#any story you read online where a man wants to hide a relationship turns out terribly; but this is not really on that level.

[sailorsleepymoon]

Latest news in being a person with anxiety is wanting the same thing as someone else but being anxious about why they want it

[donutloverxo]

A Royal Scandal 2

Modern royalty au

(Image from Pinterest)

Cowritten with @lizzygal

I'm so sorry! I made a mistake while posting this yesterday so I'm reposting it now. Hope y'all enjoy💖

Note - Since y'all liked it so much we've decided to post this fic on both ao3 and my tumblr! There will be no taglists for this however💖 You can subscribe to the ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, Mentions of previous domestic abuse.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 8k

To be fair, Steven could understand why his mother was so upset after watching the entire footage from the royal steam rooms. He had a far better understanding after having seen the footage in question. The one that had led to his mother’s reaction that very morning.

Seated beside Carol on the ride back, he slipped in his wireless earbuds and pulled up the first video he found online on his phone.

A separate car had been sent for you for whenever your meeting completed. However, he had a whole series of his own back at the palace before his day could be considered over in the administrative offices. Days were never really over for him. Should anything happen somewhere in his nation, he would be informed. As was expected for a ruler.

Until then, he had fifteen or so minutes to kill till he arrived back at the royal palace, depending on city traffic.

Which was how he found himself watching what was obviously some sort of hidden camera. As the royal banya did not have CCTV cameras. Steve found himself making a mental note to himself to ask Carol about it.

After he watched the video.

He had the feeling that this would not be going away anytime soon. Therefore, he needed to know what was on there if he was going to have to defend his actions, or even speak about it.

It was somewhat surreal watching himself walk into view wearing nothing. Not even a towel. Talking with someone who was obviously you.

Based on where the camera was located, Steve could tell it was somewhere in the hallway that led from the steam rooms into either the showers or locker room. Thank all the saints above your back was to the camera. Half of it anyway. You were standing at a turn in the hallway, leaning against the wall. Half of you hidden. A towel wrapped around your body.

Thanking those saints above still that there was no sound, Steve watched on as a voice narrated the video, some celebrity blogger dissecting the footage as if it were a pivotal moment in some sporting event.

Steve watched himself turn to face you, facing the camera too and exposing his entire self to the world.

Not that he was ashamed. He had nothing to be ashamed about. Steve was built tall and powerful like his father and mother’s father. He kept himself in shape and as for the manhood that hung heavy between his thighs, he refused to be embarrassed by that either. The blogger however did have several opinions about what she referred to as, the royal sword.

She also seemed to be very opinionated when Steve watched himself kneel down in front of you. He’d never watched himself go down on you before and found himself transfixed, easily able to ignore the blogger’s excited rambling.

For once, Steve watched your hands sink into his hair as he sank between your legs. He watched your pleasure grow and grow, he watched you sag back into the wall and reach up, grabbing at it like a cat stretching out in the hot sun.

Seeing it happen like this? Steve felt like a voyeur. He felt like he was doing something wrong. And then, he watched you climax on his face. He watched your hands tighten up against the corner of the walls meeting. He watched himself stand and no longer noticed the commentary as he sheathed himself between your legs and proceeded to pound you into the wall without mercy.

His attention caught on one little inconsequential thing. Watching one of your legs that wound over his thigh bounce wildly each time.

Quickly he exited out of the video and blog. Unwilling to watch more. Pulling a bud from his ear, he glanced over at Carol who was watching the city fly by her window.

“Have you inquired as to if the palace guard has looked into how the video was taken in the royal banya?”

Blonde hair dusted her shoulders as she looked at her king. Carol answered without a second of hesitation. “Already done Your Majesty. The camera was found this morning. A webcam of some type. It’s been sent away for fingerprints and I have the best IT professional I know looking into it, to determine if we can track down who it belongs to. The royal guard has also launched an investigation into all palace employees.”

“Thank you,” he answered her with complete sincerity.

Captain Danvers had been at his side since he assumed the throne and had proven herself hundreds of times over. She was his confidant. She was his bodyguard. She was his closest thing to a friend, if Steve could say he had such a thing. He could tell Carol anything. He had told Carol about you. Carol had told him about her sick mother and in return, Steve have given her a cottage on palace grounds while providing a nurse. So that Carol would be able to spend as much time as possible with her mother in her final days. Carol still lived on the palace grounds in that cottage down by the gardens.

“I’ll let you know when I know something,” she assured him.

***

Your return to the palace felt like it took forever. Mostly because your panties were very obviously damp from leakage and you were greatly concerned about a wet stain. The modern equivalent of a scarlet letter. Letting everyone know what you’d done.

Twice you’d checked in a bathroom along with every mirrored surface you came across.

Alas, it seemed you were in luck.

No one would know that you’d had inappropriate contact on a workday, or think you’d had an accident. Granted if someone would have noticed you planned on blaming your monthlies.

By the grace of the many women who came before you, you managed to get back to the palace without being caught and were about to go change your panties when a familiar face popped into your office.

“Hey! You’re coming! I’m not taking no for an answer!”

Wanda.

Bright red hair and a brighter red dress that was far from office appropriate appeared in your office, leaping in like an acrobat leaping onto a stage. Making you look up from where you stood behind your desk, digging through your handbag.

A bunch of different thoughts buzzed through your head.

What was Wanda talking about? Where did she want you to go? Did Wanda wear that mini-dress to work? Cause it was about five inches too short and did downright sinful things to the girls. Wanda could always pull off anything. She looked amazing in clubwear, sweats and those tea-party dresses that Jackie O was always wearing.

“Coming?” Fell from your lips in a valiant attempt to stall till you could make sense of what was happening. “What are you not taking no for an answer for this time?”

In your roommate swept like a hurricane.

“It’s practically six!” She declared, as if that was supposed to mean something to you. It had you staring at her and waiting for more information. Hands paused in their hunt for clean panties and a pantyliner in your bag’o’stuff. “No more talk of this fake boyfriend. You and me are going to go have dinner. We’re going to hit the bars to pre-game and then to the clubs! Everyone is going so you are too!”

Such news had you freezing in your patent leather pumps.

Pre-gaming? Dinner? Clubs? Everyone?

How?

It was only Thursday and then you remembered.

It was a long weekend. The winning of some great victory over the Germans from the big war that you only kinda remembered hearing about. Mostly because you’d been busy with the border issue and the education overhaul. You’d known that it was coming up and the entire four-day weekend would be spent celebrating.

Wanda saw your face. She saw what you were thinking. She was practically a mind reader. Which led her to pointing at you scoldingly. “No! No no no! No checking emails or messages. No more work. No! We’re going out tonight and we are going to have fun! You remember what fun is? Right?”

But…you really did have emails and messages to check. You actually did have a ton of work to do. Granted you always had emails and messages to check, plus work piling up. It was the nature of your job. Helping in the running of a country was a 24/7 gig.

“Wanda…”

“Nope!” She declared, marching on into your office and behind your desk to chase you out. Shooing you. Literally making you hop away and grab your handbag because you just knew Wanda wasn’t letting you back near your desk. That much was for sure.

Like a sheepdog, she herded you around your messy desk as you attempted to protest, to get her to listen, to inform her that you really really did have a good bit of work to do.

“Wait…hold on…wait, Wanda…just one second…gah!”

“No more protests! I’m not going to hear it anymore! I refuse to let you hide behind work or the fake boyfriend.”

More protests came from you. You tried. You really really did. But Wanda was shoving and pushing and hip bumping you out into a hallway that did not look like an office building, instead, it was very obviously a palace.

Your heels clicked on polished white marble that shone. Walls were cream and had priceless art hung around, gold gilded borders ran up along where the ceiling met the walls. Light fixtures were old, bronze and cut glass. Furniture that belonged in Sotheby’s was sparsely decorated around the halls.

Door were old and creaky up and down the halls, wooden with locks that required big iron keys.

It was unlike any other place you’d ever worked.

You could feel and see and even smell the smokey history oozing from the walls.

A few people were hurrying out of their offices and locking the doors behind them, which Wanda didn’t even let you do as she went on indignantly. “No! Nope! Clint from Tinder will not wait forever! He digs foreigners and he has a job and he loves to dance!”

At mention of Tinder, your gut lurched.

Dear god not this again.

Why had you ever agreed to let Wanda make you a Tinder profile? At the time it seemed so reasonable. Let her make the profile and she’d get off your ass about your alleged imaginary boyfriend. Problem solved! How on earth were you to know she’d be on the damn app making matches for you?

“Why don’t you go out with Clint from Tinder,” you wanted to know, earning yourself a roll of Wanda’s eyes as you were dragged down along the hallway to the massive marble stairs. Looking as if they’d been carved from one piece, smoothly curling down a floor to the ground floor. Large chandeliers hung with cut glass that threw light everywhere. A massive painting hung up on the large wall of a long dead large royal family in the palace of past.

“He’s not my type. But he is absolutely your type.”

Somehow you doubted that.

Sighing deeply and focusing on not snapping your ankle on the stairs and in your heels, you followed Wanda down, mixing in with the few stragglers who were leaving work and making mental notes to text Steve and let him know you’d be late coming back to the palace that night. You were then planning when you could check your work emails and work-phone messages. That had to be done in a quiet place where no one could overhear. Maybe you could go out to the club and feign a tummy ache? Then sneak away from Clint? It’d probably be much easily to sneak away from Clint than Wanda.

Click. Click. Click.

With every step you maneuvered down your heels were noisy. You’d managed to fling your sizable bag over your shoulder and just knew Steve was going to be annoyed with you. But he was an adult. Being adults meant the two of you would have to do things that you didn’t want.

“So help me, if it kills the both of us, you and I will be going out tonight and having a fun time! This is a celebratory weekend! There are festivities going on all over the city!” Wanda went on, yanking you along behind her upon reaching the bottom step and heading in the general direction of the ground floor exits.

Hurrying along behind her, you followed but you weren’t happy about it.

God did you have so much work to do and you really really wanted to spend the night with Steve. And maybe if you gave in to Wanda, she’d get off your ass about your fake boyfriend? Wait, no, your secret boyfriend, because Steve was very real, you just didn’t want to be eviscerated all over the internet and tabloids for dating a king.

You’d seen what happened when a pretty actress had dated then married a prince who didn’t rule his country. The only thing you had going for you was Steve’s country was still looked at with some serious side-eye from the world, due to past events and rulers. Plus, he wasn’t a young prince that had grown up before the eyes of the world. He was a son of a tyrant, a citizen of a sizable nation the world still viewed suspiciously with a questionable human rights record.

“You’re going to love the club! It’s totally new and they open at ten. Meaning we can have plenty of time with the girls!”

Girls?

As in plural?

Because of course this would be a group event. Wanda never half-assed anything.

“Wanda…” you began.

Before Wanda could turn her attention on you, loud shrill lady screams came and you were greeted to the sight of Maria, Okoye and Pepper. All three threw up their arms and grabbed Wanda in a big hug, yanking her away from you and freeing you from her grip.

Loud girl screeches followed.

There was group hopping and hugs and laughter.

It should have made you realize that it’d been so long since you had a fun girls night. It should have reminded you that you were young and your life shouldn’t be all about work and sneaking off with your boyfriend whenever the two of you were able to.

Your heart should have been warmed by the sight of your palace coworkers who were clearly part of the aforementioned Girls.

How long had it been since you had fun?

How long had it been since you’d had a night out on the town?

What were you doing?

Were you jumping and screeching and hugging too?

No.

You were digging into your handbag so you could text Steve real quick. To let him know about your change in plans before he began to think you’d bailed because you were a coward and got cold feet.

Just as your fingers touched the smooth surface of your iPhone…

A noise caught your attention.

Movement.

Peering up to the side at the wall, or what you’d assumed was a hallway wall since you were in another hallway nearly identical to the one upstairs. All while the hugfest continued. You noticed that the wall was at a weird angle. As if it were opening up on a hinge and by the time you realized that the wall was actually an opening to a hidden passageway, a hand grabbed your elbow and yanked you in.

No more than a soft squeak came from you.

In you tumbled.

Into a dimly lit hallway that was actually a passageway you found yourself. With a metal sounding click the wall slid back into place and a big hand fell over your mouth. Making you immediately panic, immediately reach up to grab the hand that was silencing you. Making an arm band around your chest and pull you flush back against a broad muscular body.

“Did you honestly think for one moment that I would allow you to go get drunk with Wanda? Or go to a club with a man that she met for you on Tinder?”

Steve.

It was Steve.

His faint aftershave still burnt your nose but paired with the masculine scent that was him, you relaxed only a little bit, just a smidge.

How the hell did he know all of that? Had he bugged your office? Was he following you?

Deep in your chest your heart pounded wildly. Your skin was on fire. Even though it was dimly lit, you swore you could see each nail and groove in the wooden walls of the hidden passage.

Steve’s shoes were soft on the carpeted floor. Yours however never reached. Your legs dangled. Desperately you stretched out to try and reach your toes down, but alas, Steve was holding you up and was simply that much taller than you. Easily holding you up as he carried you.

His voice an angry snarl, a seething whisp against your ear. “That is so disappointing my love. A failure on both our parts,” came his angry voice. Walking with sure footing and a quick pace through the only barely lit halls.

Turning here and there, quickly and suddenly, until you were very much lost.

A protest came from behind his palm that was crushed against your mouth. Your blood heating with every passing second till it felt as if it were boiling. All that sudden fear was turning into anger at this treatment.

“I’ve clearly failed you if you’re unable to announce with nothing but the utmost certainty that you’re both in a relationship and have no desire to go out clubbing with whomever Clint from Tinder is.” The word clubbing was spat out, as if Steve found it vile on his tongue. “As for you? Yesterday we were discussing where to go for your birthday and today, you refused to answer one of my calls! You have work to do tonight to make up to me your behavior today!”

Further down the hidden passageway you were unceremoniously carried pulled to his front. Your brain racing at warp speed.

You had work to do? You had to make up for your behavior?

Had he lost his damn mind?

Had he not seen the video of his naked nether-regions all over the internet? Or the sex that made the footage a sex tape? The two of you were now amateur porn stars and he was mad that you? Because you were trying to be lowkey until the entire situation blew over? Steve was mad because you were being reasonable?

A most valiant attempt was made to free yourself.

You struggled. You kicked. You flailed and shrilled behind the hand over your mouth. No longer taken by surprise or frightened. Now you were growing angry.

On top of being terrified of being found out in that footage and ridiculed by the world, or worse, chased out of this country by a horde of angry people who didn’t agree with you being the kings choice as not only a foreigner, but one from pretty humble roots. You were upset that the world saw such an intimate moment between the two of you and even if Steve didn’t care that his junk was all over the internet, you cared. You cared a great deal. The royal junk was your junk. It was bad enough you had to know he’d dated women before you who’d seen him nude and were intimate with him, but now the world? It was simply too much for you to comprehend.

Steve slowed and turned, using his elbow he made something pop and a slight crack of light where there was obviously another hidden door in the wall appeared.

Using his broad shoulder, Steve pushed the door open and stepped out into a hallway that led down to the royal chambers and split off.

With his knee, he shoved the hidden panel shut and tightening his grip on you, Steve hurried down that hallway.

A completely different one from where the administrative offices were located.

Rich wooden paneling covered the walls. Making everything appear warmer, lusher. An amber haze hung in the air.

Thick carpet was underfoot. Furniture spoke to its age but had been made with a quality that endured. Like this palace. Built when his land was called something else but had stood through time in proof of his claim to the throne.

Generations before him had ruled, claimed spouses and lovers in these halls, grown old and made history and now it was his turn.

Merely that knowledge had him growing excited in his slacks for a second time that day. All of your thrashing and struggling didn’t help. If anything, it sparked a part of his brain that insisted he ravish and conquer you in his royal bed.

Mouth pressed to your ear, till he felt amber and diamonds press against his lips. “I swear, I will spend the rest of tonight inside of you until things are as they were yesterday. Until you remember that when I speak to you in any manner, you answer. Considering how thoroughly you’ve consumed every last part of me, it is only fair.”

And then, in his slowed pace down the hall ever closer to the door that would lead into Steve’s Royal Apartment, he saw a portrait up on the wall that made him pause.

It was him.

Or his portrait from when he’d turned thirty.

There he stood looking down at you both. Dressed ceremonially in his crown, holding the traditional ruling scepter and wearing the robes from kings of past. Fur, jeweled toned fabric that he’d easily filled out with gold adornments, amber buttons and pipping on his shoulders.

What was most striking about this portrait compared to all the others of Steven throughout the palace, was he was alone in it and unlike all the others, at the time, he’d not been single.

Further making that internal fire burn hotter.

Making him stop and force you to look up at it with him. Framed in a gilded bronze heirloom. Up where he had to look at it to be reminded of what could have been.

“Look! Look!”

You stopped struggling and looked, were well aware of his mouth against your hair.

“See? See it? You could have been there with me. At my side. Wearing my crown. Wearing the robes and jewels of my grandmothers. My queen.”

And indeed you saw.

When you’d seen the finished portrait, you had been blown away at how your body reacted to the sight of your lover in his traditional uniform he only pulled out for big special events. How powerful he looked. How sexy he was wearing a crown, holding a golden scepter with an eagle on the end clutching a piece of amber the size of an egg.

The arm around your chest fell so he could point at the empty space in the picture beside him. “Look. Right there. That is where you would have been. Right there. At my side.”

His hand over your mouth still held you flush against him. Pulled tight against him.

That thought, that entire notion of you painted on a portrait, up there with Steve at his side. It was so surreal to you.

When it was just you and Steve it was fire and gold and everything was amazing. When it was King Steve and his Chief of Staff it was stimulating and exciting. You still weren’t sure about being queen. A queen! That wasn’t like being a princess or a duchess. A queen was different. Even the word felt different.

It made your heart start to pound wildly in your chest again. It made you breathe hard against the back of his hand. It made you have a physiological reaction.

***

This was not how Carol intended to spend her night.

It was not how she wished to start her off-time. Having given Val the update on all things that had transpired for the day as she handed off command of the Royal Guard to her fellow captain.

No sooner had she told Val everything, did one of the messengers from communications come hurrying in. A slip of paper in her hand. A note that changed everything for that night, that week and even that month.

It had left Carol walking through the royal apartments towards the Queen Mother’s rooms.

As she knew exactly what King Steven was doing and quite frankly, she wanted no part in disturbing that unless she absolutely had to.

Besides. The message that had been sent to the palace via royal envoy was meant for Her Majesty. It was best Her Majesty the Queen Mother figured out how best to deal with this coming…situation.

Compared to His Majesty’s Private Rooms, Sarah’s were all light and brightness. White marble and ornate touches. Colorful priceless paintings and large bouquets of fresh flowers in crystal vases. Soft plush furniture held little personal touches. A white chenille throw draped over her couch by a fireplace. Pink slippers sat on the floor. Books both new and ancient with various markers holding her place were scattered about. Fresh flowers. She loved fresh flowers. They were everywhere.

As expected, the door to the Queen Mother’s apartments were open.

Carol still paused outside of it to knock gently.

“Your Majesty?” She called out, looking at her watch to see that it was nearing seven. Around seven was when the queen took her dinner meal privately. Of course she’d leave the door open for kitchen staff to bring up food as usual. It wasn’t one of the nights that was reserved for Steve and his mother to have their dinners together.

After the death of her husband the former king, Sarah had effectively thrown open all the doors that he had imprisoned her with.

Her soft voice drifted out.

Delicate and gentle.

The Queen Mother sat in a large chair by a big window overlooking the city. Her pale hair pulled back at the nape of her neck. A string of pearls tightened and loosened around her fingers as she lowered the book she’d been reading. A pleasant smile came over her soft features.

Upon seeing the stone of Carol’s face, the queen frowned. “What is it? What is wrong?”

Only confirming that something was wrong, Carol shut the door and locked it.

Dinner had been brought up. Smells emanated from the queens private dining room off to the left. It reminded Carol that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning. It had been that kind of a day.

Clasping her hands before her, she rocked back on her heels. “A message was sent by Her Highness Janet Van Dyne. She and her daughter will be at the palace tomorrow…”

Janet and Hope Van Dyne?

Steven’s former fiancée and her mother?

Two golden eyebrows rose, making Carol press on. “Her Highness is under the impression that they’ll be staying here? In the palace?”

All of this was new to Sarah.

She had not heard from Janet since Steve’s coronation. When she and her husband had been in attendance. Earlier that particular year, Hope had broken her engagement with Steven to run away with a Maharaja.

It’d been all over the tabloids.

A young princess of the Netherlands had broken her engagement to the crown prince of an incredibly traditional nation to follow her heart. Hope had spent many years splashed across tabloids and blogs with a handsome charismatic Asian Prince. She’d lost her royal title and gave tell-all interviews about how her family had forbade her from running away and how she’d never marry a man from infamous Rogers Royal Line. And then, oddly, she was back home with her family this year.

Sarah had found it unusual. Alas, she was a busy woman with a life of her own to keep her busy.

“Was anything else in the message,” Sarah wanted to know.

Carol shook her head.

It had been a simple message that was very to the point.

Sighing in a most un-Sarah-like sort of way. She set her book down on the arm of her chair and rose. Tall. Willowy. Pursing her lips. Her dress fell around her in a gauzy cloud.

“Do you want me to tell His Majesty?”

Pausing, the older women considered the question. Dare she tell her son? He deserved to know. Nothing good would come from this visit.

If it were Janet alone? Sarah would not be so suspicious. But Janet and Hope? And that they would come so last minute? After the release of this video footage from the royal sauna?

“Is my son with her?”

Silence.

Carol was quiet.

A noise came from the Queen Mother. A clicking of her tongue. Stepping into her slippers, she pulled the hem of her dress up. “I suppose I should not be surprised that you would keep this from me.”

More quiet came.

“I won’t ask. I’ll find out my own way and leave him be for now. Janet and Hope won’t be here tonight. This can be a problem for tomorrow, today has been difficult enough for us all. Let tomorrow be tomorrow.”

Let tomorrow be tomorrow.

On her other hand was her wedding band. A treasure itself. Now on the widow’s finger. It was so symbolic of the cage she’d lived in for the duration of her marriage.

Absentmindedly, she twisted the rings. “Have you eaten yet?” Pulling them up and down her hand. “I had hoped you would come. I had the kitchen bring up extra.” Off slipped the rings that she had to wear in public. In her hand they jingled until she set them down on a smoothly polished table.

With two heavy clicks, they bounced on the wood by a vase full of peonies. Freeing her for the time being.

“I missed you while you were away.”

A blush bloomed over her porcelain complexion at Carol’s words.

As she watched Carol lock the door to her chambers, a warmth bloomed within her chest. Such words were so simple. So honest. They were words she had not heard before in her life. In this new chapter however, in this new time in her life, she had become accustomed to kind words and compassion.

“I missed you as well.” She confessed, stepping closer and still keeping space between them. As some habits died hard. “Stay with me? Tonight?”

“There is nothing I want more, Sarah.”

***

As it turned out, now you were ready to talk.

However.

Unfortunately.

Steve was now past that point and was on a whole other page.

You found yourself protesting when he carried you into his bedroom like some manner of caveman would carry a slab of meat. Shrilling out when he yanked and ripped and tore at your dress, forcing it over your head after ripping fabric and popping buttons, till it was an unsalvageable heap of material and threads.

Which was an absolute tragedy.

You loved that dress.

You even pointed out that fact to him somewhere between the threshold of his bedroom and his massive bed that really was fit for a king.

It was so big!

A headboard wider than Wanda’s itty-bitty car was long. An elaborate collection of regal flourishes and shapes. Dark sheets so soft they were slippery awaited you as you screeched and hollered, letting out an outraged sound when your bra was popped then yanked roughly from you.

“Steven!” You admonished your king, toes digging deep into the thick carpet as you’d lost your shoes back in the hallway leading to his quarters.

This whole evening was going off the rails for you. There was no other way to put it.

Dim sconces on the wall lit the way. Highly effective mood lighting if you ever saw it. Allowing you to see the set in Steve’s face, the firm line of his mouth.

His fingers wrapped around the back of your neck so he could hold you close, ground out for your benefit. “All day long I tried. Calls. Messages. Texts. Did you want to talk? No. You ignored me. Now I do not wish to talk either.”

Pushing you forward, you found yourself stumbling but knew if you didn’t walk on your own, Steve would merely toss you up on his bed. Up on the sea of pillows. Framed by gilded silver and dark curtains that came down from above to allow for privacy.

“All day long you denied me. I’ll remind you what is mine until you’re thinking clearly again. Until we’re back where we were yesterday!”

“I’m ready to talk now! I’m in a place where I can discuss this with you! I am thinking clearly!”

Words were not needed.

Oh no.

Not when the king grabbed your hand, pulled your arm back and pressed your palm against his straining erection. Hot to the touch. Shockingly hard. Painfully so even you were willing to bet.

Your knees hit the bed and you were pushed forward till you fell over, till you wound up on the expanse of bedding in a tangle of hands and knees and that silky smooth material.

A big explosion came from Steve. Feeling like and you were flailing on your stomach, trapped beneath his oppressive weight and the bed. Fighting. Wiggling. Trying to get free from beneath him but bigger stronger arms had your wrists.

Something was being wrapped around your wrists that you couldn’t see, as your vision was impeded by the broad chest in your face. Right there. Blocking your line of sight. Pinning you down to the sea of grey until finally, finally, he was up and you were once more struggling, wiggling, jerking and finding that you were tied to the headboard.

You were tied to the headboard. You were naked and bound to his bed.

Silky fabric that was Steve’s tie bound your wrists snugly together and wove into the headboard, securing you there most soundly.

It was outrageous! It was absurd!

You were tied to his headboard!

It was a first for you.

When your gaze returned to your boyfriend and even that was now a bit questionable, you were greeted to the sight of Steve shedding his suit. Yanking off each garment without pause or care. A few tears were heard and he was far rougher than need be. A button or two may have flown off.

“You cannot be serious! That’s your plan? You’re going to take what’s yours? Are you serious? This is not the dark ages!”

Ignoring you, Steve shoved his slacks down his long legs. Allowing his rigid cock to bob obscenely. Causing an eyeroll to immediately come from you. A hint of something dark on his hip caught your eye. But it was only a flash and as he was moving, yanking off his suit jacket and fiercely ripping open buttons on his shirt, you couldn’t get a good look.

Was it a bruise? A tattoo?

Somehow you doubted kings were even allowed to have tattoos. Or that Steve even had the time to get himself permanently inked. When the hell did he get that bruise?

Momentarily distracted by him climbing up on the bed, you looked up to give your bindings a good hard yank.

No luck.

Steve’s weight was pushing you down. Shoving you into the bed. Pinning you down as you protested, implored and began to plea. Which was exactly what he wanted. After everything you had put him through today? You would beg. You would plead. You would forget all about that video.

“Open your mouth.”

It was an order.

It could be nothing less.

An absolute command that had your lips slowly parting as your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden treatment, this roughness. Steve held his painful erection in hand and pushed his tip to your lips. Pushed the red end of his cock sticky with precum past your lips. Till you were forced to open your mouth wider and wider for him. To take him deeper and deeper into your mouth.

Steve held your gaze and pushed his member in further. Straddling your chest and gripping his headboard in one hand, till it dug into his fingers. While his other hand grabbed your face to hold it tight.

You’d never be able to take all of him. He knew this. You’d never been able to no matter how much you’d tried. But he wanted to see how much he could fit in your mouth tonight.

“Don’t swallow. Don’t let me down again.”

Your mouth was so warm closing around him. Wet. Sacred. It made him want to close his eyes to sink in deep but Steve would not. He would do that soon enough. He would lose himself in your cunt soon enough.

A few small movements from his hips sank his cock deeper into your mouth. Filling your cheeks as you struggled. Until you found a motion of moving up and down his length, running your tongue along his sides. Wetting up his shaft till sloppy noises started to fill his ears and a small little dribble began to moisten the corners of your mouth.

Those blue eyes remained set on your own. Never once showing you mercy.

“Tomorrow. In the future. If I call or text, you will answer.”

There was no follow-up. Nor was it a question.

Long fingers that belonged on an artist or musician sank into your hair tightly.

All you could do was nod as drool rolled down your chin and you suckled his cock like you would a popsicle, without swallowing, sucking on his sensitive flesh as he liked and without the aid of your own hands to steady his member.

It was glorious and Steve could only slightly appreciate it. As the words that fell from his mouth were more important, more vital.

Feeling how wet your mouth was getting was fantastic. Absolutely. Your nimble tongue was a gift. No one had ever sucked his cock like you.

However…he was still frustrated, still angry, still hurt even.

He’d not worked his way through those feelings as of yet.

Perhaps? In your body?

Those feelings teased and taunted him with his unworthiness. Of how you hadn’t been firmer with your roommate. How you had allowed her to drag you down the stairs for a night out with possibly another man? It infuriated him. It sent his hips rocking into your mouth. It had his cock rubbing up along the back of your throat and made your eyes water.

No.

Steve would not lose you. He loved you too much to even entertain such a notion. No. Infact, he would make sure that he ruined you. By the end of the night, he would make certain that you’d never even amused the notion of being set up. He would be completely sure that when you left his chambers come morning, you would never be doubted when you told Wanda or anyone that you had a partner.

“I want to start publicly courting you. I want to be engaged this year. I do not want to hide any longer. When people look at you, I want them to know that you belong to me.”

Noises came around his cock that Steve knew were words and he did not care.

“Look at yourself.” Steve stilled, his words harsh, bitter even. “You have my cock in your mouth and I am completely at your mercy. Tied to the bed of kings because I cannot go one night without dreaming of you, fantasizing about your tight cunt and smooth skin. I would give you the world and all you want is nothing. You are the worst type of infuriating.”

As if to prove his point, he steadily pumped his pelvis up into your mouth. Each slide in pushed saliva and pre-ejaculate out, making it ooze from the seal of your lips around his erection. Against your throat his wet balls bounced. His ass rested on your chest and he could not get enough. More. He wanted more. He needed more. Craved more.

The urge to go harder was strong.

Steve wanted so badly to fuck you. To make you feel how much you drove him mad. How you caused him physical pain from longing alone.

With drool smeared down your chin and neck, never looking more beautiful in his opinion, Steve pulled his dick out. Done with your mouth for now. Needing more. Needing to grab your tits and to be closer to your face, looking closer into your eyes.

In a familiar sort of way, your throat bobbed.

“Did you just swallow when I specifically told you not to?”

A moment of hesitation followed from you that had Steve gripping your face, easing his body down yours but holding your slippery chin tight in his grip. Your eyes were wide. Again, probably without even realizing, you swallowed in nervousness.

“I’m…I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry what,” he demanded, leaning down closer, licking the wetness from your chin and earning from you a most satisfying shiver that wracked your body.

“S-s-sorry, Your Majesty.”

His tongue was hot and wet on your chin. His body was heavy and hot on your own. Skin on skin contact made your brain short circuit. It was a miracle you could string those syllables together. With your hands bound so snugly to the bed. All you could do was take it. Take what he gave you.

Feeling him push your thighs open and position himself between your hips made you gasp. Words failed you.

And then words didn’t even matter because he was pushing into you. Claiming you. Taking what was his because you did belong to him. You belonged to him in every possible way.

A scream exploded out of you when he dove right in. Sank in till his crown was pressed up against the wall of your cervix. Deeper than anyone had ever been before. Hands were grabbing your ankles and spreading you wide. Spearing you on his cock. Stretching your body taut.

