script you had written for him. Highlighting the fake plants and cheap art on the walls, the two of you stood in the bathroom together.

“Look, it’s us!” You waved to the camera in the mirror, nudging your shoulder with Sukuna. Suddenly, the image of getting ready in the morning with you or winding down after a long day together in the bath flashed before Sukunas eyes. What would it be like to come into the bathroom while you were in the shower and join you? Give you a shoulder massage under the hot running water, or to brush his teeth and tell you to hurry up and not waste water.

“And this is the bedroom.” Quickly exiting the bathroom, Sukuna hid his blush with his hand as he entered the room.

“Hold this.” Shoving the camera in his hands, you leapt onto the bed. “This is where I sleep!” Your laugh was easy and you rolled around his bed a few times, simply having fun wrinkling the sheets.

“Uh- w-wha-” Sukuna nearly dropped the camera in shock. Seeing you in his bed, even if it was just on top of the sheets fully clothed, made his heart stop. Gripping the camera hard in his suddenly sweaty hands, Sukuna nearly tossed it to the side and joined you.

“Just kidding!” You were already climbing out of bed as soon as that thought entered his head. “But isn’t this room pretty? I picked out most of the stuff in here too.” Just like that you were back to normal, talking about some random print on the wall that he’d ordered per your suggestion.

Needless to say, Sukuna had a hard time falling asleep that night, the image of you in his bed burned into his mind like it was the only thought he’d ever have again. His imagination was going wild, and he tossed and turned all night - even after relieving some tension.

With his new desk setup, Sukuna felt motivated to edit the video as fast as he could. What you said about improving his living quarters was true; now that his place looked nice, he felt nice in turn. He even left in the part where you jumped on his bed, adding a funny break in the video like you’d shown him.

‘IT’S CONFIRMED. IT’S CONFIRMED. THEY’RE DATING’

‘sirpohdjb my ship has sailed!!’

‘I come here to see why sukunax(Y/N) is trending and it’s this bullshit?? Y’all need to get a life’

Sukuna often felt like a fool when he was with you, and sometime after as well. Even from the first comment he left on your Instagram, he knew people shipped you together and wanted you to date. He felt embarrassed more times than not, but it seemed he never learned his lesson. That scene of you on his bed had gone viral and he regretted leaving it in.

But could you blame him? You made his head spin, most of the time leaving him incapable of doing anything else beside standing in his place looking stupid. It was hard to edit the videos you did together because reliving the footage made him dizzy all over again.

(Y/N): SUKUNA. ANSWER ME ITS URGENT

It was the middle of the day in the middle of the week and Sukuna had nothing better to do than laze around and do nothing. Except now, he was texting you back with his heart suddenly pounding.

Sukuna: what?! Is something wrong where are you??

So much adrenaline was coursing through his body that he had started to shake.

(Y/N): I just got a great idea, I need to know if you’ll do a video with me!

What the fuck.

“What the fuck?” Sukuna said out loud, staring at his phone in disbelief. This is what was so urgent? Nearly sending him into an early grave for a possible video?

Sukuna: what the fuck I thought it was serious

Sukuna: I thought you were in trouble

He wasn’t upset per say, but Sukuna was definitely annoyed.

(Y/N): sorry :( i didn’t mean to scare you

Sukuna: you did more than scare me

(Y/N): I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!

Now Sukuna felt bad and it wasn’t even his fault. In all the time you’d known each other, you never had a negative interaction. He waited five minutes for you to text something, but you didn’t and it was making him anxious all over again.

Sukuna: well tell me what the idea is

(Y/N): no, it’s okay it was a stupid idea anyway

It took you another five minutes to respond, and your answer made Sukuna groan.

Sukuna: you got me all worked up and you’re just gonna leave me hanging?

He had to rectify the situation somehow.

(Y/N): I just thought...of maybe doing your makeup for a video?

Sukuna: what

(Y/N): I told you it was stupid! Just forget it

Sukuna: shut up it’s not stupid

As typing bubbles appeared and then disappeared, Sukuna could just imagine the way your cheeks puffed out indignantly.

(Y/N): here’s a link to someone else who did it with her boyfriend, they had so much fun together!

(Y/N): let me know if you wanna do it, I think it could be a lot of fun…

Sukuna only needed to look at the thumbnail to know he would say yes. The two people on the screen were very close, with the girl nearly touching her boyfriend's face with her own. They had big smiles on their faces as well, and that enticed him more.

Sukuna: I’ll do it

(Y/N): really?? That’s awesome! Come over to my place on Friday, we’ll order pizza and make a day of it!

And that’s how Sukuna found himself in your filming room, stomach full of pizza with a disgustingly cute green frog headband keeping his hair back. He’d seen this room a hundred times in the backgrounds of your videos, but now he was actually here. There were even more plushies than appeared on camera and you had a humidifier going in the corner.

“Okay now stay still, I’m going to wipe a toner on your face.” He had no idea what that meant, watching you with curious eyes pick up a bottle from the table in front of you and dab the liquid onto a cotton pad. “Usually I use my hands to apply toner, but we wanna wipe the dust off.”

With a gentle hand, you held Sukuna by the chin and swiped the cotton across his face, it’s soft chemical scent wafting into his nose. It felt nice, having you apply toner and moisturizer on his face. The most he ever applied was sunscreen, but maybe he could convince you to do his skincare for him every day.

“So today, I chose this makeup look by Beyoncés makeup artist! It’s a really popular style called ‘soft glam’.” Sukuna nodded along with you like he understood what you meant, taking a glance at the picture on your phone before you showed it to the camera. “I think Sukuna would really fit this kind of look, he is a natural beauty afterall.”

“Shut up.” He snorted, a light flush heating his cheeks.

“It’s true! There’s so many comments under your house tour video saying how good you look with the new furniture.” You spoke about the new makeup you bought for the video as you applied the products. Sukuna tried to keep up with what you were doing and saying, but he couldn’t really contribute anything to the conversation about makeup.

“Tuck your lips in so you don’t get foundation in your mouth.”

“What?” He jerked away right as you lifted the small dish you had with what he assumed was foundation.

“I don’t think you want to eat makeup, do you?” You chuckled and pat him on the cheek. “Tuck your lips in.” Doing as you asked, Sukuna flinched when you gripped the back of his head. “Try not to move too much, I want it to be even.”

As you applied the foundation and subsequently the concealer and powder, Sukuna barely moved. In fact, he barely breathed. You had leaned in far closer than you’ve ever been to him, your breath lightly fanning over his face as you worked to smooth everything out.

The hand on the back of his head dipped down to rest at the base of his neck, your body coming to lean more onto him as time went by. You were speaking, Sukuna could hear it, but he wasn’t responding. The excuse was he didn’t want to mess you up, but in truth he couldn’t find any words to say.

“Look at you!” Holding up a mirror for him, you laughed at his shocked face. “How do you like it?”

“I look so flat.” Turning his head side to side, Sukuna lifted a hand to touch his face.

“Don’t touch it, you’ll mess it up!” Snatching his hand away, you held it tightly in your grasp. Sukuna was thankful for the layer of makeup he had on now, no one could see his blush.

“What’s next? This eyeshadow shit?” He picked up a product on a whim, opening it up and staring at it. “Why’s there only two colors? Why are both of them brown?”

“That’s contour, we’ll get to that! This is the eyeshadow!”

Putting eyeshadow on Sukuna was harder than both of you thought. Not used to the feeling of the brush, he twitched every time it was swiped across his eyelid. Through plenty of trial and error, and many times of you telling him to just take a deep breath, you got through it.

“I’m gonna have to cut out so much of you flinching.” You teased, checking the camera to make sure everything was still working.

“I don’t get how you can do this shit, it’s fucking awful.” All Sukuna wanted to do was rub his eyes and face until his skin went raw.

“We aren’t even at the worst part yet: eyeliner.” Taking a seat, you lifted up a simple black pen.

“Oh god.” Hanging his head, Sukuna said a quick prayer for his eyes before straightening up and taking a deep breath.

“Sukuna, I gotta ask you something.”

“What is it?” Cracking an eye open, you were looking at him with your lip caught between your teeth.

“Can I...I need to sit in your lap to do eyeliner.” Sukuna audibly and quite loudly gasped in shock, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. “When I help my friends with eyeliner I sit in their laps! It’s just easier that way!”

“I-I uhm- okay?” He eventually forced the word out, copying your movements and turning his chair to face yours. “What uh- what should I…?”

“Sit still.” Pulling your chair flush with his, you pushed Sukuna’s legs closed and scooted up his thighs until your butt was firmly seated on him. Wrapping an arm around his shoulder, you uncapped the eyeliner. “There, now I can get started.”

Sukuna was in so much shock, he didn’t move. Even when the eyeliner tickled the inner corner of his eye, even when you moved his hands to rest near your lower back so you wouldn’t slide off, even when you did the bottom lashline, he was frozen.

If this is what heaven looked like for him, he would gladly take it and never leave. Your face was so close, he could feel it even when his eyes were closed. The soft skin of your hand held his powdered cheek gently, keeping yourself steady as you drew the lines on his eyes.

“All done.” You whispered. Sukuna opened his eyes and made a noise in the back of his throat; your face was close enough that if he tried to focus too hard he’d go cross eyed. You weren’t paying attention to his reaction at all, too focused on making sure his eyes were even.

The rest of the time went by in a blur. You’d slid off his lap after that, diving right into putting more powders on his cheeks. Swiping thick gloss on his lips is what drew him out of his stupor and into another one as you once again held his chin, swiping the corner of his mouth with your thumb when you were done.

“Sukuna, you look so good!” You said with a slight whine, showing all angles of his face off to the camera before showing him. “You have to promise when you get rich and famous and become a global celebrity that you won’t forget about me.”

“Shut up, you know I won’t.” He said with a smirk, swiping the mirror from you. “(Y/N)...I look fucking hot.” Bursting into laughter, you wiped imaginary sweat off your brow.

“Well I guess I don’t have to ask how you like it!” Patting him on the back, you got up to stretch and check the camera one last time.

“Would you fuck me, ‘cause I’d fuck me.” Sukuna said to himself, striking a few poses in the mirror and for the camera. “Hey, you watching this video you better fucking share this with all your friends. Everyone needs to see how hot I am.”

“We should have ordered you some clothes, turned you into an Instagram baddie!” You teased from behind the camera.

“Please, I don’t need fancy clothes when I’m this sexy.” Running a hand through his hair, Sukuna pointed the mirror at you. “Be honest (Y/N), you wanna date me right now. I look so hot, I bet I’m gonna have thousands of DM’s.” Sukuna’s confidence was the highest it's ever been around you. For some reason, the makeup gave him more assurance.

“Well let me know when to schedule a date with you then, I’d love to grab dinner sometime.”

“I’ll have my assistant pencil you in.” He joked, looking back at himself in the mirror. Sitting back down, you ended the video and made Sukuna wave to the camera. Not turning off the lights you used to film, you made him snap several pictures with you.

“This video was so much fun, Sukuna, thank you!” Rocking back and forth in your seat, you had a demure look while you fiddled with your phone. “And I wasn’t joking about dinner. I really like you, Sukuna.” That made Sukuna stop in his tracks, nearly throwing the mirror down in shock as he turned to look at you.

“Huh?!”

“I-I mean- I mean I like hanging out with you!” Obviously embarrassed, you leaped from your seat and began turning the filming lights off, pointedly avoiding his gaze. Both yours and Sukunas faces were burning with embarrassment, awkwardly not looking at each other.

“(Y/N)...” Sukuna half stood from his chair, forcing himself to move despite how awkward he felt. “I-”

“Let’s wash off that makeup now, I bet it’s uncomfortable.” Keeping your eyes trained on the floor, you went to the door. “I’ll show you what to use in the bathroom.”

The tension in the air was thick after that, and it remained that way for a few days after. Sukuna knew what he heard, he saw how your face looked as you said you liked him, he could hear the sincerity in your voice. But it obviously wasn’t something you were ready to say, as evident as you not texting him as much as you usually did.

When the video went up, Sukuna immediately felt butterflies in his stomach all over again watching it. Reminded of how close you were to him made him ache to have you near him, and seeing you sitting on his lap had another feeling rising in his stomach, warming him up in an embarrassing way.

He patrolled the comments as usual, but there were no mean ones that he could yell at. All of them were screaming about how the video just confirms that the two of you are dating, and surprisingly they weren’t calling out him for looking like he was in love with you.

