#anyway i think them being complimentary is a v sweet detail :)

[chokedqwerty]

complimentary colors

[pondslime]

Jack and David for the Headcanons PLEASSEEEE

oh u have UNLOCKED the evil demented pandora's box of my brain. I'm about to be FULLY annoying. TYSM

below are 3 pros and cons of dating my Favorite Boys Ever™

sidenote: if we're talking canon CANON, the fact that both of them are VERY dead is the MAIN and only VALID con. IMO. but I digress!!! for the sake of this list, they are very alive and very smoochable

(under the cut bc DAMN can a bitch talk. and I do not want u all to have to scroll thru a WALL of text of me bein humina humina awooooooga abt my current hyperfixation 💀 ur welcome)

anyways!! this was incredibly fun and I have tmrrw off!! so feel free to send me a character of ur choice for headcanons and I'll give u 3 pros and 3 cons of dating them. if ur so inclined!!!!

jack

3 PROS

man is goofy. GOOFY. he is so intensely unserious. the banter (both flirty or otherise) will be IMMACULATE.

SOLID movie buddy energy. since he's the first one to bring up lon chaney jr./the pentangle on the wall, I like to think he's a hammer horror movie enthusiast. and since we know that the two of them have been friends at least since the 8th grade, I find the idea of these two little dorks staying up late and catching reruns of the movies...........SO cute. so v v cute. jack's little 12-year-old ass insisting that they CAN'T MISS frankenstein meets the wolfman. no, david!! u can't go tf to sleep!! we need the LORE!!!! so anyway. he'd show u a bunch of old horror movies and point out all the weird lil details to u. get ready 2 be mst3k-ing every film. man has cable tv and chill written ALL over him.

knows his way around nyc and WILL take u to a funky lil hole-in-the-wall restaurant that serves the best sandwich u have ever had. he might forget his wallet @ his apartment and end up paying for it w/loose change he has stuffed in his jacket pockets, but goddamn was that hot pastrami incredible.

3 CONS

he's 5'7'' (this is also a pro)

a little bit of a whiny bitch. will make a mountain out of a molehill. thrives on melodrama and hyperbole. but he's right 90% of the time, so as annoying as it might be. u can't fault him too much for that

used to being the comic relief friend. chronically friendzoned. probably going 2 be a bit annoying about that. it's kinda difficult to get him to snap out of sarcastic showboat-mode. sometimes that can make him seem a bit ingenuine and detached. mild to severe performance anxiety vibes. once u crest over that. he'll trade any nervousness for comical overconfidence and it'll be off to the races. but in the interim................................lmao

david

3 PROS

SWEET himbo boy. v affectionate and complimentary dude. clear w/his intentions and fairly emotionally open. v much so gives the vibes of a guy who claims to want to have 74873848 flings before settling down........but will immediately fall head-over-heels and want to introduce u to his family. golden retriever boy

canonically!! gives good head. need I say more

has a sense of adventure. likes challenging himself and breaking up the routine. outdoorsy. he probably likes hiking. did track or soccer or smthn in high school. his sheer enthusiasm for GOING OUTSIDE will force u to get ur ass off the damn couch. u love to see it.

3 CONS

v much BIG "first person to die in a traditional horror movie"-vibes. not the best at reading situations. will bamboozle himself into a bad scenario purely bc his street-smarts are sometimes lacking. kinda clueless. it's v hot but also v dumb of him. u would think that growing up in nyc would've tempered some of that. occasionally it does. occasionally. not enough tho.

possible mama's boy/golden child. even if this is NOT true, he still lives at home. which means there WILL be tomfoolery afoot if u stay over @ that house. and VERY little privacy!! get ready for his younger siblings to find the most inconvenient ways to interrupt ur time together. ur patience and mental fortitude will be tested. u will be living in a crash course parent trap/home alone-simulator. have fun!!

u know when u were a kid and ur mom would see someone she knew @ the grocery store and talk w/them for an eternity. and u would just be standing there and waiting for her to END her conversation so that u could LEAVE. yeah. david gives me big "endless conversations in grocery store"-energy. u run into a bodega @ 9 PM to grab some chips and soda w/him. but this is his stomping ground and he somehow manages to run into 3797432989 different ppl who know AND adore him. and they've all got to ask him about how school is going. what's he majoring in again? how's the family? do u still know blah blah blah from blah blah blah? and ur just standin there sipping ur coke. which is rapidly becoming more and more room temperature w/every sip. when will it end. he's been talking about his sixth grade biology class for the last ten minutes

BONUS AND MOST OBVIOUS PROS FOR BOTH OF 'EM:

fluffy hair (x2)

there's two of them. u can and SHOULD date both of them simultaneously. IDEAL throuple situation.