“So wet. You were made to take me. Made to take your king.” He whispered more to himself even though you heard. You would have heard a pin drop. You could hear your heart pound and blood rush through your ears, each gasp your lungs took. You could feel every last inch of him deep inside your core. Painfully stretching you open like this. Burning. Tingling. Twisting.

Hands tightened on your ankles till you looked up at Steve. Hovering over you like a pillaging warlord about to ravish his prize.

“You have till Monday to decide how you wish us to become public. I will not wait a day longer.”

Seeing you like this before him. Splayed out. Your pussy curled around his member, plump from being filled with your breasts round puddles up on your chest. It set his hips into a frenzy. Powerful thrusts were sent into your tight walls that made Steve grunt every time from the power behind his motions, from the sight of his cock vanishing up into you. Watching your pussy take him so hungrily as you cried out beneath him each time. Breasts swaying. Skin slapping on skin with the contact. Your hips jiggled, his headboard creaked, his balls slapped soundly against you both.

“Say it. Say the words to me. Say them!” Steve commanded you. Pieces of his hair falling and sticking to his sweaty forehead as he sank in to the very depths of you then pulled out, revealing a glistening shaft before slamming his member right back in where it belonged.

“Yes…yes…yes…yes…” you chanted, over and over, again and again with every thrust in, every withdraw that was like heaven and hell, your body needing him to complete this circuit only the two of you could create. “…yes…yes…my king…yes my king…”

Those words. They were a song to his ears and had your ankles slapped together. Those words had the backs of your thighs slapped wetly against his chest, your feet touching his shoulder as Steve continued to pound into you.

Pumping into your now closed thighs, into your tighter walls at this angle.

“Look!”

Dimly your eyes fluttered, you looked into his burning blue eyes.

“Look. Here.”

You followed his gaze to where he pointed, looking down at his pelvis, where his hip met his abdomen in that hard cut of muscle that was visible above his beltline. The one you loved to lick.

He did have a tattoo.

It took you a second to realize what you were looking at and focus, as his thrusts continued without mercy, pounding away, slamming into you without mercy. Shaking and pushing you into his bed.

Your writing was inked into his skin. Your very own signature.

Your name was forever scrawled into Steve’s skin and then, it hit you. Your climax took you by complete surprise. Your entire body went stiff. A pained noise came from you and you shattered all around his cock. Fingernails dug into your palm and you stared at your name in cruel ecstasy.

Steve fell too. You could tell from his thrusts getting wild, falling out of sync. You could tell because he swore out, clenched his face and held your thighs tight to his chest.

Pumping deeply into you while your body milked him for everything he had to give.

Making him merely a man in that moment with you.

Up on his headboard, you were tightly secured and would soon have bruises from arching up against the silk tie restraining you. Unable to do anything but feel and accept what your king was giving you. On your back. In a bed that past kings had slept in.

None of which was lost on you.

Not as your body felt leaden, filled with molten hot lava. Limp. Your secret garden continued to suck him in, clench around him and spasm, making your eyes roll up in your head, your body dig into his bed and words fall from your mouth.

In a most dignified sort of manner, your king humped into your body like a jack rabbit, chasing the last vestiges of his climax with coral wet lips and dark honey hair now damp with sweat.

A sight for your satiated eyes.

“Let me call my mother in the morning.” You breathed out slowly, as if figuring out how your lungs worked once more after a marathon. Your words making Steve still above you. Though your cunt did not. It twitched around his royal girth and you met his gaze from on his pillows. “Tomorrow you can have Maria release a statement saying whatever you want. Just let me tell my parents myself. They should hear from me that I’m not coming home.”

Whatever wind that may have held up his sails had clearly been withdrawn.

Almost tenderly now, Steve leaned forward to quickly loosen the silk around your wrists and free your hands from his headboard. Stretching out his long powerful body above you. Flushed red now. Glistening. Though he left his tie there. He remained inside of you too. Filling you and stretching you full.

Gently, he pushed your legs down until they wrapped around him and he was able to rest his weight most carefully on top of you. Pressing wet kisses to your nose, your cheeks and chin. Worshipping your face with delicate touches and caresses.

“I’ll fly them out here whenever you want. When we get back from Switzerland, I’ll have them waiting for you.”

Softly you answered, reveling in his softness now that your body had been given her reward, her treat, her pleasure from his roughness. Smelling the musk of his sweat and feeling the wet glide between your bodies.

Leisurely, your hands found their way up his muscular arms to his shoulders. “You know what I mean. I won’t ever be their daughter again. I won’t ever be Wanda’s roommate. I’ll have to quit my job. Nothing will ever be the same.”

Those words, well, they settled uncomfortably in him.

All of them were true.

You would be giving up so much. He would have to make sure to take care of you even more so, keep a closer eye on you. He would need to have a talk with his mother come morning.

“That’s true,” Steve softly conceded, rubbing his nose along your own. Barely grazing his lips over yours. A hint of a tongue touched you before his breath danced over your mouth. “We would be together though. Finally together. You. Me. Not hiding anymore.”

Speaking of hiding.

That word alone had you pulling away from his mouth to lean to the side, to get a look down at his Adonis belt. At the alluring groove that led down to his pubes where your name was now in black.

Nay, your signature.

As if sensing what you were after, your boyfriend tilted up a smidge. Enough for you to see but not enough for him to leave your body. Pray tell that couldn’t happen.

“When did you do this?”

“Do you like it,” Steve asked, as if your opinion mattered. Which was laughable considering how permanent it was.

He’d literally took your signature and had it tattooed on his body.

“Of course I love it. Now you have a part of me on you all the time.” An incredibly modern take on Steve’s royal jewel gift thing, but in reverse you thought. Then grinned as it sank in. “I can’t believe you did it though.”

Why wouldn’t he have done it?

Steve hadn’t thought twice when Maria had gone on about getting her late mother’s writing tattooed on her side, in a lasting forever tribute. Having your writing on him at all times had been an idea that hadn’t left him. Not until he’d had a tattoo artist praised for their work brought to the palace late the other night.

He wasn’t even going to lie, king or not, there was something downright satisfying about having something like this hidden on his body from all. Known only by you and him. A secret only for you two.

Bringing him right back to the thought that the biggest secret the two of you shared would soon be out.

Soon it would be public knowledge and that had Steve brushing his fingertips over your cheeks, kissing the swell of your cheekbone and moving ever just so to make a small moan come from you. “You’ll never regret this. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. I’ll devote myself to making you happy. You’ll never regret becoming my queen.”

[earnestly-endlessly]

I love your fic recs! Do you have any with Protective!Erik?

Protective! Erik is one of my favourite tropes so I have a TON of fics to share with you. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

Protective! Erik fic recs

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Saving the Universe By Meeting Your Soul-Mate and Falling in Love in Less than 72 Hours – madneto, Pangea

Summary: Army Pilot Erik Lehnsherr is just trying to enjoy his day off when a mostly naked person crashes through the roof of his car. Even more alarming, the strange falling naked person—who goes by Charles Xavier when he's not speaking an ancient dead language—brings tidings of the apparent potential end of the world, and begs Erik to help him put a stop to it.

Well. His mother has been nagging at him to go out and meet new people.

In Sound and Silence – endingthemes

Summary: Erik is assigned to care for the special patient in room 301.

How Not To Meet Your Future Boyfriend – ikeracity

Summary: Erik punches Charles in the face the first time they meet. There isn't anywhere their relationship can go from there but up.

Forgotten – FuryRed

Summary: Charles is having a really bad day. Not only has he woken up in the middle of the afternoon with no idea where he is or how he got there, but when he returns home he’s confronted by a stranger with intense eyes, who insists that he knows Charles rather more intimately than Charles remembers…

Thou Shalt Not Eat Stones – valancysnaith

Summary: Two months after Washington, Raven found Erik in a skeevy motel off the Florida interstate.

“They have Charles, Erik,” she said.

The bedframe shrieked. In the bathroom, the showerhead snapped in half and clattered into the tub.

Demoted – JayPendragon

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a detective-specialist with the NYPD Mutant Tactical Unit, ready to help out where his skills are needed. Or he would be, if he and his partner hadn’t been demoted. For the next four months, he is patrolling the Lenox Hill precinct with Azazel – if he doesn’t die of boredom first. One night they are called in to investigate a potential case of domestic violence, yet the tenant assures them he is both alone and unharmed. However, there is something about this Charles Xavier that compels Erik to follow up.

Warning: Sensitive material, domestic abuse and dubious consent

Watch Your Back – swoopswoop

Summary: Bodyguard AU where Erik is overly protective and things aren't as simple as they seem.

If We Met Differently – swoopswoop

Summary: Erik wasn't the only mutant 'taken in' by Shaw, Erik learns this the hard way when a new mutant is dropped into his cell. They manage to escape together, but things aren't all roses after that. Erik has a score to settle and needs to make sure Charles is safe.

The Color of Love (Character Swap Remix) – BadLuckBlueEyes

Summary: Nobody sees in color until they meet their soulmates. When your soulmate dies, your vision returns to black and white. What happens when your soulmate only dies for a few minutes?

Omega Online – miss_aphelion

Summary: Newly imprinted Charles is having trouble dealing with his overly protective alpha—so in desperation he seeks advice in an omega chat room. Emma Frost is more than happy to help, Raven isn't helping at all, and Erik can't stand to be out of touch with Charles for more than five minutes at a time.

Cannot be Contained in Words – wallhaditcoming (uvcatastrophe) 

Summary: Crime syndicate head Erik Lehnsherr travels to London on business, where he meets oxford student Charles Xavier. Their liaison spawns into a years long transatlantic affair, kept apart by Erik's work and Charles' studies,which Erik chronicles in photographs. When distance ceases to be an issue after four long years, the overlap between Charles' past and Erik's work create a whole new set of complications.

A Pertinent Reminder – ikeracity, Pangea

Summary: Sometimes it's easy to forget that getting involved in Erik's mob business isn't all fine dining and sex on yachts. There's nothing like taking a couple of bullets to remind Charles of the reality.

Part 3 of the Associates series

A Dangerous Game – ikeracity, pangea

Summary: When a familiar enemy of Erik's returns to the city for some old-fashioned revenge, Charles is sucked deeper into the world of the mob than ever before.

Part 6 of the Associates series

You don’t choose the thug life (except when you do) – Anonymous

Summary: Charles is kidnapped and discovers that Erik, the Alpha he has been dating for the past few months and is head-over-heels for, is not just a wealthy businessman but actually the head of a syndicate.

He is rather unhappy about this discovery and Erik gets an earful for lying to him. Then Charles is kidnapped again and really, he hopes mating Erik won't result in weekly kidnapping because he has a thesis to finish and papers to grade.

Marrying a Mob – Ook

Summary: Charles is a teacher at a very exclusive school. When armed men burst in on the trail of two children, of course he stands up to them and gets hurt. The children are Erik Lehnsherr's children (of course); a "prominent businessman" or, less politely, "mobster".

Erik is grateful to Charles for saving his children's lives at the cost of his kneecap. So very grateful.

Naturally he tries to reward Charles for his actions. Equally naturally, Charles will be having none of that.

Azazel finds the whole thing unspeakably hilarious. Naturally.

Rumor Has It – blueink3

Summary: "Did I hear the doorbell earlier?"

"Yeah, but I'd steer clear if I were you. It seemed a little tense. I don't know what's going on, but there's a kid out there who looks freakily like the prof."

Nearly six months after Cuba, Charles' life is turned upside down for the second time. Though he's slowly learning to adapt to the first, he's not sure he can handle the second. Luckily for him, there are a few people out there more than willing to help.

Forward Momentum – AsYouWish

Summary: Six months after Cuba, Charles and Erik find themselves thrown fifty years into the future, where they meet their older selves, the Avengers, and a world that's very different from their own. Faced with the pieces of their broken relationship, an unparalleled adversary, and dealing with Tony Stark on a daily basis, Charles and Erik do their best to adapt while trying to find a way back home -- and to each other.

Runs in the Family – Anonysquirrel (chibirisuchan)

Summary: Alex knew his own reputation. Hell, he'd started some of his own reputation, because it kept some of the smarter thugs off his back. Everyone knew Alex's reputation. There was no way Hank didn't know his reputation, but he'd brought Alex into a house with some really expensive things and a lot of innocent little kids and his too-friendly, too-harmless dad.

But clearly Hank hadn't told his family anything about Alex, just like he hadn't told Alex anything about his family. At least, not about the brain-breaking parts of his family.

"I didn't know where to start," Hank said, for the dozenth time.

Featuring mpreg!Charles in a Kiss The Cook apron, overprotective!Erik in wet black leather, and baked goods. Lots and lots of baked goods.

Round the Corner Waiting – swoopswoop

Summary: When things go so spectacularly wrong during a relationship, Charles - now a single dad - almost makes a big mistake, only to be stopped by a mysterious man who just might turn his life back around.

Hide Your Fires – swoopswoop

Summary: As the sole heir, Prince Charles, had no problem with the roles and responsibility that would come with ruling a kingdom. Though he was the only one who did not see a problem. After years of being shuttled back and forth between kingdoms, his Regent hoping he would find a match more suitable to being King, he is finally sent to Genosha. Though the path has never been less clear than the one to a foreign kingdom with no ties to his native land.

Shaw’s Captive – swoopswoop

Summary: Magneto killed Shaw, it had to be done for the sake of mutant-kind but what he wasn't expecting to find hidden deep with Shaw's complex was a man held captive, obviously tortured, that somehow made Magneto turn into Erik.

Erik now has a potential human in his citadel as he continues the war with the human's.

Mind’s Eye Blind – Sperare 

Summary: As far as Erik is concerned, if you want to scare a person into talking, you have to present him with something more compelling than what he stands to lose...

And there is nothing in the world more compelling than Charles.

Chipped – Rosawyn 

Summary: Magneto's fledgling Brotherhood find Charles Xavier in a mutations research lab as an apparently willing subject for an experimental suppression device.

Okay, I Feel Better Now – Harleydoll

Summary: The AU in which Erik is sent to a mental health facility after being convicted for Shaw's murder and pleads insanity, and Charles is his paranoid schizophrenic of a roommate. Powers, Hellfire conspiracies, protective!Erik, and of course the inevitable angst.

Five Nights in Nuremberg – FuryRed

Summary: When Charles escapes from the mutant prison he has been held in for the last two years he knows that he’s going to need help to avoid being recaptured.

What he doesn’t expect is that help will come in the form of a mysterious German man who rescues Charles and takes him to his home; a handsome stranger who, frustratingly, doesn’t speak a single word of English…

Five Bullet Points – Sperare

Summary: It was supposed to be Erik locked away in a prison one hundred stories below the ground.

Charles was never supposed to be there with him.

Notes: Unfinished but an excellent read. Highly recommend it.

Stolen – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is a miserable, grumpy, cantankerous bastard, and he has every fucking right to be. He drew the short end of the stick when he got the Underworld as his domain, and there isn't very much fun to be had in judging and governing dead souls who would rather be anywhere else but with Erik in the depths of Hell.

So when he meets Charles, brilliant and lovely Charles who is more popularly known amongst the mortals as Persephone, and feels the promise of something wonderful that could make his eternally doomed existence infinitely more bearable... you can bet all your drachmas Erik's not going to let Charles go any fucking time soon.

My Barbaric Darling – baehj2915

Summary: Erik is revivified caveman. Charles is the anthropologist(?) taking care of him. This is as ridiculous as it sounds. Romcom misunderstandings and prehistoric wooing ensues.

Swimming with Sharks – Not_You

Summary: Erik used to be a shark. Now he's not, and has to figure out how to be a good human father to his twins. Charles is willing to help.

Eucalyptus leaf of my soul - kageillusionz, ourgirlfriday

Summary: Zookeeper Raven at Taronga Zoo keeps having ideas on how to capitalize on interest in the zoo mascots, Koala Charles and Drop Bear Erik (the only drop bear in captivity!), who have captured the hearts and minds of the public. First it was to introduce prospective mates (It’ll generate attention, Hank. People are perverts. They’d love to see koala porn.). This idea was not effective the first through fifth attempts, as Erik and Charles seemed to show at best polite interest in the newcomer before resuming whatever marsupial debate they had going. However, the resulting lesbian koala orgies did indeed generate interest. Then Raven unveiled the Hug-A-Koala program, which was successful, as the public showed great interest in hugging Charles, and Charles seemed to enjoy being hugged.

Then Raven unveiled the Hug-A-Drop Bear program, and Hank, not for the first time, wished he had a flask handy.

Notes: Yes, they’re Koalas, yes they’re adorable, and yes, Erik is super protective even as a Drop Bear.

[bucky-hues]

stucky fic recs

here are some stucky fic recs! as always, be sure to read the warnings for each fic <3

one shots

finding home | @thedamageofherdays

cap steve x modern bucky

After he is caught in a terrible rainstorm while hiking, Bucky is glad to find shelter at the cottage Steve shares with his daughter and his dog. Bucky ends up finding so much more than just a safe place to spend the night.

x | @dreadlockholiday

steve x bucky

Request: Bucky looking through a glossy magazine and saying something like "God, can you imagine being paid for just looking cute?" And without thought Steve replies, "you'd be a millionaire" and Bucky just blushes furiously while Steve's all like 😳 *oh no, I just said that out loud*

x | @dreadlockholiday (18+)

steve x bucky

Bucky finds his BFF Steve's sketchbook... and it's full of nothing but sketches of Bucky... naked.

sweethearts | @musette22

steve x bucky

Steve confesses his feelings to Bucky using sweethearts

my moon, my man | @musette22 (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

AU meet-cute. Strangers on a Train, but with less murder and more sexual tension.

make it till you fake it | AggressiveWhenStartled (AO3)

steve x bucky

“Ned,” Peter said, like a drowning man sighting land. “Ned. Captain America and the Winter Soldier are fake dating right now and it is the most painfully awkward and obvious thing I have ever seen, all of us want to die, Ned.”

things my heart used to know | Nightwing11 (AO3)

steve x bucky

In a world where soulmates can communicate telepathically with their partners, Steve Rogers has always had Bucky Barnes with him, a calming voice in a sea of turmoil. And, when Bucky falls off the train during World War II, Steve experiences deafening silence for the first time.

Now, after crashing a plane in the Arctic to save the world and being frozen for 70 years, Steve’s still trying to figure out how to live without Bucky there. His new friends are trying to help him adjust, to move on. And he thought he was doing better, he really did.

So, why is he suddenly hearing Bucky’s voice again?

catfish | @buckmebxrnes (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve Rogers is a famous movie star, known for his role as Captain America. Bucky Barnes is a bored law student who drinks too much wine. Bucky gets on match.com to boost his confidence. What he doesn't expect is a guy using Steve Rogers' pictures on a dating profile. Bucky decides to mess with the guy. After all, what idiot uses Steve Rogers' pictures on a dating site?

Not like it's really him, right? Bucky may need more wine.

let's go have fun | @sebastanbucky

steve x bucky

“Nat wanted me to-” Nat clears her throat and he rolls his eyes. “I wanted to tell you something.” He looks at Steve with a look he hopes says ‘play along’. “Okay. What did you want to tell me?” Bucky has to take a deep breath to keep from laughing again, it helps with his performance as Nat nods encouragingly at him. “I’m gay.” He says, making his voice sound shaky and weak.

the way you came around | sokaless (AO3)

steve x bucky

After a while, Bucky says, “You know, this song sounds like it was written for you.” “That's funny,” Steve remarks. “I chose it because it reminded me of you.” Steve gives Bucky an iPod full of his favourite songs from the 21st century to help him deal with his nightmares. Bucky has a new mission- to find out who Steve is in love with, because there are a few too many unrequited love songs on that iPod.

stuck on you | wearing_tearing (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

“Bucky? You don’t look so hot.”

Bucky makes a tiny little sound in the back of his throat, only to start coughing. Of course he doesn’t look hot. He’s sick and he’s dying and Steve obviously isn’t attracted to him.

you have the place next to my place | justanotherStonyfan (AO3)

cap steve x modern bucky

prompt: “We live in adjacent apartments and our bedrooms are on opposite sides of a very thin wall and one night I heard you crying and talked to you through the wall” AU

Captain America helps the Vet next door.

you’ve got (30) new matches | williamkaplans (AO3)

steve x bucky

When everyone finds out Steve's bi thanks to Bucky's recovering memories, Natasha kicks up her match-making into high gear. Steve has zero luck, but Natasha won't give up, especially when Sam (jokingly) suggests online dating. It isn't long before Steve finds someone, a someone who seems eerily familiar.

perfectly right wrong number | melonbutterfly (AO3)

cap steve x modern bucky

It all starts because Steve is too dumb to handle his smartphone.

A wrong number AU in which Bucky Barnes doesn't enter Steve's life (meaning: Bucky wasn't born until the eighties, but Steve is still Captain America) until Steve accidentally dials the wrong number. Wherein there is a lot of texting, some advice via Natasha and Darcy, a bit of pining, and a first date in an amusement park. Oh, and on top of being a disabled veteran, Bucky is a professional catwalker. Literally.

put your number in my phone | MacksDramaticShenanigans (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve tucks his phone back into his pocket and turns back to the computer. He only has to click a few times before he finds the link to the questionnaire and opens it, inputting the participant number before hitting next. The beginnings of the consent form fills the page, and all Steve has left to do now is wait for the participant— one James Barnes, according to the website— to show up.

Thankfully, Steve doesn’t end up having to wait very long. James Barnes shows up ten minutes early and knocks on the door before cracking it open and peeking in.

“Oh, hi,” he says, when he spots Steve sitting at the desk. He pushes the door open all the way and steps into the room just as Steve spins in the chair to face him.

“Um, I’m, uh, a bit early, but I’m here for the decision making study,” James continues, clear blue eyes flickering around the room before landing on Steve again. The skin between his eyebrows crinkles up a little, and god, Steve probably shouldn’t find his uncertainty as cute as he does. “Am I in the right place?”

wouldn’t it be nice | MacksDramaticShenanigans (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

"You are never going to believe what just happened," Bucky bemoans, shaking his head. He's at Steve's side in a moment and doesn't bother to give any warning before he dramatically falls into Steve's lap. Steve just barely manages to save his book from getting squashed.

"What is it?" Steve asks, matching Bucky's dramatic tone. "What am I not going to believe?"

"I just got off the phone with Natasha," he starts. "She cancelled on me!" Bucky throws his arms up, nearly smacking Steve in the face in the process.

Steve carefully places his hand on Bucky's forearm and lowers it away from his face.

"You're kidding," he says, a frown curving onto his lips at the news.

"I wish I was," he sighs. Bucky presses his lips together into a disappointed line and deflates against the back of the couch, slinking down Steve's thighs a little. "Who goes to Coney Island alone? How pathetic is that?"

Steve snorts, earning a glare from Bucky, and pats Bucky's thigh. "Aw, don't be such a sourpuss, Buck," he says. "Who said anything about going alone?"

all jokes aside | darksknight (AO3)

steve x bucky

"Before we know it Banner’s gonna be makin’ insinuations.” (Everyone "jokes" about Steve and Bucky being in a relationship until, eventually, they admit that they are.)

barnes & rogers and the goddamn truth

steve x bucky (teacher au)

There are three well-known facts at Shield High:

1. The history teacher Mr. Barnes is a stone-cold terror, and it’s not even because he only has one arm. 2. The other history teacher, Mr. Rogers, is a mysterious enigma, and it’s something to do with the body of a Greek God and contradicting stories of his past. (They’re all rumours, anyway.) 3. Mr Barnes and Mr Rogers hate each other.

Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.

in the shadows | DragonWannabe (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky

Five times they thought they were almost caught, one time someone found out, and one time they didn't have to hide.

OR:

Bucky and Steve grew up in a time when people like them went to jail.

single and looking | Jaiden_S (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky

"Bucky held his place with his index finger and turned the magazine over to check the date on the cover. It was brand new, just out this month. An unexpected cord of anxiety tightened in Bucky’s chest. Single and looking? Frantically, he flipped back to the article. What exactly was Steve looking for? According to the article, Steve’s dream girl should be intelligent, altruistic, well-versed in current events and have a wicked sense of humor. Oh, and he had a thing for high heels and red lipstick. Bucky’s stomach churned as he re-read the article. Was that really what Steve wanted? Make-up and stilettos?"

A slightly sappy tale of two utterly besotted super-soldiers who excel at miscommunication.

these american dreams (ain’t no white picket fences left for me) | kariye (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky

In which Bucky has a house, a dog, an herb garden, and a serious case of insomnia. Welcome to Havensport, Indiana (population 8,294), where Tom’s Neighborhood Grocer stays open all night, little old ladies call the car shop to get their refrigerators repaired, and the heat of summer days and the length of summer nights can make you think that this perfect world will last forever.

i’ve been careless with a delicate man | paraxdisepink (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky

Steve lets SHIELD think he and Bucky were boyfriends so they’ll let him see the Winter Soldier in medical.

knock on wood | 74days (AO3) 

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve Rogers lives a quiet, steady life, until his next door neighbour moves in and starts having incredibly energetic sex every night. All Steve wants is for him to move his bed away from the wall so the damn headboard doesn't knock a hole through his wall.

progressively bigger keys | spinawren (AO3)

steve x bucky

“A very little key will open a very heavy door.” ― Charles Dickens, Hunted Down

Steve and Bucky, it appears, have less need for a key and more use for a battering ram in trying to come out of the closet.

(The one where Steve tries to do one thing (one thing!) without causing a national ruckus, but the press are determined to see Bucky as Steve's best friend. And nothing more.)

stucky discover gay rights | Alicia_Borealis (AO3)

steve x bucky

“Then, why-” Steve stopped himself and looked at Bucky, who had tears rolling freely down his cheeks. “We’re- we’re not sick?”

“Wait, what?” Tony asked.

“Being a homosexual, it isn’t… wrong?”

-

The story of how Steve Roger's loved and lost Bucky, then how he got him back and then how he realised he was allowed to love him after all.

thursday nights with bucky barnes | Ellessey (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve has a comfortable, well-worn routine for his Thursday nights, until the old man who runs the laundromat breaks his hip.

Then Steve has Bucky instead.

to seek a nood-er world | jehans (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky

Send noodz

Steve has been staring at his phone for the last six minutes, eyes narrowed so much they’re almost closed at this point, trying to figure out what the hell Bucky means. Noodz? What the fuck are noodz?

Listen, Steve is at least marginally aware of modern pop culture. He’s heard of nudes — not that nudes are exactly a modern invention; artists have been creating them for millennia — and he does know that people tend to misspell words to be cute or funny. They did that when he was young, too. Because time is a flat circle, apparently.

But, wait—does that mean…?

No. Not possible. Bucky isn’t asking Steve to send him…nudes.

Right?

tied ‘round your throat | sleepypercy (AO3) (18+)

police officer steve x serial killer bucky

Steve's a small-town police officer trying to track a serial killer who's been in Steve's bed the whole time.

much tattoo about nothing | Deisderium (AO3) (18+)

cap steve x modern bucky

Steve Rogers gets a lot of email requests, but never one like this: James Barnes wants to use his healing factor to practice tattoos.

Turns out tattoos give Steve boners.

the perfect man | Ellessey (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Setting up a dating profile is decidedly not in Bucky's skill-set, but against all odds he manages to connect with someone who makes the one-night stand he thought he wanted feel like not nearly enough.

kiss me and take off your clothes | steveandbucky (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve Rogers is dared to send a dick pic to a blog which critiques dick pics (run by none other than Bucky Barnes). Hilarity ensues.

i can’t dare to dream about you anymore | steveandbucky (AO3) 

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve considers himself to be a pretty open-minded guy, which is why he can't quite understand why he feels so uncomfortable whenever he sees his gay roommate kissing guys. He's not homophobic, but how else can he explain the way his stomach twists at the sight?

It takes him a while to catch on.

exam room b | steveandbucky (AO3)

modern steve x nurse bucky

“Wait, what do you mean he asked for me?”

“He asked if the cute male nurse with the ponytail was working today. I assume he meant you.”

kickstart my heart | Kalee60 (AO3) (18+)

doctor steve x modern bucky

Bucky’s Wednesday wasn’t off to a great start. Not only did he wake up in a hospital with his annoyed best friend staring down at him, his treating Doctor just happened to be way too familiar, and the reason for that was slightly mortifying.

With misunderstandings in the air, a snarky nurse who is a pain in his butt and the ugliest neck brace known to man attached to his body. There was no way his Wednesday was ever going to improve. Could it?

you make me feel.. | kalika_999 (AO3) (18+)

cap steve x modern bucky

All Steve wanted was to take a breather, decompress after a mission and go out for a jog in the rain. He wasn't expecting to hide out in a bookstore filled with new and used books or that the employee that worked there thought he was an absolute loser and didn't even realize he was insulting Captain America.

nothing in the world that could stop it | rainbow_nerds (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Bucky just wanted to send his best friend a picture of his cat being an idiot while he was taking a bath. Was it really his fault for forgetting the full length mirror right opposite the tub?

rescue me and hold me in your arms | 74days (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Bucky is on the worst date of his life, and what he really needs of for this waitress to get the message he's sending her with his mind to rescue him. She doesn't, but she does send someone to extract him from a night of torture...

odd ways | peterbparker (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

“And it would have been an amazing night with my son if he wasn’t distracted by the hot guy on the other side of the room,” Sarah sighed, shaking her head. “He’s been looking over at you for the past fifteen minutes.”

Bucky choked on the mouthful of beer he had just taken.

“What?” he croaked. Things were starting to make a little more sense now.

“Right?” Sarah said, waving her hand towards her son. “He completely ignored my garden stories because he’s been making eyes at you so I decided to come over and introduce myself.”

series

rare is this love (keep it covered) | @musette22 (18+)

cap steve x modern bucky

It’s 2014. Captain America has been out of the ice for three years and is trudging along, saving the world and trying to get used to living in the future. Steve thinks he knows how the rest of his life is going to pan out – a life of duty, which he chose when he signed up to be Erskine’s science experiment. But then, he meets Bucky Barnes: the out-of-this-world-gorgeous mechanic and war vet, who turns Steve’s life upside down and makes him question everything he thought he knew. Slowly, Steve comes to realize there is more to life than duty and punching Nazis. Just one problem though: how on earth does a 96-year-old virgin who only just realized he may not be entirely straight make the transition from crush to relationship? Cue healthy amounts of self-doubt, awkward flirting, pretty blushing, existential crises, emotional growth, and maybe, possibly, a sexual awakening.

coming up easy | @musette22 (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

“Listen, I was just thinking,” Steve says, his face open, eyebrows raised in a tentatively hopeful expression. “Why don’t you come stay at my place for a while? I’ve got an office that I barely use, and a change of scenery might do you good, right? Help you beat that writer’s block?” With a crooked smile, he adds, “I promise I’m not a serial killer.”

While Bucky would normally crack a joke about how that’s exactly what a serial killer would say, right now, all he can do is blink at Steve in surprise, heart tripping over itself in his chest. Steve wants him to come and stay at his place. In Massachusetts. Just the two of them.

"Oh," Bucky croaks. "I- Wow."

“I mean, no pressure,” Steve says hastily. “Totally fine if you don’t wanna. I just thought I’d offer, in case it might help, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Bucky ignores the little voice in his head that sounds an awful lot Nat and Becca, telling him he’s setting himself up for heartbreak. “I mean, if you’re sure, that would be amazing.”