The comments teased you this time, keen longtime viewers of yours pointing out specific timestamps where you looked embarrassed or looked like you wanted to kiss him. Sukuna checked out every single one, liking the comment for showing him that what you said earlier wasn’t a mistake.

Ever since that day, it seemed like you were promoting on Instagram and Twitter a lot more. Sukuna already had notifications turned on for all your socials and there was a definite uptick in your content posted to those platforms.

There were more sponsored posts and polls posted asking your followers for style advice, and which beauty items they preferred more. Sukuna was happy to see you got an increase in brand deals from the video you did together, a video that had now easily reached five million views and counting. He congratulated you whenever he saw a sponsored post, sending you cute little emojis along with the praise.

All week you had been hinting that there was a big announcement coming, a major event in your life that you were so excited to share with everyone. Sukuna, along with all your other followers, ate up all the crumbs you left throughout the week. Many suspected you were going to go work for a designer label, while others assumed you’d announce a sudden marriage.

(Y/N): Sukuna, check Instagram!

You texted him in the evening on Friday, but he didn’t need the update. He was already on your page when the post was dropped, waiting impatiently for the picture to load.

“A TV show, huh?” As he read the promo photo, he smiled. Appearing on a TV show was a big opportunity for you, one that was sure to lead to many more. Your role wasn’t stated in the photo, but your promo picture was a professional one no doubt taken at a studio.

“Wait, what?” When Sukuna got to the caption, he took a pause. Why were you going on a dating show? He read the words over and over, hoping for a different outcome each time. But there was no denying you’d be going on a dating show.

Checking out the show's page, Sukuna let out a groan. All the male contestants were hot and not even he could deny it. Some had muscles like he did, others were more unconventionally attractive.

Sukuna: you’re going on a dating show?

It took him a while to text you back. In fact, it took nearly thirty minutes for him to text you. Sukuna had gone through all five stages of grief several times, coming back to being in denial over and over again.

Dragging his feet to his kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of wine that one of his rich clients at the gym gifted him. Popping the cork, he collapsed onto his couch and took a long drink from the bottle.

(Y/N): yeah, I’m super nervous!

Sukuna: I bet

Oh, did he fucking bet. He’d gone through all the male contestants' Instagram pages, trying to talk them down in an attempt to lessen the blow that he could potentially lose you to one of them. Why did he have to wait so long to confess to you? Now the chance was gone, possibly forever.

(Y/N): what do you think about the show? I was kind of scared to take the deal

You didn’t want to know how he really felt.

Sukuna: it’s a great opportunity, great for exposure and it’s a lot of money

(Y/N): that’s true!! I’ll have to treat you to dinner with my first TV check!

Just great, a chance for you to gush about whoever you met on the dating show. Taking another long drink from the bottle, Sukuna crumpled even more into his couch. Back were the stages of grief, each emotion washing over him until he mustered up the courage to do something about it.

“Hello?” You answered the phone, confused as to why Sukuna called you instead of replying to your messages.

“(Y/N).” Sukuna said your name firmly, honing in on a spot in the ceiling. Swallowing around a growing lump in his throat, Sukuna forced the next words out. “I like you. I-I really, really like you.”

“What?” He could hear you gasp over the phone.

“I know, what kind of asshole confesses to you when you’re about to go on a TV dating show?” He chuckled, taking a deep breath. “But it’s true. I wanna be your boyfriend, (Y/N). I know it’s too late to back out of the show but-”

“Sukuna-”

“No, let me say this. I know it’s too late to back out, and-”

“Sukuna!”

“And I don’t want to hold you back from finding someone better suited-”

“Sukuna!”

“Better suited for you than me. I’m just a dumb, muscled up chump that-”

“Sukuna I’m a stylist, not a contestant!” You were finally able to get a word in, face flushed from the sudden onslaught of emotions going through you. Sukuna was silent on the other end, mouth hanging open as he processed the words.

“Y-you’re a...a stylist? So you won’t be dating any of them?” He whispered after a few moments, the shock starting to wear off and being replaced with humiliation.

“Yeah, I’ll be on the styling team.” Your voice also dropped to a whisper, the weight of his words beginning to settle down on the both of you.

“Oh god.” Putting the bottle down, Sukuna slapped himself in the forehead. He had never felt like a bigger idiot than in this moment. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, just- just forget it.”

“No.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t want to forget it. I...I want you to be my boyfriend too, Sukuna.” There was a pregnant pause, and you could practically hear Sukuna’s brain working overdrive.

“Let’s go out on a date!” He shouted, pushing himself off the couch and to a shaky stand. “I’m free whenever, let’s go on a date!” The alcohol was definitely affecting him more than he first thought, and Sukuna fell back down onto the couch.

“Really? Okay, how about tomorrow? That’s like the only day with good weather for the rest of the week.”

“I’ll pick you up at noon.”

Sleeping restlessly through the night, Sukuna woke up way earlier than his alarm. Taking an obscene amount of time getting ready, he was still early to your house. Taking a lap around the block, he went to a flower shop and bought you a handful of flowers.

“Hi.” Your voice was soft, almost meek as you entered his car.

“Hey. I got you these.” Handing you the flowers, Sukuna bit his lip nervously.

“That’s so sweet, thank you!” Gently hugging them to your chest, your nerves began to melt away and you smiled, making Sukuna smile as well.

Sukuna once again had you pick the cafe you were going to. This one was in a bustling downtown street, not in the middle of the countryside, and as you two walked down the street there were couples passing you left and right.

Snagging an outdoor seat, Sukuna went inside to order for you. This cafe, unlike the last, actually served coffee and Sukuna was quick to get a large cup of it. Buying a few croissants cutely decorated with various creams, he went back outside.

“Say, you’re really cute, why don’t we sit and chat for a bit?” An unknown man was standing near your table, and Sukuna caught the tail end of his sentence.

“N-no, I’m good.” Your eyes were glued to your lap, obviously uncomfortable with the attention you were receiving.

“Aw, really? A pretty face like yours shouldn’t be all alone!” The man had a sleazy grin on his face, visibly eyeing you up in a salacious manner. “My name is-”

“Baby, who’s this guy?” Sukuna had had enough. Stepping right up to the table, he nearly slammed the tray in his hands down on the table. Your head shot up, relief flashing across your face.

“Who are you?” The man scoffed, curling his lip in disgust.

“I’m their boyfriend. Who the fuck are you?” Puffing up his chest a little bit, Sukuna stared the man down.

“Boyfriend? They didn’t say anything about having a boyfriend.” The man attempted to look at you again, but Sukuna beat him to it and caught your eye instead.

“Geez baby, I know we had that fight before we came but I’m hurt! If I get rid of this creep, will you call me your boyfriend again?” Laying a heavy hand on the man's shoulder, Sukuna gave it a squeeze.

“Y-you’re always gonna be my boyfriend, dummy.”

“That just warms my heart!” Sighing loudly, Sukuna gave the man a not so subtle push away from the table. “Well, you heard ‘em. Get lost, you worthless sack of shit.” Grumbling, the man walked away and Sukuna took his rightful seat next to you.

“Thank you.” Immediately, you latched onto him, squeezing his arm in a tight hug as you pressed your face into his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” Wrapping you up more tightly in a hug, Sukuna pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I would have beat him up if you wanted. Men are fucking disgusting.”

“Sukuna, you are a man.” You laughed lightly.

“Exactly my point.” Rubbing a hand on your back, Sukuna picked up one of the croissants. “I hope you like these because I can already tell it’ll be too sweet for me.” You laughed again and sat up, keeping your face close to his.

“I have something sweet for you too, I hope you like it.”

“What is it?” Quirking a brow, Sukuna jumped when you planted your lips on his. The kiss didn’t last long and the taste of your lip balm and feel of your lips was permanently engraved into Sukunas brain.

“There.” Your cheeks were absolutely on fire, shame rolling off of you in waves at having your first kiss in a crowded cafe on a busy day in the city. It wasn’t even a particularly romantic setting, but something spurred you to do it.

“W-what the hell! You can’t just do that!” Sukuna gasped, his own cheeks burning a deep, scalding red. “You gotta warn a guy first!” His dramatics were drawing attention from the other patrons, making the situation even worse.

“Sshh, you’re being too loud!”

“Like I care! Kiss me again, I’m ready this time!” Grabbing you by the shoulders, Sukuna tried to kiss you.

“W-wait, there’s people watching!”

“I don’t give a fuck who’s watching!” Grabbing your chin, Sukuna kissed you much firmer than when you kissed him. It lasted longer as well, bordering on too long for what is accepted in public. “There.” Pulling away slightly out of breath, Sukuna sat back in his seat and took a sip of his coffee.

“You’re so embarrassing.” You whined, hiding your face in your hands and hitting Sukuna with your head.

“All I’m hearing is how great of a boyfriend I am.”

“No you’re not.” You countered, getting wrapped in a side hug by Sukuna.

“It’s debatable.” Picking up the croissant he dropped, Sukuna took a bite. “Hm, this is sweet but not as sweet as that kiss you gave me.”

“Sukuna!”

[scapegrace74-blog]

New Ways of Turning Into Stone, Chapter 7

A/N  For anyone waiting patiently for this chapter, I apologize.  Somewhere in the midst of writing this story, I fell out of love with it, making it very hard to find the inspiration to finish. I’m too stubborn to abandon it, though, so here is the final chapter.  The good news is the angst fest is over, for the most part.  Slight reference to child trafficking in the past.  Thanks to everyone who read and interacted with this story!  This final chapter is entitled A Dragonfly in Amber.

The whole story can be found on my A03 page.

Eighteen Months Later

The breeze off the firth was picking up, and Claire wished she’d grabbed a  jumper before leaving her flat.  She spent a lot of time these days looking back at the million decisions that made up a life, aware of their path as though they were footprints visible to the eye.  Where once missteps would have inspired judgement or shame, she could now chart their passage with a certain measure of peace.

A rare free Thursday brought her to a seasonal market in what was otherwise a car park overlooking Edinburgh Castle.  With no specific objective in mind, she wandered the stalls of fresh produce and locally made crafts, meandering but purposeful.  A jar of raw honey and a half-dozen blueberry scones made their way into her tote bag before she stopped at a store selling beautifully woven woolen goods, thinking that she could perhaps invest in a shawl.

Lifting the various offerings from where they were displayed, something caught her eye.  Beneath the many-patterned pile of wool stood a beautiful wooden chest, its heft and patina speaking of its craftsmanship.   It had been painted in a rusted umber, the shape of a dragonfly elegantly carved into its solid lid.

“Tis lovely, is it no’?” a soft lilt startled her from her trance.

“Yes, very.  Is it for sale?”  She had no idea why she’d asked.  Her flat was crowded enough as it was and frivolous purchases no longer within her budget.

“Alas, no.  Twas an anniversary gift from my man.”  Perhaps seeing the disappointment register on her face, the woman added, “I can give ye the card o’ the man who made it, at least.  Ye’re no’ the first tae have admired his work.”

Claire’s hands shook slightly as the shopkeeper sought out the card, an eerie sense of premonition settling over her.  Sure enough, the familiar names leapt into relief as she accepted the woman’s offering:

Lallybroch Furniture Design

James Fraser, Proprietor

***

The afternoon and evening passed in a blur of obligations and routine.  It was only as she settled into the peace of her own bedroom that Claire allowed her thoughts to return to the business card tucked safely into her wallet.  

She’d known Jamie was still in the city.  While she’d resisted the urge to seek him out a thousand times, she couldn’t stop herself from searching his name on the Internet.  A harmless indulgence, she rationalized, and one that assured her that he was well, his business going from strength to strength. Despite the capitol’s tight-knit community, however, their paths had never crossed.  Until now.

Was it a sign?  Long Ago Claire paid no heed to such foolishness, but that was before a chance encounter spun her life one hundred and eighty degrees, sending her down a brand new path.  Now she accepted these memos from the universe with humility.  Tomorrow, she would go looking for Jamie Fraser.

***

Jamie heard the jingle of the bells above the door, even over the mechanical whirr of his sander.  Unbending and blowing a sweaty curl off his forehead, he admired the intricate scrollwork of the custom hutch that was his latest commission.  It still amazed him to watch his visions take shape before his eyes.  If life hadn’t slapped him hard across the face, knocking him far off course, he might have spent the rest of his days unaware of the gift that resided between his hands.