[hillywooddestiel]

The Retreat Chapter 17

Characters: CEO!Bucky x reader, Wanda, Natasha, Caroline (Ofc)

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language

Word Count: 2.2k

Description: Y/N Y/L/N: determined business woman, sought after by most businesses, creative visionary for advertising. She has it all. Or so she thinks. Life has a way of kicking you sideways when you least expect it, want it or are in anyway prepared for it. Numerous times. How can Y/N remain from cracking under the pressure when her career isn’t the only thing on the line and everything isn’t all that it seems?

A/N: Actually got the day right this time, well done me. This part is a super exciting one so you can imagine the drama already mwahaha. Go on, read it, it’ll all be fiiiiine xx Series Masterlist  Marvel Masterlist

Story:

I feel like a fancy socialite or something like that. My dress arrives at 12pm along with a small team of makeup artists and hair stylists for myself and Wanda- I wasn’t exaggerating when I said this benefit is a big deal. She squeals like a child being handed a lollipop at the sight of our own beauty crew. We welcome them into my apartment, far from ready in our dressing gowns and with our freshly washed hair in towels on our heads, offering soda and chips to them all. They get straight to work, styling my hair in a loose low bun with curled strands of hair hanging loose around my face and doing a classy makeup look on my face complete with a dark red lip to match my dress. Wanda looks stunning with a strategically messy side braid and golden eyes. With some help, we both get into our dresses and are ready for the benefit. The dress is even more beautiful than I remember, or maybe I just look the part now in it, and Wanda looks like an actual Disney princess in her gold satin dress. We’d better not keep our princes waiting.

“Oh my God, Y/N/N!”

“Wow!” Wanda and I stand open mouthed at the two black limousines parked outside my apartment building. A blacked out window rolls down to reveal Bucky with a wide grin and perfectly groomed hair. Like a true gentleman, he gets out to hold the door open for me.

“Vision is in the one behind for you, Wanda.” He smiles as I take his hand and slide inside. Wanda gives me a wide-eyed look of excitement before heading for her own ride.

“Well this sure is fancy.” I laugh as Bucky gets in next to me and places a quick kiss on my cheek before motioning to the driver to go.

“You look… stunning, Y/N.”

“Well thank you,” I smile shyly at the floor, “You clean up pretty well too.” “Thanks, I showered and everything.”

“For me? How sweet.”

“So… how do you want to do the little red carpet? People know that you’re my plus one but they don’t know you’re my date.” Bucky asks, his thumb moving back and forth over my knuckle and an intent look in his eyes. I’d love nothing more than to walk out with Bucky’s hand on my waist and answer ‘yes’ to when the interviewers ask if we’re an item. But is it too soon? Should that matter?

“What if we leave them guessing?”

“How so, doll?” a mischievous twinkle shines in his eyes.

“We just act like ourselves and when they ask, say nothing. It can be our little secret from everybody.”

“I like the sound of that…” Bucky sidles up closer to me, leaning in for a kiss. 

“Sir, we’re just pulling up outside now.” startled, we break apart as the driver announces our arrival from behind the dividing screen. I guess it’s showtime.

“Over here, Y/N!”

“Y/N, look this way!” photographers shout from all directions as flashes of light dazzle my eyes. I find myself disorientated and struggling to find where to go but Bucky is right there on my arm, guiding me along the carpet and all the way into the venue. 

“Mr Barnes! Mr Barnes!”

“Mr Barnes, are you dating again?” Reporters try to stop us and ask questions but we don’t stay around long enough to listen.

“You okay?” Bucky cups my face in one hand the moment we’re out of sight from everyone. Breathing heavily from nearly running in heels, I lean up and kiss his grinning lips.

“I’m good.” 

“What d'ya say we go find some champagne and join this party?” 

“I like the sound of that.” I turn and look to the bustling grand hall that is the location for the benefit this evening- it's decked out in lavish purple drapes and arrangements of orchids with many round tables for guests. So this is what it's like being a millionaire.

Wanda and Vis walk over to our table a few minutes after we sit down, taking complimentary champagne from a passing waiter and marvelling at the huge setting for our dinner this evening. It's odd seeing people from the office all dressed up and getting quite tipsy- especially Clint and Natasha over on the other side of the table sharing one chair. Seems like some people really don't shy away from PDA. 

“I thought that sort of thing was for after dinner.” Bucky leans in to whisper in my ear, fake innocently. I bite my lower lip to stifle my laughter causing Bucky to tighten his grip on my knee ever so slightly, “You're driving me crazy with that, doll.”

“Mr Barnes… I thought that sort of thing was meant for after dinner.” I giggle back into his ear. He's insatiable sometimes. Not that I'm complaining.

“You really do look beautiful tonight. Not that you don't normally look beautiful- you look amazing all the time- I just meant-”

“You're too sweet sometimes, you know.”

“I mean it.” He catches my eyes and hold my gaze, a mysterious look sparkling behind them. Is it too soon for the L word yet? I don't want to sound desperate.

“Ahem, Y/N?”

“Yes… Wanda! Hey, yes… what's up?” being pulled back down to earth is not a good feeling.