4 minute window | @cesperanza

steve x bucky

"Look, if they catch me," Bucky muttered, "they're either going to kill me or they're going to put me in a box with a little window and—Steve, I can't."

swapped | writeonclara (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

if u wanted my number u couldve just asked

u didnt have to steal my whole phone ;)

Steve stared down at his phone, confused. He didn't recognize the number – except, oh wait, he really did. That was his number. On his phone.

He flipped the phone over, then slid one hand down his face. Not his phone.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

[stupid fucking] brooklyn hipster bros | relenaflanel (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Bucky's mother gives him an ultimatum. Bucky doesn't respond well.

All Barneses are stubborn assholes, Steve observes, as though he doesn't see the irony of calling someone else stubborn. Or an asshole.

And Bucky can't even deny he is a total asshole for lying to his mother about dating Steve just so he doesn't have to bring someone else to her wedding, but damn if he's not going to give the lie everything he has.

brought to brightness | eyres (AO3)

cap steve x modern bucky

Army veteran Bucky Barnes has fallen in love with Steve, a guy he met online a few months after he returned from Afghanistan. Only problem is, he doesn't know Steve's last name or even what he looks like.

When his sister helps him send his story into MTV's Catfish, he's hoping they can help him meet Steve or, at least, let him move on with his life if Steve isn't real. Little does he know, Steve and Captain America have more in common than just a first name.

slide to answer | relenaflanel (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

"What do I do?” Steve appealed into the phone. “I’m freaking out.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. It lasted so long that Steve pulled the receiver away from his ear and frowned at it. Pay phones were old. Maybe this one wasn’t working despite the obvious dial tone when he picked up.

“Ok,” a stranger’s voice said over the phone. “First acknowledge the fact that you dialed the wrong number, but be quick about it because my cab is a few blocks away from my own plans and I’m about to drop some truth bombs on you.”

how to woo the winter soldier | writeonclara (AO3)

steve x bucky

“I think I’m ready to date again,” Steve said.

“What,” Natasha said.

“What?” Clint said, lowering his binoculars. He blinked at the dumbstruck look on the Captain’s face, then followed his gaze to where he was staring dopily at—at the Winter fucking Soldier.

“Steve, no,” Clint groaned.

Or: Steve courts the Winter Soldier.

all these things that i’ve done | @not-withoutyou 

steve x bucky

Steve was the patron saint of waiting too long. Bucky was atoning for his sins. Maybe they’d both been forsaken, abandoned by the light. Maybe they’d find a way back to each other again.

Post civil war, if things had gone differently.

find a way (to make it back home) | belwrites (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky (college au)

Fresh off a year abroad, Head Resident Assistant Steve Rogers finds his senior year of college to be full of changes, and he's not just talking about the growth spurt. He's more concerned with the fact that his best friend...isn't talking to him? Is dating his ex? May or may not be missing an arm?

In which Steve has no fucking clue what's going on, but he's trying, Bucky learns how to communicate with his best friend again, and everyone quietly panics about the future.

is it pretending if i already want you? | OhCaptainMyCaptain (AO3) (18+)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Based on prompt: Pretend Boyfriends AU where one of their families is always wondering why they're never in a relationship, so the other offers to pretend to be their boyfriend for some family event

the roommate | layersofart, Niitza (AO3)

cap steve x modern bucky

In which Steven G. Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America, gets a roommate. Who rapidly turns into his "roommate"—in the euphemistic sense of the word.

It takes SHIELD and the rest of the Avengers an absurd amount of time to notice.

dear mr. postman | odetteandodile (AO3)

steve x bucky (modern au)

Steve and Bucky revive an old friendship, get married (but totally just as friends, for reasons), and navigate a few of the many trials of the heart that come with falling in love with your best friend.

fate will play us out | steveandbucky (AO3) (18+)

cap steve x modern bucky

Bucky has landed himself a job with Stark Industries. He doesn't know yet that the job is actually being the PR manager for the Avengers.

Bucky has also started dating Steve Rogers. He also doesn't know yet that Steve is Captain America.

Bucky's life is about to get a whole lot more exciting.

the avengers hate club | notebooksandlaptops (AO3)

pop star steve x modern bucky

Bucky falls hopelessly for Steve and starts an Avengers hate club with the lead singer of the Avengers.

songbird | chicklette (AO3) (18+)

modern steve x musician bucky

At 43, James Barnes is a washed up old man. He’s got a dozen Grammys in the hall closet, an agent that can’t get him a deal, a decade-old case of writer’s block, a moody teen-aged daughter, and the gorgeous actress Natasha Romanova for an ex-wife. Well, one of them anyway. He’s a man who’s given up on finding joy in his life, and if it wasn’t for his kid, he’d have probably found a way to quit the world a long time ago.

Enter Steven Grant Rogers, struggling twenty-something, orphan, and someone who has no idea who Barnes is, other than some musician his mom liked a lot. The two men meet by accident, doing nothing more than passing the time in a quiet bar. But when a pap gets a shot of the two men embracing, Bucky takes it as a chance to finally come out as bisexual, and his agent makes him a proposition: Ten new songs and one very sweet boyfriend will get him a new record deal that will maybe, just maybe put him back on top.

Now all he has to do is write the songs, convince the kid, and not fall in love. Should be easy, right?

the right partner | LeeHan (AO3) (18+)

cap steve x ws bucky

Steve meets a beautiful man with a bright laugh on a sunny day in Italy. Captain America meets the elusive Winter Soldier moments later.

Date Bucky Barnes. Defeat the Winter Soldier. Bring down Hydra. How hard could it be?

[migilini]

Not So Secret Anymore - Charlie Gillespie

summary: It’s hard to hide a relationship from the public, particually when both work on the same show.

words: 2.5k

warnings: fluff

a/n: not my fave but i still somehow like it.

Requests are open :)

MASTERLIST

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

September

"When do we have our first interview?" you asked the boy whose head was in your lap. He looked up from his phone and your eyes locked with his green ones "Hmm, my calendar says in about 30 minutes."

You groaned at that and stopped playing with Charlie's hair which earned you a grunt and whine from him. "Sorry babe but I think I have to go, so I still have time to get ready and set up." You muttered and gave him a small kiss on his brown hair.

"Uhh fine." The weight lifted from your legs, you stood up and before you knew it you were thrown over his shoulder. Laughing, you slapped his butt and back repeatedly. "Babe! I mean it" you tried to press out between giggles, "we both decided to keep us a secret." He sat you down on the kitchen isle and cornered your body in between his arms, standing right in front of you, you're back hitting the kitchen cabinet.

"I know... come back later?" he asked and tilted his head, looking at you with big puppy eyes. "You know it." After a swift kiss, or rather a little make out session, you were on your way back to your own appartement. Just in time to change your top and put on a lip-gloss before opening your laptop and joining the interview.

"Hello everybody! I'm here with the cast of Netflix' Julie and the Phantoms that came out on Thursday. How are you guys?" the interviewer asked and smiled into the camera of his laptop. The whole cast chirped in with a good, great, or amazing.

"That's fantastic!" he clapped his hands "Now, Jeremy, how would you describe your Character and the show in general?"

"It's a show about ghosts from 1995 who come back 25 years later and join a band with Julie who didn't sing a note after her mother died. Reggie, the character that I play, is one of those ghosts and he is a loveable himbo. Did I use that word correctly Maddie?"

Maddie smiled and the interviewer changed the topic "Madison and y/n, birds have told me that this was your first ever acting job is that right?"

You nodded and signaled Maddie to speak first "Yes, and it was both amazing and traumatizing! I was so nervous, but the crew really helped to calm me down, especially y/n who just was in the same position as me, so we freaked out together most of the time." She smiled and the interviewer waited for you to answer. "Except, Maddie had a least some acting training at school, that's why she is the best. I more or less walked into the whole situation." You said laughing.

"I love this story." Jeremy exclaimed, making you slightly blush at his words.

"Would you be so kind and tell us?" the interviewer questioned and smiled at your little nod.

"Yes, yes of course. Well, I was on vacation with one of my good friends from back home..."

"She means Germany." Owen interrupted with a smile on his lips. "Yes, Owen. Thank you for adding important details. Anyways, we saw that there was an Open Audition nearby and though why not? We don't have anything to lose or to do on that particular day. And here I am, my friend sadly didn't get in."

"That really is an amazing story, I can see why Jeremy likes it so much. So, Charlie how would you describe y/n's and Luke's characters, she wasn't supposed to be in the script and was later added in right?" Charlie quirked up at the mention of your name and stated proudly. "Indeed, she impressed Kenny so much that he wrote a character just for her. He thought that Sunset Curve, the band name before we died, needed a female to handle their chaos or well... at least tries to. Y/N plays Allie, who against common speculation isn't any of the boys' love interest which is a very nice turn of events. She and Luke bud head a lot because Luke only thinks about music and the band and she tries hard to make him take breaks every now and then." 

A lovesick smile sat on your face while you listened to your boyfriend of nearly a year, once you realized your expression you quickly shook it off. Hiding this relationship was definitely going to be harder than expected.

The Interviewer asked some more questions before the last and dreaded question was thrown your way. "So, most of your fans are wondering if any of you guys are in a relationship." You and Charlie had discussed a million times before what you guys would say in such a moment, the two of you shared a look.

Jeremy's eyes switched from Charlie's box on his screen to y/n's before answering "I have a lovely wife! The rest of us are happily single, right guys?"

"100%" Maddie added, while Owen only shrugged, his dog conveniently jumping into his lap.

"How about the other two?" he eyed up the last remaining.

"Very single" Charlie laughed, and you agreed "Totally."

As time went on it was harder and harder for the two of you to hide the relationship, as you two spent nearly every day together and therefore did the same activities. Particularly after your social media accounts have gained over a million followers and people started to ship actors and tv show characters. But you two loved the little secret bubble you've created, there was no pressure to take good pictures together, or to post stories, to be asked a thousand questions about your relationship and no hate towards any of you.

December

It has been 4 months since the show released and the hype it got definitely was way more than you ever expected. It blew your mind. Currently, you are on Charlie and yours one-year anniversary / Christmas / good deeds vacation. Charlie and you found a good mix, that made you both happy, between chilling and doing adventurous things.

It was Christmas eve and Maddie wanted to do a 'guess the song Christmas Edition' with the main cast. Eagerly you agreed and hurried from the beach, where Charlie currently took the quiz at the bar you both sat on just minutes before, to your shared bedroom. You shot Maddie a quick text that you were 'out of the relationship zone' and ready when she was ready.

"Helloooo. How did the others do?"

"Not the worst but I still have faith in you to win this. ARE YOU READY?" she screamed the last part.

“I’m going to read you the lyrics of a christmas song and you have to guess the next line. There are certain cards that give one point and others give two. Whoever has the most points at the end…”

“Hopefully get your earrings” you asked with a sly smile and your shoulders raised.

Maddie laughed but shook her head “Sadly, no. I haven't figured out the price yet, but I for sure will! I like your backdrop by the way.” she added and you quickly looked behind you. You sat crisscrossed on the hotel room floor, you used the coffee table and a water bottle as a phonestand and used a white checkered wall as a background to try and hide the fact that you didn't sit in your living room.

January

“This should be the last box.” you cheered into the empty hall and shut the front door with a light push from your hip. Charlie popped his head out of the bedroom and walked over to, dropping his head on your shoulder in exhaustion. Nothing was set up, boxes stood randomly all over the apartment, the fridge stood there still empty and a lonely mattress covered the bedroom floor.

“The walls look a bit bare don't you think?” you said about a week later, standing in the middle of the now a bit furnished living room. Strong arms sneaked their way around your waist and a head dropped on your shoulder.

“Hmm… you're right. What do you have in mind?” Charlie said and turned you around so you were facing him. He smiled at the spark in your eyes “I was thinking, a yellow akzent wall with random secondhand pictures and some pictures of us, all in frames of course. So it's gonna have this homey and creative atmosphere.” You rambled on for a while longer, telling him where you think his instruments could go, the pillows you saw online and thought they worked perfect with the colour of the couch. Charlie just stared at you, a dumb smile on his lips with his arms around you.

“Do you not like it?” you noticed that he hasn't talked for a while and got worried. “I love it. We could live in a dumpster for all I care, as long as I have you by my side.” You fake gaged at his romantic words and gave him a kiss.

The first time people got really suspicious was the time you accidentally walked in on a live he had on Instagram. He sat in front of his instruments, phone propped up before him. You thought that he was already finished but you were wrong.

“Do you think this…” you walked into the room, a shirt in your hand that you just took out of the dryer and lost your words the moment you saw him sitting in front of his phone. He looked at you with wide eyes, his brain clearly searching for a good excuse. 

“Is that y/n?” he read outloud from the chat, gesturing you do sit next to him. “Yes it's her! We’re hanging out and she helped me with my washing because I somehow still don't know how to do it.” he laughed nervously, his hand grabbing yours out of the frame.

“He promised me food and I live really close by, so I thought I'll help this poor man out.”

May

Looking back at this moment now, you and Charlie weren't sure why you just didn't come clean. You didn't mean to hide the relationship this long, it just kinda happened and at one point it just got too awkward to tell. It was fairly easy to hide most of the time, you didn't most that much on instagram and Charlie only showed parts of his daily life.

The easiest was the time you filmed JATP Season 2. You were expected to hang out and live together. Back in 2019 you already lived with Owen and Charlie. This time poor Owen had to live with a couple instead of just two friends. (You were already dating for a while back then but didn't tell the cast, to not make a fuss.)

It wasn't like the fans didn't suspect a thing, especially after Owen posted a video of you two fooling around. 

Everybody sat outside, enjoying the everwarming sun on their skin. Half of the cast was already in costume just waiting for the break to end. In typical Allie (your character) fashion you wore an overall with a tight tank top underneath, your makeup stood out from the others with the heavy blush, freckles and black eyeliner. 

Charlie, in his Luke wardrobe, thought that it was funny to stand in front of you to shield you from the sun.

"Stop that" you whined and tried to shove him away, which was harder than you thought considering he stood before you and you sat on a bench.

"Make me." He flirted and stood even wider before you, puffing out his chest. Raising an unimpressed eyebrow, you stole his beany with a swift motion. His expresion quickly changed from cocky to shocked, snickering was heard from Maddie who was used to this type of behaviour.

"Ups… heavy wind blows in the shadows." You explained nonchalantly and pulled the beany on your head, sticking your tongue out at your boyfriend.

"Oh it's on my lady" he growled "I'm giving you a three second advantage. One…" your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up. "Two…" you got up and scanned the place internally making a good running line. "Th-.." you began sprinting across the lot. You heard the laughing from your castmates behind you as you and Charlie ran in circles. 

Unfortunately, he was still fitter and faster than you and about a minute into the running he had you thrown over his shoulder.

"Surrender!" he screamed as you tried to wiggle out of his grip.

"Never!" You screamed back and wiggled even harder.

"Surrender or i'll have to tickle you" he warned and those were the last words Owen was able to film before a producer yelled that the break was finished.

February

“Baby, if I would believe this News Article, you have a secret girlfriend, but it's not me.” you showed him your phone screen.

“I’m not cheating on you. I would never, i'd die rather than…” his frantic expression made you snort. “I know. Oh my god! People saw you with Lia.” you held his hands comfortably.

“Lia as in your best friend Lia?”

“The one and only. People noticed the hickeys... At least they’re getting closer now. So are we still on for the masterplan? You by instruments and I'm gonna sit in the bedroom?" He nodded and smiled at the sight of your equally plastered neck. 

Eventually, before you even were able to execute the as you'd like to say 'masterplan' your relationship got outed. I mean it was time, the two of you getting lazier with the hiding as time went by. 

Fans noticed that you wore a lot of Charlie's things and that you and him always seemed to be at the same place at the same time. It was actually one of your lives that spilled the secret. 

"That's a really nice akzent wall" you read outloud from the chat "oh thank you! It was a long process to get all the pictures but it was actually Charlie's idea to not only have pictures but also plane tickets, date memories and so on hung up on that wall. It really makes it homey. I think to get that wall this crowded it took us...what? About well since we moved in…" you didn't even realise what you said you just babbled and then it was out.

"Charlie actually is home! I could call him. Babe! Come here for a sec- oh my god!" Your hands flew up to your mouth in realizion. 

From that moment on you were public and your social media exploded once again. However the two of you were happy to finally show each other off.

[darklove9314-blog]

Underneath My Skin:A Nessian fanfiction

Author’s note: Hey guys!!! Welcome to day 7 of Nessian month, ( This one is late) today’s prompt is Tattoo Artist AU. If you want to participate in Nessian Month, all prompts are on @illyrianet page

“Are you nervous?” Gwyn asked as Nesta looked over to her, Emerie sitting in the next chair, scrolling through her feed on her phone.

“Why would I be nervous?” Nesta asked leading through the book she had brought with her.

Today had been the day that Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie had made the spontaneous decision to each get a tattoo. It was all their first and each of them had an appointment with a different tattoo artist who they had talked with over the phone and sent the rough idea of what they wanted done.

“Well it is your first tattoo and I know most people are nervous for theirs.” Nesta shrugged.

“Nesta?” A voice asked as her eyes flickered up to see one of the hottest males she had ever seen. She put her book away looking up at him with a smile. His hazel eyes looking down at her.

“That’s me.” She answered with a grin as Emerie gave her a knowing smirk. “I’m all set up whenever you’re ready.” He told her as Nesta stood up, Cassian was going back towards the booth in the corner Gwyn whispered

“Of course Nesta would get the hot one.“ She sighed as her name was called from the other side her eyes widened.

“I stand corrected.” Gwyn grinned standing up and calmly making her way to the other side of the parlor shaking another attractive mans hand. Introducing himself as Azriel. Nesta gave her a subtle wink. Emerie sighed,

“Of course you and Gwyn got the hot ones knowing my luck I’ll probably get-“

A blonde woman emerged calling Emerie’s name as Emerie’s eyes swept up and down, a shy smile crossing her face as she commented,

“I love this place.” She sprang up almost tripping over her chair as she quickly recovered following the blonde woman into her section as Nesta headed towards where Cassian was stationed.

Nesta looked at the stencil in his hand with the design she had emailed him about, a small book that had one of her favorite quotes written on the front of it. A quote that meant a lot to her and her friends. Nesta smiled at the design as she looked into Cassian‘s hazel brown eyes. Gosh, he really was handsome. If she had been at a bar instead of a tattoo parlor, she would have offered to buy him a drink, but she guessed talking to him while getting her tattoo done would do.

“Did you decide where you wanted your tattoo?” He asked as Nesta pointed to a specific placement on her forearm.

“Right here will do.” she told him as he placed the stencil on her to test out whether or not she liked it. the gentle brushing of his fingers sending shivers up her spine. She shouldn’t be thinking all the thoughts she was thinking with a total stranger. It wasn’t like her.

“Does that look good?” He asked his voice seeming an octave lower, she ignored it dutifully and stared at the tattoo that would be inked permanently to her skin in an hour or so.

She nodded eager to get started.

“Alright, go ahead and sit on the chair facing me.” He instructed as she sat in the chair.

Cassian grabbed his stool pulling it closer to her as he looked at his inks. she had chosen to do a tattoo with colors, so she knew he was setting up his black, gray, blue, and silver ink. She had seen his work online, knew that he was good at it. she was fully prepared.

“Just remember we can stop whenever you want to. We don’t have to get this all done today just in case you’re not feeling up to it.” He smiled.

She smiled at him at the challenge. “Oh I’m more than prepared for this.” Nesta answered him. His smile grew.

“In that case, let’s get started.” He replied as she felt the first prickle to her skin. It felt similar to a cat scratch. with barely any pain there, but she knew that there could potentially be a difference between how she felt while he was outlining vs how she’d feel when he was shading, some claimed the outline hurt some the opposite, but she knew that it would be worth it in the end,

“So how long have you been a tattoo artist?” She asked

“Going on six years.” He answered.

“Impressive.”

He gave her a slight smile illuminating his face. She notice the tattoos that inked his light brown skin and the scars that marred them.

“Do you have a favorite piece?” She asked after a few silent moments had passed.

“Of my work or the tattoos I’ve received?”

“Both.” She asked intrigued to hear his answers.

“I’ve done a lot of tattoos, as for a favorite-“ He shrugged, “I like hearing the meaning behind the tattoo, I like people sharing their stories, Don’t get me wrong, I love my craft, but the people are what makes this job worth it.“

She tilted her head at that wincing slightly as the needle went over where the bone was, she was told that would hurt the worst, so she distracted herself.

“So what’s the story on your favorite tattoo?” She asked watching his hands as he worked.

“Me and foster brothers have wings on our backs to symbolize our relationship that way no matter how far we go or what city we may end up in, we’ll always have something to remember each other by.“ He answered as Nesta felt a pang in her chest. She had heard stories about the foster care system. knew how tough it could be for the children who were in them, but she knew it wasn’t her place to ask and that it was his story to tell so she simply asked.

“Do you all still talk to each other?”

He had finished the outline and now had started on the shading. It stung slightly but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle.

“We’re roommates actually. One of them is actually working on your friend now.” He told her.

“The one by the name of Azriel?” She asked him. He nodded.

“That’s the one. He and I have always worked together. Rhys however, he works for the courthouse.”

“Didn’t want to be a tattoo artist like the rest of you?” She teased as a small smirk crossed his lips.

“He lacks the skills to do so.” He answered as Nesta felt another pang in her chest, One of a different sort.

“I can relate. I was more of the studious one in my family. My sister Feyre was the artist.” She answered.

“Does your sister live in the city?” He asked.

“Yes, but ugh, we’re not that close, it’s complicated.“ she answered not willing to elaborat. it wasn’t that her and Feyre didn’t love each other, it was just that having two neglectful parents made them seek comfort elsewhere. Anywhere else besides each other. Had made their fight horrid, both slewing out venomous words that they weren’t sure if they meant or not. It had been the worst when they both were teens, Feyre had been three years younger, but still accomplishing her goals had always been easier for Feyre, for Nesta, not so much.

Her and Elain were closer, but not by much. To Elain, Nesta had been overbearing. and she didn’t blame her for the thought. It was either she suffocated the people that she loved, becoming a burden or she hadn’t loved them enough. Both of which she had worked on in therapy or rather what she was still working on.

“I get complicated families.“ He said, a sad look in his eyes.

“I was always the complicated one.“ She told him. Not sure why she had done it. He was a complete stranger. but for whatever reason she felt as if she could talk to him about anything.

“So was I.” He confided in her. Making her eyes meet his. “Out of me, Rhys, and Azriel, I took things the hardest and I didn’t always handle them in the best ways. I always got into trouble. Said some awful things to them and the others, it took me time. And it wasn’t until I had a foster mom who gave a shit about why I was hurting that I truly started to heal. So I get being the complicated one, The way you feel like a burden even when you’re not.“

His thumb smoothed over the skin, checking on the ink there as she felt a calming reassurance in her chest. knowing that this would end soon. that this was probably the last time they would see each other.

“It looks like we’re almost done.” He told her changing to a lighter topic. Not knowing how they had gotten onto a heavier one,

“Looks like it.” She had told him. Looking at the book on her forearm.

“So I take it you’re a reader?” He asked, working on the last of her touchups.

“Have been since I was old enough to read.” She confirmed.

“Is this a quote from a book?” He asked gesturing to the quote there.

“Ugh no. It’s just the motto for us that my friend Gwyn came up with.” she told him as he read it.

“We are the rock against which the surf crashes and nothing can break us.” He smiled admiring the tattoo. “I like it.”

She wasn’t sure why the blush had crept on her cheeks at his words but it had.

“Thank you.” She told him hiding her blush from him. Normally she didn’t blush when a man gave her a compliment, but Cassian somehow was different.

“Well it looks like you’re done.” He answered. as she got up and went over to the full length mirror observing her tattoo, a book with her and her friends motto on it. They had all chosen the design together because as Gwyn had said herself, all their stories deserved to be told and all of them had a love for books.

“I love it. Thank you.“ She smiled as she glanced up at him.

“It was my pleasure.” He stated wrapping up her tattoo.

“Now you’re going to want to keep this wrapped for a couple of hours and then follow the instructions I give you on the paper you’ll leave with for tattoo after care, but besides that, you are free to go.”

After Nesta had paid and Gwyn and Emerie had finished with theirs. Gwyn and Emerie chatted happily about their tattoos looking at the colors they had chosen them in. the same colors as their friendship bracelets, Nesta smiled turning towards Cassian as she extended her hand to him.

“It was a pleasure meeting you.” Nesta told him as his hand slipped into hers, giving it a slight shake,

“The pleasure was all mine- Nesta-“

“Archeron.” She finished. A little more quickly then she would have liked.

“Nesta Archeron, the name does have a ring to it,” He answered giving her a wicked grin, Was he-Was he flirting with her? “Well Nesta Archeron, I hope we see each other again.” He stated and before she could answer his other client arrived as he went to tend to them and Gwyn and Emerie flocked her while they were outside,

“Do you ever think you’ll see him again?” Gwyn asked as Nesta looked back at the tattoo parlor with a smile on her face,

“I’m not sure, but I hope so,“

[thomotomo]

Through everything pt.2

A/N: Here’s the part 2 of my Nmajoon x male Reader story! I hope you will enjoy it! Shoutout to @ben-c0c​ who beta read this part and corrected all my shit  (*¯ ³¯*)♡

Words: 2.5k

CW // Talk about stalks and sasaengs

Part 1

Namjoon held your hand during the whole escalator trip and you tried to calm yourself down by singing some random song’s lyrics or trying to concentrate on the warm feeling of Namjoon’s hand holding yours but nothing seemed to do it and before you knew it you were at the desired floor.

As the doors opened you saw a muscular man was waiting for the doors to open, he was looking at his phone and looked up as the doors opened. Namjoon took the first step, still holding your hand and you had no choice but follow him.

“Manager-nim! Hello! Sejin meet (Y/N), (Y/N) this is Sejin our manager!”

You smiled at him, bowing a little bit.

“Nice to finally meet you! Namjoon talks quite often about you!”

“I can’t say the same but nice to meet you anyway!”, he put on a friendly smile, even though you could feel that he was tense and you could easily understand why. If you were going to proceed announcing your relationship the company could be in very deep shit. You pushed those thoughts away, concentrating on your boyfriend and his manager discussing.

“You’re going to meet the members and then we’ll go see the CEO and the PR so we can discuss this!”

“Fine by me! Even though I don’t have much choice.”

He laughed gently and you followed Namjoon and Sejin to where the other members were in a big room, discussing about anything and everything. You were quite intimidated when they all looked at you as you walked in the room. You flushed and put your head down, looking at your feet. You heard Sejin talking to the members, quickly explaining the situation to them and what was about to happen. The members stood up and came toward you, smiling warmly and you were standing there awkwardly.

“H-Hello… It’s nice to finally meet you”, you waved at them, trying not to avert your eyes from them.

“Hi! Nice to meet you! Namjoon talked so much about you!”, it was Jimin who talked first as he extended his hand towards you. You took it and smiled at him, you were happy they seemed to like you too. You were scared that they wouldn’t like you because you could cause the “downfall” of their group, but they seemed genuinely happy to meet you.

Each of the members went to shake your hands, as you grinned, feeling more at ease with each minute passing. All of you then moved, discussing with them stories about Namjoon or learning about each of your lives (both yours and the members’). You kept discussing until Sejin told you it was time for the meeting with the CEO and PR representatives.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to appear not too worried but Yoongi seemed to notice it and he came to give you a hug, surprising you.

“It’s going to be okay! I’m sure everything will go alright!”, he grinned at you, doing thumbs up too, making you laugh gently.

The other boy wished you good luck and tried to reassure you gently. Namjoon took your hand in his, smiling gently at you, tugging you to follow Sejin to the office where all the important representatives were waiting for you. After what seemed a walk through an endless corridor, Sejin knocked at a door and entered first then let both of you in.

Before stepping in, Namjoon kissed your cheeks, whispering a “love you” before entering the room. It was plain grey, with big cabinets filled with paper works, probably all the cases they had to “resolve” or hide from the public. In the middle of this oppressing place was a big desk where Lenzo Yoon sat, the CEO for business; you supposed that your relationship was business considering he was the one meeting both of you. Next to him 3 people were present, two women and a man who looked at you as you walked in.

You repressed a shudder, the atmosphere in this office was really negative and if it wasn’t for Namjoon, you would have run away. Lenzo greeted you in a professional manner and you did the same, smiling a bit. All the PR representatives presented themselves and you took a seat in front of them. The woman at his right was Kwak Joo-Ho, the man at her right was Park Yong-Nam and the other woman at the left of the CEO was Sohn Eunseo.

You were very antsy and probably appeared as a nervous wreck despite trying not to appear this way. You were sweating profusely, your shirt was sticking to your back and your hands were shaking, but you kept trying to calm yourself, thinking about good thoughts and fluffy memories with Namjoon.

“So, I’ve been made aware of why Namjoon had requested a meeting with me and the PR team. I guess you’re his boyfriend right?”, Lenzo Yoon spoke first, a serious look on his face.

“Y-Yes it’s me.” You croaked, your throat dry because of the stress.

“From what he told us, you’ve been dating for a good while, 7 years if I’m correct and that he wanted to announce your relationship to everyone and that you were absolutely sure about that.”

“That’s right sir.”, it was Namjoon’s turn to respond affirmatively.

“Alright. I’ll let Ms.Kwak Ho-Joo talk to you about our thoughts on it and how we could do that announcement.”, he moved his hand towards a woman with her hair put in a bun. She nodded and looked at you, opening a file.

“So, I’m sure Namjoon had talked to you about it already but the medias are going to want to know everything about you, they’ll search any kind of social medias where you are, know that sasaengs will look for you too, they’re going to invade your private space and probably follow you and try to get all of your personal info, like phone number, private email, workplace etc. We’re going to need you to not do any public declarations that could be detrimental to the group like their private information, so you’re going to have to sign a non-disclosing agreement to ensure that.”, she slid a paper across the table to you.

Truth to be told you were a bit hurt that they thought you would publicly release their info but you understood why they did that, after all they were often chased by sasaengs and some of them even already had their private information. You read the contract carefully, not wanting to miss any info and you took the pen that was slided to you and signed at the bottom of each page before giving everything back to Ho-Joo. She put the contract back inside the file and continued.

“About the press and the sasaengs, you might want to put your online account such as twitter and Instagram in private to avoid any hate comments that could arrive to you, and to stop them from maybe digging up some things that you aren’t comfortable with sharing publicly.” You nodded at that, it only made sense, after all you didn’t want to get a flood of hate, same for your friends and family.

“Also, to announce your relationship it won’t be a press conference but we’re going to do a lengthy post about your relationship and post it on all of the company’s social media. We’re going to have to redact it with both of you, even though we already have an idea of what to write we will need your approval for some things.”

You nodded as she explained that. You got a lot of information at once  but it was only fair, considering what could happen in the minutes or hours following the statement, you also didn’t want to reveal more than necessary about you. You were realistic, surely you would get a ton of hate, after all BTS was one of the biggest bands of its time so it was only obvious you’d get hated on, but you knew that some people would support you too and be understanding.

Park Young-Nam pulled out a computer, you guessed it was to redact the statement. You felt Namjoon’s hand on your thigh and you looked at him, a bit surprised, he smiled at you and you felt a boost of serotonin as you looked at his dimpled smile. He never stopped to make you feel at ease even in a nervous-wrecking situation as this one and you took his hand in yours and tangled your fingers together.

You stayed around an hour in the office, writing the lengthy statement about your relationship, then they recommended you not to leave the building already, not that you were planning to, considering the bomb you would have just dropped for the whole world to see, and other recommendations about how to act and react to hate.