“Took ye long enough, Geordie,” he called out to the footsteps approaching from the door.  “Where’d ye go fer the varnish, Glasgow?”

There was a pause, and an eerie sense of premonition settled over him.  Today was going to be the day.

“It’s not Geordie, it’s me.  Claire.”  He’d thought of her voice each day for the past eighteen months, and yet he hadn’t been able to summon its exact timbre: sonorous, precise, with a smoky finish like well-aged whisky.

“Claire,” he replied to the universe, summoning her by name before he even turned around.

Sawdust motes danced in a sunbeam descending from a clerestory window, illuminating the mahogany in her curls.  She was everything he remembered, and so much more.  The nacre of her skin, now dusted with cinnamon freckles.  The topaz of her eyes less fierce, more open, and overwhelmingly anxious.  The tight line of her jaw was less defined, her once whippet-thin figure filled out into plush curves.  Overall the impression was one of softness, of willing vulnerability.

“The door was open,” she explained needlessly, her eyes drinking him in hungrily.  He wondered what changes she read on his surface.

“It’s... uhhh...” his voice wobbled painfully, “it’s good tae see ye, Sassenach.  How have ye been?”

He hadn’t trusted himself to seek her out since Maggie’s death, understanding that they both needed time to heal.  It didn’t stop him from zeroing in on every glimpse of brown curls, nor from reading wedding announcements with an invisible fist gripping his throat.  If it was meant to be, he counselled himself, they would find one another when the time was right.  And now she was here, standing in his workshop and more lovely than his zealous imaginings.

“Good,” she replied, eyes meeting and then sheering away from his gaze.  “Really good.  Busy.”  She was gripping the strap of her handbag like a parachute cord, and he couldn’t help glancing at her left hand, selfishly relieved to note it was still bare.

“I, ummm, I saw one of your pieces.  At the market yesterday.  Not for sale, of course.  The woman offered me your card, so I thought, you know, that I might...  You’re really very talented, Jamie,” she prattled nervously.

He blushed, delighted by her praise.  “I thank ye, Claire.”  To taste her name in his mouth, so long forbidden, was intoxicating.  He would never tire of saying it.

“And yer work?  Tis Friday.  Are ye taking a well-deserved day off?”

“Oh, no.  I’m not practicing anymore, Jamie.”

He froze, horrified.  Of all the scenarios he’d played out in his mind, he’d never imagined her anything but a doctor. It was too much a part of who she was.  A familiar sense of oppressive responsibility crept over him.  If he’d somehow caused this to happen...

“Sassenach, no...” he whispered.

To his utter confusion, she laughed, merry and bright as the bells that had announced her return to his life.

“It’s alright, truly.  I, well, a lot has changed since last year,” she explained, a glimmer of something coy transforming her face.  His wame sunk into his feet.

“Ye’ve met someone.”   A statement of fact.  Punishment for wishing for something that wasn’t meant to be.

Her spritely laugh rang out again, increasing his pain.  He felt the old, habitual hardening around his heart, and fought to keep his breath steady.  No matter how much it hurt, he owed it to Claire to listen to her joy.

“In a manner of speaking.  His name is Fergus, and he’s eight years old.”

Startled, he stared into her upturned face, trying to read the truth in her features.  A hand, delicate but strong, took his own.  He held onto it like a lifeline as she told her unlikely tale.

Shortly after their last meeting, Claire had been walking through Grassmarket when she’d been jostled by a running figure.  It was only upon righting herself that she realized she was without her phone.   Giving chase, she eventually cornered the thief down a blind alley, only to realize that it was a young boy, unkempt and malnourished.

Rather than turn the pickpocket in, Claire had negotiated an exchange: her phone for a four-course meal and the story of how a boy of his age, with a heavy French accent no less, had come to live on the streets of Edinburgh.

“He was trafficked, Jamie.  A group in Paris were keeping him and other orphans in a brothel.  When they came to transport them, Fergus escaped.  He hid in a lorry, and this is where it brought him.  He had no coat, no money, hardly any English, but he’d been surviving on his wits for six weeks before I found him.  I can’t bear to think what might have happened to him had we not crossed paths that winter’s day.”

“Christ,” he swore, thinking of his own nephew, and what he wouldn’t give to protect the lad’s innocence.

Claire went on to describe the painstaking process of reporting Fergus, whose real name was Claudel, to the authorities without allowing him to be deported back to France and into the waiting hands of the very people he had escaped.

“There was no formal steps to follow, no real resources I could rely on.  I ended up filing for adoption, because it was the only way to keep him safe.  In the beginning, he needed all my attention.  He had no formal schooling and had to learn English in a hurry.  He suffered from terrible nightmares.  I transferred all my patients, shut down the office, but I assumed it was only temporary, until he felt more secure and could go to school with other kids his age.  But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Fergus isn’t the only trafficked child in Scotland.  I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do whatever I could to protect every one of them.  So I quit.  I’d made some contacts at ECPAT in London, trying to sort out the mess with Fergus’ immigration paperwork.   I called them up and offered my services on a part-time basis.  A former pediatrician with experience in grief counselling.  They couldn’t accept fast enough.  So now, when I’m not busy being Fergus’ mom, I’m the executive director of ECPAT here in Scotland.”

“Christ,” he repeated.  “Sassenach, I’m...  God, ye’re an amazing woman.”

It was her turn to blush, glancing down to notice that their hands were still clasped, fingers woven together like thirsty roots.  They were standing toe to toe, breathing in harmony.  Jamie smelled of pine, a sharp sweetness that seemed to cling to his body.  She dared a look upwards and found his gaze locked on her mouth.  Oceans stormed in the depths of his eyes.

“You’ve got a little...” she reached for his jaw, “...a little something, right here...”  Before she could dislodge the fleck of sawdust trapped in his auburn stubble, Jamie’s whole body surged forward, their noses practically bumping.

“Sassenach...” he beseeched.

“Yes?”  Wispy, fluttering wings of hope surrounded her.

“I’ve bided as long as I can.  May I please, for the love of all tha’s holy, finally kiss ye?”

A tiny nod, a murmured assent, then their lips took up the conversation that had begun so many months before.  There, in a dusty workshop at eleven o’clock on a Friday morning, the last obstacle that stood between them came crashing to the ground.  In its place came warmth and certainty, a candleflame of cherished possibility. 

[moonbaby26]

(gif from Jason Passaro’s youtube edit here)

Title: One Shitty Friday Night (Part 2) *contains some smut*

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Set after the events of Deadpool 2, this is the conclusion from the previous part here. After your semi-disastrous double date night, you, Peter, Kitty, and Colossus head home with Deadpool and Russell in tow to face Logan, Charles, and Erik back at the mansion. You also get some well earned alone time with Peter at last, only to go back to chaos the following morning with Peter confronting Gambit, and Deadpool popping back in.

Warnings: It’s still a bit of Deadpool and all that entails, but only at the beginning and end. *In this part there actually is some Peter x Reader sex.* But you’re welcome to skip over that if uncomfortable with it. I clearly mark in red before and after any smut within the story so readers can choose what to read and still enjoy just the fluff and character interactions before and after if wanted. ❤️

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

——————————

The ride home was surprisingly quiet actually. Colossus driving, with Kitty sitting shotgun in the front with him. Russell was in the second row seat behind Kitty, but the seat that normally would have been behind the driver had been taken out specifically with Colossus in mind to let his seat sit further back with his large height.

That just left the third row of three seats. With Peter still not in the best mood, you’d chosen to sit between him and Wade. But they’d mostly just been snacking on the cannolis the whole way home rather than saying or doing much of anything else.

You’d only eaten two in all, hungry but not wanting a stomach ache from the sweetness. You’d felt your own phone buzzing in your pocket most the way home too, but you refused to look at it yet. You could only imagine which friends were trying to call or text you about whatever was being said on TV and the internet now.

Kitty only told you that she’d messaged Xavier to tell him you were all on your way home. But you weren’t sure if she’d warned him about Deadpool and Russell coming with you. Or if she’d kept her phone out at all either afterward, afraid of what the Professor might say in response.

It could have been worse was what you kept thinking. It had been worse actually. Deadpool had once killed an Essex House staff member on live TV, while wearing an X-Men shirt, and with Colossus and Negasonic Teenage Warhead also in camera view. But, given that that trouble had already come from him once, would the Professor be harder on you all this second time around? Would he still think you handled the situation as well as you could have or not?

By the time you felt the familiar turns up the long drive to the mansion, you realized that the period for anxiety was over. Whatever would be would now be.

Colossus had decided to park right in front the main entry doors instead of pulling down into the garage. Mostly just in case Wade’s welcome wasn’t a warm one. He could step right back outside if needed instead of already being in the depths of the compound.

Russell was actually the first one to speak though as you all climbed out the vehicle in front of the well manicured landscaping and dim accent lights.

“Holy shit, he is a rich son of a bitch.” The boy spoke, gaping a little at the sheer size of the mansion and the number of floors still above you.

“The cursing, Russell, please.” Colossus reminded. “There are younger children who live here.”

“Though they should be in bed,” Kitty responded, albeit sounding doubtful herself as she started up the entryway stairs.

They might normally be yes, but probably not if the rumor mill of tonight’s excitement was already burning through the place.

“Well I’ve actually never seen more than three people anytime I’ve been here. So there’s that,” Deadpool quipped.

“Yeah well, we were probably busy.” Peter retorted.

“Oh? Well yeah, maybe you were.” Wade replied, eyeing Peter. “Here’s a thought though, Peters. Maybe next time Ryan Murphy calls, just say N-O. No means no, right?”

“What-” Peter started to ask, but then thought better of it. It really wasn’t worth trying to piece together anything else Deadpool said into something more sensical right now.

As Kitty pushed open the doors and you all strode into the large foyer in front the main staircases, you weren’t sure what would be awaiting you. But the immediate, utterly ecstatic squeal that erupted from Deadpool next had all of you jumping before a gruff voice responded from up on the second floor landing.

“You have to be goddamn shitting me. You actually let that idiot follow you home?” Logan responded, the odd mix of disgust and annoyance so clear on his unshaven face.

“I thought you said no cursing here,” Russell complained.

“Logan is sometimes another matter...” Colossus attempted to answer with some neutrality, even as Deadpool was now bounding up the stairs towards the older man.

“Finally! Finally! I don’t even care if it’s just Tumblr and like two people and their FBI agents will see this! Beggars can’t be choosers! I missed you so much, papa bear!”

You stood there staring in complete disbelief, Deadpool looking as if he was actually going to try and hug the Wolverine.

You were likely all of the same mindset about the only way this could possibly play out, but Colossus was the only one to speak, pleading really. “Please, Logan! No blood on the inside of the house! You know how badly it would stain the floors!”

But Wolverine only growled, claws already aimed as Wade stopped just millimeters short, the metal tips now grazing the mercenary’s throat. “You heard him, Wade. Don’t give me a reason and you won’t be having to regrow limbs tonight.” Logan replied.

“You salty old bastard. We haven’t even seen each other in ages, you won’t return my calls, and this is the welcome I get?” Deadpool pouted.

“You’re bad luck walking, Wade. These kids don’t need you hanging around here for long.”

“Oh, and you’re such a tasteful role model. Grandpappy Wolverine teaching a class on cigar chain smoking, and stabbing your problems away this semester?”

“The fuck are you on about? How many people have you killed this month alone, Wade?”

“Twenty four and a half, thank you. And ask me how many of those never killed or raped someone themselves. How many the police never would have touched. What do you think I’ll say there?”

“Reason it all you want, bub. You’re just a wack job vigilante.”

“This could go on all night.” Kitty sighed. “Logan! Where is everyone else? We brought Russell with us, we need to take him to the Professor.”

Wolverine only softened slightly at Kitty’s voice, answering her. “Charles put in a curfew tonight, all students back to their rooms. Wade’s not allowed past the entrance, but the Professor is waiting for you in his study.”

“Discrimination.” Wade huffed, yet then posed in a mock seductive look. “But if you wanted me alone tough guy, all you’d have to do is ask.”

“Please do not make a mess, Logan. We will be back to collect him as soon as we can.” Colossus said with some concern, you all just starting towards the hallway that lead to Xavier’s office.

“No promises.” Logan called back before continuing, louder then so you could hear him even as you walked away. “And hey, Peter-”

“Yeah?” He answered back from your side, glancing over his shoulder at Logan.

“Your dad’s here, kid.”

Peter paused in his tracks, staring for a moment. You could see the emotions process through him before he took a deep breath. There was nothing more that any of you could do though. He just lifted a hand up in a wave of acknowledgement, finally starting to walk again. “Thanks for the warning,”

Even in all that had happened through the years though, going to see Xavier like this still brought back an odd sense of childhood. And that little feeling of dread to be honest. Not because you really thought he would be angry, but because you worried that you may have disappointed him. Which would have always been the worse of the two options in your own mind.

Colossus was the one to slide the ornate pocket doors open, you all trailing in behind him as you entered the study.

It was warm inside, the fireplace crackling and dancing. That fire was the only light besides a couple small table lamps and a TV now on mute, but still running the late night news.

You were but weren’t surprised to see Erik sitting there as well, a short glass of what looked like scotch in one hand. There was a chessboard as well, positioned between himself and Charles on a little table, the pieces clearly still in play.

As the TV flickered again though, you glanced back to it reflexively. You saw an exterior shot of the restaurant you’d been at only a short time earlier, now with police tape all around. It cut to a video of Colossus walking up to police cars with Giovanni in hand, but then just as quickly the flashing red and blue lights changed to the white flashes of cameras and yourself and Peter talking before the sudden kiss. You only looked to the floor in renewed embarrassment then, choosing not to read the ticker captions currently scrolling beneath the now looping video.

“Hey, Dad...” Peter said somewhat unsure, but still the first to speak. He’d shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket now, as he often did when nervous. “Didn’t know you were in town.”

“Peter.” Erik answered plainly though, taking a sip of his drink before setting it back down. “I only arrived this afternoon. I had been hoping for a quiet evening.” He looked briefly towards the television, but then coolly back to Peter. “But here we are aren’t we?”

“Erik,” Xavier warned lightly though, no doubt sensing Peter tense further at the tone.

“They aren’t children anymore, Charles.” Erik responded sharply. “And it never should have been allowed to get to this point. I told you from the beginning that they should have worn masks, they should have been discreet. Trying to craft this foolhardy public image of the new X-Men as some celebrity clean up crew for humans’ mistakes, it’s making a mockery of us all.”

The exasperated breath that came out of the Professor next told you that this was far from the first time that this subject had come up as a point of contention between the two. But the rest of you were quite helpless whenever Erik and Charles would start to argue in front of you.

Xavier countered, “As I have also said before, Erik, we all knew there would be some negatives from moving more into the public eye with our team. But how can mutant kind ever be accepted for who we really are if we only kept slinking in the shadows for the rest of our lives? It’s no different than Raven showing herself on camera all those years ago. You know what an impact that made on the youth in our community then.”

“But the humans are fickle. The magazines and the talk shows only jest at you now. What happens when they turn on you? When my son’s face is only on a wanted list in a database, Charles? What then?”

The anger and protectiveness flaring up in Erik’s tone only made the room even more uncomfortable, yet you didn’t find yourself surprised. Peter’s relationship with his father would never be an easy one, but you knew in the end that Erik did feel a sense of responsibility towards his progeny. And hell have mercy on anyone who did ever truly harm Wanda, Peter, or Lorna and word of it get back to their father.

Charles remained patient though, likely understanding those paternal emotions all too well himself. The Professor treated you all as well as his own after all. “The ones that wish to harm us already knew who we were, Erik. They don’t need to pick up that gossip drivel to find us. We protect ourselves by staying together, as we always have. They want us, then they’ll have to face us all. And Lord knows even gods have tried.”

Erik frowned, and for a moment you wondered if Xavier was saying something more to him telepathically. Something to make him finally quiet or at least agree to postpone the argument’s continuation for later in private.

Regardless of whether your instincts were correct or not on that, their conversation did end abruptly then. Charles switched to a warmer, but still slightly tired tone as he looked back to the rest of you. “Well, I know you’re all ready for tonight to be over. I won’t keep you much longer. Kitty, if you could make sure that weapon you confiscated ends up locked in Hank’s lab tonight, we’ll see about it later. Given that those men would not need something so extravagant just to dispose of other humans, I’m certain it was developed or at least purchased with our kind in mind. We will learn what we can.”

She nodded in agreement before he then turned his attention to the, to this point, uncharacteristically silent Russell with a kind look. “And Russell, I appreciate you deciding to give us a second chance. You’re welcome to stay of course. Did you still wish to speak to me? I know it’s late. Don’t feel obligated to stay and talk if this is all a bit much right now. We can always go over more about the school in the morning.”

“Um...” The boy blinked, not quite ready it seemed for any of the focus to be back on him so soon. And it was only then that you realized it was Erik that Russell kept staring at as he tried to formulate a real response. Actually Erik and briefly back to Peter, that tell tale look on the boy’s face that you’d seen so many times before when people realized who Peter really was, who his father was. Russell was maybe even regretting picking on Peter earlier now.

Charles certainly hadn’t missed that though. Surely sensing all the boy’s thoughts and feelings now as he continued. “It’s alright, Russell. Yes, Magneto does stop in here from time to time. We’re old friends. Yet I hardly think you should be so concerned with him when you’ve already gotten on quite well with my stepbrother haven’t you?” Xavier was actually smiling then. “To get on the Juggernaut’s good side, if even briefly, is quite impressive I must say.”

That did seem to finally break the ice a little then as Russell looked back to Charles. “Yeah, I... I needed a prison friend. A big one.”

“He is that, certainly,” The Professor responded. “Yet to answer the other questions still running through your mind -and forgive me to read you- but of course you can absolutely train with us to better learn to control your fire powers if you’d like. And yes, you may also have a television in your room. I think that’s a reasonable request after living in less than desirable conditions with Wade for this long.”

“Yeah, there were rats and the old blind lady sells cocaine.” Russell answered so matter of factly that the rest of you, minus Charles who was evidently now fully aware of Russell’s recent memories, all just stared.

“Despite his, ah, unique flaws, I can say that Wade would never willingly let anything happen to you.” Xavier just continued. “But yes, it would likely be best to give you a bit more sanitary and less illegal living conditions. And of course this would all be voluntary, if you find you don’t like it here after all, you’re always free to go as well.”

“Cool. Yeah.” Russell agreed. Though not really sure what else to say.

“Wonderful,” Charles just looked back to Colossus and Kitty then. “Can you two please see Russell to one of the empty rooms so he may pick one out to sleep tonight? And please let Wade know of his decision to stay for now.”

Colossus spoke up though before they all walked out together, “And am I sending Wade home as well? I do not think he and Logan can be peaceable for a whole night in the same building.”

“Agreed. Like oil and water there. I would prefer not to have to repair cerebro again either, as we’d had to from his last stay with us.” Xavier looked apologetic though to Colossus. “Is it too much to ask that you offer him a ride back home tonight?”

But Russell just cut in before Colossus could respond. “Nah, Wade already called a cab to meet him back here before we left town. You can just dump him outside now. Let him be their problem.” But even Russell knew to elaborate a little. “And it’s not some random person he might scare off. It’s his friend Dopinder. But you might want to give him some money first. He never pays the guy. Wade doesn’t carry a wallet. Tightwad.”

Kitty sighed. “I’ll cover it. I have cash. Never got to eat or pay for our dinner after all.” She glanced to you and Peter briefly. “Maybe next weekend?”

“We can try,” You offered quietly.

She smiled, understanding that sentiment that you all might want to lay low for awhile after this fiasco of an evening. “I guess we’ll see how we feel. Night, guys.”

“Night.” You and Peter responded to her in unison.

When Kitty, Colossus, and Russell had left the room, you happened to glance back at the TV, though you were at least a little relieved to see the news had finally gone off and by the captions it was just some talk show host joking about whatever a bigger idiot politician had done now.

But Peter’s voice brought your attention back to him.

“Are we free to go too?” He asked cautiously, maybe even more uneasy now that it was just the four of you as he looked to his father and Charles.

The two older men exchanged a glance of their own as silence hung for a moment.

Erik sighed eventually though to break it. His voice serious, but lacking it’s usual coldness. “You can’t keep diving into everything headfirst, Peter. You’re going to get yourself killed.” He seemed to be studying his son’s face a moment. “And what are those bruises even from?”

“I, uh...fell down a flight of stairs.” Peter answered, taking a breath as if to steel himself for further scolding, obviously that admission only adding to his father’s point.

Yet you interjected before Erik could respond. Before you could help yourself, as it wasn’t fair for Peter to be singled out here. “I’m the one that told him to go to the basement.” Normally Scott was mission leader, or maybe Ororo. This wasn’t a role you were used to, but you’d take responsibility where it was due tonight. “I thought it would be safest for him to go first, to disarm them all, but-”

“But you sent him straight into an ambush.” Erik countered. And when his gaze shifted to you with those words, it was clear that even after this long, it still had an effect. An intimidation factor that you could only hope didn’t show through in your expression.

But it was Charles that came to your defense. “That’s a gross over simplification, Erik. Peter had already examined the area on his own accord moments before to no harm. There would have been no reason for them to think he couldn’t return to it.”

For Xavier to already know that level of detail, meant he’d already searched you and Peter’s minds tonight as well, just as he had Kitty about the gun. Which honestly was okay with you as it meant you wouldn’t have to really explain everything that had happened and risk making things sound even worse.

But Erik was still staring at you both, looking displeased.

Peter shifted, uncomfortable with the quiet. “Look, if you’re going to yell at me for what I did on TV, then just get it over with. It wasn’t (Y/N)’s fault. I was the one that made us stay as long as we did, and I was the one that got pissed off at what those guys were saying. It’s always like no one can believe we’re still together. Like I have to keep proving it.”

That admission actually did catch you off guard. Especially to be said here in front his father, and well in all honesty sort of stepfather that Charles was for all intents and purposes. You immediately felt you should say something, but were even further stunned when Erik beat you to it.

“Peter, for God’s sake. You may have problems, but I assure you that (Y/N) is not one of them. Quit being so dense, boy.”

You blinked, unsure if you’d actually just received a rare semi-compliment from Erik.

But Peter just rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the pep talk, Dad. Yes, I know that. I’m saying how do I make everyone else know that? Some fatherly wisdom would be great right now.”

Erik frowned, looking annoyed at Peter’s reaction. “I’ve told you before, I can’t teach you self-confidence, no one can. Though I’ve always been willing to fight for what I wanted. That’s a start.”

“Erik, no.” Charles interrupted. “Peter, we all question ourselves from time to time. But when it comes to relationships, nothing going on on the outside will matter as long as you focus on keeping things strong between the two of you. Weakness there is the only way those outside troubles can get in to break things down.”

“Oh typical, Charles. So it’s still turn the other cheek to everything else then? Pacifism is not how love is won.” Erik replied, now staring back at Xavier.

“Love is not a thing to be fought over, Erik, and neither is (Y/N). People are not trophies to be claimed.” The Professor responded, meeting Erik’s gaze easily.

“Okayyyy,” Peter said, glancing to you and the no doubt really uncomfortable expression on your face now. “I think we’re just going to go to bed now.” His voice was getting a little quicker as he touched your arm as if to usher you out with him. “We’ll be more careful next time, we learned our lesson, so sincerely sorry and humbled, good nigh-”

“Peter.” Erik called back though before you could both reach the doorway.

Peter looked back reluctantly, only to see Erik now holding up a phone.

“Do at least message your sisters tonight to tell them you’re alright. As refreshing as it is to be receiving so many calls from them this evening, it’s only you they wish to speak to.”

“Uh, sure,” Peter offered, a little surprised. “I haven’t even looked at my phone. I will. Night!”

“Good night.” You also managed, speaking back at least politely to the two men just before Peter hurried you out into the hallway.

——————————

You’d both chosen to take one of the other halls afterward, as to avoid the front foyer and any drama that may still be occurring there if Wade and Logan were still facing off. There was another set of stairs at the back of the house, and it’d been a real relief not to run into anyone else on the way as you took them up to your floor.

By the time you finally got to your bedroom, you didn’t bother to turn on the ceiling light, just switching on the lamp at your bedside end table as you sat down on the bed. You pulled off your shoes, and heard Peter’s jacket already hitting the floor before his own weight hit the bed, making you bounce slightly.