After everything was said, they told you that they would publish the statement in roughly ten minutes and that both of you could go back with the other members. You bid them goodbye and Sejin accompanied you back to the apartment where the other members still were. You quickly went on your phone, being careful of privating all of your accounts just like they told you, you almost forgot about it but luckily you did it before it was too late.

You sat on the couch with a sigh, and so did Namjoon. Taehyung was looking at you a bit worried, your hands were visibly shaking and it didn’t seem to want to stop anytime soon. He went and brought you a glass of water, which you accepted and drank in one go.

“Do you feel a bit better?”

“Yes, t-thanks a lot.”

“It’s okay. Do you want to play to keep your mind off it?”

“Yes that would be awesome, please.”, he grinned at you and turned on the Xbox and gave you a controller.

“Do you like Overwatch?”

“I don’t play it as much as before but yes I really like it.”

“Great! Let’s play it then, does that work for you?”

“Absolutely! Though I’m not very good anymore.”, both of you chuckled and kept discussing about the game as he turned it on. Soon you were joined by Jin and Jungkook who discussed with you about the game and did a pretty good job at keeping your mind out of the current mess on social media.

Meanwhile RM observed the four of you and he felt his heart singing at the sight of you being in great terms with the other members, but he couldn’t help but be worried about all the mess the announcement was going to create, you weren’t used to all the attention, well a little bit considering your job as a tattoo artist you had to have a public social media, but not of this magnitude.

Yoongi shook him out of his thoughts, putting his hands on his shoulder.

“You okay Nam?”, he looked pretty worried about him, honestly he could understand.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m really scared for him. And for us too obviously.”

“You know, both of you overcame a lot of things. Not everyone could date an idol for so long even if he was one, you’re also still together even with the distance and the time zones. I wouldn’t worry much, as long as you communicate, nothing wrong should happen. And don’t worry about us either, we’re big boys. If they can’t accept you being happily in love well they don’t deserve you.”, Yoongi smiled at him, trying to cheer him up. Namjoon’s lips rose a bit as he nodded.

“You’re right. But I really can’t help it, some people are wild, I’m scared they find his address and go and harass him in his own country too.”, he sighed in frustration. He hated knowing that some people weren’t able to respect the boundaries of public figures, even his parents weren’t sometimes immune to being followed by horrible people who wanted dirt on him or them.

“I understand but honestly, I’m not worried. You’ll get your happy ending with him, I’m sure about it. Come on let’s try to keep our minds off that. You should be happy it’s a respectable fine man you got there”

“You’re acting like an old man Yoongi, I didn’t know you were 50 years old.”, Namjoon chuckled, gently hitting his bandmate’s shoulder.

Yoongi chuckled too and they both stayed here looking at the other members and (Y/N) bantering about which character was the best in Overwatch. He observed your face, as cliché as it was, you were laughing at something Jin had said and Namjoon could swore you were lighting up the whole room with that blinding smile.

At the same moment a mess was created on Twitter and on every other social media where BigHit had published the announcement of the relationship. Namjoon’s phone didn’t stop vibrating and so did the other member’s (they were all logged on the BTS’ official accounts so obviously people were trying to get answers here too) but they all ignored it, in favour of turning it silent.

Obviously their next promotions weren’t going to be quiet so they would like to enjoy some calm. You all had fun for a good while until it was noon. You decided to order food and Namjoon used this time to call his parents, telling them both of you would sleep in the dorm that night (probably for the better at the moment).

The eight of you ate the food, discussing, and you were engrossed in a conversation with Jungkook and Jimin about tattoos. You showed them the big ass tattoos you had on your legs and talked about the others you had on your torso and they showed theirs too.

All in all, you were having a pretty good time with the members, until the inevitable moment where everyone didn’t really know what to say anymore and were just chilling. You were used to checking your phone and you shakily reached for it, looking at all the notifications you got. It seemed that some people found your personal Instagram account really quick and you already had a ton of notifications by people requesting to follow you. You were even @/ by some of them in their publications, some hateful, some pretty wholesome.

Same went for your tattoo shop account, you got a lot of followers and an alarmingly quickly growing number of comments under your last tattoo picture. You sighed tiredly and decided not to deal with it right now and closed the application in favour of playing a game. Namjoon looked at you and put his arm around you and kissed your cheek a few times earning a “Ewww” from Yoongi, whose eyes were shining with mirth as he did that.

You stuck your tongue out to him and went back to cuddle into Namjoon’s side, trying to ignore the growing number of comments and requests. You could feel your anxiety growing and just like earlier, your back was sticking to your shirt and you wished the situation wouldn’t be as scary as it actually was.

____________

A/N: Hope you enoyed this part 2! Don’t hesitate to leave feedbacks and reblog! You can also support my writing on my Kofi ! Take care  (つ≧▽≦)つ

[truthteller-lumen]

Nox (cynicallyinkless, fiveminutemeal, lorimer-no, etc) is an internet predator, a scammer, and a chronic liar. Here’s what you need to know.

He always made it seem like I had a choice and free will but... he manipulated me so bad that leaving wasn’t an option because I felt so bad for him. It’s so insidious. - one of Nox’s many ex-partners

Nox (Noximillian, Noxim Raven, Cynicallyinkless, @SirAlthair, @SirAlthairx,  fiveminutemeal, onehalfdime, lorimer-no) is an internet predator.

He has pursued teenagers and young women nearly 10 years his junior. He is 32 and his latest partner was 19.

He has emotionally abused his numerous partners via gaslighting, emotionally manipulative language, and negging, as well as other abusive tactics.

He has cheated on his partners with multiple other women_. _Though he claims to be in happily polyamorous relationships, many of the partners he was dating were not happy about the situation. He often kept the truth about his other partners from them.

He has lied about his entire identity to his partners, up to and including faking his own voice and sending pictures and nudes that were not of him. He also lied about other details of his life, such as his family structure (claiming his mother was dead and that he had adopted a daughter) and his educational status (claiming he had finished his degree), which leads to: 

He has accepted nearly $3500 from his friends in order to fund his education, then did not finish his degree. What the money was used for is unclear, but he took multiple expensive trips with his friends after receiving the cash.

Be aware. Know the facts. Protect yourself. If you’re in a relationship like this, seek help immediately. If you see the warning signs of a relationship like this, get out as fast as you can.

More information is below the cut.

Nox’s accounts and handles are listed at the bottom of the article. Want more details? Read on.

There was one girl, first. Then more, younger and younger. More trusting, more accepting, more susceptible to his abuse. He had them compete for his attention, let them fight among themselves. And he lied to them, over and over again. He let them throw their whole lives away, their finances, their hearts, for someone who didn’t really exist.

This is a story of abuse, lies, and manipulation. This is a story that we never want to see repeated again.

Names have been censored. Labels may not be consistent between conversations to protect the identities of those speaking.

---

Nox met us when we were all teenagers. Young adults. - one of Nox’s many ex-partners

Nox has pursued girls over 10 years his junior.

Over the years, the ages of the partners Nox has taken has trended downwards dramatically. When the people his age began to reject him for his behavior, he wandered until he found a group he was accepted by.

First, she was 28. Then, 22. Then, 19. And that’s not even the complete list. 

Though she was 13 years his junior, Nox would often talk to his youngest partner in disturbing ways, including the topic of pregnancy, to the point where she had already rewritten her entire life plan after college just to accommodate having a child with him.

Even those who were not romantically involved with him were subject to sexual talk, including minors:

He cased these girls. He approached the most vulnerable, easily isolated ones.

He went after me after prodding around and kinda guessing I wasn't too close with people that didn't like him. - one of Nox’s many ex-partners

These girls were not only subject to romantic advances, but gaslighting, abuse, and controlling behavior, as well.

---

If I did anything he didn’t like or if I offered that I didn’t like something, he would just stop communicating and talking to me for days on end. - one of Nox’s many ex-partners

Nox has emotionally abused his partners.

The common thread in the swathe of abuse he has cut over the past 10+ years is control. Don’t drink, he’d say. Don’t cut your hair. Don’t leave me, or I’ll kill myself. Every action he’d take - from punishing his partners with the silent treatment to ranting and raving at them when something didn’t go his way - was taken with the intent to control their actions.

Below is an account from his longest partner of 9 years.

After breaking up with this partner, he posted to Tumblr, implying that they were the one who had broken up with him:

But the breakup was anything but shitty. In fact, he was the one who had initiated it:

A benign breakup, initiated by him, over increasing distance.

His posts on Tumblr were no more than sharpened knives, directed at his ex of 9 years. Look at how much you’ve hurt me. Look, this is all your fault.

At the time he posted these posts, he had already been dating his 19-year-old partner for several months.

Not even his youngest partners were safe from his controlling behavior.

He used them against each other:

He isolated them from their real-world communities:

He isolated them from online friends whom he knew would expose his abuse for what it was:

And he tried to control what they did in their free time:

He would fly off the rails if he thought they disobeyed him, in this case for drinking when he didn’t want them to:

And if he didn’t get his way, he would threaten suicide:

---

He said he was poly... but he couldn’t tell his other girlfriends about me yet. Not until we were fully fully official... I didn’t know when he could say we were official, though. So I believed him about it. Only then I realized that he was hiding me from his other flings and partners. - one of Nox’s many ex-partners

Nox has cheated on his partners.

He justifies it under the guise of polyamory. The girls, a decade his junior, would often be led to believe that they were the most special girlfriend, and he made no attempt to communicate otherwise. Despite this, he would often claim that he was “single” while telling his younger flings that they were still dating.

His ex of 9 years didn’t know about any of these girls. He never told her.

---

The way he talks is so smooth and persuasive, it's so easy to be manipulated. I’m just crying so hard because it was a lie. I gave myself up to a liar and a fraud and my heart can't accept it yet. - one of Nox’s many ex-partners

Nox lied about his entire identity to his partners and friends. He is a chronic liar.

To his close friends, his mother was dead, and he’d adopted a daughter. His family had abandoned him, he was living alone, and he needed help financially. These were all things they were told, and they believed him.

His mother is alive. There is no daughter. He lives with his family.

Fake dead mom.

Fake adopted daughter.

To his partners, he portrayed himself as a charming, handsome man. He sent nudes that were not his own. The selfies he sent didn’t match up with his real life appearance. He used a voice modulator to fool them into thinking he was someone he wasn’t. His web of lies is so deep that no one is sure what the truth is.

He pretended to be a cis man to his partner, and made sexual advances on her without disclosing otherwise. He is not a cis man, and the terms of his partner’s consent were violated.

The explicit picture he sent to her to further the lie of being a cis man was pulled from PornHub.

No one is really sure who the person in his selfies is.

He used a voice modulator to pretend he was someone he was not. (Full disclosure: getting closer to being someone you’re comfortable with is totally fine, and if using a voice modulator does that for you, then go for it. The chronic lying to partners that deserved full disclosure before intimacy is the issue here.)

He kept everything from his partners.

---

He mostly came to me for money because I helped pay his tuition for 3 years on my own. Thinking that I was helping to support him when his family wouldn’t... But turns out I was just being used. - one of Nox’s ex-friends

Nox accepted a large sum of money from his friends in goodwill to pay for his tuition. It’s unclear where the money went.

He lied to them, saying that his family had abandoned him and that he was living alone, unable to pay for his tuition. Despite struggling financially themselves, his friend and ex contributed $3500 to his education.

First, his friend contributed nearly a grand to his education while living on minimum wage.

Then, his ex contributed a whopping 2.4 grand.

He accepted this money happily, and recently informed the first friend, who had not kept up with him in a while, that he had graduated medical school.

But other friends with more recent experience thought otherwise. Below is a quote from yet another ex who knew him closely and recently.

And very recently, he contacted his ex of 9 years - the one who had contributed 2.4 grand - to tell her that he had not, in fact, used the money towards his schooling, or finished his schooling at all. He lied.

A poor, ailing young brother who needed money for his future. He spun his use of their generous aid as a good deed.

But was it even used that way at all?

He would often go on lavish and expensive trips with one of his younger partners at the same time that he was receiving money from his friends. Below is a receipt from a trip he took together with that partner, correlated with the timing of the money he received.

This happened while he was still dating the first ex who had donated 2.4 grand to his tuition. 

If he was strapped for money, why was he taking expensive trips with his side flings? If he needed to fund his brother’s future, why was he paying for lavish accommodations for him and his friends?

And why was he buying expensive gifts for them, too? Below is a quote from another younger partner (different from the one above).

_

If even one more girl reads this and realizes she’s in danger, then it was worth it. - an anonymous contributor

Know what abuse looks like. It could happen to you.

If your relationship looks even remotely like this, heavily consider whether or not you feel happy being there. If you’re working to escape a relationship like this, we see you. We believe in you.

If you are in a relationship with Nox and want to seek help, or have an experience you want to share, our ask box is open. Your personal information will not be published.

The following are some resources on what abuse looks like and how to escape it:

What are the signs of emotional abuse?

5 signs of emotional abuse

5 ways to escape an abusive relationship

Be wary of who you speak to online. There are more people like this out there. It is not a crime to be loving, trustful and kind, but it is unforgivable for someone to abuse that trust, to lie and to manipulate their way into receiving kindness.

And all abusers get their due. Nox, this is yours.

Get some fucking help. Stop abusing young women.

---

Nox’s handles and accounts

Nox has been known as:

Nox, Noximillian, Noxim Raven, Cynicallyinkless, @SirAlthair, @SirAlthairx,  fiveminutemeal, onehalfdime, lorimer-no

On the online game Final Fantasy XIV, he is Balthier Strahll on Mateus at the time of writing. His character ID is 20282710. He is active in the RP community on Crystal datacenter and frequents player-run RP establishments such as “The Gilded Knob” on Malboro.

This blog will be updated with any other handles or accounts as they become known to us. Have an account that isn’t listed here? Send us a message.

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

Wip Wednesday

Untitled fic (Correspondence)

Summary/Story so far: HotchReid, slow burn, AU where Reid never joined the FBI, but got roped into consulting for the LA field office while working and teaching at Caltech. Hotch gets his email from a fellow agent, and they start to work on cases together -- until they start talking on a regular basis. Regular becomes frequent, frequent becomes constant. We are now months into this... tentative thing that is beyond friendship, beyond flirtatious, they still don't know much about each other on paper... but this feels a lot like dating. And then one day, Hotch abruptly stops answering his phone.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

(Set in season 6, unbeta'd, still the first draft, text/email templates are temporary)

((Notes: Spencer's POV this time, he is 29 and working at CalTech, Hotch still doesn't know how old he is though he does know that he's at least younger than 45 now. Hotch has been MIA now for about 18 hours.))

.

Spencer spends way too long online that morning, searching for anything about the case Hotch is working. There's nothing about a raid, or a shooting, or even an arrest -- which could all just be apart of the ongoing media blackout -- but it also does nothing to stop him from panicking. 

With a drafted email pulled up to Ms. Penelope Garcia, the BAU's personal tech analyst, he ponders how to... even word this without it sounding too personal. Too much like he and Hotch have more than just a working relationship.

Because they do. They have... something.

Something that gives him fluttering sensations in his stomach, makes him check his phone constantly, and react to even the slightest chime similar to his text tone. Makes him smile when he sees Hotch's name on his notifications, in his email inbox, makes him message the man in the middle of the day at the most random thoughts. Just because he wants to make him laugh.

.

[]You're going to get me in trouble.

[][]Did I make you smile?

[]I'm at a crime scene. There's a dead body in front of me.

[][]Then why are you checking your phone?

[]You know why.

.

But that’s not something that is shared with the rest of the team, he’s sure. So he should be careful how he words his email, lest Ms. Garcia realize that Spencer isn’t asking purely as a colleague. 

Surely they know he has friends, though?

Chewing his lip, Spencer types out a brief email asking if Agent Hotchner is feeling well since he missed an appointment the night before and hasn’t been returning his calls. It’s a phrase he’s used often, so it comes naturally to Spencer as he types it out, and he realizes… he hasn’t called. He’s sent a dozen text messages, but not a phone call. Never a phone call. That was against the rules. 

He looks to his phone beside him on his desk, and tries to fight back the dueling forms of panic clawing at his chest. Panic that Hotch might not answer, panic what that means for the man he’s been… becoming more and more inclined to than any other person he’s met in so long. Panic if he does answer, breaking that barrier of written words to spoken, and the opportunity to hear Hotch’s voice. But he would also hear Spencer’s, and then there would be no hiding just how… how young he really is.

But his phone is in his hand before he can stop himself, and Hotch’s contact pulled up and his thumb hovering over the phone number with baited breath. 

Was he really going to do this?

He presses the touch screen and can hear the line connecting, the dial tone ring even before he gets the phone up to his ear and waits. It rings, and rings, and rings a fourth time -- before clicking over to voicemail. And Spencer’s hyper-fast thought processes realize he’s going to hear Hotch’s voice for the first time. Frozen in a panic, unsure if he wants to or if that had been something he wanted them to do together that the seconds slip by and suddenly it’s too late.

“You’ve reached the voicemail box of -- (703)-567-8790 -- this caller is not available. Please leave a message after the tone--”

It’s an automated, female voice that rattles off the numbers and generic call back message, and Spencer hangs up before it can begin recording him. Exhaling a shaky breath, that nothing had been ruined between him and Hotch thanks to an ill-timed phone call. 

He keeps the momentum going without much thought, and adjusts his email to Ms. Garcia before sending it. 

It feels so understated, and yet over dramatic the more he thinks about it. The more he reads it.

.

Please let me know of his well-being.

.

God, no wonder Hotch thought he was in his 60’s. 

But Spencer has to keep the façade up, not give away anything he doesn’t want to just because the emotional part of his brain is running rampant over the rational one. There are… many explanations as to why Hotch isn’t answering him. His gut feeling aside, he doesn’t need to be panicking like this. The world is still turning, he still has work to do, so Spencer tries to gather himself into some semblance of order and preps to talk to his doctoral students within the hour.

.

--

.

His morning routine progresses as usual, to start. Dr. Reid has his mandatory round up with his doctoral candidates going over thesis and dissertation parameters, class lecture schedules, updates, the works. Like morning announcements, but he requires them all to be there and to listen, and they all show up. Everyone knows of Spencer’s eidetic memory. He will certainly not forget a single date or schedule change, and he expects his students to not forget as well. 

But this morning Spencer is fully distracted, his mind elsewhere, somewhere in the state of Delaware with an agent who may or may not be in danger. Because Spencer cannot shake the feeling that something is wrong. It almost seems more like a fact than a feeling. 

He becomes even more distracted when his email pings, a response from Ms. Garcia of Quantico, VA flashing across his laptop screen, right in the middle of his department announcements. Spencer’s eyes skim the preview sentence in the pop-up box, and his voice trails off as his mind… whirls. 

.

Dr. Reid, I’m sorry to tell you I don’t know when Hotch will be available again. There was an incident, and he’s still in surg-

.

Surgery.

Surgery.

That vice-like grip of worry that has taken hold of him since last night tightens further, to the point Spencer can’t breathe. Hotch is hurt, he’s in surgery, and if he hasn’t been answering his phone since last night -- or even late yesterday afternoon -- it was not a minor thing.

Hotch is hurt. 

“Dr. Reid? Are you okay?”

“I--” he’s still looking at the email pop-up box, and is clicking on it before he can stop himself. Immediately disconnecting his laptop from the projector as his email loads there. It takes him a faction of a second to read the email. “I’m sorry, an emergency just came up. Kimmy, finish reading off the schedule for me?” He doesn’t even wait until she answers him, just picks up his laptop and retreats to his office as fast as his long legs will carry him.

.

--surgery and we’re still waiting on word. I know you 2 talk on the reg so I’ll keep you posted. 

Fret not, genius professor, our fearless leader has been through much worse than this.

.

She’s using informal speech patterns, which she has never done before. It bleeds her nervousness, and worries Spencer even more. Ms. Garcia also revealed she knows he and Hotch talk, but surprisingly that doesn’t have the effect he thought it would on his already rattled nerves. Instead, any and all reservations fall away as he types out a response much in the same way he and Hotch had started their friendship all those months ago.

.

Please, is there anything you are allowed to tell me about the case or his condition? We --

.

Spencer pauses, bites his lip as he considers crossing this boundary into the uncomfortable unknown, and then thinks about Hotch on a hospital operating table three thousand miles away.

“Screw it,” he mutters and continues to type.

.

--We’ve become good friends and I’m very worried.

.

The reply is almost immediate.

.

That makes 2 of us, boy wonder, but I’m already hacked into the hospital records database and Prentiss is in the waiting room.

I’m sending you the case files and the incident report from last night. Maybe you can see some shiz we can’t b/c the bossman is tough but he’s been in surgery a long time. 

.

Of course, whatever he can do to help. Spencer’s heavy heart-beat triples in his chest as pulls up the files and immediately prints them out so he can read through them faster. But then his mind sticks on something from the email. 

Boy Wonder.

Ms. Garcia knows how young he is.

She must have done a background check on him, that would make sense since he’s been consulting so much lately. But why would Garcia know his age, and not Hotch?

.

Ms. Garcia, did you update my dossier with the bureau after you ran my background check?

.

If you’re referring to why Hotch seems to think you’re rocking the senior discount at restaurants and not still getting carded for beer, then no I didn’t update it. I’m very anti-gov files having every detail of our lives in them, that’s what I’m for, and I figured there was a reason he didn’t know. Your secret is safe with me, sugar bean.

.

The real reason is Agent Anderson of the LA field office is a dick, with a bully streak he never outgrew after high school, and didn’t bother filling out a full file on him the first time Spencer consulted for the FBI. Then, he couldn’t be bothered to update it when his consultations became more than a one time thing.

But that was all in the past now, and Spencer can’t even be upset about it. Because now he has Hotch.

.

Thank you, Ms. Garcia. I’ll let you know my findings soon.

.

He skims the file quickly, pulling information out at lightning speed. It appears a very straight-forward case. As straight-forward as a murderous sociopath can be, anyway. Very anti-establishment, specified targets that devolved to anyone in a uniform. Anyone who appears too official, or lables as official. 

It’s easy to see, now why the unsub attacked Hotch instead of running from him. He practically served himself up on a silver platter. But there’s something about the kills that’s bothering Spencer. The knife wounds, bludgeoning, even the gunshots during the first murders -- it’s all overkill. Rage. Every single target has died from massive internal bleeding, M.E. reports all label the knife wounds and beatings as the cause. But the amount of blood left over, measured during autopsy, doesn’t add up. They bled too much. No wounds indicating intentional bleeding occurred, and the tox screens are all clean. 

Except, every victim has elevated potassium rates.

“Oh, God,” Spencer whispers, quiet and horrified. “Hotch.”

There’s no time for email.

He picks up his phone, goes to an older email that has full contact details in the footer, and dials Ms. Garcia’s direct line in Quantico.

“Speak, and behold greatness.”

“Ms. Garcia, it’s Dr. Reid,” Spencer says, and his tone and quickened speech patterns gives way to his panic.

“Dr-- Dr. Reid?” 

“Yes, quick there’s no time. Do you have Hotch’s hospital records in front of you still?” 

“Yes,” Garcia says, her voice a musical thing even in it’s breathless reaction to his heightened state of haste. “Updated every two minutes.”

“Is his potassium elevated?”

Some quick typing of keys that move faster than even he could ever hope to type. “... Yes.”

God. “Okay, okay I need you to call the hospital right now,” Spencer says in a spiel that all sounds like one word. “Whatever you have to do, he needs Sodium Polystyrene Sulfonate as soon as possible, to counteract the chemical imbalance or he’s going to go into kidney failure and bleed out.”

.

tbc...

[impossiblelibrary]

Today's rant brought to you by: Queer Eye Japan, can we all just try to be as kind as they try to be?

After watching the Queer Eye Japan super short season, I wanted to google to see the overall reaction to the show, make sure that my western eyes were correct in seeing the care that was given to the culture. Were cultural taboos, other than being outwardly gay, crossed? So I find this article in the top results and other than the perspective, why tho? Tokyoesque.com had an article with a higher reading level, with surface level appreciation but at least better written.

I can't get over this hate article though. Unfounded, dumb, wrong and incorrect. Do not go forward unless you like that blistering kind of anger from me.

But the reasons just get weaker as the article extends: "Hurts the country it set out to save?" Looking for white savior much? They did not go to save Japan, they gave some free shit to like 4-5 people, think smaller.

Their culture guide wasn't gay enough.

You want to suggest any lgbt insta models or celebrities, use your platform to raises some up?

"There is a growing sexless culture in Japan for married and unmarried people, and it is perilous watching Queer Eye present this without any context behind what is driving this behavior."

Sexiness is what the fab 5 embrace, unfortunately and it was probably discussed behind the scenes of how much talking about sex was allowed or polite and the conversation of not having sex is closer to the tip of the tongue rather than the feeling of sexiness. The West is not the ones blasting that information. It is across multiple Japanese printed newspapers and online stories by now and the "context" is still being discussed and debated amongst Japanese. So I don't think any outsiders should be weighing in or "explaining" this phenomenon. We can repeat what we have been told but guessing at the reasons is not our place. The reasons illustrated by the author of the article seem lacking, a take but not the only one, but who am I to speak on that being in a sexual relationship with someone who pulls from that culture?

Kiko begins to lecture Yoko-san on how she “threw away her womanhood” (referring to a Japanese idiom, onna wo suteru) by going makeup-free and wearing drab, shapeless clothes.

The mistranslation by the subtitles fixed by this author was necessary information. But Kiko didn't lecture her on it, it was brought up by Yoko before any of them arrived, that was her theme, that was what she had decided to focus on. Meanwhile, if you watched Jonathan, he understood there was no time to spend on makeup and skincare so provided her a one instrument, 3 points of color on the skin to feel prettier. That and the entire episode being the 5 treating her like a woman on a date, not trying to hook her up, which is what they did in American eps.

"In teaching a Japanese woman, who already struggles to find time for herself, how to make an English recipe, Antoni is making great TV and nothing more."

So Antoni shouldn't have taught her apple pie because it's too exotic for a Japanese woman. (Can you smell the sexism?)

He didn't make an apple pie, altho Yoko did mention her mother made that for her when she was a kid. He made an apple tartine after going to a Japanese bakery who makes that all the time. Then highlighted the apples came from Fuji in true Japanese media fashion. Honey, American television doesn't usually highlight where the ingredients come from. A Japanese producer told him to do that. So all worries handled within the same ep. She got Japanese ingredients, had the recipe shown to her and then made it for her friends in her own house. Did the author actually watch this show or nah?

"beaten over the head with his western self-help logic. “You have to live for yourself,” he says."

The style of build up the 5 went for was confrontational but in a "I'm fighting for you" way. It's hard to describe, but the best I can say is, a person has multiple voices in their head, from parents, siblings, society, and maybe themselves. By being loud and obnoxious, American staples right there, they are adding one more voice. You deserve this, you are amazing, you are worth it. I know this is against most Japanese cultural modesty, but maybe it shouldn't be.

Sarcasm lies ahead:

Apparently: mispronunciation is microaggressions, not just someone who had a sucky school system. Yea okay, They're laughing at the language not at how stumbling these monolinguals are with visiting another country. Mmhm. Japanese don't say I love you and don't touch and that should stay that way instead of maybe, once in awhile, feeling like they can hug. Yeah, let's just ignore Yoko's break down that she had never hugged her lifelong friend after hugging strangers multiple times. Maid cafes are never sexualized in Japan ever, just don't go down that one street in Akihabara where the men are led off by the hand sheepishly blushing. Gag me. And Japanese men love to cry in front of their wives and would never break down once the wife leaves. I have never seen a Japanese movie showcase that move. Grr.

"I identify as many cultures."

So you're a Japanese man when it's convenient for you to get an article published? Are you nationally Japanese or just ethnically or culturally?

Homeland is an inherently racist word?

"After the Bush administration created the Department of Homeland Security after the 9/11 terrorist attacks, a Republican consultant and speechwriter Peggy Noonan urged, “the name Homeland Security grates on a lot of people, understandably. Homeland isn’t really an American word, it’s not something we used to say or say now.”

Yes, let's use a Washington Post article rather than a etymology professor. Yes, the google search results increased after 2001 Homeland Security was used but the word has been around since the 1660s and I've read multiple turn of the century lit on white people returning to their homeland, i.e. the town off the coast they were born in.

"But" is not disagreeing. I think the repeated offender for the author is the not acknowledging the makeover-ees feelings. But, that is how LGBT have decided to deal with the inner voices that invade from society. They are just that, not our own, they are the influence of society, and we can choose, we have to choose, to be influenced by someone, anyone else.

Karamo can't speak about being black when an Asian is speaking about being Asian, even though the Asian gay man was feeling alone. It's called relating bitches, and I'm done with people saying that is redirecting the conversation, it's extending the conversation. That's how we talk, the spotlight is shared, especially when someone's about to cry and doesn't want to be seen as crying, time to turn the spotlight.

The gay monk wasn't good enough, you should have invited the gay politician.

Yeah, causes I'm sure a politician has all the time in the world for a quick stint and cry. They picked a Japanese monk who travels to NY because they had a guest who travels to the West too. Did you want him to stop traveling back and forth? Did you want a pure, ethnic and cultural Japanese gay man who has no ties to the west to talk to this Western educated young man? Seriously?

This is just not how it works in Japan.

Being in a multi-cultural marriage between two rebels, discussions on facets of culture are plenty in my household. Culture should be respected enough to be considered but not held on a pedestal like we should never adjust or throw some things out. LGBT being quiet and private for instance. "Being seen" was Jonathan's advice, and a good one especially for a Japanese gay man that was called feminine since he was a kid. Some gay men can hide, but as Jonathan said, he couldn't hide what he was, he couldn't hide this. So fuck it. Don't hide. It's actually more dangerous for a feminine man to come off as anxious rather than gay and proud. It makes you more of a target if they think you won't fight back. Proud means, Imma throw hands too, bitch.

This is also from the civil rights playbook going back to Black America: never hold a protest or a fight without the cameras, without being seen. LGBT have found the more seen they are, in media, in the streets, the better off we are. When LGBT Americans were being "private" about our lifestyles, we died, a la 1980s. They won't care if you start dying off if they never saw you to begin with.

And hence why I think the author's real anger is from these 5 being seen dancing flamboyantly in Shibuya, in Harajuku, afforded the privilege of doing this safely because of their tourist status, cameras and very low violence rate in Tokyo, loud and obnoxiously. Honestly, they wouldn't have been invited or nominated if they didn't want that brash American-ness coming into their home, just for a taste, at least.

Here's my real anger, my own jealousy: Japan's queer community currently does not have marriage or adoption rights. US does, so we have progressed further. But we are also not that many years from being tied to cow fences with barbed wire, beaten with baseball bats and left for dead overnight. If things are so bad over there, maybe take a few pages from the civil right playbook we took so much time to perfect and produced by the Black Americans who fought first. But so far, I only hear loss of jobs and marriages, which we still have here too. Stop trying to divide us, we are one community, LGBT around the world and we are here to try to help. Take it or leave it, it's not like we're going to go organize your own Pride parade for you.

Rant over? I guess. Is this important enough to be put in the google results along with his. Hell no, anyone with half a mind can see he's reaching more than half the time. And any argument about: this wasn't covered! There are a shit ton of conversations that are not covered in the 45 min they have. They are not a civil rights show, it's a makeover show, doing their best in that direction anyway. Know what it is.

Next blog post, what research I would guess was happening behind the scenes for each of the 5? I'm pretty sure I saw Jonathan doing Japanese style makeup there...

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Love, War, and Books by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 3/3 Notes:

Thank you so much for reading and going along on this journey. This 3 chapter AU took me more time to write than any of my other fics, I really stepped outside my comfort zone with this as I prefer to write original stories and struggled with an AU based on something everyone knows and loves. I haven't liked every word, but I grew to love the tale and I hope you did too.

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly

Chapter 3: The Book of You

“Well now that you’ve put her out of business, I wonder if she would come work for me? She’d be an excellent children’s book editor.”

Killian made a snorting sound, “I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t work for anyone associated with me.”

“I think I’m going to offer her a job anyway.”

“She wouldn’t be good for you; she lacks that killer instinct you like in your employees. What is it you always say, never apologize as long as you win?”

“Like you’re one to talk, you’re just as insensitive as I am, I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation.” She complained, punching the button on the elevator to their floor. “The only reason I have the chance to hire her is because you put her out of business.” She narrowed her eyes. “Who’s insensitive now?”

Killian internally groaned, watching the numbers on the elevator move slowly as Milah droned on beside him. Emma would never work for someone like her, she could never be as cutthroat as he had seen Milah behave. She wasn’t like her, or for that matter, him. Emma was a rare breed.

The elevator jerked violently to pull him from his thoughts, lights flickering on and off as it came to a shuddering halt.

“What the hell!” Milah yelled as the other occupants in the elevator began tapping on the buttons.

“I’m sure it’s just a technical issue.” He offered reassuringly. Milah pulled out her phone, dialing and waiting impatiently for someone to answer. He leaned against the wall, smiling at the woman with her young daughter. “They’ll get us out shortly, no need to worry.”

“No one is answering, how incompetent do you have to be to not know how to pick up a phone?”

“Milah, it’s possible there was an electrical outage that affected more than us, I’m sure the phone lines are busy.”

“I’ll be putting in my complaint to the city.” She squealed and Killian pushed himself down toward the floor, sitting on the ground and removing his jacket.

“I’m sure they’ll be awaiting your call with bated breath.” He grumbled to himself. “Shouldn’t be long, someone will come and get us out.” He announced to the group. “Might as well get comfortable.”

Three hours later and Milah was testing his nerves. He had expected her complaints to die down once the air in the elevator had gotten thicker and harder to take breaths, but it seemed to only intensify her anger.

“When I get out of here, I’m going to call my daughter and apologize. I haven’t spoken to her in 3 weeks, and I don’t even remember what we were fighting about.” The man beside him spoke to no one in particular. Killian smiled at the man; it was a lovely sentiment.

“When I get out of here, I’m going to apply for that job I’ve been scared to be rejected from. Even if I don’t get it, at least I will have tried.”

Milah jumped in, “When I get out of here, I’m going to get Botox.” She announced, staring at herself in her hand mirror and pulling at her skin. Killian rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what he was going to do when he got out of here.

“When I get out of here…” He began.

“Do you have my gum?” Milah interrupted and Killian exhaled, reaching into his jacket beside him to pull out his gum and toss it toward her. The moment was gone, but the second he left the elevator he did exactly what the moment called for. He told Milah it was over between them.

She barely gave up a fight, as he gathered his items, promising to return to pick up the rest of his stuff, and taking Smee out the door with him. Killian didn’t care, he was just happy he could stop pretending. He realized in that elevator that his and Milah’s relationship had always been pretend. He dated her because it was the next logical step in their relationship, they moved in together because that’s what you do when you’ve been dating for as long as they had. She was in the book business, she had contacts that he used selfishly for his own business, and beyond that they had nothing else in common with each other. It was over before it had even begun.

Killian sat down in front of his computer, he wanted to talk to Emma. She was the first person he thought about when faced with what he was going to do once he left that elevator. He needed to come clean to Emma, tell her who he was. But he knew that once he did that, it was all over. She would never speak to him again. But maybe, maybe if she got to know the real him, the real Killian Jones, maybe he wouldn’t lose her.

JR10: Tonight, I got in the elevator, something I do every day. Three hours later I got out of the elevator and Smee and I moved out of my shared apartment. It was like the smoke had cleared and everything just made sense to me. It’s a long story, full of all those little details we don’t share about ourselves, maybe one day we will.

~*~

Emma stared at the screen in front of her. He had been living with someone. She couldn’t be angry; she had been doing the same. She understood how he was feeling though, the smoke clearing. It was exactly how she felt with August. Like the world just opened to her and suddenly she got tired of playing the game. She just wanted to be happy and clearly she hadn’t been.

Lonelygirl: Change is a funny thing isn’t it? It’s like dominoes. One little thing changes and suddenly there is this chain reaction and when you look up everything around you has changed. Six months ago, when I met you online, I knew exactly who I was, what my life was going to look like, and where I would be for the rest of my life. Now I know nothing. My store closed this week. I haven’t told you I owned a store, but I did. It was a beautiful little bookstore that my mother had when she was alive. And maybe I held onto it so fiercely because it was my way of keeping her alive, but either way, it closed and I’m heartbroken. It’s like my mother has died all over again and there’s nothing anyone can do to make it right.

Emma walked down the street, looking up to see the Jones Books logo staring down at her, mocking her. She bit her lip and walked up to the door, yanking it open forcefully as if somehow her strength was going to topple the entire building to the ground.

She marveled at the size of the inside, stairs leading to a second and third floor, lights hanging in every corner, large comfortable chairs full of patrons sitting together, reading books. The place was full, she’d never seen so many people in a such a large space before. The registers were full of customers purchasing armfuls of books. She climbed the stairs slowly, stopping when she saw the children’s section.

It was a marvel, bright, colorful, with stuffed animals lying around for children to play with. She sat down on a large bean bag, tears falling softly down her face.

“Do you have the shoe books?” A woman asked one of the employees standing a few feet away from her.

“Shoe books? Who’s the author?” Emma rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know the author, my friend just told me that I need to find the shoe books.”

“Neal Streatfeild. The author is Neal Streatfeild, he wrote all the shoe books.” She announced to the pair as the tears started to come faster. “I’d start with skating shoes, though ballet shoes are just as beautiful.” She said with a snort, looking up to see them staring at her with a tentative look of concern. She wiped her nose with her sleeve and stood up, quickly exiting the building.

~*~

Killian stared at his computer. Sadness overtaking him at her words. He really was the bad guy.

“Cora and I are over.” Killian looked up at his dad.

“So soon, you just got engaged.”

“She was dating the nanny.”

He burst into laughter. “Well, that makes up for you leaving Kristen for the nanny.”

“No, Kristen was the nanny, I was with Kelly at the time.”

“Ah, so many, I lose track.”

Killian turned his attention back to his computer.

JR10: I’m so sorry about your store. I don’t know what else to say that doesn’t sound trite and inconsiderate. I hope that you will be alright.

He sent the message, but he felt sick inside.

“How’s the store? Business must be booming, and I heard that the children’s book lady finally closed.” His father poured himself a drink. “You met her; do you think she would date me?”

His father handed him a glass and Killian sighed. “On to the next, I guess.” He said with a shrug.

“Father and son, back together again.”

Killian could hardly believe that as much as he tried to not be like his father, here he was living on his boat, parked on the slip right next to where his father was currently hiding out in his. Father and son, indeed.

The next few days he went in search of a new apartment, checked in with Belle at the store, and waited anxiously for a reply from Lonelygirl. When he had heard no response from her after a week, he decided to reach out again.

JR10: Why haven’t you written back? Are you alright?

When Emma didn’t reply, he walked to the store, checking in to make sure that everything was going as expected for the new store. Business had taken off in the past week, Belle had made a very important hire, bringing in Will Scarlett from The Golden Swan to run the children’s book section.

After Killian had observed Emma in his store, listened as his employee was unable to assist a customer, he challenged Belle with the task of bringing in the best department head she could find for the children’s section. Will may not have seemed like the best option for customer services with his dry wit, his sour attitude, or his arrogant behavior, but when it came to children, the man turned into a new person. He told stories, acted out the parts, played the different voices, and children flocked to him. He was a rare find in their world.

When he returned home later that evening, he found a new message from Emma.

Lonelygirl: I’m sick. I can’t stop sneezing, my ears are clogged, my nose is blocked. I feel terrible. I haven’t left my bed in days. The worst part is that all I can do now is sit here and think about my life. Who am I kidding? What life? What am I going to do now?

Killian groaned, if he felt worse before he felt terrible now. He had ruined this woman’s life. And now here she was feeling like she had no future. He caused that. She was a bright woman with a bright future, and he needed her to know that too.

He jumped up from his chair, rushing out the door.

Ten minutes later he was standing in front of the brick apartment, staring up at the windows above him. This was a risk, but he needed to take it.

~*~

Emma lay in bed, sneezing for yet the fifteenth time that hour. She felt terrible. She closed her eyes, trying to find sleep when the buzzing forced her eyes open. “Oh God, not now.” She groaned, pulling herself up from her bed and stumbling through the apartment. The sound buzzed again, and she put her hands to her ears. “Please stop doing that.” She moaned. Pressing the button to the intercom.

“Go away.” She yelled into the box.

“Hi, Hello. This is Killian Jones.”

Emma stood back from the door like it shocked her. What the hell was he doing at her apartment?

“Go away.” She repeated. She had no idea what that asshole was doing at her apartment but whatever it was, it wasn’t a concern of hers.

“Can I come up?”

“No that’s a terrible idea. I’m sick, I haven’t been sleeping, I might be contagious so I would really appreciate it if you…”

There was a loud knock on the door she was currently leaning against. She jumped at the sound. “Hello?”

Emma stood back from the door. Killian Jones was standing outside her apartment. She looked around the room, scattered used tissue paper littering every surface, blankets draping the floor and chairs. She ran around the room, gathering items in her arms, tossing garbage away as fast as she could.

“Emma?” She heard his voice on the other side of the door. She looked down at the pajamas she was in and looked around anxiously for anything to cover herself up with. Reaching for the closest item she could find she wrapped the long coat around her and tightened the belt before reaching for the door.

Opening the door, she came face to face with her worst enemy, holding a bundle of flowers. “Why are you here?”

“I heard you were sick, I wanted to check on you.”

Emma stared at him, open mouthed. This was a new development, she didn’t think empathy was a trait of his. “You put me out of business. Are you here to gloat or offer me a job?”

“I wouldn’t think of it.” He announced, stepping into her apartment, and slipping past her into her living room.

“Hey!” She said, spinning around and following him. “I’ll have you know, I already got offered a job by your girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend actually.” He offered and Emma narrowed her eyes in his direction.

“Oh, what happened?”

“We broke up.”

“Oh, that’s terrible you two seemed perfect for each other.” She slapped her hand over her mouth. She did it again. Said something really awful just to hurt someone. That wasn’t who she was. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I said that it was really mean. I’m not like that, but every time I’m around you…”

“I know, the words just fly out of your mouth.” He offered with a laugh.

“Yes actually, but I’m sorry. Thank you for coming. But I think you should leave.” She opened the door and tapped her foot.

“I brought you flowers.” He said instead of walking out the opened door. He held them toward her, a beautiful array of snowbells. “Do you have a vase?” He turned and walked back through her house, wandering off toward the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” She argued, chasing him through the house.

“They need water, you should sit down, you’re sick.” Emma stared at him dumbfounded. What the hell was this man doing here? She sat down lazily onto her couch, staring toward the kitchen to see if she could see the man who was currently invading her life. He stuck his head out of the kitchen doorway, “Did you know that Will came to work for me? He’s a great kid. He’s the one who told me you were feeling sick. Did you know he has a PHD in children’s literature?”

Emma nodded absentmindedly and mumbled to herself. “Of course, I knew that.”

He returned to the room with the flowers and Emma smiled at the large bouquet of beautiful buds that almost lit up the room. “When did you break up?”

“What?”

“With your girlfriend, when did you break up?”

He put the flowers down, quietly speaking. “A couple of weeks ago.”

“Everyone is breaking up recently. This other person I know broke up with his girlfriend in an elevator. Or outside one or near it, something. It was stuck. And then everything was clear.” She said, her mind hazy. “When I saw you that night, at the restaurant, he’s the one I was waiting for and I was…”

“Enchanting.” He said almost reverently which caused Emma to snort.

“I was not enchanting, I was mean, you said it yourself.”

“Well, you looked enchanting” He said, before turning back to the kitchen and rummaging through her cabinets. “Tea?”

Emma nodded, “Top cabinet on the left.” She mumbled, blowing her nose into the tissue in her lap.

“Well, I was upset that night. And I was really rude.”

“I was the rude one, love.” He replied, handing her a cup.

“Yes, but I have no excuse.” She grabbed the flowers, the tea, and her blanket and walked toward her bedroom.

He followed her, “Whereas I am a horrible human being and thus have no excuse but to be rude. Correct?”

“No that’s not what I meant.” She said before sneezing violently. “I’m done being a mean person, even to you.” She crawled into her bed.

“But I put you out of business. You’re allowed to hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.” She sighed.

“But you’ll never forgive me.” He added with an almost sincere expression on his face, to the point that Emma almost believed that he felt sorry for ruining her life. She knew that was ridiculous because Killian Jones was a ruthless businessman, he wasn’t sorry for doing his job.

“You don’t care if you get my forgiveness or not.”

“It wasn’t personal.” He said softly.

“It was business.” She laughed. “What does that even mean? I’m so sick of it. All it means is that it wasn’t personal to you, but it was personal to me. What’s wrong with personal?”

“Nothing.” He added seriously.

“Exactly, if anything, it should at least start as being personal.” Emma shook her head, “My head is fuzzy, I need to go to bed.” She crawled into her blankets. “Why are you here again?”

“I thought maybe we could be friends.”

“You are crazy.” She laughed.

“I know, I guess it was too much to expect. Can I ask you something?”

“Well, you’re here aren’t you.”

“What happened with that guy from the Café?”

Emma’s shoulders sagged. “Nothing.”

“But you’re crazy about him?” He asked, a look of hope in his eyes she didn’t understand.

“I am.”

“Then why don’t you run off with him? Start a new life with this lucky man.”

Emma frowned. She knew she was about to sound completely stupid. “I don’t actually know him.” He smiled at her, and Emma was waiting for the retort. “We met…” Don’t tell him Emma. “You are going to think this is ridiculous.”

“You met him online.”

Her eyes widened. “Yes.”

He pulled the blankets up to her chest, a move that suddenly felt very personal and warm. “Well, I’m happy for you both. But I think maybe you should meet him, love.”

She laughed nervously, “I don’t think I need to take advice from someone who…”

His hand slipped against her lips, and they immediately tingled from his touch. “I’ll save you from saying something else you’ll regret.” His thumb grazed her bottom lip as he pulled it away. “Get better, Emma.”

She stared at him dumbfounded. “Uh huh.”

He smiled, his blue eyes shining down at her and causing her stomach to make unexpected flips. What was happening to her? It must be the medication.

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” She repeated as she watched him retreat from her apartment and shut the door.

~*~

Killian couldn’t stop thinking about Emma as the days went by. He had almost given up hope that his words to her at her apartment had fallen on deaf ears when he got the message two days later.

Lonelygirl: I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and I think maybe we should meet.

He smiled. Now he just needed to work on his relationship with her. Get her to know the real Killian Jones before he told her he was JR10.

JR10: Of course, we will meet, but right now I’m in the middle of a project that needs…tweaking.”

It’s showtime.

He left the house ten minutes early, taking the route that would get him to Starbucks. He stood in line, keeping his distance from the blonde woman at the front of the line. When she turned to face him, his mouth dropped in fake surprise.

“Emma?”

Emma stopped, “Killian?”

“How funny running into you here. Do you come here often?”

“Just every morning.” She laughed. “What are you doing here?”

“Weird, I come here every day too. Funny how we’ve never run into each other before. You look like you’re feeling better.”

She smiled. “Yes, much, thank you. Well, I should…”

He nodded, “Yes of course, nice seeing you.”

He ordered his drink and walked slowly past the table she was sitting at. Looking around he mumbled to himself. “It’s always so busy in here. Nowhere to sit.” Looking down he made eye contact with Emma and she sighed.

“Do you want to sit down?”

“Yes, thank you. How have you been?”

“Great.” She said shortly. “I’ve started writing a book.”

“That’s wonderful news. How’s that fellow of yours? Have you met him yet?”

She looked down at her newspaper. “No.”

“No? What’s stopping you?”

She exhaled loudly. “He said he’s working on a project that needs tweaking.”

“Tweaking? What does that even mean?” He paused. “I bet he’s married.”

Her mouth dropped. “No, that’s not possible.”

“Have you asked him?”

“Of course not, how do you just ask someone if they’re married?”

“Pretty sure you say, are you married?” He laughed.

When he got home that evening, he found a message from Emma that made him smile.

Lonelygirl: I’ve been meaning to ask, are you married?

JR10: How could you ask me that? I thought we knew each other better than that. Wait, are your friends telling you that I’m probably married?”

That evening, after conveniently running into Emma at her favorite diner, he casually brought up her internet friend.

“So, he didn’t answer the question?”

Emma paused and then put her hand to her mouth. “I guess he didn’t, did he?”

“Maybe he’s fat.”

“Killian!” She exclaimed. “I don’t care about that.”

“You don’t care that maybe he’s horribly disfigured or walks with a limp. Maybe he spits when he talks.”

“I highly doubt that.” She snorted.

“Why else would he be taking so long to meet you? Maybe he’s…” He opened his mouth and then closed it.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Killian, what?”

“What if he’s waiting until he gets out of prison.”

“Oh stop. Will already thought he was a murderer.”

“What’s his username?”

“I’m not going to tell you his username.”

“It might help tell who he is.”

“Fine, JR10.”

“What kind of a name is that?” He huffed.

“Maybe it’s his initials.” She offered.

“Or how many tons he weighs. Just Round 10 tons.” He teased and she burst into laughter. “Or how old he is! Maybe you found a technological genius who is 10 years old.”

“Could be an address or a location…” She laughed. “No that would be stupid.” Killian tried not to choke on his coffee. “Either way, it doesn’t matter. I mean besides being married or in prison, the only other deal breaker is the boat thing.”

“Boat thing?” He inquired.

“I could never be with a man who has a boat.” She said simply.

“I have a boat.” He said, his tone serious. “So that settles it.” She looked at him with confusion. “We’ll never be together.” He met her gaze, not breaking the contact.

“So, what is the book about?” He asked, changing the subject.

“It’s a children’s book, I know this editor from the store who wants to read it as soon as I’m done writing it. You know, JR10, he was the one who really made me think about writing.”

“You mean Mister 10 felonies committed before age 24?” he teased.

“More like Mister 10 ways into my soul.” She said almost lovingly, and he felt the desire to reach across the table and kiss her. “It’s weird how much we’ve been running into each other lately.”

“Wanna run into each other say, tomorrow, round lunch time?”

“Sounds great.” She said with a genuine smile.

Killian thought about Emma his entire walk home. The way her hair glowed bright with the sun shining on her, or how her eyes were the perfect shade of green. It was becoming harder to fight the urge to kiss her each time he saw here. He needed to tell her who he was, soon.

JR10: How about meeting me tomorrow? 4pm. The park on 88th. Where the flowers bloom in the garden and the path curves. You’ll find me there.

~*~

Emma stared at her computer. She was finally going to meet him. A part of her was excited, the other part of her was feeling something else that she couldn’t put her finger on. She’d been focused so much on meeting this man but between those moments she had formed something of a friendship with Killian Jones. It was a friendship that somehow she had learned to value.

He had offered her advice on her book, some to talk to about JR10, and in the times when they were together, a companionship that she had been missing. It was like he understood her better than anyone she had ever known before.

They were meeting for hot dogs for lunch, she was happy for the distraction from her nerves of meeting JR10later that evening. Killian would know the right thing to say to her to calm her down and prepare her for this meeting.

“Today?”

“I know right? This afternoon.”

“That’s very exciting, I bet he’s the clock maker on 82nd. You’ll never need to have your clock fixed again.”

“Stop. That guys like a hundred years old.”

His mouth grew wide. “That’s it, he’s 10 centuries old.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.” She bit into her hot dog, ignoring the way he was watching her. Lately he had been looking at her with a feeling that was almost akin to want. Which was ridiculous but also gave her butterflies for some reason.

“He was smart. He waited until you were certain there was no other man in your life that you could love.” She glanced at him and nodded but then he set his hot dog down and stared at her, his blue eyes glistening in the sunlight. “Sometimes I wonder…”

“What?” She asked anxiously, feeling like whatever he was about to say was important.

“If I wasn’t Jones Books, and you weren’t The Golden Swan, and we met…”

“Don’t do that.” She interrupted.

“I would have asked for your number, and I wouldn’t have waited until I got home to call you. I would have asked you out for drinks, dinner, and your every desire, for as long as we both shall live.”

“Killian.” She warned.

“And then we wouldn’t have gone to war, and I wouldn’t have put you out of business.”

“Killian, please don’t.” Her heart was pounding in her chest.

“Can I ask you something?”

“I need to go.” She couldn’t be standing here listening to Killian saying these words to her, not now, not when she was finally getting to meet the man of her dreams.

“How come you can forgive him for standing you up, but you can’t forgive me for this tiny little thing of putting you out of business.” He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, how I wish you would.”

“I need to go.”

“You don’t want to be late.”

She turned away from him quickly, practically running down the sidewalk to put space between them. She needed to stop herself from turning around and kissing him.

Fleeing the scene, she returned to her home to prepare for her date with JR10, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach.

Stepping out onto her sidewalk, she practically skipped to the park, she was about to meet the man of her dreams, the man who knew her better than she knew herself. Her soulmate.

She arrived early, taking her time to wander through the park, admiring the flowers, trying to embrace the nervous feelings currently building in her stomach. She stood on the path, where the curve bent around the park, adjusting her dress nervously.

“Smee.” She turned quickly, looking in the direction of the voice. A dog came bounding toward her, his leash dragging behind the pup. She bent down to pet the runaway dog when he came into view. She knew it, it was the only thing that made sense. It had to be him. He was her soulmate.

She stood up as he approached her, tears slipping from her eyes. Before she could react, he wrapped his arms around her, and she melted into his chest. “Don’t cry lonelygirl.”

She looked up into his eyes. “I wanted it to be you. I wanted it so badly.” He smiled and her heart melted as his lips touched hers.

Two lonely souls, Emma and Killian, had found love in the middle of a war over books.

[neo-ct23]

WayV’s perpetually tired single father Qian Kun for the fluff alphabet, please ❤️

Kun x Fluff Alphabet

PSA: I’m obsessed with Kun in glasses.

Affection: Their love language & how affectionate they are.

Shy about affection in public, but in private oh boy does he get affectionate. Kisses all over your face, hand holding, etc. Cuddles galore!!!

Behavior: How their behavior is when it’s just the two of you vs with their other members around.

Oh my god he’d be so embarrassed to behave the way he does in front of the other wayv members. Keeps things strictly G rated when the others are around.

Cuddles: HC about cuddling with them.

Wraps his hand around yours. That’s his favorite way to hold hands with you, so of course he does it while cuddling. Makes him feel like he’s comforting for you. Feels very fulfilled by the feeling of providing for his s/o.

Dates: First date & their favorite thing to do on dates as well.

First date was probably just a movie. Afterwards he’d sit down with you and just chat. He’d want to hear your thoughts on the movie. Such a good listener. His favorite dates are when you do something that either of you is passionate about. He loves listening to you talk about your passions and he loves the way you listen to him talk about his.

Effort: The ways they put effort into their relationships. How they to the extra mile.

Mostly does it through affection and care. Also will buy or cook you food. Shows you how responsible he is and how he can provide for you. I know that’s a traditional way of thinking but I do think he’s fairly traditional.

Future: How often they think of the future, their plans, etc.

Probably plans out your future together while getting ready for your first date. Gets ahead of himself thinking about marriage and kids. Thinks about it all the time.

Gifts: What they like to both give and get for gifts.

Doesn’t necessarily give you stuff but instead will do something sweet for you. Cooks you breakfast or dinner, cleans your whole apartment, etc. Will also buy you flowers.

Habits: Any habits, good or bad, that they may have.

I don’t think this man has a single bad habit. He’s clean, a great leader, responsible, all around the perfect guy. I’m so close to biasing this man but I’m trying to stay ot7 😫

Insecurity: Their main insecurity and how to comfort them about it.

Doesn’t get insecure a lot, but when he does it’s probably about something his songwriting skills. Will make some songs and then delete them because he doubts his own abilities.

Junior: What they were probably like as a kid.

The most polite and quiet boy ever. Sooooo cute.

Kisses: Your first kiss story and their favorite type of kiss

First kiss was probably an accident. He really likes you and asks you out. A couple days before your first date he’d “accidentally” kiss you and then he’d be like •o• and be so embarrassed & flustered. His favorite kisses are just simple tender lip kisses. Loves make outs.

Liquor: How well they handle it/how much they can handle.

Doesn’t drink often. When he does he can handle it really well and it would be so hot. Usually the designated driver for wayv. Used to having to stay sober to make sure the others get to bed safely.

Mature: How mature or immature they are and the ways they show it.

Probably the most mature member in all of nct. Mature king.

No: A dealbreaker for them. Something they couldn’t deal with in a relationship.

Couldn’t deal with someone who is improper or behaves recklessly. It would stress him out all the time.

Online: How public your relationship would be. Whether or not they’d post about you online.

Basically hides you from the public. Probably comes up with a code word that means “I love you” so when he posts the word Pumpernickel on his Instagram story you know it means he’s telling the world he loves you.

Protective: How protective and jealous they get.

Would be so protective. Not the jealous type. Wants to beat anyone’s ass who tries to hurt you in any way.

Quarrel: What fights would be like with them, what they’d be about, etc. Might get a lil angsty.

Might get annoyed about minor things, but he’s easy to brush it off. Not sure what fights would be about. Serious ones wouldn’t happen much, though. I could see small bickering turning into a more serious fight, but rarely.

Room: What their room is like, living habits, etc.

Idk about Yangyang and Xiaojun but Kun’s side of the room is CLEAN i mean talk about CLEAN. Cleans when he’s stressed, which is a good habit.

Social: Their favorite way to communicate with their s/o when they’re not around, how social they are, etc.

Calls you when he knows you can’t pick up. Does this so that he can send you the sweetest voicemails. Sings to you, tells you he loves you, and asks about what you want for dinner.

Travel: Where they want to go & what they want to do.

Wants more than anything to take you to his hometown and to take you to meet his family. Other than that, he probably doesn’t want to leave Asia. Might check out South America but apart from that he’d try to keep things in Southeast Asia in particular.

Unwind: What helps them relax after a long day.

Reading. Just picks up a book and could instantly be relaxed. Maybe cooks & eats something.

Vulnerable: What makes them vulnerable & why.

Probably when it comes to his masculinity. Doesn’t feel like he can protect you if you get harmed. In reality I definitely think he could (he would be so fierce and protective over you), he probably just doubts himself.

Wedding: whether or not they want to get married, if/how they would want to do it, etc.

Wants to get married. ULTIMATE husband material. Doesn’t want anything too flashy but definitely wants his family there and something formal. Jokes that he doesn’t want wayv to attend but of course they’d be groomsmen. Imagine how cute he’d be in his tux 🥺

X: an AU that comes to mind.

I mean this is an obvious one but a single dad one, or WAIT hear me out a CEO AU.

You: Their absolute favorite thing about you & why.

Your sense of humor. Kun finds a lot of fun times in his job but he also gets stressed and your humor and making him laugh would help him de-stress.

Zzz: Cute sleeping HC.

Probably sleeps with two pillows but uses one as a pillow and hugs the other one. If you bought him a plushie he’d cuddle that at night instead. Helps him feel secure.

[bigfootwrites]

{escort fic}

This idea has been in my head for a while. People on the server seem to like it. I’ve gone back and forth on whether this is ooc or not but nobody has mentioned that it is so I’m gonna roll with it. It’s just a concept idea but if people are interested I’m happy to turn it into a full fic so please do let me know. Can also be read on ao3.

@today-in-fic @mypanicface  @improlificinsarcasm  @baronessblixen @foxscully @gillywitch @arboreta @agirlcallednarelle @starbuckthirteen @clarke-oswald

- - - 

He should go out and meet somebody. Get to know them, fall in love with them, build a relationship with them. Yet, relationships took time, he had been down this road multiple times and each one had ended just as badly as badly as the other, this recent relationship taking it to the next level.

He was divorced from somebody he once worshipped and the custody of their child on the line.

He wasn’t going to make a habit out of this. His hand and porn usually did the job but it didn’t always fill the void, fill that sense of loneliness that has been there since he was twelve. Sometimes he just wanted physical human companionship, sometimes he just wanted that too much.

Yet still even after swiping a leaflet that fell out of a magazine at the Lone Gunmen’s for an escort agency it took him a week to build up the courage to call them.

He chooses something called “A Girlfriend Experience”, picks someone somewhere within his age-range and tries not to feel guilty about the whole thing.

.:.:.:.:.:.

She was running late.

Tardiness never felt like an option with her yet Emily had refused to go to bed even after Dana told her she had to go to work. It had ended with Dana a few minutes behind and Emily asleep in her bed.

But it was time to push that life aside for now, to enter this restaurant as Danielle and Danielle doesn’t have a child named Emily or a pile of textbooks to study through.

The restaurant her client had chosen was nice enough; one of those business-y type places that not many wealthy people touched but it was still classy enough to be considered decent to use.

It was rare that she would be fed- food wasn’t often part of the price, after all, it was an extra expense. Besides, most of the men she had encountered just wanted a suck and a fuck and maybe the odd therapy session. Maybe around three of her requests were for this Girlfriend Experience and it wasn’t like she was rolling in requests that much anyway.

Dana had realised quickly the types of women men went for: blonde, tall, boobs. Short redheads who just about fitted into a B-cup never made the cut that often.

Yet, for whatever reason, she had be chosen. From the emails sent this man seemed nice enough of course from the stories she would hear that wasn’t something concrete to go off. People could carefully choose the words they typed, could portray themselves in a certain way online. The same could be said for in person interactions too but people were more likely to slip up during those.

For now, Dana is tucked away, she dons Danielle and approaches able 25 where her companion for the night waits for her.

When she gets there, it’s a gentle tap on the arm, a smile, and a simple “Hi, Mulder.”

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Mulder’s heart stops in his chest as he stares at her, struck with the thought of how breath-taking she is.

He wouldn’t say little redheads was his ‘type’ but as he was going through the countless lists of girls he hadn’t wanted somebody his type, he wanted no reminder of Diana and so he had chosen her; Danielle, 5’3, 26 years old and the complete opposite to Diana.

He hadn’t seen her face before, for whatever reason she had kept it off the page, Mulder hadn’t been expecting much in terms of looks because of it yet he can’t keep his eyes off her.

He realises she’s said his name and almost comically stumbles his way to standing up, bashing a leg against the table making the cutlery jump and a brief amount of pain to ripple length ways across his right tigh.

“Danielle,” he says wincing through the pain. Her professional name knowing full well it wasn’t her real name. He might be new to this escort world but 1-800 numbers and taught him enough about fake names, maybe he should have considered using one.

She looks to be smiling at his clumsiness, fighting it back, trying to hide it.

A shaky start Mulder thinks, as he pulls out her chair yet she’s sitting down before he gets a chance to show how much of a gentleman he is.

He’s looking through the drinks menu when he realises she’s staring at him, drinking him in. It makes him feel self-conscious.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Danielle seems to have realised what she was doing, she quickly looks away from him.