“Ugh,” He said, already barefoot and stretched out behind you laying on his back. “That was awkward right?”

“What part of the night specifically?” You questioned, throwing off your own coat into a then indiscernible pile in the darkness outside of the lamp light. Normally you were the one picking up after Peter, but you weren’t in the mood to hang up or fold anything tonight.

“Good point,” He conceded. “But I was mainly thinking of Dad and Charles. Sorry to drag you into that.”

Yeah, that had been pretty weird. “Well, Xavier was just trying to help. And I think your Dad was too...in his own way. I guess.” There wasn’t a whole lot you could add to that. Peter’s insecurities could flare up from time to time still, but he’d actually gotten a little better over the years. At some point he had finally realized you really were going to stick around. It wasn’t just pretty words and passing teenage hormones.

After you’d actually started rooming together officially, you knew there had even been some joking from your friends about Magneto one day becoming your father-in-law. But you tried not to humor any of that. You were in no hurry, and felt further commitment to that level would have to be Peter’s decision. It wouldn’t be fair to put him under that kind of pressure.

You knew he had reservations on the subject when none of his father’s marriages had ever worked out. He wouldn’t say it outright, but you were sure Peter felt there was still some sort of family curse there that he didn’t want to tempt fate with. As if making you his spouse would be the final straw and something would come to take all his happiness away.

You felt him moving a little then as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Alright, before I forget, group message to Wanda and Lorna...” But he paused, looking up at you with just a blank white screen on the phone. “What do you think I should tell them?”

“Peter, they’re your sisters.” You smiled, not sure why this would be a question to you. “Just say you’re fine, you’re back at the mansion, and you’re going to bed. You can always call them tomorrow.”

He made a face at that though, “What if I don’t want to call them tomorrow? They’re just going to lecture me. Oh, I know!” He smirked as if he’d thought of something clever, adding to whatever he was already typing. “Dad already fussed at me. So don’t worry about it. Wanda, tell mom the same thing. ❤️👍”

He turned the screen to show you. “Think that will work?”

“Genius.” You replied.

“Smart ass.” He grinned, but sent the message before quickly turning his phone back on silent and setting it on the other end table.

You took your own phone out your pocket, intentionally not reading the number of notifications left on the home screen as you also set it to the side before standing up to take your pants off.

You’d just slid them down, trying to step out of them when a sudden pinch to your backside almost had you stumble forward, one foot still stuck in a pants leg.

“Speaking of ass...” Peter teased, pulling his hand back before you could smack it.

“So the cannolis gave you a second wind, huh?” You turned, not surprised to see that devilish grin starting as he now looked you over while you next removed your shirt. You’d think he’d be used to this view by now.

“I was feeling hopeful, yeah,” he replied, though remaining where he was in the bed as your shirt joined your pants on the floor. “Of course I am still pretty tired,” He added, “Maybe you could help me out here?”

You raised one eyebrow as he motioned to the zipper of his jeans. Oh, so this was how it was going to be? He seemed so pleased with his idea though, you couldn’t help but be amused.

***smut starts here, scroll on to skip*** “So pitiful, my poor speedster.” You said, albeit smiling as you climbed into the bed. You straddled him gently, seeing that needful look already beginning to cloud his eyes as he still laid on his back beneath you.

You were tired yourself, and hungry still, but you’d survive until morning. This effort for some physical intimacy seemed worth it to at least end this bizarre night on a good note for the both of you.

And you knew you both wanted it. He might be making a play that he was going to make you do all the work right now, but you highly doubted he’d have the self control to not jump in once things actually got going.

You pushed his shirt up, running both your hands up the sides of his torso. Like anyone would expect for someone as fast as him, he was built lean, though there was sinew there. Just that bit of muscle, storing all that energy, ready to take off at a moment’s notice.

The room was cool. It was still winter and the high ceilings didn’t do much to keep heat near the floor. You knew your hands would be a little cold as well. So you willed just the slightest bit of your energy field from your palms, warming them as you stroked his chest. You could see the bit of bruising here and there from his earlier fall, but luckily nothing extreme.

He relaxed his head into the pillows behind him, clearly enjoying the feel even as you heard his breathing increase slightly. He liked to be petted, but you knew it would be too much of a tease for him if you focused above his waist for too much longer.

You left his shirt pushed up to bare his abdomen to you, even as your hands ran carefully back down, stopping at his belt. Never quite the typical guy when it came to fashion, it wasn’t a normal peg and hole type, but actually an old seatbelt buckle. You undid it with a click, pulling it out through the belt loops of his pants as he arched a little to take his weight off the back and fully free it.

Once that was out of the way, you unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans with little fanfare. His normally loose boxers were already a little tighter though you noticed.

He made a noise, shifting into the touch as you cupped him with your hand. You massaged the area through the fabric, feeling him gradually stiffen as you got a little more forceful.

By the time he was fully erect, it was all too simple to slip him through the now stretched open flap in the boxers.

You had been intending to stroke him now, but on a whim you decided to go another route. Something a little less predictable you hoped, but what you knew he would still like. You doubted you were all that good at it really, but he’d never complained before.

And you could tell he was surprised, you heard him take in a quick breath as you lowered your mouth down on him, sucking him as he spread open his legs for you. You couldn’t take him in too deep without gagging yourself, but you tried to make up for it by moving up and down gingerly as you used your tongue as well.

It must have been stimulating enough for him though as you felt his hand on the back of your head shortly after, and felt his hips starting to rock rhythmically against your mouth.

He gave a quiet moan, he was so very hard now, but you didn’t let up. You knew sometimes, especially if it’d been a while since you’d last had a chance to be intimate together, he may actually cum fairly quickly. But if he did, then he did. You weren’t worried about whether you got anything in return tonight. Truthfully, your heart was already pounding, the heat in you building, just because you knew he was so aroused.

It was always give and take, and there was no rule of whose turn it was at any given time.

His whole body stiffened a little and for a moment you thought that would be it. But his hand moved to your shoulder suddenly instead, pushing you back as you released him in response.

You pursed your lips as you looked back up at him, that little bit of irritation still felt on them of where they’d dragged against him.

He was already sitting up though, pulling his shirt off completely before he tossed it off the bed. “Come on, babe, clothes off please.” He breathed, his silver hair falling into his dark eyes as you moved off of him and he laid back again just long enough that he could pull off his jeans and work his erection free from his boxers before they ended up cast out into the darkness as well.

While you’d been watching him, you’d also been unhooking your bra as requested, tossing that away. Which left only your underwear before you’d slid it down your legs, flicking it off too once it’d only been left swinging from one foot. He closed the small distance between you so fast then, you were sure he’d actually just used his powers before you felt his lips against yours. Desperate almost, as his tongue pressed through immediately afterward.

You shivered, not expecting the feel of his fingers against your entrance almost simultaneously. Just two of them, moving methodically against you. The room felt far from cold now. But you were just kissing him equally as hard now as he started to push his fingers in further, testing your readiness.

By the time you trembled again from his probing, you knew you were fully wet enough. It was a mutual realization evidently as he broke the kiss, urging you to turn so your back was facing him as he moved behind you on the bed.

You understood what he wanted as he kneeled behind you. You let yourself lean down onto your elbows in the pillows, but also on your knees in the back as you felt him grab your hips from behind. You arched your back, curving your back downward to help angle yourself into him as you felt his tip pressing into you.

As wet as you were now, he only had to try a couple times before he was able to slide fully in. To the hilt so to speak as you felt his torso now pressed flush against you. Already that slight sheen of sweat was starting where your skin touched together as he began to thrust.

The bed was creaking, and you bit back a moan of your own, never quite sure how thick the walls really were in this house. It was kind of an unspoken thing that as long as precautions were taken, and the others in the house didn’t have to hear or see anything you did in the privacy of your own room, then no one would care if people coupled up. For the two of you, precautions only meant a birth control pill, not worrying about condoms any longer after several years of monogamy.

His thrusts were getting even more uneven though, which told you he was close to orgasm. But you couldn’t help but push back against him yourself, panting a little as you felt him grab and squeeze one of your breasts. He was supporting himself with his other arm as he leaned forward suddenly, still inside you as he nipped you lightly on one shoulder, then kissing the same spot before he breathed in your ear.

“How do you always feel so good?” He murmured.

As he let go of your breast, you felt his hand go back between your legs. Even though he was still buried fully in you, his fingers went back to teasing the outside. The over stimulation left you shuddering, and you knew he was trying to get you to orgasm first.

His fingers just kept moving as he started to thrust again. You loved that feeling of fullness, when he was all the way inside, but it was the added teasing of his fingers where you were most sensitive that finally sent you over the edge. Your muscles inside spasming around him then as that unmistakable burst of euphoria went through you, leaving every piece of you trembling.

He clearly felt your orgasm, only moving both hands back to your hips then. Pulling you back against him as he thrust roughly several more times, enough to get his own release as you felt his erection pulse in its own right, knowing he had then let go inside you as you felt that warmth already dribbling back out onto the bedsheets.

Even though you’d started the foreplay, he’d done most the work for the finish. Yet you still felt spent now, only rolling onto your back after he pulled out, trying not to let too much of his seed run back out of you and onto the bed.

He was still breathing a little unevenly as he left the bed only long enough to go grab a clean hand towel from the bathroom. One of those pluses of having had the mansion rebuilt back then was that so many more of the rooms now had their own bathrooms. And after he’d wiped the residue off of himself, he handed you the towel. You dabbed up the small spot on the bed, before wiping off the remainder from your skin as well, then tossing the towel unceremoniously onto the floor with everything else.

Peter turned off the end table lamp before climbing back into the bed beside you in the darkness. The only light then coming from the moon and starlight through the thin curtains at the windows.

You were both still naked, and a little bit hot as you only pulled the covers as high as your waists, knowing the room’s cool air would chill you quickly enough now that no more physical exertion was taking place.

Hot or not though, his arms went around you as he then pulled you into a spooning position in the darkness. You actually felt that he was still about half hard too as it touched against your backside again, you now both laying on your sides with your back to his chest.

***sex over, you’re safe to start reading again*** “That almost made up for this entire night,” He joked quietly, kissing the back of your neck a couple times before you felt him smile against your skin. He moved one of his hands to trail it lightly over your hip, the sensation tickling you slightly as he spoke again. His voice was soft, a true contentment in his tone. “Love you.”

That wasn’t a phrase he said often. But the both of you seemed to save the word as to never water it down. When it was said, it made it really mean something more.

You reached down for his hand that’d been playing with your hip, grasping it warmly and weaving your fingers between his. “I love you.” You said simply, no need to elaborate on what was just a fact.

He squeezed your hand a little harder, but said nothing more, you both just enjoying the touch and comfort of each other’s presence.

You moved your head a little more into the pillows, getting just right as you closed your eyes.

——————————

Your dreams faded in and out, nothing you could remember in detail though as the sunlight on your face now had you squinting. You thought of just pulling the blanket back over your head, but your brain started to register the smell of food as well. Bacon specifically as you lifted your head a little, trying to focus.

“It lives!” Peter joked from beside you, sitting cross legged on top the blankets and just in his boxers again. Two plates of food sat in front of him, the source of the smell you realized as you sat up a little, pulling the sheet up enough to cover your bare chest in the cool room.

Very rarely did he ever wake before you, and your still half asleep stare of confusion only made him smirk a little.

“I had to pee.” He said through a mouthful of food, a sausage biscuit with a large bite already taken out of it in one hand, and a video game controller pressed down into the bed with the other. His hand with the controller was blurring slightly as he moved it just fast enough to work the joy stick and buttons simultaneously. “Then I remembered they released that new DLC last night. Had to try it out. I turned the volume down though. Considerate right?”

And it was indeed silent, not the usual grunts and blasts and screams from that gory fighting game he loved so much. His character was currently comboing another into oblivion on the small TV across from the end of your bed.

Your lack of any real dinner the night before had you focusing back to the food in front of you though.

“Go on,” Peter encouraged. “I knew you’d be hungry. It’s not all for me.”

Normally you were against eating in bed, just from the crumbs and general mess it could make. You’d had the misfortune to find the sticky remnants of Twinkies and the like from Peter’s late and early snacking many times.

Yet even as you picked up one of the amazing looking sausage and egg biscuits for yourself, you wondered if anyone else was now going without. Was it stolen goods? “Where...did this come from?” You asked, voice still a little hoarse from just waking, even as you bit down hungrily.