“You’re just…different to who I usually meet with,” she says.

Mulder smiles wryly and cocks his head.

“Is that good or bad?” he asks unsure himself.

“That’s good,” she tells him. “Usually I get the…older men and they definitely don’t go out of their way to buy me food.” She lifts her head up and smiles waiting for his reply.

He has none other than how strange he must seem to her right now, how sad. He also tries not to feel jealous at the thought of her with other men. It’s a thought that comes out of nowhere, a thought he has no right in occupying.

“So do you come here often?” she’s asking.

The answer to was that no. It was a drive away from his apartment, away from any potential sightings of colleagues or people he sees on a daily basis.

“Never,” he says realising this could be chaotic.

But she’s laughing and it’s one of the nicest sounds his eyes have ever heard.

“I hope you didn’t come here just to try and impress me.”

“Try?” he counters. “So I take it you’re not so easily impressed?”

She shrugs. “I’ve been told as much.”

Mulder leans in, surprised at how comfortable he feels around her, how at ease he is.

“Well tell me,” he says. “Are you impressed?”

She looks around the establishment, pretending to think.

“Hmm…I think you could have done better.”

“Okay,” Mulder says leaning back and giving the room a once around himself. He would say he’s done pretty well but she’s laughing again, giggling actually, and the restaurant doesn’t matter.

They order food, not that he’s particularly hungry anymore, but for some reason he doesn’t want this to end. Spending $300 a night to talk seems better than spending $300 on an apology.

“So,” Mulder begins. “What do you do aside from…this.”

He wonders about the answer he will receive. She’s lied about her name, will she lie about this or will to follow the truth as much as she can, altering things here and there. He wonders how much of her true name is in her fake name.

“Well…through the day I study mostly,” she says and this perks his interest.

“What do you study?”

“Uh…” He sees she’s searching for an answer and it breaks his heart to know that he isn’t getting the truth though he had expected her to be a bit more prepared for these questions.

“Chemistry,” she finally says. “I wanted to be a scientist.” She says it almost shyly, tucking her head in and refusing to look at him. He amends his previous thought, perhaps there is a truth after all.

“Wanted?” Mulder asks. “Is that still not possible?”

“Well…I guess so. I’m just worried about somebody hiding out about…this.” She purses her lips and shrugs.

Mulder wonder if he’ll get to ask why she does this but then wonders if that’ll be rude to ask anyway even if did get the chance.

“Well, let me pose you a question,” he says just as their food arrives. “Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?”

He watches as she processes his question, her eyebrows knitting together as she attempts to formulate an answer and Mulder is curious as to what that answer is.

“Logically, I would have to say no,” she says slowly. “Given the distances needed to travel from the far reaches of space, the energy requirements would exceed the spacecraft’s capabilities.”

Mulder finds himself impressed with her, the certainty in her answer, he wonders if he’s getting a glimpse of a real person beneath the professionalism, other character.

“Okay, conventional wisdom,” he says, he expected it. “But when convention and science fail us, should we not start looking to the fantastic as answers?”

He thinks he’s caught her, she takes a while to answer, thinking it over through mouthfuls of salads. Mulder is too preoccupied with her mind to worry about the food that goes cold beneath him.

She swallows her food, sitting back in her seat and Mulder waits for the mental foreplay.

“That’s only if convention and science actually fail us.”

He thinks he’s in love.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

There’s an easiness Dana feels around Mulder. He’s nothing like her previous clients who see nothing beyond her sexual capabilities. Mulder seems to be interested in her mind, in her and she worries she might have revealed too much of herself to him but it’s rare she finds somebody to match her intellect, her classmates can’t keep up with her, her professors shut her down in order to give other members of the class a chance. She feels intellectually frustrated at times.

“Why do you ask all this?” she inquires.

Mulder shrugs. “Oh, it’s just a hobby.”

“Talking about extraterrestrials is a hobby?”

He looks away and mumbles something she doesn’t quite catch.

“What was what?” she asks.

“I look for them.”

It’s endearing, how different he is from anyone else she’s ever met.

“Do you think you’ll ever find them?” It’s not to jest or to make fun of him.

“I’d like to,” Mulder says with an essence of hopefulness in his voice.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

He makes the decision that he won’t fuck her.

He’ll pay $300 as a fee to access her amazing mind if he must.

They go away from the talk of aliens, something for which Mulder was glad. He has his own secrets locked away and if they continued on the subject anymore, he was worried they would tumble out of his mouth and he’d reveal how spooky he really was. They talk of other stuff, he throws conspiracy theories at her that he barely believes in himself just to hear her debunk them with finesse. She was the one who was right and he was wrong and Mulder is completely okay with that.

He stops when he reaches her hotel, this is the end of one of the best nights of his life. He’ll go home, think of her, perhaps rub one off to the thought of her, and that will be that. He’ll bin that leaflet and they’ll never talk again.

But she’s stopping when she realises he isn’t beside her anymore and turns with a puzzled look on her face.

“Tonight was great, Danielle,” he tells her. “I really enjoyed it.”

Her face almost seems to fall when she realises what he’s doing but she picks herself back up again, nodding.

“Well,” she says walking back towards him. “If we’re not doing that anymore at least let me give you this.”

Her lips touch his and fireworks go off behind him. Mulder feels as though he’s experiencing his first kiss all over again, new and exciting, and a fear that he’s doing something he’s not meant to do.

It doesn’t take long before he’s kissing her back, his tongue trying to gain access to her mouth and to her own tongue. She grants him permission, thank god, and he almost melts inside her mouth.

They fall against a wall, his head collides with the brick but he doesn’t care, there is nothing else on his mind other than the want to pick her up. He’s bent at an awkward angle because even in heels her forehead just about reaches his chin. He’s unsure what to do with his hands, on her hips, on her waist. She seems to become annoyed at his indecisiveness and takes his hands in her own, placing them against her ass all the while not breaking the kiss.

He grows impossibly hard as his senses go into overdrive. He wants her so bad when he said he wouldn’t.

“Danielle…” he moans coming up for air.

“Dana,” he hears her say and at first he’s confused wondering what she’s talking about. “Call me Dana.”

The penny drops. Her name!

“Dana.”

She’s back on him, kissing him harder this time and Mulder was kidding himself before; he’s going to make love to her.

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 23)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

CHAPTER 22

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: You only needed a little push from the Druid to blurt out what is needed to be said out in the open. It was time to finally recognize such feelings you have for the witcher who is out to hunt for the witch that will set you free. Thus, making you yearn more for him when you're currently still in a fight with the man himself.

Warnings: I've customized Kolby in this story of mine. He talks a little. Heh. Derogatory attitudes and words. No Still, no Geralt yet. Full blown Geralt perspective on chapter 23.1! (Not 1st POV) It will be posted earlier in Wattpad. Hehehehe. 

Words: 6k

A/N: Updates might be a lot slower than usual when September starts because it's the start of our online school. 😊 That's why I'm doing my effort in posting updates as much as possible. Feedbacks will be so nice to receive especially for an author. 😊 Also, CAN’T THEY JUST MAKE-UP ALREADY? I MISS WRITING FLUFF FOR THEM?!

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! I apologize for errors!

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be. I only own my original characters in this fanfic.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

(I know that ain't a Hirikka. Just looks like one. Hehe. It's a Madagascar Lemure to be specific. So cute. Literally looks like a Hirikka or Kolby but a smaller version! 😍)

By your sudden reckoning after days of physical torture, you deserve a reward for having your hypothesis correct. The palace guards has taken you all close to a stock still riverbed; stagnant and utterly too tranquil to begin with that it has given you doubts over how safe it is. Living with the witcher has made you more cautious over your surroundings, thinking that there would always be monsters hiding around or beneath the dark stream of water where minnows constantly waggled along your toes as you tried to test the temperature of the water.

The river curved gently through the forest, your eyes scanning all around and wary for any beasts to surprise you out of the blue. Every women began to grab onto a pile of dirt stained clothes scattered on the dry, rocky ground as you were calf deep within the rivers, looking through the trees while you stood on your place---seeing for any broken branches looking like it has been eaten or moved by a gigantic beast.

Remembering the witcher's knowledge about monsters, giving you some of the basics. He'd told you about foot prints seen on the ground as it could also be a hint that monsters may be wandering around the place.

You've felt a hand shoving your shoulders forward to disturb you out of your thoughts, the mild splashing of water coming from your stumbling body as you heard the voices of one, ill-bred castle guard, "It's safe. The servants have been washing clothes in ere' since before you even feckin' arrived," he curtly spat with no remorse. Drops of his saliva watering your face like rainfall which has made you scrunch your nose in disgust.

"We shouldn't be too sure," ambivalent of the whole place, you uttered in complete hesitance.

The castle guard boastfully crossed his arms in front of you, tilting his chin high to show how he was pressing on his dominance over a servant slash prisoner he believed you to be---his judgement being also based upon your connection with a witcher which has made him more repellant and hateful.

"Stop blathering, witcha's whore. Do your job."

There was no use to that especially that every man and woman surrounding you began to rudely stare---criticising your shilly-shallying and thinking that you were doing it to lessen your work time. All the tension was adding stones to your chest because you sincerely didn't want to do any of it at all.

One begrudging sigh and a glum frown was all it took for your feet to leave the rivers, carrying the heavyness of being trapped and controlled by people acting like they owned everything of you.

This was probably how peasants were back in history and it was humiliating to be under their jurisdiction when you have been used to freedom back in your dimension no matter how depressing it can be to be alone and a commoner.

You sat on a big pile of rock around the river bed, your knuckles turning beet red from how you have been scrubbing all clothing, under garments, any type of fabric that has got you feeling as if muscles would build up around your shoulders and arms from how thick and thin they can become. Minding your own business and wanting to finish the chores as soon as possible---being secluded from the group of chattering servants who were a few meters away from you that their abrupt jests and teases haven't been heard by you. One tall, slim maiden managed to stroll along your way, through the riverbed as she loudly called which has gotten giggles of mischievousness from the women.

"Oi! Witcher's tramp!" she loudly spoke whilst the cold wind passed by, "---I heard you're damned just like the butcher,"

Your movements have been ceased by her blatant pillory. But, you went on scrubbing the clothing on your hands while lowly murmuring a tired warning.

"Leave me alone."

Cold sweat began to drip on your temples and neck. The healing bruises on your back slightly feeling sore and you couldn't help but stretch your back upon sitting down on the rocks. Once the maiden was up close as you've seen her shadows nearby, giving her a plain gander; your memory washed through when you've seen her face.

Drishti. She was the woman who looked to be in a close relationship with the senior servants who seemed to also be mocking other women as a playful jest.

Though, you doubt yours have just been playful teases.

She swiftly turned away to crouch beside you, grabbing onto the finished fabrics that were already clean. The giggling woman dropped the wet bundle of clothes over your head that has made you breathless for too much frustrations going to your head, intentionally ruining your work and mockingly stating her apologies when some of it went straight down the waters, soiling them again.

"The queen wants it squeaky clean. No tarnishes. Leave er' out until your knuckles are bleedin'! I've seen dirt with your work---wouldn't want the queen to scold us now, don't we?"

Otker has just been watching the whole scene before him with a frown etched on his face. He didn't want to involve in such problems that women try to stir with each other especially that other knights and sentinels actually came with them. But, seeing you being bludgeoned for their entertainment was giving himself more guilt while hearing more of what they were saying.

The others began to saunter towards where you both were. Mischievous grins curling their lips as they prowled closer to where Drishti was and stopping beside her with their hands on their hips, wiping their wet hands on their aprons.

"I doubt you would be able to wash all these clothing by yourself," Drishti stated, proud of ruining your work and seeing you submissively peeling off the clothes covering your head one by one in a lethargic manner. No words spoken by the witcher's tramp that they have been calling you since the day you've seen them.

"You seem to be in a moribund by how pale ye' are! Definitely the witcher's bride!" the other maiden noticed as she crouched near you, her face closely in a few inches from yours. Yet, you didn't give her your attention and continued to ignore whatever they were doing. Fed up by all their oppression about being Geralt's whore. The label quite affecting you more and more each day as they try to make you realize that it was all your worth to him.

They weren't helping after the fight you had with him as it was still fresh inside your head, stressing you out with a want to claw anyone in your way.

"Your stupid witcher killed my knightly hombre for a floozie like ye'!" Drishti snarled, raising her foot to kick you on the side before seeing her in your peripheral vision and blocking her assaults with a shove of your hands, pushing her calf away from your body.

"---Not. My. Stomach. Bitch."

The bitchy maiden squinted her eyes, guessing as to why you seem to be in a flurry and protective state over the stomach you've suddenly held dear. She tilted her chin, comprehending what was keeping you all guarded rather than accepting their tyrannizes just like how you've been days before.

You were acting like a pregnant woman, she thought in the back of her mind. Now, Drishti knew you were basically fucking the witcher---and you were too naive to know that he was sterile.

Though, they never know anything at all besides that.  

"Feisty and defensive, aye! Ye' growin' a cub down there? I doubt!" she scoffed from the idea and how you were avoiding her eyes, guilty from being caught, "---you've gone doolally if you ever think the witcher gots you pregnant, harlot!"

Drishti was about to tug onto your hair when your guarding has been on the low, choosing to ignore her. Like a shot, an uninvited whisk of a wind passed by. The gasps and yelps of people around started to begin again with buzzes of incoherent gossips. Their fingers pointing towards an undesirable visitor who can never be accepted by people in their land.

A familiar growl vibrated beside you, making you turn your head to see your Hirikka standing for safeguard. His fangs shown towards Drishti who was now sitting upon the riverbed, her bottom drenched in her own clothes from being shoved by the beast you call your own, looking like she has seen her own fears appear before her.

"Kolby?" sweetly called by you, gasping afterwards by feeling the relief wash over, "---Kolby! I thought you were gone,"

Upon the de trop invitation of the Hirikka, pandemonium started to arise for his presence. Wary of the sound of swords unsheathing from their covers and gallants suddenly coming forth towards the both of you.

It suddenly made you stand up in defense, hiding Kolby behind whilst you fought for his life.

"Kill it!" Roger, the head guard suddenly started his upheaval. Marching towards you with his sword on his side, paranoid over the monster that they're seeing.

"Stop! he's harmless! Just feral because you are using your swords on him!" Their actions made you shout at the top of your lungs, making them cease their steps when Kolby swiftly turned to change position and stood in front, safeguarding you from everyone he sees peril.

One sentinel huffed in abhorrence, his face shadowing outrage for the brute trying to protect another human. Disbelief written inside their eyes as Kolby continued to loudly howl in the middle of the forest and riverbed.

"That's a feckin' monster you gots there, you foolish woman!"

You reached for the Hirikka, softly petting his head which quickly have him calm down in the slightest, leaning his muzzle closer to your face as he purred. Noting his particular stench that he had from being away for days and out in the forest.

"Kolby is harmless! I can even pet him! He will prove you all that this Hirikka is harmless for anyone. Would you do the honors, Otker?"

The forest green eyed man suppressed all his opinions to himself as he observed what was happening. Reveling in his own silence, his name was abruptly called out of the blue, snapping from his own dwam as Otker surveyed the looks of everyone who were scattered around him, their defense up and alert whilst they hold their weapons.

"M-Must it be me?" he stuttered and tweeted, his weight shifting from one foot to the other while his foot tapped on the ground. Otker seeming to be reluctant from your suggestion when he'd given Kolby a scan of his eyes as the Hirikka barred his teeth dispassionately, distinguishing to be a smile that caught the chevalier in surprise.

"---He's harmless, lads. Unless you're keeping his master in danger then he'll bite,"

Nobody believed him. That wasn't new to a newly employed knight who hadn't reach years of working for the kingdom.

One Kaedweni scout yelled his hatred over your monster out in the open, "Slaughter the beast and behead!"

They've all taken one step forward. Their stance never capitulating no matter how much convincing was ever told. Kolby vehemently yowled and barked in the middle of their pussyfooting till they could reach you both. It sounded like a howl of a wolf who was calling for its kind. Their obstinacy made you squawk out of nowhere, rattling the quietude of the forest as you felt your heart pounding faster and louder against your chest. Your temples thumping in torment because your head was starting to ache from the stress they were trying to give and for also feeling your other half's current state.

Your screams made them jerk back, the maidens clearing their throat and subtly stepping back from your sudden outrage.

"I'd like to see you try before I tell him to rip your head first while I feed your balls off to fuckin' Ghouls!" you shrieked and panted, feeling another gist of a panic-attack about to happen. Your emotions were starting to be a squall before a hurricane, utterly ferocious and turbulent because of the pent-up aggression kept for days long.

"---Just leave me the fuck alone for this once! You're all insane for annoying the shit out of me since the moment I got here! I've been doing everything you wanted! Wasn't all the drubbing enough?! Call me the witcher's whore, tramp, harlot, his sex-doll for all I care! I know my face shows how I'm always thirsty for Geralt's dick but you don't need to know that! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" pause. "---FUCKING ASSHOLES IN THE MEDIEVAL ERA! YOU'RE STRESSING ME OUT!"

You were a towering rage set in a small body of a woman. Your face wild and vicious---in the verge of crying and wanting to bring back the time where you have never drowned in a lake you hardly remember; for it to have the power of never transporting into another dimension that was staring to take a toll on you, never wanting to have met Geralt along the way so you wouldn't have love him too much just like how you do now.

Thinking about his whereabouts every single day despite of being thoroughly upset over him, still caring for him even knowing that he didn't even loved you.

Tears were being squeezed from the eyes who have already cried all night and day. But, it seemed like it decided not to give the people in front---the taste of your desperation for peace and happiness especially without your anchorage who happened to be breaking the chains for you.

Roger took a step back, hearing growling from afar and not just from your Hirikka. His head snapped to where the noise where coming from when he was suddenly standing stiff from where he stood, eyeing a dozen of wild Hirikkas grouping themselves from the other side of the river. Grimy and nasty looking more than Kolby; taller, bigger and some were buffed like a bear. Their teeth barred for everyone to see as the monsters were scanning them one by one with their wild golden eyes.

The kaedweni sentinels seen it all, even the maidens who were silently panicking from seeing such monsters prowling away from them, standing to watch what was happening as if Kolby was their alpha. They all looked at Roger who begrudgingly sheathed his sword, ignoring your dispute with a single nod of his head for his men.

"They're everywhere. The beast must've called for reinforcements," he exhaled a breath of exasperation, taking a gander to give you a glare.

"---Stand down, lads."

All at once, they've yielded their weapons. Some shaking their heads at what they were witnessing. However, most were sending crude remarks over your relationship with a monster they believed and had profound repugnance over its kind.

"You're...You're a feckin' mutant too! Get your feckin' monster out of ere' before we kill ye' instead!"

Nevertheless, as each hour and days pass by. It seems like their ridicules sound like a normal thing to hear now after a ton of shameless monikers coming from them whenever they were seeing you. Becoming numb over what humans think of because you were simply associated with Geralt of Rivia. A witcher in their world. Catching more undisputed names that you hardly know as he seemed not to be the only witcher that people knew.

Hushed words were buzzing through the air whilst everyone tried hard to go back to their chores. The guards being more wary and defensive especially that the Hirikkas on the other end didn't leave the rivers after raising the white flag. Servants couldn't look you in the eye now after the commotion or particularly because Kolby was crouched beside while you went back to sit on the large stone.

He was breathing out large breaths through his snout while you scrubbed the dirty laundry again that Drishti has ruined, hearing a primal murmur of an animalistic whirr of his lungs.

"Ger...Ger...alt...Gwenn...bleid,"

Your eyes simply went wide at that, quickly understanding what words he was trying to form. Blood seeming to be pumping faster through your heart like you were hearing the first words of your child, excitement and curiosity rushing all around.

"You talk?! Are you curious as to where Geralt is?" Kolby gave a wince of his muzzle, snarling to himself like his sudden talking was making him hurt. You've quickly reached out and scratched the back of his long, wide, sharp ears that made him bark in felicity.

"He's not here though. Geralt is probably out in the woods hunting for the witch to get me out of this castle. Then, after that...I'm probably going back to where I came from because we had a fight,"

Kolby's doe eyes stared straight to your soul, whimpering as if he understood what you meant. The Hirikka subtly shook his head, making you furrow your brows from his peculiar gestures.

"You don't believe me?" only a loud sniff of his nose was given as an answer. He made a noise at the back of his throat that only he could do---sounding like a purr and a growl. Kolby sniffed another on your apron, across your stomach before promptly sitting up straight. His eyes as wide as the sun was shining above you whilst he suddenly screeched in a high-pitch tone for three times. Pausing in every yelp that got you covering your ears for how loud it was.

You were about to ask him what was wrong when he stood up on his paws, his teeth chattering like how cats are whenever they're on a hunt. The other Hirikkas loudly howling before Kolby sprinted beside you and paved away for the second time.

"Kolby! No! Come back! Not again!"

Your Hirikka was the only precious warmth you could remember like how a home can give. But, now; even Kolby was running away from you just like how Geralt chose to disregard the warmth you sincerely felt for him.

"Can't I have one day of rest?"

The exhausting day finally came to an end. Your chest feeling more and more heavier each day---probably having more weight than what you usually hold on to when you're upset. With Geralt's feelings overflowing yours and combining with the disappointment you had for him.

In the deepest part of your heart, there was still the obvious yearning to be in the arms of your witcher as days went on. The curse of the djinn being also somewhat a connection of souls you had with Geralt. Combination of feelings being stronger each day but never knowing what it truly was. Undisclosed secrets never been told to each other which heightened more of the weight on both of your shoulders.

With your back towards the door, the druid stood upon the threshold with stuff on his feeble arms.

"Wear this," Eanraig took several steps closer, placing the basket of womanly essentials on the side table of your bed. He slowly lowered the dress on the foot of the mattress before you rolled on your back with a whimper of your sore muscles.

"---The queen has set you a gown for a feast,"

"Is this the day I die?" you deadpanned, staring at the ceiling, "---this happens in the movies. They become good to me for one day because I'm dying the next. I'm naive, but not entirely stupid. Thanks, Eanraig."

Lifting yourself up on the bed, your back leaning against the headboard. You've maneuvered on all fours, crawling towards the lacy gown displayed along the golden sheets of the mattress. The color of the dress singing praises over the hues laid upon. Raising quite a heavy dress saluting back at you was a raven painted renaissance dress dangling over the bust part of a woman's body with a thin, see through fabric that fell along the arms like a sleeve to cover them up.

It was beautiful since black was a color you've always opted to wear back in earth. The color being basic and not difficult to match up with accessories. Yet, the whole gown seemed to be a planned outfit because of how gothic it looked, like the dress was meant to wear for something else.

Your mouth fell into a gloomy frown, realizing what this whole jet-black look was giving.

"A death dress. Wow. I'm impressed."

Eanraig couldn't help but scratch the nape of his neck, avoiding your callous guise and the idea of what you said, "If you still want to live or see the Witcher and give him his progeny then you must attend the feast that was planned for you---somehow, it is."

Dropping the dress back on the sheets, your mouth was set on a thin line as you speak, "---and pretend I'm happy like they didn't beat the shit out of me?"

There was a beat of silence that filled the chambers he was in. Eanraig unconsciously scratched his whitening beard, sitting on the side of the bed beside you, "Just remember to stay low and never create a scene,"

"Tell your knights to not touch me then,"

A long deafening pause lingered between you. Eanraig's grey eyes filled with dread from what he misunderstood over what was said, quickly thinking about your witcher when he knows you have been 'touched' without your consent. Geralt would never get to tranquilize his savagery regardless whether a sorceress, wizard or any of the royal family stood before him when you have been abused for more than what was expected.

They've promised not to touch you. The witcher wouldn't take such broken promises without having their heads sliced from his hands.

"Were you..." the druid uttered and was lost in his trepidation, suggesting that their assaults have been more to that.

You were quick to shake your head firmly, swallowing that uncomfortable feeling down your throat from even just thinking about it. Knights and guards never did touch you in that way because of how they've loathed your relationship by being the witcher's tramp---thinking that you were one disgusting human they can never tolerate to try and bed you. Somehow, you were thankful that they've found you disgusting rather than appealing because you didn't know what to do nor have the energy to live on their world knowing that they have paved their way to have you.

Your spine felt the cold prickle, making you shiver and grabbing a hold of yourself by placing both of your palms on either side of your arms, more hopeless without any comfort around you but yourself.

"No. Not in that kind, Eanraig." pause. You've quickly changed the topic, "---I've never had any sleep since the moment Geralt left."

It's definitely not comfortable to be sleeping in a huge castle where memories of men beating you up shadowed on the four corners of the room. Frigidness completing your night where you have done nothing but stare from a distance, waiting for the moment where it was finally time to leave. The jocular memories filling your evening with nothing but the smiles of Jaskier, Cirilla and Geralt, excruciating when it came to reminiscing in the exact moment where Geralt had you in his arms by night, shushing you to sleep when he wasn't out to kill actual monsters and he was just there to protect you from yours.  

"Having no proper sleep may harm the baby."

A sardonic laugh filled the room. The baby inside you was giving more complications upon staying in the castle, knowing that Ingrith hated you for it and for what the child was capable of. If only she could slice your throat, she probably would have done it in your sleep. Yet, the sorceress seemed to be like a person who held a name where she couldn't do any obvious wicked schemes that will harm her status.

"It's not like this castle isn't dangerous 24/7. You think I can sleep knowing that Geralt would actually leave me alone and I raise this child all by myself in a world I hardly know about?"

Now, Eanraig had the chance to skip the topic to something else, trying not to stress you more because he knew that a pregnant woman shouldn't be in distress from any begrudging news or complications. In due course, he was finally understanding that you overthink about such things where it could be affecting your mental state no matter how sooner or later, you'll be muttering how Geralt could sip tea with his monsters then sobbing afterwards because you were mindlessly missing to stay at his home. All away from the troubles that everyone was giving.

"I am unaware of women's essentials. But, I have brought you what I have retrieved from Cynthia. She has adviced for you to doll up being pretty as a princess," he was caught up in his own thoughts, pointing at a basket laid beside the bed. An unfamiliar name of a woman that he hardly ever mentioned until tonight.

With the ends of your lips raising into a smile, you couldn't stop the teasing gaze given to the druid which made him throatily chuckle while crawling to take a peek inside the basket, "It's...make up. This Cynthia you call, is she your wife?" unconsciously, your brows wiggled to goad over how timorous he suddenly became.

Even the magical so called 'druid' had his own rocky relationship with a woman.

Love. What's in it for you between Geralt? was it the affection bound to be felt for him?

You were reading the signs---his signs as if he was being hot and cold. Push and pull. Jumping and then taking a step back whenever he was swimming too deep, hesitant over such that you may never know until he tells.

"I'm afraid so, Little woman. But hardly my betrothed." the scholar chuckled and shook his head, turning his head to see you shuffle under the sheets, slipping in and hugging the blanket over your body longing for a witcher's touch regardless of being in a fight with him.

"Not official then. Hmm."

"You are starting to be the same as your witcher,"

A brow was lifted as you heard him acknowledge the fact that you were catching onto Geralt's habits of humming, your mouth forming a tight thin line as if he was sharing that you were slowly becoming one with him.

"Thanks for the dress and make-up, Eanraig. I just want to leave this castle for good already." you sneered, promptly laying down on the bed. Your back away from the druid which got him raising his brows because of your never ending worries.

Well, if you weren't living in a world like theirs and accidentally transported to their dimension with the lore of monsters---he certainly would go crazy just like how you were deeply pondering over circumstances.

"Back where you came from? Or back in your home with Geralt?"

"I...don't know,"

The bed squeaked as Eanraig shifted against the mattress, scooting closer to prove the witcher's understandable logic, "You know he didn't mean to say that. If anyone knows more about him in this castle, it must be you, Little Woman." he stated as a matter of fact, leaving no arguments on the latter part of his sentence.

Though, feeling attacked over pointing the blame on you felt like wildfire.

"He called me pathetic and wanted me to shut up, Eanraig."

"He's been called more than just displeasing names if we were to talk about his experiences. Geralt has created barriers over people that sometimes slips in between moments like this," he paused for a beat of second, continuing to provide more assurance and knowledge over his perspectives.

"---Maybe, you must have upset him too---hurt him in such ways which made him defensively talk back,"

Your lower lip quivered from the horrid truth that Geralt's friend managed to let out for you to think through, saving the best reason for last about the motives why you were acting snappy and cranky from the start.

"He doesn't love me,"

The scholar couldn't help but lowly chuckle beneath his breath, sounding like a scorn or derision that made you curl up like a ball under the sheets that was thrown over your head.

"But, he's out there finding a witch that is difficult to find. Correct?" pause. "---Even had killed men for you that no other men could do in the continent. So, how sure are you to say that his feelings aren't love?"

Another dreading beat of silence came after. The constant pauses being a fear for receiving more hurtful truths that kept you whining throughout the night.

You kicked your foot inside the sheets, facing front against the bed like a plank. Your voice sounding muffled through the soft fabric, "He...was searching for his lost lover before I came around."

"Before you came around," he repeated in a sing-song tone, "---Is he still searching for her whereabouts?"

"I...don't know. People have been telling me that he isn't meant to love another,"

Eanraig smiled to himself, his palms slapping his knees whilst he stood with a persuasive tone, "Then, you don't have enough trust and faith for him when you are giving him doubts. You are just like other people who sees him as the mutant that they all tell---a witcher who has no emotions nor is capable of having,"

The latter turned his back away. Deciding to leave you alone after pushing your hesitance through the limits. You just needed a push over actually trying to be the matured one---a mind of a mother who would only care for her child or family than herself. He knew it was in there, the femininity after knowing from Tybalt that you have begged to be taken rather than for Geralt's child of surprise to be kidnapped, including the humble bard whom has received beatings from the army.

As he stood, Eanraig heard a quiet sob followed suit and a hiccup from keeping everything too long to yourself---even kept everything from the witcher because you didn't have it in you.

"I-I don't! I don't see him as that! You don't get to judge me!" another hiccup resonated in the room, your stuttering making the druid frown from how small and fragile you instantly seemed to be. Knowing that one of the reasons why Geralt has been protecting you with all the risks included.

You were certainly like a bread before it has even been baked. A dough that appeared and felt to be soft once touched, your characteristics needed to be molded to make you stronger in their world. Sensitiveness being a sole weakness and he knew Geralt would've seen it with one look. Unless, the witcher must've loved how vulnerable and helpless you are---your naivity and innocence over lots of things has Geralt keeping you closer to his side.

Maybe, the witcher doesn't want you to change at all.

The druid knew that because even with Cynthia, he loved all her attributes and personality with all his heart. Accepting her imperfections and weaknesses as a part of her that makes her...human.

"---I love him, Eanraig. I love Geralt. I genuinely fell for him before I even know it and this child we have isn't helping when I know he would only ever love me as a woman that will eventually fade when she comes back around!"

Sobbing under the sheets was better than bawling your eyes out for another man to see. You went on in sobbing and curling into a fetus position, hearing Eanraig sigh but never seeing the regret in his eyes by triggering you into becoming this sobbing woman who would cry the night away.

"I'm sure he knows how you feel for him, Little Woman. Tell him before it's too late," he scratched his beard with his thumb, seeing you shift under the blankets and turning half away but not actually seeing your face as you were still hiding inside the sheets.

"---No matter how deep he's fond of you or not because you both have created a bundle of joy who is bound to walk through the continent. I am sure she has been made with love," Pause.

"Regrets won't get you living in happiness because you'll always come back to the moment where you hope to have confessed," Eanraig gave a small smile you never saw as you continued to wail. The bond that the Djinn has cast you both in gradually making you suffer from its yearning it was having for the witcher who was not there for you to hold nor talk to. The scholar knew it has given you both such connection that won't be easy to break.

"---Geralt's not entirely inhuman. You both have shared a bond together that nobody can ever experience. Never fear for the witcher who has captured your fragile heart---who knows, you might have captured his since then.Yet, he doesn't give candor due to his brooding persona. Don't let fear conquer the love you have for him,"

Sorry for the typos and errors! I've edited this all in my phone. (via Wattpad) Spare me an error please? HAHAHAHAH! COMMENTS OR FEEDBACKS WILL MAKE MY HEART TWERK! GO DO IT, BB! Tell me your guesses as to what will happen when it's finally the night of the feast in the castle! 😉🙈

Taglist for WOTN: (Strikethrough means your blog can’t be tagged. Please check your settings, bb’s! Thank you.) @alyxkbrl​ @himarisolace​ @barkingbullfrog​ @ayamenimthiriel​ @hellodevilslittlesister @turkish276​ @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us​ @nympeth​ @amirahiddleston​ @gabethelobster​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​ @uncoolcloudyhead​ @melaninstylezz​ @psychosupernaturalhero​ @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer​​​​ @marvelousell​​​​ @kingniazx​​​​ @angelias134​​​​ @tapismyforte​​​​ @chook007​​​​ @butterpumpkinscotch​​​​ @deadlydemon​​​ @cheesecakeisapie​​​ @angelofthor​​​​ @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum, @stuckupstucky​​​, @shesthelastjedi​​​, @a–1–1–3​​, @gutfucks​​​, @raynosaurus-rex​​​, @britty443​​​, @suhke3​​​, @shadowclawstudio88​​​, @ruthoakenshield​​​, @just-a-sad-donut​​​, @gxrdenr0se, @singeramg​​​  @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​​, @alexwinchester23​​, @naturalthrone22​

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza​​​, @crazybutconfidentaf​​​

General taglist for any Henry Cavill fics: @agniavateira​​​, @iloveyouyen​​​, @rahdaleigh​​​, @silverkitten547​​​, @henrythickcavill​​​, @kaatelyyynn​​​, @marvelousell​​​, @madelinelina​​​, @summersong69​​​, @raynosaurus-rex​​​, @fckdeusername​​​, @evansislife​

[orbitariums]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟓)

note - once again, thank you for reading!! it took me a while for this chapter and i wanted to execute it properly. it’s long so i hope y’all got a place to sittt!!! srry if it has typos i didn’t go thru in depth!!

i introduced a new character in this named alex. i see him being portrayed as alex turner or oscar isaac, but you’re free to picture anyone!!!

let me know what y’all think of this chapter!!!!! i love some of the scenes in this, i feel like i structured it differently than how i usually do and you get to see their lives a lil more <3

new taglist

playlist

warnings - angst, stucky mission!, angst!, cigarette smoking, hints of 2013-2014 tumblr vibes for sure 

word count: 9.7k

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

    "Back to working late nights, I see."

As Steve looked over his shoulder, he was met with the sight of Natasha leaning against the jamb of the open door to his office. The light from the hallway flooded into his dimly lit office, the only lighting being the lamp on his desk. She had her arms folded, a small smile on her face as Steve looked up at her.

    Locking eyes with him, it was no surprise that he had the same tired gaze that had been lingering in his eyes for the past three weeks since he'd stopped talking to you, almost a month. And while Nat may not have been surprised, she, like everyone else, was concerned. Steve was different from the man he had been just a few weeks ago, the man who seemed suddenly uplifted. He had rose up from his bad mood only to re-enter the slump he was in before, only worse.

    This time, the slump Steve was in wasn't irritated and unnecessarily aggressive due to pent up sexual frustration, but it was lethargic, a melancholia that creeped in slowly. He seemed sad and gloomy, "not in the mood." Before any of Steve's mood swings, he was just the kind of calm and serious person that Steve Rogers was.

Then you came along and he was Steve Rogers in Wonderland. Now that you were gone, it was like he'd buried himself into a dark and deep hole, and not the one that Alice fell into. He was just sort of somber and quiet, too quiet. Isolated, like he was now - deep into his work, but not in a good way.

   Steve didn't even muster a smile. He just slumped back slightly into his chair and sighed, the cold gloom in his eyes unwavering.

   "Working on something from the Sokovia unit."

   Nat offered a small, sad smile,

    "Need anything? You're missing out on movie night."

    Steve shook his head. He knew that Nat was checking on him for other reasons, but he didn't want to be the one to address it. He hadn't talked to anyone about it, not even Bucky, who was the only one to flat out ask what was happening. The others sort of danced around the topic. But it bothered Natasha greatly. She had to ask, because even she couldn't figure it out.

    "Don't need anything. Thanks."

    "Steve. What's going on?" Nat asked, fed up. She walked in further and closed the door behind her. "You're acting strange again."

    Steve mustered the tiniest of smiles, shrugging,

    "Just been busy these days."

    "No, you've been purposefully making yourself busy. You're all cooped up in here. You're by yourself all the time, even when you're around us. What's going on?" Nat sat on the edge of the table, looking down at him with her eyebrows drawn together. "No one else is asking, but we're all wondering it."

    Steve sighed. He'd been isolating himself, burying himself in work to distract himself from the thought of you. The two of you had ended on such a rough note, and it was hard for him to even process it. It scared him, how much more he thought about you now that he had stopped talking to you, thinking that would be the solution.

Thinking that leaving you alone would stop things from escalating. And they had, maybe in the way of your actual relationship with each other. But for Steve individually? The feelings were worse than they had been. He was hurt that he had hurt you, and it was like leaving you only exposed how much he really did need you.

    And to think of it that way felt like his biggest defeat. Like he was letting his responsibilities down. He couldn't feel this way about someone he met online, not in the way that he met you. He couldn't let it get to this point, and yet it was impacting him so strongly, much more than he'd expected.

    So he retracted, recoiled to be alone. He hated the way it had gone down - hated the fact that he had scared himself, hated the fact that he had even allowed things to feel that serious. But mostly he hated the fact that he couldn't be honest with himself - or maybe he hated the fact that now that he was being honest with himself, he was depriving himself of a good thing out of fear. And he had virtually no one to talk this out with, because he'd have to tell the full story, and he still forbid himself to do that.

    It was over, and he didn't want to put this on his team's plate, even if it was over with. Now that he had ended things, he didn't have anything to hide anymore, but that didn't mean he was just going to reveal everything. He still felt like his leadership would be at stake if he were to, although not selfishly. It felt like something so private. He needed to think this out with himself.

    So while he knew why Natasha was checking in, and knew that she was right to, because clearly something was happening, he still couldn't open up. So he just dismissed it with a wave of his hand and a false smile,

    "Don't worry, I've just been tired." Steve hopped up from his desk, allowing a burst of energy, even if ingenuine, to take over.

He didn't want the others to worry about him like this. The situation was a big enough deal already. He didn't want them in on his own personal pain, which he had fully decided to take care of himself - though he wasn't doing a very good job of it. He continued, grinning.

   "I'll join you guys for movie night," he decided.

He hadn't magically gotten better, but if this was what it might take to ensure his team that he was fine, he would bring himself out of his little hole, just for a few hours. He needed a break anyway, he'd been starting to drift when Natalie came in, thinking of you specifically.

    But Natasha wasn't buying it, the fake smile, the sudden burst of energy. It was like he was putting on a show, but she wasn't a fan of his performance.

    She stood up and sort of blocked him, staring him down with a dead serious look in her eyes, her arms folded. She wasn't angry, but she was disappointed by Steve's behavior. The past few months had been so topsy turvy with him, his changes in mood weren't making any sense. Out of anyone on the team, she felt like he understood her, had made the effort to make a true connection with her, rather than just gaze on, intimidated by her.

    "I know you, Steve. You're not fooling anyone." As Steve's smile turned into a frown, Natasha turned around, walking out of his office. On her way out she followed with, "Come back when you're ready to be honest."

♡ ♡ ♡ 

     "Can we get another round of mimosas, please?"

     Aaliyah's voice brought you back down to earth. The spring air bristled against your dewy skin, the sun shining down on you from where you were both sitting in the seating area outside the cafe. If anything, you were grateful for California's sunshine. It kept you sane, and reminded you that no matter what, you'd always have the sun.

      You were sitting outside you and Aaliyah's favorite brunch place (with bottomless mimosas), just to catch up and talk. You'd been busy dealing with school work and your personal life. And just now, you were a bit distracted, thinking of all the things that led you to this point. You were thinking of Steve, who still came around the wild landscape of your mind once in a while, like the shadow of a maintenance man who you never quite met. It had been almost a month since you stopped talking to Steve.

     It still hurt sometimes when you thought about it, because you missed the rush of talking to him - your experience with Steve was so unique to your experience with any other customer. But it wasn't all about the rush - you missed really talking to him and getting to know him. Even though it felt like it had been all for naught, you felt a warm feeling in your chest when you thought about him.

     You hadn't felt that way with a customer, and while you realized it was silly and irresponsible for the both of you to get as caught up as you had, you still loved every moment of talking to him. It took a special person for you to want to talk to Steve as much as you did - doing private shows for him, requesting him instead of the other way around. It was truly one of the more wholesome experiences you'd had with a customer. The rush was a part of it - it was exciting and thrilling.

     But it was also calming, full of comforting conversation and freeing interactions. It was like this unhinged pleasure you were inviting each other to share, in every sense of the word - it wasn't just you servicing him, though that was a part of it. It felt like in a sense, he also served you.

    The feelings were mutual. You listened to each other, you felt like you knew each other. So, since you were being honest with yourself, you could admit it hurt. But you didn't let it drag you down, especially now that it had been over three weeks. Mostly, when you thought of him, it was nostalgic, like you were waking up from a dream and only remembering traces of it. Just remembering, not grieving.

     Aaliyah noticed your silence and offered you a tiny, shy smile. Ever you had been focusing on yourself, you hadn't been talking to Aaliyah nearly as much. Now that you felt comfortable being in the same spaces as before, you were together, talking it out.

     You'd only told her bits and pieces of the story - that meant she only really knew about the situation with your ex and schoolwork. As for Steve, you kept most of that to yourself.

       "You good, babe?" she reached over and squeezed your shoulder, clad in a loose blouse top.

You grinned, and it was genuine, biting down on your straw as you shook your head playfully,

      "More now than ever."

Aaliyah's smile widened. She knew when you were being genuine, and she was glad to see that this was one of those times. You'd been withdrawn recently, but with good purpose and even better intentions. You were taking all that time to heal for yourself. And amazingly, you had never been more honest with yourself in your life. Ever since Steve, you went through it for a few days.

    You were saddened by the abrupt loss of Steve, even if he was only in your life for a short time. But you didn't lose sight of the realities of your relationship - it would never work out that way. You let yourself sink into sadness only for the first few days afterwards.

     You knew that to let your sadness continue would be extremely unhealthy, and would only cause you to question whether or not you were really fit for this job, where making connections with strangers was pretty important. This couldn't happen frequently, or at all.

     And on top of that, you had been drowning in stress from school and stress from your personal life: morose after the situation with Steve, feeling so much emotional turmoil from your situation with your ex boyfriend. But after a while, you were able to lift yourself up. You knew how unhealthy it would be if you let yourself stay sad because of Steve - you didn't even know him and he had proven that he was just a customer.

     Though that didn't mean you doubted your connection for one minute. You just hated the way you had underestimated what that meant when it came to boundaries, both for you and Steve. You had overshared. It just reminded you that there seemed to be a certain pattern in the relationships in your life, and they all taught you one thing: don't get too comfortable.

But after about a week of beating yourself up over that, feeling stupid and naive and embarrassed for opening up, you moved on to the more important things that needed to be handled - your school work, and how you would successfully move on from your toxic ex. You already had, but when you got that text, it felt like you were relapsing.

    This wasn't just moving on, it was moving on completely and fully. It wouldn't be done by magic, through a divine snap of the fingers. But instead it was a process, an incredibly healing process, one that you actually wanted to find your way through.

     It felt like despite all the progress you had made- all the patching up you'd done as a result of not just that one, but many toxic relationships in your life - you cracked so easily just being reminded of one of them. You didn't want that to be you anymore, even if it didn't mean you weren't strong. It just meant you were human.

     You didn't dismiss all the growth you had made ever since you broke up with your ex, all the bad habits you had broken and the new spaces you had welcomed yourself into. But you didn't want to be the kind of person who cracked under pressure. Part of those toxic relationships was acknowledging the fact that those people will try again to get back into your life after realizing their loss.

    And you understood that now. Your ultimate goal now was to get back on your feet and allow yourself to be as strong as you were and work on how you dealt with personal stressors such as these.

     Your campus offered professional mental help and you took advantage of it as much as possible. You didn't disclose everything, especially not the details of your other job, but you talked about your emotions and your relationships and how you felt like you needed to learn how to handle times of duress. So, you got into therapy; it was a life saver. It wasn't that the incident with Steve had triggered you so much that you needed to get therapy, but the context of the incident and the feelings that roused you to that breaking point on screen with him made you realize you needed help.

     You had done everything yourself before, all your healing, all your growth - but it wasn't shameful to get help. You realized that while you felt sated being a lone wolf and doing everything yourself, that while it was what you were used to and you never complained about it, you didn't have to go through this alone.

     Part of why you never did before was because you didn't realize you could, too. That therapy wasn't just for people who were in situations much worse than your own. You could have a place to healthily let out your feelings, instead of letting them overflow inside of you, or to strangers.

     "Therapy's helping," you nodded, and Aaliyah sat back and listened. "It's helpful for situational things like this, but I think I should've been in therapy like, a really long time ago."

      "I'll drink to that," Aaliyah nodded intensely and raised her mimosa glass to clink with yours before bringing it to her lips and taking a sip.

You laughed, and you were almost surprised to hear the sound of your own laugh, so uncaring and so free. Not the kind of laugh you let out when you're restricting your joy. Just full, pure, laughter. You didn't have to become this hysterical ultrasad woman just because of your experiences - you were proof that things could and did get better.

       You were living just fine before the crash of life came down upon you, you were satisfied with life. But now you felt like you had accomplished some form of ego death, and realized there was more than just being "satisfied." You hadn't thought there was before.

     "For real though, I'm proud of you," Aaliyah nodded, making direct eye contact with you. "I'm glad you took this time to yourself. You glow better when you're happy."

     "And when I'm not being bothered by idiotic men," you rolled your eyes.

Multiple, your brain reminded you - your ex-boyfriend, your idiot professor, and Steve, to an extent. You appreciated what it was that you two had, an undeniable chemistry, but he reminded you of most men - afraid to open up. Though you couldn't feel spiteful towards him. In this context, it made perfect sense that he didn't want to open up.

     "Oh yeah, update me on that? I know it's over with your ex-"

     "Yup. I told him not to contact me again. Then I blocked him," you replied with a heaving sigh - a sigh of release. It felt good to say that out loud again. It felt good to know that your response was final, and that any further badgering you received wasn't as a result of your invitation.

It was as easy as that, even though it took you days just to even figure out what kind of message to send. You could've met up with him, talked things out - at the worst, gotten together again, but you knew you'd never let that happen. You could've listened to whatever he had to say.

    But you had decided that whatever he wanted to tell you, whatever apology he was going to issue, could've been avoided had he just treated you right, instead of constantly dismissing you, instead of reacting to everything with nonchalance. So you didn't need to hear it, and you didn't need to light yourself on fire just to decide whether or not to forgive him- you didn't need to decide at all. So you left it alone, and left him blocked.

Aaliyah just smiled softly at you, so grateful for your steady energy and your strong presence. You were such close friends, it felt like your experiences were mutual. Everything you went through, she was by your side, and vice versa. She was so proud of you for making the decisions you made, and so proud that you came to that result.

     "As you should!" Aaliyah squealed, reaching over and squeezing your hands excitedly. "You really are that bitch. And your project... he said it's a go?"

You smiled bashfully as you squeezed Aaliyah's hands back.

     "Yeah, we talked it out. I still have to modify it which is a huge pain in my ass, but I can manage. So it's fine. At least I'm not dealing with a million other things on top of that."

Aaliyah smirked, again raising her glass to tap it against yours,

     "Cheers to that, babe."

So you had been on this journey, and you had sought out help where it was most valuable - in yourself, in friends, in professionals, and in the world around you. And in return you had learned that you didn't have to be strong all the time, that it was okay to break sometimes - as long as you knew how to cope. And that advice went such a long way.

    Things were looking up from here.

♡ ♡ ♡ 

    Ever since his confrontation with Natasha, Steve had been in deep thought. He was disappointed in himself for letting it get to the point where his interactions with his team felt hostile. Where he appeared so lonely and even sulky. It wasn't like him as a leader, and it wasn't who his team looked up to.

    He didn't want his interactions with people to feel so unfulfilling as a result of his own personal catastrophes, especially when it came to someone like Nat, who was the only one to boldly address his change in mood. He felt like a loser for allowing himself to go as dark as he had. It was something he should've had more control over, something he should've never let creep into his life the way it had.

     Steve wasn't some creepy old man slowly dilapidating in a lonesome one-bedroom home, with no friends and no lovers. He had gone onto the site to find some kind of sexual release, because he had nowhere else to realistically take out his pent up energy, at least not in his eyes. He wanted that connection, and he found it with you.

    He should've been satisfied. The only problem was that he was in for more than he was prepared for. And maybe it was because he was old fashioned and really wanted that kind of connection, because Stark easily went through girls like Moonrose like it was nothing, no strings attached. It only further proved that Steve wasn't built for that.

     He figured that as long as he was distracting himself from the problem by burying himself in work and isolating himself, he at least wasn't doing his job any harm. That was the most important to him - his work.

    But the people that mattered most to Steve were beginning to point out to him that ignoring a personal problem wasn't going to solve it. And Steve should've known that naturally, because one of the biggest elements of his job was to solve problems. He was a logical person, he loved answering the unanswered and finding solutions.

     But that was his job. This was a personal issue, and it was unlike anything he'd been through. He supposed he'd never known how to cope, and that talking to you was just a sliver of one of the ways he did cope.

    He didn't put everything on you, nor did he want to - that was why he'd stopped talking to you. You knowing everything he was going through would be dangerous for the both of you, for obvious reasons. Though you felt like you knew each other, you didn't really know who he was, and maybe that wouldn't have been such a big deal if it weren't for the fact that he was Captain America.

    So when he stopped talking to you, it was like a part of him stopped coping. Lucky for him, not everyone was just going to let him sulk around.

    "Alright, Steve. What's this all about?" Bucky asked, walking beside Steve while they were on a mission together. This may have been the worst time for Bucky to bring this up, considering Steve was focused on nothing less and nothing more than his mission. He thought of you a lot, sure, but not during times like these.

    "What's what all about?" Steve replied gruffly, mindlessly elbowing some approaching Hydra member off the ship they were infiltrating, the sound of splashing water resonating in the distance.

    "You know," Bucky grunted, sweep kicking another member and sending him flying.

The two of them often talked to each other side by side on missions, so disciplined and highly skilled that they could easily do both at once, but not about things like this, and not conversations that required much more attention. Bucky continued,

    "You've been all sad lately."

Steve sighed and shook his head, latching his shield back onto his back,

    "Is that what we're going to be talking about?"

    "Are you gonna answer me?" Bucky raised his brows, cocking the gun he had tucked under his arm and firing ahead of him.

    "Can't really talk right now, Buck," Steve grunted, preparing himself for what was ahead.

    "I think I know what it is!" Bucky exclaimed, jumping away from Steve as he took on a combatant in front of him, Steve doing the same.

     "Please, enlighten me!" Steve called out sarcastically, going hand to hand with another guy, flinging his shield out in front of him.

    Bucky aimed a kick at his guy's crotch, sending him flying to the floor, then standing over him and continuing to pummel him, all the while yelling over at Steve.

     "You think you don't have anyone to talk to about how you're feeling so you're isolating yourself! I know you. It's a very Steve thing to do!"

Steve sighed, shaking his head. He wasn't too keen on having this conversation at all, but especially not now. But he knew once Bucky got started, there was no stopping it. Even in the midst of a fight, in the midst of a mission. But Bucky wasn't entirely wrong, and that was the dangerous part about it - Steve knew Bucky could figure him out if he really set his mind to it. And he was constantly being reminded how much other people knew him, whether it was you, Natasha, or Bucky.

     He may have masked himself as un-phased and even tempered, but anyone could see past that now. Natasha had been close to figuring out just what was going on, and although she was one of the smarter Avengers, who could figure anybody out, Bucky and Steve were the closest of friends, twin flames. Steve knew Bucky would have him figured out in a minute, and he was getting dangerously close.

     "Buck, not now!" he had to at least try.

     "You still talking to that girl?" Bucky ignored Steve's pleas and continued - he had came to his own conclusion, putting together the pieces.

     Steve sighed again, kneeling down on the floor and hanging his head. His silence, his lack of a response, told Bucky all he needed to know. He was in his head, thinking about you, something he never did on a mission. He was thinking of how before this, you were one of the people he actually talked to to cope, even though he didn't delve too deep into his personal problems. But still, you had been there.

     And now that you weren't, he was thinking of all the reasons why you weren't, almost all of them rooted in his own silly fear. The fear he'd been letting go for weeks until you asked him that question. Before you opened up to him to that extent.

     Bucky got up, dusting his hands off. Both him and Steve had knocked their guys clean. Bucky signaled into his ear piece that the coast was clear and they were leaving the building, before heading over to walk next to Steve. Bucky had a sort of victorious smile on his face, knowing he had cracked the code.

       Steve had been withdrawn before you, then excitingly different when you came around. It would make sense that he'd be withdrawn without you again. Especially if things had ended harshly. Since Bucky was the only one who knew about the connection Steve felt he had with Moonrose, it was easier for him to guess. The others might have known that Steve was using the site, but Steve made sure they didn't know all the specifics.

     Although, Bucky did. And he wanted to know just what was going on. He put his arm around Steve's shoulders as a way of letting him know he was there, and that he did have someone to talk to besides you.

     "You know, Steve, whatever happened, you've got me. You've got all of us."

Steve shook his head and looked down at the ground, mustering a small smile that was one of the more genuine smiles he'd shown in the past few weeks,

     "I know."

     "Then why didn't you talk to any of us? You've been like a hermit for the past month almost," Bucky inquired.

     He wasn't attacking Steve, but he still had questions to ask. He wanted to have an honest conversation. He didn't want to have to sit back and watch as Steve alienated himself because he didn't know how to properly deal with his own issues. As an Avenger, it made both him and Steve look irresponsible. And as a friend, he physically couldn't watch any longer.

He didn't think he'd seen Steve so withdrawn, not even when his parents died, because Bucky forced his way in every chance he could get. When Steve was alone, things got dark. Bucky decided he'd be the one to actually help guide Steve out of it, by any means.

     Although, he was surprised that all this was caused by a girl who Steve hadn't even met. A girl who Steve had expressed his worries about to Bucky. It seemed as though Steve wouldn't let things get this far or impact him this much. He had been so quick to deny Bucky when he asked if there was anything more there, and maybe it was because it scared him to think about because it was true. Was it expected, though? Not entirely.

     "I didn't just want to air this out to everyone. It felt like something I shouldn't be doing, not in the position I'm in... I didn't want to disappoint people. And I feel like I have just by acting like this, even though they don't know why I've been this way. It's bad, I know, and I feel stupid for it. It's embarrassing to feel like this. Like... like I don't know any better," Steve replied, and Bucky understood, nodding.

      "I get it. It's like, why would boss man have some strange attachment to a naked stranger?" Bucky responded, not realizing how crude he sounded, making Steve glare over at him with his brows knit together.

      "Well, especially when you put it like that, Buck," Steve said, but he couldn't help but chuckle.

     "Sorry," Bucky smiled, shaking his head. A beat, then he continued. "So you've stopped talking to this girl. For what reason?"

     "I was afraid. It just... got too serious. And I guess it shows, because I've been acting like this as a result," Steve laughed bitterly. "I can't say I expected this to be the result. I think it hurts, but I've really been acting this way because..."

     Steve took a deep breath. It felt like a lot to express his feelings or emotions on any given day, but especially when it came to this. He had been keeping nearly everything associated with you to himself. It felt like such a big deal to express something out loud when he had intentionally been keeping it extra personal. Even if it was Bucky. It felt like something so close to him - he still felt slightly idiotic for the entire ordeal.

    He continued,

     "I guess because I've been trying hard not to think about her as much as my mind does when I'm not distracted. So I have to keep to myself and do work so that I'm not thinking about it as much. And I guess in the process I just neglected my own self care."

    Bucky nodded with a hum of assurance.

     "Mm. Well you're right. Maybe it did go too far. But that can't always be a bad thing."

    Steve cocked his head,

     "What do you mean?"

     "I mean, it's like me and Nat. No one would've trusted us years ago, but here we are now. On this incredibly elite team, fighting injustice with the best of them. I get it, you have to be safe, you can't let strangers get too close, you can't just do anything. But that doesn't mean you have to be so afraid all the time. You care about her. I knew that the minute you asked me about her. Because if it wasn't destined to end up this way, you would've never said a thing. You're good at keeping things to yourself, Rogers. The fact that you even asked me for advice on this, all those weeks ago. It says something. And maybe this all means that not only can you not stay away -  but that maybe... you shouldn't."

♡ ♡ ♡ 

    You hadn't been out out in a long time. You had been using the past three or more weeks to focus on yourself, to fully heal and regenerate and learn to cope. This was your therapeutic week, your week of release.

     But now, you were going out. You made an effort to look extra cute, because it had been a while since you got all dolled up. You couldn't be out super late, you still had a show later tonight, but you'd go out and enjoy a few drinks with friends. You were also going to be meeting new people, which was something you didn't do regardless of your emotional situation, unless it was for work - but those were colleagues.

    These were people who were potential friends, and potential lovers. But you couldn't have made it more clear to Aaliyah, who was tying this all together:

     "I'm not looking for a relationship right now! You know that!" you exclaimed, shaking your head, but she just smirked at you, and pulled the straps of your dress tighter as you both walked into the bar where you would be meeting some friends and new people tonight.

     "Mhm," Aaliyah said dismissively, slinging her arm around your shoulders. "That doesn't mean you can't meet someone and you know..."

     "Aht aht," you chuckled, though you appreciated her vigor. "I don't do random hookups unless it's online."

    Both of you cackled at that, but it was true. You were very put together and determined, especially when it came to actual relationships. Your sex life outside of your job on the internet was sort of quiet at the moment, and you liked it that way. You enjoyed sex and the sensual, pleasurable and freeing feeling that came with having sex in real life, or performing sexual acts on the internet for money. But it wasn't everything to you, you still navigated the world like any human would, except maybe you were hyper aware of your mindfulness, even more than people with conventional jobs.

You didn't let just anybody in, emotionally or physically, not when it came to real life. Though maybe Aaliyah had a little bit of a point. Not wanting a relationship didn't mean you couldn't have fun. You wouldn't force it though. If it were meant to be, it would be.

Tonight, you were going to be watching a local band play, sitting at a table in the audience with some friends, ordering drinks and just having a good time together. You were excited - it felt good to get out, good to be back on your feet. You were getting the normality back into your life, and you were enjoying it, as well as the healing process that came with it - no toxic ex, no hardships with school... when it came to Steve, you still missed him. But it didn't interrupt your ability to function, not anymore. You weren't quite preoccupied with him in this moment.

You were glad to be sitting down with friends, and meeting new people as well. It felt almost strange - you felt out of the loop, like you were getting back onto the scene for the first time in years, when it hadn't even been that long. You figured it was just the fact that there had been such an intense shift, and you had matured so much in just less than a month. You felt excited for the endless possibilities.

The bar was dimly lit, the band was tuning their instruments, drinks were going around, everyone seemed to be in a good, vivacious mood. It was very lively in a way you could appreciate, because you liked the spontaneity and eventfulness of life just like you enjoyed the organized, pragmatic parts of life that you endured in all of your careers and your lifestyle. You liked to have fun, there was no doubt about that. It was just a matter of when you had time for it.

As you sat down at the table, reunions and introductions went all around. Everyone was friendly, and everyone was a college student. You were excited to be with this specific group of people, full of friends and new faces. But there was one new face that truly intrigued you, belonging to a ridiculously attractive guy with a rockabilly quiff and a strand of hair styled at the front, a knowing look in his deep brown eyes. He didn't have to say he was cool, the oversized leather jacket he wore practically spelled that out.

     He leaned across the table to shake your hand, his eyes sparkling when he looked at you, his smile bright and charming,

       "Hey. I'm Alex. It's nice to meet you."

It must have shown on your face how immediately taken you were - he was hot and the energy he emanated was good, and purely sensual. Aaliyah took notice, smirking over at you and watching as you took his hand. You blinked, and smiled. He felt it, you felt it. There was no use in hiding it.  You thought about how much you insisted to Aaliyah that you weren't looking to hook up - but this one guy may have changed your mind, just by his smile.

     "I'm YN. Nice to meet you too."

Even as he let go of your hand and sat back in his chair, he didn't break eye contact with you, a small, playful smirk on his lips. But two could play at that game. Your job, doing what you did, made you ten times more confident than the average person. Just because you weren't on the dating scene didn't mean you didn't know how to flirt.

    And just because you weren't interested in dating didn't mean you couldn't get to know someone in a different sense of the word. Just from looking into his eyes, reading the smirk on his smooth lips, you knew you would definitely be getting to know him tonight. With no strings attached.

| | |

     "You smoke?" you asked Alex, standing in front of him outside the bar as he lit a cigarette. You were both standing in the alleyway beside the bar.

The both of you had ended up here, not completely on purpose, but Alex couldn't say he didn't notice when you excused yourself so that you could make a call to confirm another therapy appointment. You ended up out there for longer than intended as you started scrolling on your phone. But it was Alex who kept you out there, the night sky starry and clear above you. It was quiet, except for the faint sound of indie rock music coming from inside the bar. But it was a calming, comforting atmosphere. It felt like it was just the two of you, and in a sense, it really was.

     "Yeah," Alex smiled almost shyly, unsure how you might approach that. People usually turned up their noses.

You in particular didn't see cigarette smoking as your idea of a good time- recreational marijuana, in moderation. You only ever really drank or smoked socially, but sometimes you could have a lot of fun drinking wine alone. In the heat of the moment though, it wasn't a very big deal to you. That was the other thing about you - you were spontaneous but well balanced, and let people live their lives how they wanted to, even if they were living just a bit on the edge. You knew people definitely would have choice words for your own lifestyle, and that just made you more open minded.

     "Hmm," you hummed, simply thinking to yourself and nodding.

Alex shifted slightly, as if he were unsure of himself, but took a drag anyway.

      "Nasty habit, I'm sure."

     "Can I try?" you asked, leaning up against the brick wall behind you, and gazing up at him.

Looking into your eyes, he could see the glint of innocence and anticipation there, but there was something more- this sort of hot and flashy desire. The chemistry in your simple introduction was undoubtable, and it led you both to think there could be something else. But if there was, there was already an unspoken agreement in Alex's smirk and your smile - whatever it was would be purely physical.

You were too deep into your process of healing to fully put yourself out there, to even want to share yourself with another. Ever since your last relationship, you weren't looking for any one - no one to be your baby, no one to depend on, and no one who depended on you. You didn't want that. But this, whatever it was, was just a little bit of fun. You only ever really engaged in this kind of banter on the internet. It was about time you got a taste of it in real life.