But the implication of your question didn’t even faze him. “Oh there was plenty. Raven told Hank he didn’t know how to cook, so guess who wins? Us when he made three damn trays of these things.”

“Sounds like she had a plan.” You responded, also grabbing a couple pieces of bacon now.

“Totally.” He agreed. “And orange juice is on the end table, babe.”

You glanced to your side, indeed just noticing the glass beside you then. “Well, you’ve been busy.” But your attention eventually drifted back to him only sitting there in his boxers after you’d taken a few sips of juice. “Did anyone even see you?”

“Nah. Maybe they felt an errant breeze or two.” But he was grinning in a way that still gave you pause.

You watched him a little while longer, only feeling more and more sure before you finally offered out the accusation. “No. You did something. Something else...”

He’d already emptied his plate now, both hands on the video game controller then as he seemed to put his focus solely back to the TV screen. Intentionally of course before he grabbed the nearby remote to start turning the volume back up.

“Peter.” You spoke anyway, knowing full well he could still hear you. “Did we not just scrape by last night without any big consequences? You’re going to put that goodwill to the test already this morning?”

“It’ll be fine.” He answered. “It’s nothing.”

Your eyebrows raised a little. His ‘fine’ and yours could sometimes be completely different things. You sighed, going back to eating the food in front of you as Peter’s character liberated the head off another in a ridiculous fountain of CGI blood.

If you could just finish your breakfast before the next possible calamity-

The bedroom door absolutely rattled in its frame with the pounding on it that almost had you spilling the juice in the bed. By the time your annoyed look moved to the spot Peter had just been, the video game was already paused. Only yourself now alone with whoever was on the other side of that door.

“Just say I’m not here!”

You couldn’t even tell where the whisper came from. Peter either hiding in the closet or maybe the bathroom, they were too near each other to tell.

“I’m not even dressed!” You retorted just to him, quite literally naked as you tried to disentangle yourself from the blankets without dumping your food plate, while simultaneously setting the glass of juice back onto the end table.

Peter said nothing more, so you could only call out that you were coming as you anxiously tried to find some of your clothes from the night before. You were able to find your underwear, and the um, incriminating towel, but that was about it. Sure it’d been dark, but how on Earth anything else could have gotten much farther or under something so quickly was beyond you. You kicked the towel under the bed, and you just had to settle for Peter’s t-shirt crumpled in your path as you grabbed it up and yanked it over your head, hurrying for the door.

You still tried to tug the shirt down as far as you could though, at least covering your panties and butt you hoped before you finally pulled the door open. Pantsless, barefoot, and probably with bedhair as you stared up into the glowing red eyes of a very irritated looking, and entirely shirtless Remy LeBeau.

His expression softened just slightly at the sight of you, his lips curling into a handsome smile. But one that didn’t quite reach those crimson eyes. “Mornin’, cher...so sorry to intrude, but I need to have a few words with that boy toy of yours.”

Yet you were staring still, taking time to process the sight before you. There was black...large black streaks all across his face. It circled his eyes in a cartoon like representation of glasses. Though he already had some stubble on his face, the streaks condensed around his mouth as well, like the upturned mustache and goatee of an old timey villain. As if he should be going to tie up some poor girl to train tracks somewhere.

“Oh my God,” you breathed. Permanent marker, seriously? How old were all of you again? “Remy, I’m sorry.” You thought about saying something about how Peter had let those paparazzi get under his skin last night. But it wouldn’t matter. Not if none of these boys were in the mood to be reasonable right now.

“You know you’re not going to catch him.” Is what you finally said. “Please don’t blow up my bedroom trying.”

“And he ain’t worth my chasin’, petite. I just want to talk,” Remy insisted though, voice as smooth as you’d ever heard it as he leaned against your doorframe in only a pair of pajama pants.

But the few playing cards now flitting between his fingers told you otherwise on his supposed peaceful intentions. Yet when he saw you look down at them, another one appeared seemingly from nowhere in his other hand.

He offered it to you, “But if he isn’t man enough to show himself, at least I get the pleasure of your company, non?”

The card was the king of hearts of course as he palmed it into your hand before you could think to stop him. But you knew it wouldn’t be charged if he was handing it to you like that. You trusted him at least that much.

Yet you were quite sure he was still only trying to lure Peter out by audibly flirting with you now. And sadly, it would probably work. “Remy, can you two just save it for the danger room?” You tried again. “It’s too early, really. I was just trying to eat breakfast.”

“Well, seeing as how you’ve been ditched, I don’t see why someone like you should have to eat all alone.” He answered effortlessly, just strolling past you further into the bedroom as if there was no awkwardness in this at all.

In a moment of panic you wondered if it’d be best to just call for backup. Your cell phone wasn’t very far. Was everyone awake already? What if you just called Rogue? That’d be the most straight forward right? Oh, but you could imagine that conversation. Hey girl, come get your man out of my bedroom please? Yet she totally would. He’d be as helpless as a toddler if she decided she was dragging him out.

“You know,” Remy said, considering a little as he palmed one of the uneaten biscuits right off the tray like it was a bauble to steal. “I did think we looked good together in those pictures they printed from the beach. It’s only natural you know. When two people have chemistry, everybody can see it.”

And that was it, the final straw. You didn’t even know why you still jumped when the bathroom door flung all the way open. The window opened too, a couple cards Remy had already thrown then exploding out there harmlessly like little fireworks as Peter had redirected them outside.

Your bedsheet seemed to have a mind of its own as it ripped off the bed and tied around Gambit as well, pinning his arms to his sides as he was forced to then kneel in front of you.

Peter reappeared at your side, looking down at his handiwork as he scowled at the other man. It was a rare expression on Peter’s face, but a little more jarring for that reason.

“Apologize to (Y/N).” Peter demanded. “Or you’re going out the window next.”

But you knew Remy’s wounded pride meant there would be no such possibility of deescalation now. They were going to have to be physically separated and given a cool off period no matter what. As you considered whether to actually put a shield around one or both of them to essentially begin preparations for mutant time out, Remy was already countering back at Peter, a mocking tone rolling off his tongue.

“Alright. I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’m sorry that you got saddled with a jealous little boy who goes after rivals in their sleep rather than face them like a man. And then just hides behind that same woman he thinks they’re going to take from him, yeah?”

Oh for God’s sake! You dropped the card Remy had given you, that you’d for some reason still been holding. You powered up, trying to catch both of the guys in two of your force fields, Peter had already been in movement though. In actuality you’d only ended up shielding Remy just before Peter had kicked the field, looking as if the hit had been intended for the Cajun’s chest.

“Don’t protect him!” Peter looked to you in surprise.

“I’m protecting both of you!” You responded, then glowing white and hovering now several feet off the floor in your annoyance.

“Kinky.” A new voice spoke, followed by a sing song voice that unfortunately you did now recognize as Deadpool continued. “I see London, I see France, I see (Y/N)’s underpants!”

With your energy humming around you, Peter’s shirt you were wearing was now billowing up a little you realized. Indeed giving a full view to all those below you. You dropped back to the floor immediately, but didn’t power down, keeping the field around Remy as you turned to look at the several people now standing in your doorway.

“You know, this is exactly how those rumors start,” Ellie said in her usual dry tone, taking in the truly bizarre scene of the three of you. “Putting on some clothes might be a good first step. Or you know, at least closing the door.”

The girl otherwise known as Negasonic Teenage Warhead was never one to mince words, even to you all, her sort of superiors. Her girlfriend Yukio only stood beside her, smiling a bit sheepishly.

“Yeah, don’t mind us you little OT3, I just came back to bring Russel his stuff.” He motioned to the boy, who was now also staring at you all. “And your boss Charlie X said I had to have an escort, so I got my old buddies here Nega-angst and Yukio-chan. Oh and-”

Deadpool suddenly grabbed another man who had been standing behind them, bringing him to the front. “This is my all time best buddy Dopinder, he wanted a tour of mutant Hogwarts as well.”

“Hello.” The young man waved a bit shyly. “It is an honor to meet more of DP’s superhero allies.”

“Hey.” Peter said oddly to them after a moment, then looking back to you again. The randomness seemed to have snapped him out of his fixation on getting even with Remy at least for the moment. It now looked like he was waiting for guidance from you on what to do next.

You heard an audible sigh from Remy then as he spoke up. “I rather not destroy your sheets, cher. Truce for today?”

You glanced back to Peter first though before letting down the shield. Making sure he’d agree to untie him. Peter looked reluctant still, but eventually nodded.

And with that you powered down, your field around Remy disappearing as all the energy faded back inside you. In another instant he was completely untied, the sheet semi neatly back on your bed then. You knew some of the food had to have gone flying wherever when Peter had ripped off the bedsheet earlier in their scuffle. But you didn’t really care right now.

“Woah, woah. Is that the new MK game?” Wade just questioned suddenly, then seemingly oblivious to all else as he strode into your room as well.

Why no one had any boundaries today, you had no idea.

“Wait, we get video games too?” Russell also sounded impressed, just following.

“Some of us,” Ellie replied though, giving Peter a skeptical look. “That one might have had a five finger discount.”

Peter huffed at her, non committal on the truth of that statement though, “It’s the new one, yeah. The new DLC just added more characters too.”

You didn’t even care anymore honestly as Wade pulled off his mask and hopped immediately onto your and Peter’s bed, grabbing a controller. “Dibs on Johnny Cage, mother fuckers. Let daddy show you how it’s done.”

“Hey, I want to be Scorpion!” Russell replied, actually sounding like the fourteen year old he really was for once.

And you saw Peter was already digging out another controller from his gaming pile as he scoffed at them both. “Man, you can try. I’ll wipe the floor with you and buzzcut you down to bloody stumps with Kung Lao.”

“Dopinder, google Johnny Cage combos, stat!” Deadpool requested as his friend hurried in, dutifully sitting on the floor and pulling out a cell phone to do just that.

Remy was actually the only male in the room to not be sucked in as he gave you a little look while walking back out. “Later, petite. Sorry for real about the fuss. You know he just irks me.” He leaned in a little closer just to you though. “And I know you’re faithful. He just needs to leave me out of it. Quit readin’ dem damn gossip magazines, yeah?”

“Yes.” You agreed with a smile. A little optimism returning that maybe the two of them could be reasoned with after all. “See ya, Remy.”

He nodded, winking at both Ellie and Yukio as well before he slipped past them and out down the hall. Yukio giggled, but Ellie only rolled her eyes.

“Well, if you put some pants on, maybe there’s still some breakfast left down there. Want to go?” Ellie asked you, crossing her arms. She smirked then though, the guys now commentating and mocking one another like there was some big sporting match going on just a few feet from you. “Let Wade be Peter’s problem for a while, I think you’ve earned it.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You agreed without much hesitation. If Peter needed you, it’s not like it’d even take him two seconds to find you, even with the size of this house.

You did see him glance back ever so briefly as you dug some sweatpants out your dresser drawer and pulled them on though. You made an eating gesture and he nodded, understanding where you were going.

He also made a motion like drinking and you knew that meant he wanted you to bring him back some soda. The more sugar the better for him.

As you walked back downstairs with Ellie and Yukio, Ellie chuckled to herself a little. “You know Wade’s going to think Peter is his bff now. Better buckle up for that ride. Colossus can probably give you some pointers.”

You sighed, looking at the younger two girls. “We’ve survived everything that’s been thrown at us to this point. Could always be worse.”

“Oh yeah, it’ll get worse.” Ellie answered.

Yukio nodded, yet still smiling. “Wade is very special. And deadly.”

“Like a contagion,” Ellie added.

It still didn’t matter though. New, strange friends, or old sometimes combative friends. Gossip and rumors, or anything else. In the end you had to agree with Xavier as you so often usually did. As long as you and Peter kept strong together, none of that outside noise could ever tear you down. You had each other and that was all you needed.

————————

End. Thanks for reading! Art by NACCHAN96.