Alex raised his brows at you, surprised. You didn't strike him as the type, and honestly, you didn't strike yourself as the type, either. You were just going with the flow. He just glanced at you and cocked his head to the side,

     "I don't know if you really want to do that."

     "What makes you say that?" you challenged, quirking your eyebrow quizzically, and tilting your head up at him. He wasn't wrong though - you almost immediately questioned why you asked if you could try.

     "You don't strike me as the type. And you're a very pretty girl," Alex eased closer to you, and you felt his rough, wide hand against your cheek, caressing gently as he looked down at you, looking intently into your eyes. You felt his thumb against your cheek, running against your soft skin in smooth, slow circles, and you couldn't help but grin devilishly at the sense of danger it gave you, the kind of danger you only found deep within layers of pleasure. He continued. "Wouldn't want your... skin to fall off."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his anti-cigarette warning, shaking your head and laughing quietly, him joining in. He couldn't ignore the brightness of your smile, how genuine it seemed, how much it struck him. For you, laughter felt like medicine right now, like it was pushing you through this transition phase you were in.

     "Really, is that what's gonna happen?" you smirked playfully, never looking away from him. He smiled, nodding,

      "Yeah, that's exactly what happens."

A beat of silence passed between of you, but the tension emanating between the two of you was louder than ever, pulling you to each other with a tantalizing magnetic force. You watched his lids flutter gently as his eyes traveled down to your lips, the thumb that had previously been on your cheek drifting to your lips, hands moving languidly against your skin. A shiver ran all through your body, resonating in your core, just at the feeling of his touch, and at the knowledge that eyes were on you.

Real, human eyes, eyes that you had summoned through the power of your divine sensuality. You could find these connections online, but in real life it was so electrifying, so genuine- almost like it had been with Steve, though he was the last thing on your mind right now.

     "Pretty girls have the nastiest habits," you blinked, letting him toy with your lips until you gently took his thumb in your mouth, wrapping your lips around it, all the while never breaking eye contact with him.

You knew exactly what you were doing, and you knew your intentions while you were doing it. They weren't anything good, but they weren't bad either.

Alex nearly shuddered, taking in a deep breath. You both had amazing sex appeal and an instant connection, but you were taking him for a ride that he didn't even expect. He nodded slowly, his eyelids heavy, watching your lips around his fingers.

     "Mm," he hummed.

He placed his hand on the wall above you as he towered over you. You felt covered by him, in a good way. He was all over you in the only way either of you wanted to be. His fingers left your lips and now held his cigarette. He leaned in and lifted your chin up, the cigarette smoke lifting up from his cigarette and swirling around your nose, just before he pressed his lips against yours.

    Your lips were hot against his, which were smoky and tasted like his own vice, an open mouthed kiss with nothing but passion and craving within the little space between your lips. The kiss lingered, his hands then beginning to travel all around you, not just your face, but your entire body. You felt his hands on your sides, traveling up your thighs, his body and his lips smashing into your own. There was nothing wholesome about it, and yet you couldn't help but want more.

You only pulled away, panting, to remind him of one thing,

     "You know this is it, right? I'm not looking for a relationship."

He shook his head, reattaching his lips to yours, breathlessly replying,

      "Me neither."

He couldn't care less for the clarifications - he was caught up in you, he just wanted more, in whatever way you would allow. It was quick and fast paced, that seemed to be the basis of your newly forged relationship. Not much thought went into your very needy motions, all abrupt and reckless.

But you pulled away again, placing a hand on his chest,

     "And we're not having sex."

     "Fine. That's fine. I just want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?" he asked, unable to keep his eyes from flickering between your eyes and your lips.

You smiled, nodding eagerly, sated by his needy disposition and the sexual prowess you had over him. He didn't even know the half of your nasty habits. In response, you cooed,

      "Yeah, you can kiss me."

♡ ♡ ♡ 

      Ever since the mission, it was both lucky and unfortunate for Steve that all he had left on his hands was time. All that time consumed him, and you were on his mind all through it. He also thought about what Bucky had to say. Bucky's words were a reminder that he couldn't let things consume him out of fear. It reminded Steve that while he was right to feel weary, he was right to trust, too. Trust was a big part of the Avengers Initiative.

     They all depended on it, and it took a lot of trust in individuals that no one else would probably ever take under their wing. But placing that trust in each other worked, and formed the greatest group of justice defenders on this earth. The people Steve considered his closest friends still had yet to gain true trust from some of the most important figures in the country. That didn't mean Steve trusted them any less.

      He'd had the revelation many times before, but he was having it again. The two of you had something- you had almost everything except for trust.

     It was a big leap he was taking, a big contrast from the way he felt beforehand. But he'd spent all his time thinking and worrying and letting fear and irrational darkness take over him for too long. It was time he took the matters that involved his feelings and personal health into his own hands. And to start, he had to take that big leap of faith.

      Was he making a stupid decision? Likely. But was it rash? No, it was the result of so much reflection and thought. It was like he took a look inside of himself and realized what he had to do. And even though this wouldn't solve the problem entirely, it was at least a start. A promise to himself and an apology to you. If this was how it was without you, then he didn't want it to feel that way ever again, by any means.

     You were more than the controversy of the relationship you had with him and the context surrounding that relationship. Loyalty was one of the most important qualities to Steve. He didn't want a friend if they weren't loyal, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized that you were a friend, no matter how much he tried to push away the legitimacy of the connection.

     Months ago, he would've never done this. On any conditions. But that was before he met you. So now, he was sitting in his room after a shower, falling back into the old routine. It was Friday. You'd be live in a few hours.

♡ ♡ ♡  

You came back home from the bar exhilarated, the touch of the man you'd been so close with lingering on your body, and in the best way you could imagine. You knew he wanted more physically, but you weren't at an emotional position where you could give it to him.

     And he had respected that, even though the yearning was so clear. The thrill of the moment felt like it would never dissipate. The spontaneity of the moment and the heat of it all reminded you how powerful you were.

     He had practically whined into your mouth for more. Sure, you had men online who would give up all their belongings for you, but it felt different when you were experiencing this with a man who you could touch, a man who you could genuinely feel that zing! feeling with just by looking at him.

     You weren't sure when you'd see him again, or if you ever would. And that was the beauty of the entire situation. You didn't feel like you had some type of emotional obligation to him, or like you would have to follow up. You could leave it at that and hold this moment in your heart guilt free. It didn't matter that you didn't know him well - all that mattered was that you still felt whole afterwards and not trapped, that it brought you just as much pleasure as it brought him. And it did. It was like your hot girl summer was starting early.

And you had enjoyed your night out, ending it on a positive note as you watched the bands close up. You filled Aaliyah in on your little detour with Alex. You came home so amped for your performance. This was the most excited you had been for a show since Steve left. You loved your work, but the knowledge that Steve would be watching or would be talking to you afterwards made your shows just a little better.

But now, Steve wasn't on your mind, and you couldn't even say Alex was either. So what was on your mind? Mainly the joie de vivre, the sudden burst of energy you felt after a night out, the invigorating feeling that you were returning to normalcy.

     So when you logged on that night, you were more than ready to give a show, not knowing that you were in for a big storm.

     Steve got the notification that you were on, but he decided to wait it out. He didn't necessarily want to watch the show because he wanted to talk to you. He didn't want to feel awkward, watching you perform overtly sexual acts when all he wanted to do was talk to you. This way you could talk alone. So he didn't watch the show, just waited until you were off. He did some things to occupy himself while he waited, leaving his screen for a moment.

       Your show went by smoothly. It was quick, and mainly full of interaction. You didn't do anything too crazy that night, except for parade around on screen in your lingerie and strike suggestive poses, and make conversation with your regulars as well as welcome new comers. You appreciated the simple life — no extra special connection with anyone made your life a lot easier, even though you had to say that special connection felt like a bonus. But this was nice. Just sitting and talking about the most mundane of things. Dry eyed, cute, and paid.

       You read a few comments as you prepared to finish. Almost everyone was talking about how happy you seemed, how you were glowing more than usual. You just chuckled as you read them, and thanked each commenter.

      "Okay guys!" you cooed into the camera, smiling and giving a three fingered wave as you prepared to sign off. "I'm gonna get going, but it was so great talking to each and every one of you. I hope you guys have a good night. Private sessions tomorrow!"

     You blew a kiss into the camera, and ended the show for that night. You would've logged off completely and gotten ready for bed had it not been for the notification you received, and boy did it grab your attention.

Grant Rogers would like to chat.

    You made a face, blinking as you looked at the screen. It had been about a month since you had last talked to Steve. You thought for sure he was a goner, and you had gotten accustomed to the fact a long time ago. You were surprised he was coming back to talk to you at all, though you were glad your reaction was solely surprise and confusion. You weren't reacting in a way that would send you into another spiral, and you also didn't expect yourself to.

    But you couldn't help but think of the odd circumstances that you had left on, and wonder if it was worth the stress of reconnecting.

    Fuck it, you thought. You'd been through so much. What was a little more? You had the skills you needed to react accordingly, to keep sight of who you were and who you were talking to. You could cope. So you pressed "accept."

    Again, you were met with a black screen. You weren't sure why some part of you expected anything else, but for some reason you had this little voice in you that was cheering to see what Steve looked like. You swallowed that voice down though, and listened to his own, which came after moments of an awkward silence.

    "Hi," Steve said, and you flushed at the sound of his voice, remembering the things it did to you, the way it made you feel — remembering the sound of his voice when he decided to cut things off.

Don't get emotional, you reminded yourself. It doesn't make sense.

     "... Hi," you replied, still confused, not able to hide your furrowed brows and slightly open mouth.

    "I know this is weird of me, and maybe even selfish..." Steve sighed, and in that sigh was his final decision. Even when he decided that he was going to go through with this, the whole time he waited for your show to be over, he went back and forth with himself.

Was this even a slightly plausible idea that he was going through with? He wondered. He had to reassure himself that it wasn't as dangerous as he had convinced himself it was, because you weren't dangerous, because he trusted you. As scary as it was to say. And lastly, what were the consequences?

     It wasn't like Bucky told him to do this, but his talk with Bucky made him realize that it was what he had to do. He didn't want anybody else taking the blame if there was a major fall. It was all on him, and the knowledge of that make him panic. Yet, not enough to stop.

So in that sigh, he was making that final decision to really follow through with it. He was already speaking, so he finished his thought, letting the weight lift off his chest.

      "But I felt like it was only right. We left off on a strange note, and that’s entirely my own fault. I want you to know that. I want you to know that I didn't mean to shut you down, and it's not about me, but I feel... terrible for letting that happen. I shouldn't have let you open up like that if I knew I wasn't even accepting what it was that we had. If I was going to be scared."

      You were starting to become worried, furrowing your brows as you gazed into the black screen ahead of you. It didn't make any sense, what he was saying. It was verging into the same kind of conversation that had made him uncomfortable. The kind of unnecessarily emotional conversation that neither of you were ready to have with each other.

    And you didn't know exactly what he was saying, but you had an idea. He was going back to try and reignite this connection, but it felt like he was overthinking it. Like he was about to blow things out of proportion. And for your own safety, you didn't want to let him.

    "Steve, I don't think-" you started, shaking your head as your face morphed into further confusion, but he cut you off.

    "Just... let me show you what I'm talking about."

    This conversation couldn't get anymore confusing. He was being so unnatural and cryptic, so randomly opening up to you. It scared you, and it didn't feel like the conversations you had with Steve before all this. You were rethinking everything, ready to just call it a night and take a break for a few days just so you could process what he was even saying and why he was coming back after nearly a month.

    It was irregular before, but in the way that you liked — irregular in the sense that you felt such a strong connection with a customer that you'd never felt before, irregular in the sense that you wanted to talk to him so often, irregular in the sense that it made you happy, but it didn't take up all your time. Now it was just strange. And you almost laughed at the way the universe seemed to be taunting you - of course right when you were feeling free, of course right when you were ridding yourself of your emotional baggage, taking your sexual freedom into your own hands, this would happen. It felt like a compromise right now, even if a part of you was happy to be hearing from him. 

    And then, a pause. The sound of shuffling. And then he turned his own camera on. And you weren't looking at a black screen anymore. Confusion, a blur in your mind — were you mistaking exactly who you were looking at? A brain hiccup, followed by clarity. An abrupt realization that you weren't mistaken.

    The sight in front of you when that camera turned on made you sit right up, your eyes nearly popping out of your head. There was no fucking way. It was some sort of sick joke. Because the man behind the camera simply could not be who you thought it was.

    "What. The. Fuck."

note: ummm!!!!

!!!

i told y’all it’d be getting crazyyyy

yes there will b a part six!!!

give me all of ur thoughts !!! gimme all of them !

will be adding tags in reblogs <3

[jalapeno-princess]

Angel of Mine

College Boyfriend Mark X Reader

Genre: FLUFFIEST OF FLUFF, Doting boyfriend Mark that we all deserve

Word Count: 4.5K

Summary: You and your boyfriend Mark are cuddled up in your bed watching a movie when you are reminded that you have an essay due in a couple of hours that you haven’t even started on. Before you can completely break down, your boyfriend comes to your rescue and offers to write your paper for you. It’s in the moments of watching him so focused, typing away at your laptop do you realize how lucky you are to have Mark as a boyfriend.

A/N: Hey guys! So it’s the beginning of midterms here in Hawaii and i’ve already cried seven times I am not kidding you I have two semesters left of college and this is the hardest it’s ever been. I wrote this imagine for shits and giggles; i’ve never had a boyfriend before (HAHAHAHA CRIES IN FILIPINO AND KOREAN) so I wouldn’t know if there are guys out there who are actually like this (If you are, God bless you) (and if your boyfriend is like this, MARRY HIM) I actually watched a tiktok post on instagram right after I finished this where this girl said she was doing her boyfriend’s homework because he was stressed or whatever and if that isn’t couple goals than I don’t know what is (btw I do not condone having someone else do your homework) (especially if you force them to do it because you don’t want to it’s your responsibility and your education, but if they offer...it’s a different story) (LOL) anyways, enough of me blabbering, please enjoy reading while I cry in a corner.

“Remind me how I got myself in this situation again?” Your boyfriend gave you a knowing look and you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a faint giggle at the sight of his furrowed brows.

“Because you love me.” He playfully rolled his eyes and continued typing away at your computer.

“Yeah, sometimes a little too much. But if I remember correctly, you promised to suck me off once I’m finished writing this damn thing, so don’t think I’m going to forget our agreement babe.”

To say you were a procrastinator would be the understatement of the year. Just a few hours ago, you and Mark were comfortably cuddled up together in bed while you both watched the live action version of Mulan. When your boyfriend excused himself to go use the bathroom, you decided to scroll through your Instagram while waiting.

After looking at a couple of posts from some of your friends and family, you were curious as to what everyone was doing and you found yourself going through some of their stories. Finals were less than two weeks away, so you were used to seeing your friends post pictures of them working their many assignments or studying for exams.

What you weren’t expecting to see was one of your classmate’s working on an essay for your English class that was apparently due in less than four hours. Only then did it hit you; you had yet to write the paper and it was worth 20% of your grade. For weeks, you told yourself you were going to start on it and when it was first assigned over two months ago, you thought you had all the time in the world.

Two months went by quicker than you could even fathom and you were frustrated with yourself for not writing it down on your calendar or completing it earlier. You practically ran over to your laptop and began looking up the rubric to see how your professor wanted you to write your essay and you could feel your heart sink to your stomach as soon as you read the requirements.

Mark was confused when he saw you no longer lying in the bed; the two of you decided to have a lazy day indoors and you’ve only left the bed twice to use the bathroom and to get something to snack on. This past week has been extremely rough on your mind and your body; so when you told Mark you had no intention on doing anything other than laying in bed and watching movies, he knew to trust your words.

“Baby, what are you doing?”

Your flustered expression only made him even more curious as to what could have happened in the few minutes he was in the bathroom for. You bit your bottom lip in frustration; knowing how Mark could be whenever it came to your education, you were afraid he was going to be upset once he found out you had only a few hours to write your essay. Since you were too much in shock to respond to him, he took matters in to his own hands and looked at your computer screen.

“Wait—I remember you mentioning this essay a couple of weeks ago—eight pages?! Six educational sources—and it’s due by 11:59 P.M. tonight—y/n what the hell?!”

This wasn’t the first time you waited till right before your assignment was due to start working on it. Matter a fact, most of your important assignments; research papers, group projects, essays and online tests were completed on the day they were due. Sometimes it was on purpose; you felt as if some of your best work were the ones you’d work on right before you were supposed to turn it in. You knew it had a lot to do with the fact that you felt pressured to do better knowing you had a time limit; but most of the time you were just lazy and didn’t want to do any work at all.

You and Mark knew about each and every single thing there is to know about one another. He knew of each and every beauty mark on your body and where it was located, he memorized all your aunt’s, uncle’s and cousin’s names, he knew the exact shade of blue that you claimed was your favorite color and he knew how you liked your tea in the morning.

The only thing he had no control over, was the way you handled your education. Mark thought the entire world of you; he believed you were the most hardworking, courageous, determined, generous and golden-hearted person he had the amazing pleasure of knowing. And he wasn’t being biased because you were his girlfriend, but you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen before. In his eyes, you were flawless; you could do no wrong—well; the only problem Mark really had whenever it came to you was the fact that you didn’t know how to prioritize your responsibilities.

After what happened to you right around the time you were introduced to one another, Mark would’ve thought that your mindset and outlook on how you managed everything going on in your life would change. He knew you were capable of great things; when you put your mind to it, you could finish any task that you were given and you were great with multitasking. Mark saw how much time, persistence and effort you would put in to your job or whenever you’d lend a hand to anyone who needed assistance; he admired your work ethic and how passionate you could get when it came to the people and things that you loved.

It was just harder for you to put time in to your essays, journals, blogs or reading the books your professors would assign. School was never something you ever really cared for; it wasn’t like you were really learning anything anyway. For years, you tried your best in being good at all subjects. You’d stay up studying for hours on end only to not retain any information that you learned and it wasn’t entirely your fault. The educational system was just fucked. In this generation, it isn’t even about learning anything; the main focus is turning in assignments on time.

The professors could give less of a shit whether or not you understand any of the material being taught. During your relationship, Mark tried his best to motivate you and even bribed you with food and kisses. He even offered to make flashcards for you if that meant you’d have an easier time studying, but nothing ever worked.

As much as he wanted you to be successful with your education, especially because he genuinely loved attending school, he knew not to force anything on you and making matters worse. This time was different though; this class was one you were already having a hard time with and this essay in particular would determine whether or not you pass or fail by the end of the semester. Your boyfriend tried his best to hide his disappointment, but it was only natural for him to be upset. Attending college was not cheap at all.

He was completely aware of the thousands of dollars you had to fund on your own because your parents weren’t able to help you financially as much as they wish they could. Since he was extremely supportive of you and each and every single one of your endeavors, he even helped pay for quite a bit of your tuition which you haven’t completely forgave him for, but you both showed him and told him on a daily basis how grateful you were that he did such a thing; and that he never fails to take care of you in ways you didn’t think you deserved.

A part of him wanted to continue his poor attempt at scolding you, but as soon as he saw tears building up at the brim of your eyelids, all his anger and frustration dissipated. If there was anything Mark hated, it was seeing you cry. The reason behind your tears didn’t matter; it just broke his heart knowing you were sad and right now, he pushed the idea of your procrastination to the back of his mind. He motioned for you to stand up and kissed both your cheeks to get rid of any trace of tears. Then, he pulled you in to his embrace and placed his chin on the top of your head before he comfortingly ran his hands up and down your back.

“I’m so sorry Mark—I’m sure you’re upset with me and you have every right to be—I’m so stupid—“ if this were under different circumstances, the cheeky pinch on your butt would’ve earned your boyfriend a punch to the shoulder, but you knew this was his way to stop you from degrading yourself. Before you could ever say anything negative about yourself, Mark would try and divert your attention away from bad mouthing yourself.

Although you and Mark were together for three years now and you knew he was the man you planned on spending the rest of your life with, there was an annoying voice in your head that would remind you almost every single day that you didn’t deserve him. He’s sacrificed so much for you and you knew it was because he loved you; but you never understood why. You weren’t anything special; sure, you loved him with every fiber of your being and you knew he was well aware of that. Yet, you knew he deserved so much more but there was no way you’d ever be able to let him go. Not when he was the one who saved your life all those years ago. The only person who meant anything to you.

As much as you loved your family and your friends, nobody could ever compare or mean as much to you. Nobody could ever be as important as Mark was. He was the only person you were sure you would die from heartbreak if you were to lose him. It was selfish of you to continue dragging him down with you and your toxic ways, but you needed Mark; you’d be nothing without him. He was your own personal guardian angel sent to change your life entirely for the better. He was the only good thing going for you and with the way he treated you as if you were the most fragile and rarest jewel in the world, you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

“You’re not stupid baby—a little irresponsible and careless, but not at all stupid. Hmph, I’ll tell you what, seeing as how I’m better when it comes to writing essays, let me handle it this time.”

“No, there’s no way in hell I’m going to let you do this assignment for me Mark, I’d rather take the F—“ the soft kiss he placed on the corner of your lips made it aware that Mark meant business. Whenever he’d say something, he meant it. However, you refused to allow him to work on something you kept pushing back for months. Your essay was your full responsibility and it wouldn’t be fair for your boyfriend to have to write something he didn’t benefit from in such a small amount of time. God, he really did love you.

“The more time you spend trying to talk me out of helping you when I already made my mind up, the less time I’ll have to work on this paper. I don’t want you stressing over this; you’re already so worn-out as it is. This’ll be a piece of cake babe—you just sit on the bed and look pretty while I get started.”

Mark had to be a figment of your imagination. There was no way someone as thoughtful, kind-hearted, selfless and caring as him could exist. Most people would groan at the idea of having to do more work and if it were anyone else, you were sure you would’ve gotten a completely different reaction. You were quick to pull him in to a tight hug and left multiple chaste kisses all across of his face.

“I love you—more than I can ever fathom in to words Mark Tuan. You don’t understand how much this means to me—I’ll do anything you ask of me. Ugh, I will never get over how amazing you are and I could never thank you enough for all that you do for me.” He cupped your cheek and placed a wet kiss on your jaw.

“Anything huh? Maybe you could do some loads of my laundry, but that’s pretty much it—oh. I um—maybe you could—ah never mind.” You looked at him in curiosity and giggled when you saw the apples of his cheeks grow pink with embarrassment. Whatever he was probably referring to had to be something he was shy about. Your boyfriend was the definition of an introvert and he had a hard time asking people questions or even favors; this sometimes also included you. If you wanted to know what was on his mind, you’d have to pry it out of him.

“What is it babe?” He gave you the most adorable shrug and nibbled on his bottom lip as he began to look everywhere around the room but at you.

“Don’t feel as if you have to do this for me, I really don’t expect anything from you, but I wouldn’t mind a blow job if you’re up for it later.” One thing you loved the most about Mark, was how gentle and awkward he would get whenever it came to initiating sex or insinuating that he wanted a sexual favor from you. It was cute, yet it also turned you on for some reason. Maybe it was because he’d act totally innocent and submissive since he never wanted you to feel uncomfortable and he preferred to take things at your pace; but once the two of you actually made love, his attitude would take a 360 degree turn.

Sex with Mark was your favorite past time; he could get very naughty and rough in bed, but he could also take things slow and sensually. It really depended on the mood, but your boyfriend was an extremely generous and passionate lover. He knew what you liked, what positions you enjoyed the most, how to lick, bite and suck on all your sensitive body parts in order to elicit any kind of needy reaction out of you. It really boggled your mind that someone like Mark—someone so perfect without a flaw at all actually existed and what was harder to believe was that you were the lucky girl who was extremely blessed to call him yours.

That was something you would never take for granted; nor did you think you would ever get used to having him in your life. You seductively made your way on to his lap and began leaving sloppy kisses against his nape. This beautiful man sitting in front of you was willing to do your homework in order to prevent you from having a mental breakdown. He was willing to sacrifice his time to work on an assignment that wasn’t his responsibility to take care of just so that you didn’t have to suffer. Honestly, what world war did you fight and win in your past life to be the one that receives Mark’s love every single day? Whatever it is that you did to be able to call Mark your boyfriend, you would do it again and again if it meant having him in each and every single lifetime.

“Fuck—babe—as good as that feels, I only have three hours—y/n—you know, I’m actually thinking about taking you on your offer—just settle for the F and I’ll get settled in between your pretty thighs—“ you couldn’t help but stifle back a giggle once you heard the soft whine fall from his lips after you got up from off his lap, but he was right. He was already doing your homework for you, the least you could do was sit on the side and prevent yourself from bothering him.

“Oh yeah—you’re definitely taking me down your throat as soon as I turn in this paper. Now do as I said and sit down on the bed. Your presence alone is such a distraction and fuck—I’ve been hard since this morning when you walked out in my shirt. Damnit y/n—I really want to have my way with you right now. Please use this experience for future reference. I can’t believe I’m being cockblocked by a research paper of all things.”

You watched as Mark quickly skimmed through the rubric; you knew your boyfriend wanted to make sure he understood the material before typing out a bunch of nonsense. The last thing he needed was to spend all this time and effort looking for resources, citing them and looking for both spelling and grammatical errors only to earn you a bad grade. If Mark wasn’t there and you just so happened to find out about the essay, you wouldn’t have even attempted to write anything.

Your mindset in college was that if it seemed impossible, you would just give up on it entirely. Mark’s mindset however, was more realistic and you wished you had the motivation and enthusiasm that seemed to live in his bloodstream. Watching him so focused as he typed away like nothing was such an inspiring sight. English was one of your boyfriend’s favorite subjects; he loved reading all kinds of books—from murder mystery to comics and romance novels, Mark always preferred reading over watching a movie or television shows.

But, if there was anything he enjoyed more than reading, it was writing. Normally, the day his professor would assign him an essay, proposal, research paper or journal entry was the same day he would complete it and turn it it. There had to be something wrong with him. What person in their right mind genuinely enjoyed writing thousands of words, making sure there weren’t any errors and that the paper in its entirety actually made sense? You knew not to bother him, but you couldn’t help staring at him in all his handsome glory. His brows were furrowed and he began biting his lip in concentration; you didn’t think it was possible for someone to look like a model straight from an ad or a magazine while typing out an English paper.

“Can I get you something to eat or drink babe?” He quickly shook his head in disagreement without even looking up—he was too focused in whatever it was he could be typing.

“I think I need a couple of kisses though, you know—to help me reenergize.” You playfully rolled your eyes at his cheeky request before getting up and placing a few soft kisses against his mouth.

“So how’s it coming out?” He scrunched his nose before giving you a slight shrug.

“If I’m being honest, this probably isn’t my best work, but I’m sure it’s fine. I’m almost done by the way—so I’ll have you look it over to make sure it’s to your liking and then you can turn it in. Maybe you should start preparing your gratuity and tie your hair up. Might as well take your pants off while you’re at it—ow! I’d be careful if I were you baby. I might just replace your name with mine and confuse the shit out of your professor—yeah, that’s what I thought. Now, be a good girl and return back to bed.”

As much as you wanted to continue messing around with him; only because you were enjoying how demanding he would get when he was under stress, you knew better than to distract him. You decided to find something else to occupy yourself with as Mark returned to typing profusely at your laptop. It was extremely fascinating how he didn’t even take a second to think about what to write. The words seemed to just flow out of his brain like it was the easiest thing in the world and you were growing envious of his ability to come out with such quality and detailed work in such a small amount of time.

Around twenty minutes later, Mark let out a sigh of relief and brought his hands behind his back—a sign that he was finally finished. He motioned for you to walk over to your desk and had you sit on his lap. Out of habit, he snaked his arms around your waist and placed his chin on your shoulder; wanting to be as close to you as possible.

“Ten pages, twelve sources and it’s only 9:15. Tell me what you think baby.”

Right as you finished reading just the first paragraph alone, you were at a loss for words. Even if you were to start writing this paper when you first received the assignment from your professor, you were sure nothing you could write would be at least half as amazing as this paper was. It wasn’t repetitive—nor did he use nonsense words or anything you were sure you probably would have added in. He put all his sources in alphabetical order and inserted page numbers at the bottom of each page.

You could see why Mark’s previous English professor had asked him on multiple occasions to be her TA. The word brilliant wasn’t even enough to describe the kind of student Mark was. For someone who never really cared about reading English papers; whether it was an assignment for class, or when you had to give constructive criticism on one of your fellow classmate’s work, you would always skim through their essays—but you found yourself reading each and every single word Mark had typed out. His essay had you hooked; it was one of those writings that you were sure anyone would actually enjoy having to read. How was he able to finish all of that so quickly? By the end of it, you were in tears and you didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt Mark giggle in to your neck.

“Why are you crying Bub? I don’t think what I’ve written is at all that depressing. I literally wrote about biodegradation and how to save the earth—“

You didn’t give him any chance to continue his explanation as you roughly smashed your lips against his. Mark did so many things for you on a daily basis. He didn’t have to say he loved you for you to know that he did—his actions spoke for him. Knowing how most guys could be, you were sure no boyfriend would waste his time completing an assignment, especially one so time consuming needed all your knowledge and effort—for his girlfriend.

College was rough on everyone; so to take on something you thought was extremely difficult in order to prevent you from stressing out more than you already were—it made tears fall from the brim of your eyelids. You continued your ministrations, licking his lips and bringing both the bottom and the top in between your teeth before sucking on his tongue. Feeling him hum in to your mouth sent warmth to your core. In your relationship, you were the more extroverted and talkative one. You could go on and on about any subject you were passionate about.

However, just like Mark; you were more about actions than words—mainly because you felt like there weren’t enough words in the English dictionary to actually form sentences that would describe just how much you loved Mark wholeheartedly and exactly what he meant to you. When you felt his excitement press up against your ass, you knew what was right about to happen; but you wanted him to know verbally how grateful you were for him before showing him physically.

“Fuck—how did you—what kind of drug are you on Mark? That was one of the best essays I’ve ever read. There’s no way my professor is going to believe I wrote that. This is honors worthy—you’re—I can’t even find a word good enough to describe you. Otherworldly? Wonderful? Perfect? I love you so much Mark. Fuck, do I love you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I don’t know what I did to have you in my life, but I would do it again and again to have you forever. I know you hate when I say this, but it’s the truth baby—I really don’t deserve you. Thank you, not just for typing this essay—fuck I still can’t even process this entire situation you need to sign up for scholarships or some shit you are so fucking intelligent and such a hardworking student. But—thank you for loving me. You really are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I am forever grateful for whoever it was that decided to bless me with you as my soulmate. I love you Mark Tuan.” His wide grin and the way he looked at you so adoringly made your heart melt.

“I’d do anything for you—you know that baby. It’s just—seeing you so distressed—so frustrated and unhappy with school, watching you overwork yourself to the bone—it fucking sucks. Especially when I see you beating yourself up over grades you have no control over. I know you try your best in every single thing that you do and I know that it’s easy to forget some important things and fall behind, but I will always be there to catch you—and to assure you that everything is going to be okay. You’re my person y/n—it’s my life duty to take care of you. However—don’t get used to this baby, as much as I love you—trust me—I love you with every breath I take and with every beat of my heart—but shit, that was rough. Oh—and I never want to hear you say you don’t deserve me ever again. You take care of me just as much as I take care of you. It’s a team effort babe. Now, with that being said, you caused a big problem in my pants over half an hour ago and I think it’s time that you solved it.”