[yn-x-animeboy]

Jungkook x y/n (as a famous artist) Pt.4

pairing: reader x Jungkook

genre: fluff, romance, for entertainment purposes

BTS x Fem Reader

synopsis: You are a popular artist in America, pretty famous, loved and well-known by the general public (actually you were one of the top 10 artists in the world but you are pretty humble and naïve to realize your popularity), one day during one of your fan meets you talk about how much you love BTS, and not only how you wish to meet them and work with them but how Jungkook is one of your celebrity crushes. During the meet you fangirled with other ARMYs in the crowd; video clips of you fangirling and talking about BTS at your meet where posted and reposted all over social media. This obviously broke the internet because you were not only a famous singer but you also were always accepted and loved by ARMY and this made a lot of people happy. Suddenly it felt like everyone wanted you to meet the seven handsome and talented idols and collaborate, but you could only wish, you believed they didn't even know who you were...or so you thought

Parts: 1 here, 2 here, 3 here 

---- 

Part 4 - Hotel? Trivago.

you started to sing and suddenly you heard a voice behind you singing with you, and you couldn’t even turn around to prove you were not mistaken, you knew that voice too well, the live audience was losing it, the crew looked excited, you went numb, you looked back and it seemed like a joke, a complete dream…..

The seven guys were coming out from behind the curtain, being led by Jungkook, he was singing the bridge of the song, mic in hand and just looking at you. Your knees gave out and you curled on your knees as you cried on your knees, ‘there is no way’, you could even begin to process what was going on, The boys were a little shy and stayed behind you as Jimmy lifted you from the floor and made you look at them. 

Once you could stand up/being held up by Jimmy, RM was the first to approach you, they all introduced themselves and after they bowed their heads out of respect and you did the same, you looked at them in awe. Then they greeted Jimmy too. Jungkook signaled you to keep singing the last part of the song and as a professional singer you did. You picked up your singing almost at the end of the song: “kkumeul geonneoseo supul neometro, seonmyeonghaejineun geu goseuro ga” holding the mic with to hands trying to hide your shaking hands Jungkook standing next to you to the left and the guys with Jimmy around the both of you; you lifted one hand from the mic and showed it to the closest people to your right which were Jimin, V and Jimmy; and just as you put it up to show how shaky it was Jungkook took your hand as he sang: “Take my hands now, You are the cause of my euphoria.” You really looked at him for the first time ever, you had never seen him in person before…. Your eyes met each other for a split second.

The guys, Jimmy, the crew, the audience, everyone cheered and squealed at this little interaction; you both blushed and dropped each other's hands. You turned back to hide your face covering your mouth as you got teary eyes. The guys near Jungkook hit him and teased him due to his ‘out of the blue’ confidence. He was normally more shy when it came to interactions with strangers, especially if it was with women. But even Jungkook seemed surprised at himself; he blushed too, but kept going. You both finished the song, harmonizing perfectly, facing each other, but avoiding his eyes, you felt so vulnerable looking at his eyes.

They all applauded once you finished and they cut to a commercial break. The guys were taken by crew members to get mic'd up, and Meg once again for the third time tonight fixed your appearance. They went back from break and sat on the couch next to Jimmy, they made a space for you in the middle of the guys, and you took a seat with trembling limbs as the ‘back from commercials’ music played and the audience cheered.

On the main couch sat RM nearest to the desk, then you to his right, Jungkook next to you and Suga on the end of the medium couch; behind you V, Jimin J-Hope and Jin sat on higher chairs all facing the front. Jimmy spoke “so I heard you introduced yourselves o y/n in english with the help of RM, but she can actually speak Korean. Y/n why don’t you introduce yourself?” They all turned to you from all angles; “Oh i'm so sorry; RM was so kind to translate when they introduced themselves, I didn't want to seem rude by interrupting him, but sure um-” you switched to korean and looked around you to the boys “Hello, my name is y/n, I am so pleased to meet you all, it's a dream come true, please take good care of me” The guys immediately made small comments at your cute Korean accent, “aww so cute” “wow you are good” “cute” even though a Korean person could probably tell Korean was was not your first language due to the accent difference, you where really good at it. 

“So I wanted to ask the guys a couple of questions too, thank you guys for coming, it's always a pleasure to have you all.” Jimmy said, after this he introduced them to the audience and gave them a proper introduction. Jimmy proceeded to catch up with the guys, asking them questions too; you helped RM translate too, which made the interview run smoother, you were making the guys laugh with your small contributions (by adding comments or opinions in Korean). During this time Jungkook and you were sitting so close to each other, you could see eachother out of the corners of your eyes, you were each other's celebrity crushes after all.

After a while you started loosening up and getting more comfortable; this was part of your personality, you were known to be a social butterfly, so even though this was a dream come true and you couldn’t stop crying like 15 mins ago; your body knew this was a once in a lifetime opportunity and that there is no time to be all shy and quiet. You got looser, bolder, and more confident, actually showing your real personality, the personality the boys knew you like from your videos and social media. (and the personality that made Jungkook so drawn to you in the first place.) Your change in personality even made the boys less stiff and more relaxed too.

After the catch up with the guys you all stood up to play another one of Jimmy’s famous show games/challenges/activities. “So now that you all are more comfortable with each other let’s play a game, this game is called ‘Guess The Jam’, Basically we will play a song and like earlier you have to dance to it; the difference this time is that the dancer will be wearing headphones and others have to guess the song they are dancing too by just judging the dance moves. 

Y/N will be dancing to BTS songs and BTS is going to dance to y/n songs, yes?” You were now standing WITH them instead of next to them/distant from them, you all seemed like you bonded. “yes” “Let’s GO!” “I got it”.

Again the game was a success you danced to multiple songs and they all guessed their title by your dancing to all of the songs that had been assigned to you; and you were so impressed at the seven grown a*s men, dancing perfectly to random songs of yours, you guessed most of them, but you got distracted at times form the hilarious scene in front of you. *J-Hope trting really hard to coordinate everyone in seconds to make the dance clear, they eventually would give up and dance their hearts out*, leaving you with no other choice but to TRY and guess what the hell they were dancing to. 

At some point the maknae line (V/Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook) made you dance with them to some of the songs (IDOL, Boy with luv, Burning up, etc) while the hyungs cheered you guys on, and also while J-Hope recorded you four like you were his children dancing at a school show. 

You all took a break after the dance segment and went to freshen up while Jimmy did another sponsorship. You changed back to your Fancy outfit and Meg AGAIN, for the millionth time tonight fixed your image, your team/crew would hype up and get all supportive since BTS arrived, telling you you were doing great, and how this was your dream come true, etc. You thanked your manager too, every time you briefly saw him during the ‘touch up moment’, then you went back to the studio couch with the boys in the same order you were sitting before.

You didn't notice but Jungkook looked at you in awe as you came out with a different outfit, the guys had been watching the whole show up to the point where they surprised you backstage, meaning he had seen the outfit before, but the view in person was different; he proved his hypothesis to be right...you truly lighted up a room the minute you walked in it. He composed himself, he was being shy and quiet while you were showing a more inviting and relaxed vibe. (Pfft he had no idea you were still shi*ting your pants hahaha).

“So  y/n and I talked about this earlier; she is going to be performing tomorrow for the Billboard awards, and I hear that you guys will also be performing. Is that true? RM was about to translate to the guys and then answer Jimmy, but you handled it and translated Jimmy’s question to the guys for him, letting him answer comfortably; sometimes he could have a hard time during interviews in english because he had to constantly translate for the guys; this little gesture meant so much to him. “Yeah, we too are going to be performing tomorrow, we are really excited and thankful for the opportunity, and we are also excited to watch the whole award show too,” RM said. They were also nominated and were going to watch the show, you got a little excited your were going to see them again tomorrow, even if you knew you probably were only going to be able to see them on stage due to how hard it was actually to ‘hang out’ with other celebrities on award shows due to the different schedules and hectic environment. Nevertheless you were trying to enjoy your little burst of confidence and take in every moment right now with the guys; you knew your friendship would probably last only for today. (a/n oHhH muahahah u thought y/n)

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The Jimmy Fallon Show was a complete success, the plan worked, your team and BTS’s team with the help of Jimmy were able to surprise you guys; the timing worked because you were both in the same place due to the billboard awards and your performances.

After the show you even hung out a little with them before you all had to go. The chemistry between you and the guys was unbelievable, it seemed like you guys had been close friends all this time. 

RM and you bonded over speaking english, even teasing others by speaking english and not translating back for them; Suga and you had bonded over producing music, you both talked about how the process is for the both of you, and he even said he would love to work with someone like you (even though he was normally a more chill, cold person to strangers, he immediately felt comfortable to show you his warmer side, that’s your charm); J-Hope and you bonded over dance, you both ‘fangirled’ about each others’ skills, you too both agreed that working with each other in the future would be so cool; Jin and you seemed like siblings I swear, he too is normally more shy when it comes to one-on-one interactions with strangers but due to your boldness, you immediately bonded by teasing each other, he would also try and make you cringe with cheesy Korean dad jokes, but you always had another cringier joke to fight back with; Let’s just say you passed Taehyung’s vibe check, he really likes your personality and you met all his expectations of you, he was not disappointed, out of all of the guys you had the quickest bond with him, he now even has a nickname for you and you too also start to call him ‘Tae Tae’ after just a couple hours of meeting; Jimin struggled a little at first to approach you, he was really fangirling over you once the cameras were cut, but you approached him and made him feel comfortable, he then immediately loosened up and bonded over your similar personalities, it was like hanging out with a literal different version of yourself, you even already had inside jokes with him too; and Jungkook…. oh Jungkook, you guys seemed to fit so well, in the little time you both hung out you were making each other cry laugh, you had small conversations about music, dance, about your cultural differences, he even said that if you ever went to Korea, he would like to show you around his favorite places, but every time you guys would chat with each other or literally by just existing next to each other, the guys would act weird and either make small comments and noises to tease you, or try and give you space in the small dressing room by standing up from the couch and dashing to the corner of the room (again imagine six grown men huddled in the corner trying to act ‘natural’ when Jungkook only handed you a bottle of water that was brought in by a crew member).

It was crazy how quick you all created this friendship, the guys had already talked amongst themselves and agreed that no matter what, they would really care for this friendship and that they would do everything in their power to keep you in their lives (Suga said that he was down to kidnap you from america and take you to South Korea in case you all became distant). 

You were currently sitting in their dressing room chatting, basically getting to know them and them getting to know you (y'all were having some deep conversations) you also learned you were staying in the same hotel and that the next day you all had rehearsals at the same time for your performances, you compared your schedules and  they seemed to match up for the most part. In conclusion you were staying at the same hotel, had rehearsals at 8:00 am in the same location the next day, and you guys wanted to hang out a little more.

Your managers came in to tell you that the cars were ready to take you to the hotel, you got a little sad you had to leave them for the ride back, but their manager said “Oh, y/n, you get to choose who you want to travel back with, we canceled your car so that you could drive back with the boys” you smiled from ear to ear and quickly introduced yourself to the bilingual man in charge of managing the guys behind you who were currently fighting over who you got to ride back to the hotel with. 

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Due to the fact that no one wanted to be left out riding back without you, you where currently eight adults...packed tightly into a small van on the back seats. Both of your teams/staffs watched as you all tried to get in the van, like children (screaming, pushing, laughing) they didnt know if they should find this cute/funny or drag you all into separate vans once and for all. 

“Dude I can feel your fuc*ing hair IN MY NOSE, move” Suga spoke, “Whose hand is that, ey they getting friendly” Tae said, as a joke you said “That’s my hand, my bad” making everyone laugh. “Jimin you know, you are not so light weighted, I need blood circulation” Jin commented, “Oy aren't you sitting too close to y/n kookie? If something happens I’m taking y/n’s side.” You all laughed, it was true tho, you were basically on top of Jungkook but weren't you all ‘TOO CLOSE’ to each other? I mean- 3 seats for 8 adults? It definitely defied the laws of physics but it worked out. 

The ten minute ride to the hotel was interesting; the first 5 minutes were silent, after 2 minutes you asked for the radio, but it was broken, after 2 more minutes you could faintly hear Jin’s moaning out in pain as he was being suffocated; due to the weird sounds he was making, the context and your ‘dirty minded heads’ you and JK burst out laughing, making the others infected with your laughter, this until you arrived.

Once you were at the hotel, your teams made you stand like disobedient children in a line ‘soldier style’ while they arranged the room situations. (you had stayed at a different hotel in the afternoon due to its closeness to the Jimmy fallon set and due to the fact you only used it to nap and shower, but this hotel was closer to where the billboard awards where and to where your rehearsals were so this was your temporary home for now, aslo your team had to rent a lot of rooms for the 20 or so people traveling with you. BTS had to do the same) 

While the keys were being activated one of the BTS staff members started to ask the guys for their room service orders, so the kitchen could start making them; your manager’s assistant also took your order and while you were busy choosing your dinner, the maknae line had an idea...

Once you finished ordering Tae and Jungkook interlocked their arms with yours tightly and Jimin spoke to staff: “Excuse me could you please be so kind to send all of our meals to Jin’s room, (turning to YOUR staff he again spoke in broken english) y/n would also like her dinner to be sent to Jin’s room, than you all, gudnait”, 

While Jungkook and V dragged you, Jimin bowed to the staff and followed you. Suga was cry-laughing at your cruising while being dragged away, he lifted one of your dragging legs up and RM followed him, lifting the other leg. J-hope started recording the whole ordeal. Jin was following them as he suddenly realized... “Oi why does it always have to be my room? I always end up smelling like steak '' he kept following anyway. 

Your manager speeded up and walked next to your now lifted body and told you to have fun and to go to your room early to be responsible and not stay up so late for tomorrow’s early rehearsals (cute scene: without putting you down the boys stopped and lowered you a little so that you could say good night to Sam and he could kiss your forehead, they they lifted you back up)  

You arrived at Jin's assigned hotel room and the guys comfortably all spread around the room; you walked in a little shy because you had never hung out  like this with anyone, plus you didn't know what to do…. Jin was the last one to walk in and he put his arm around you encouraging you to walk in with him, he even pushed Jimin off the bed so you could sit there and he took the desk chair while you all waited for the food. You all had dinner in Jin’s room, sitting on the floor and drinking wine (Jin and Jimin insisted on having alcohol) you were having so much fun. After dinner you all kept drinking while playing drinking games with the tiny alcohol bottles hotels provide.

It was really really REALLY past your bedtimes; just analize with me: if the Jimmy Fallon show ended at 12:00am and you  guys got to the hotel at around 12:30, you had dinner, played games, drank, etc.; imagine what time it is currently…. 

You all were at least little tipsy by now, RM spoke to everyone: “Guys-ss we should probably go back to our rooms, wE hAve to be aWake and readY to gOooooo. for tomorrow..” even though he was all sloppy and slow form the alcohol he was still following his ‘leader’ role. Everyone drunkenly cleaned up Jin's room and stood up to leave to head to your rooms. Out of everyone in here, you and Jungkook were the least drunk; not because you drank less, but apparently you both were better at handling alcohol than the others.

JK offered to walk you to your room because even if you weren't super drunk you were still a little sloppy (which he was too) and your team had rented the floor under so he didn’t want to leave you alone to find your way (you found this so cute, no one had ever treated you like this, he was a true gentleman). 

Obviously the guys teased when you both walked together in the same direction, you just kept walking, making small talk. Once the elevator arrived on your floor you thought JK would ride the elevator back, but he insisted on making sure you were safe inside your room before he left. You walked through the hall, heels in your right hand and Jungkook walking to your left. You suddenly passed by a clear door that showed outside to a terrazze (basically used for smokers, but other people could use it too) and not thinking it through you took JK’s hand and walked outside.

It was a warm night and the terrazze was pretty dark-ish and small, but the view was beautiful; the night sky contrasting the bright lights form the buildings’ skyline. You looked at the view, mesmerized by it, Jungkook could only look at you, he thought you looked too beautiful and as you tightly held on to the railing looking out wide eyed at the pretty lights. 

You turned to him and realized he was looking at you, you analyzed his face thinking: ‘waw he is the most handsome man I have ever seen’ as you looked into his eyes, even through your tipsy state you realized >OMG I'M STANDING OUT HERE WITH JUNGKOOK, THE. JUNGKOOK., FUC*K, I PROBABLY LOOK LIKE SHIT DAMMIT, WAIT THIS IS MY CELEBRITY CRUSH, WHAT DO I DO 

You seemed to be getting physically closer and closer to eachother, he was looking down at you in such an adoring way, but in his head he was also thinking…> OMG I'M STANDING OUT HERE WITH Y/N, THE. Y/N., FUC*K, I PROBABLY LOOK LIKE SHIT DAMMIT, WAIT THIS IS MY CELEBRITY CRUSH, WHAT DO I DO , but even though you were BOTH freaking out, the two of you knew this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, having someone so special to you, like this, in front of you…

You were now standing inches away from each other's faces, “hi…” you said, almost whispering as you smiled sweetly at him, looking from his eyes to his lips.

“Hi” Jungkook said in a raspy almost sleepy tone, smiling with his teeth and suddenly dropping his smile back down as he followed your eyes; he wanted to close the space between you two, but he didn't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable or think of him differently. 

You were the first to speak, breaking eye contact and looking at his chest. “Um, could I, if it’s not too weird, um- put...my arms around you?” you immediately regretted it; what if he didnt understand your Korean, what if you translated it wrong in your head before saying it outloud what if-.... A small chuckle coming from in front of you stopped your train of thought, Jungkook put his hand under your chin and lifted your face to look at him again; he took your arms and placed them around his neck; he then put his hands on your waist, but loosened his hold and asked if you were okay with that and you nodded.

You both stared at each other’s eyes; you both fit so perfectly in each other's arms you felt so comfortable. The tension could be cut with a knife, you looked back at his lips and he did too; getting closer, you could feel his breathing on your face, you both closed your eyes and barely touched your lips together when his phone went off for the millionth time startling you, you both separated your faces and looked wide-eyed at the other, a tint of blush on your cheeks… you kissed him, he kissed you, even though it was the tiniest, shortest, lightest kiss in the history of kisses you both felt happy about it. When you realized you two had the same expression on your faces you both laughed, you had never been this comfortable with a man before, specially in such a short period of time.

His phone ket going off and off, “My phone has been ringing for so long now hahaha, since we left the elevator it has rung, but I didn't want to answer and um- you know… I don't want to answer and not be focused on you” he said as you both took a step back from each other and as he answered the 37th call after ignoring other 36 calls. 

“PFFfffft ohhhhh he answered, hi guki, um ahahaha shut the fAq uP Tae ahahahah um…. we….. can't get into our rooms'' you could hear the snickers and slow words through the phone, you and Jungkook still felt a little numb and sloppy from the alcohol, how could they be so drunk?. 

“Hyung… ugh fine, i’ll be there don’t go anywhere, nobody move, okay?” he hung up and humorously sighed, he would normally find this situation to be hilarious but the fact that he had to interrupt a once in a lifetime moment with his celebrity crush so that he could help his older brothers….dam.

You chuckled at his reaction, you picked the heels from the ground and boldly kissed him on the cheek, you walked in front of him to head inside, knowing how caring he was to his friends; but before you could go inside Jungkook stopped you by taking your hand, “I know this is an embarrassing question but if I don't do this now I may never be able to have this opportunity again…” 

You were still facing the door, your hand in his hand behind your back; frozen from anticipation of what he might say next. 

“Can I um-, *deep inhale* can I kiss you one more time before you go?” you immediately turned around (and this might be the alcohol working it’s magic but you thought ‘he is right, if this was someone else you probably wouldn't have kissed them first day after meeting meeting them, but this was Jungkook, your ‘platonic crush’ from the other side of the world, what if after this weekend you never saw each other again?’) 

Dropping your heels, and letting go of his hand you wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him in to you and kissing him; you both smiled against each other's lips form the sudden butterflies in your stomach and happiness you felt. He pulled you even closer with one hand on the side of your face and the other on your hip, then he wrapped his arms around your torso and you put your arms around his neck holding each other tighter. 

This was no ‘take me now’ R-rated kiss at all; it was a more soft, intimate, sweet kiss. You let go and hugged each other one last time on that terrazze; normally you both didn't really like the whole “corny lovey dovey” scene, so once you let go you both chuckled at your cheesy moment. You walked back inside with him to look for your hotel room, he even asked if he could hold your hand while walking down the hall, you laughed a little at him and took his hand confidently. You remembered your manager told you your room was 456B when the boys were dragging you at the entrance. You  finally arrived at the door, you turned to look at Jungkook and thanked him with a warm genuine smile; he leaned down and kissed the side of your mouth and smiled back and said goodnight with his bunny smile.  :,) 

You turned around and turned the handle to open the door, it didn't open… and something finally clicked in that drunken little head of yours…. SAM NEVER GAVE YOU THE FUC*ING ROOM KEY… you felt like panicking, it was almost 5:30 am, you had to be awake in 2.5 hours for rehearsals and you had nowhere to sleep, instead of crying you laughed, you burst out laughing; Jungkook covered your mouth and leaned over you with your back against the door; he was looking around with a quiet giggle to make sure you didn't wake anyone up.

“ahhh *small giggle* ahh um yeah I would normally just cry in these situations but I- I don’t have a key… Sam didn't give me one” Jungkook was about to come up with a plan to solve this but you knew what he was going to say:  “The front desk won’t open that room for me because it is not registered under my name, for security reasons; Two they can’t give me another room because I need my card and ID to get one and I only have my phone with me; Three, I can’t wake up sam or anyone in my team because A. it isn’t their fault and I would be disrupting their sleep, B. I will get in trouble because Sam told me to come back early, and C…. idk but I wanted to say ‘and C’ ” you said, Jungkook looked down at you and couldn’t help but laugh at you. “Hey don’t make fun of me, it’s not my fault” you poked his chest. He stopped, “No, I’m not laughing at you, the guys have a similar problem apparently what a coincidence” he answered. The both of you decided to go see the guys first before trying to figure out what to do, together, as a team of 8 drunk heads. 

When you arrived on the top floor, there they where, 5 drunk BTS members in front of you; RM was leaning over a hallway wall talking to ‘nothing’ as if he was practicing how to flirt with an invisible person; J-Hope was passed out in fetal position on the floor; Suga was cry laughing rolling on the floor while also trying to click the camera button on his phone as he wobbled back and forth clicking on everything but the camera icon; Jimin was standing still, phone still in his ear, he looked at a statue (remember Kookie said on the phone with Jimin ‘nobody move, okay?’ well Jimin hadn’t moved ever since Jungkook hung up the phone); Tae was literally in the middle of performing some sort of strip/circus/magic/dance show for Suga when they realized you two standing there they composed themselves “what… the hell? hahahahahha, what happened?” You laughed out loud and Jungkook immediately covered your mouth, he quietly giggled as he had done this exact thing minutes ago too. 

In summary, once Jin waved everyone off he went into his room, that's why he is not here; Suga struggled to find his key but eventually found it in his suit jacket and was able to go into his room, he barely spent one minute in there when RM knocked at the door and told Suga that he had no idea where is room was, the keys where not numbered, so Suga said ‘I can help you’ and went out to the hallway to help him but even Suga was confused as to how HE found his room so he told RM don’t worry, sleep in my room and tomorrow the staff can help you, when he turned around to open the door Suga realized he left the key inside. J-Hope had passed out in Jin’s room and Jin had said it was okay for him to stay in his room, but J-Hope had woken up and said good night and walked out so Jin though he was all good and on his way safely to his room...WRONG, J-hope gave up 5 steps down the hall and said ‘i need rest, here floor *thump*’ and dropped on the ground; Taehyung didn’t even know he had a room for himself, so he definitely he has no idea where his room was supposed to be; and Jimin did know where his key was and room, but it apparently was deactivated, but seeing how everyone was up here he opted to not go get it reactivated, he didn’t want to be left out.

Jungkook started losing it, cry-laughing at his friends; this time you humorously covered his mouth like he did to you, as you tried to think of a solution. BINGO, you rang Jin’s door insistently until he opened up. Once he opened the door with sleepy eyes he analized the scene behind you and your hand covering the youngest member’s mouth he sighed, allowing you all inside his room. 

All of you knew you had less than 3 hours to sleep and actually do a good job tomorrow so everyone took up a spot to rest. In the bed J-hope and Jin slept comfortably; Suga fell asleep sitting down on the desk chair; Tae slept in the bathroom’s bathtub; RM threw himself on the tiny couch for two with his arms and legs hanging out from the sides; you sat on the floor leaning against the wall, Jimin used your leg as a pillow and Jungkook sat next to you, he actually did have his hotel key with him and knew his room was literally the one next to this one, but he wanted to be where you where. You both also fell asleep sitting leaning against the wall.

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PART 5------> here

Thank you all for giving my fanfic a shot. I will keep doing my best to give you a good story, please interact with the post :) Xx