“I just thought I should point out that if you two want to stay a secret, you should probably leave the giggling until you're not surrounded by everyone you know. People are staring.” Oh God, I forgot- people. So far things have been quite innocent but people talk and speculate and spread gossip. People can't be trusted. Now is not the time for all of my colleagues, Bucky's entire staff, to find out about our relationship which is still in its infancy; how do you explain things if they don't work out. I hate to be cynical but the thoughts are always there. 

“Shit, she's right doll. We… we shouldn't. But later?”

“Definitely later.”

Avoiding the stares of disapproving colleagues, Wanda and I split from our dates for the evening to go to the open bar (which is heaving with people, wonder why). Yes, there are waiters weaving their way around the hall to serve tipsy guests bucketfuls of more champagne but if you want something other than overpriced fizzy wine you must make the journey to the much too small bar. And I want my trusty old friend red tonight. 

“So, you guys looked like you were getting pretty serious over there.” Wanda casually brings up me and Bucky when we finally make it to the bar.

“Not just yet Wanda, it's still early days.” I brush her off while trying to ignore the crush of people pushing into my back.

“So you're telling me that if he said the big l-o-v-e right here and now, you'd run for the hills?” Umm… No! I'd probably jump his bones and show him just how much I love him too. But she doesn't need to know the details.

“I… wouldn't be against it…”

“Really!?”

“Here you go, ladies.” The bartender slides one glass of red and another of white wine over to us with a clearly fake smile- who cares, we have wine now! 

“That's amazing, Y/N/N! You two are clearly in love with each other, why not make the leap of faith?” It's like she can see my thoughts. Quietly thinking of a response that isn't just a polite smile, I turn slowly back to the tables with my glass in hand only for a man to come stumbling backwards into me. Cold red alcohol splashes back at me, running down my chest and soaking into the bodice of my dress. Fan-fucking-tastic! 

“It's not coming off! Can you hand me another tissue?” I dab at the damp material of my dress like a mad person- I'm not even sure why, it's hardly visible. Red on red, how convenient? My dress is sticking to me and it's irritating, that's all.

“Here you go.” Wanda hands me a fresh tissue with an empathetic look. Luckily the wine didn't splash on her dress, it would've been completely ruined, so at least we have that small silver lining I guess. 

“Is it noticeable?” I turn with a sigh, my hands raised in a low effort ‘ta-da’ motion.

“To be quite honest, I can't even see it Y/N/N. You're good.” She smiles, surveying my dress once again. We've been in this bathroom a long time so I imagine Bucky will be wondering where I've got to, and Vis with Wanda- no one takes so long to get drinks even with the enormous queue. 

Feeling very self conscious of my dress, I make my way back to the table with Wanda by my side and probably no one watching me despite what my mind keeps telling me. By the time I take my seat, my dress is bone dry. 

“You two were gone a long time. Everything okay?” Natasha asks, visibly more happy from her inebriated state.

“Yeah, everything's fine. Where's Barnes?” I ask, looking around at his absence.

“He said he saw someone he knew and went to talk to them.” she waves her hand, reaching for her vodka martini with the other.

“Who?”

“He didn't say. He's been gone a while though.” 

“I'll go find him.” I jump right back out of my seat with a slight smile- maybe we can finally get some privacy even if it's just for a little while. I've no clue where to start looking for Bucky but the galleries seem as good a place as any to start. Scanning the crowd as I go, I make my way to the outer edge of the hall where the entrances to the gallery rooms lie without a handsome CEO in sight (well that's not strictly true, I did spot Steve with Peggy over on the dancefloor but you know what I mean). Now as an artist at heart, I'd love to stop and admire all of the wonderful artwork on display but I'm on a literal manhunt right now so maybe another time. Bucky, where have you gone? The galleries are all empty. Perhaps he's on the other side of the hall, in the alcoves. I weave through the throng of guests yet again to the plush seating areas in the alcoves. They're a little more populated than the galleries with couples getting cozy on the couches. There is still no sign of Bucky though. Where could he have gone? I've been searching for so long, I'm feeling the effects of the champagne wearing off! In a last ditch attempt to find him, I push past people to get to the peace garden in the quad area behind the hall; some fresh air might be nice.

It's pleasantly quiet outside with the live music muffled by the walls and the faint city cacophony providing an oddly peaceful atmosphere. I can hear someone talking though. A woman. She's shrill and whiny like many of the stuck up invited guests this evening. She could be the somebody that Bucky knows. I think I hear a man as well but it's hard to tell if it's Bucky with his lower register. Following the voices, I get close enough that a conversation becomes clear,

“Why are you here? How did you even get in?”

“Now now, can't a girl have secrets? I'm here to see you.”

“See me? I thought I made it pretty clear I didn't want to so I would appreciate it if you didn't follow me.”

“You came to me Bucky, not the other way around. You lead a girl to think all sorts of naughty things.”

“I brought you out here to tell you to leave without making a scene.” Bucky growls, quite annoyed now. I have a feeling I know who the woman could be, but my heart wishes that I didn't. Quietly now, I tiptoe towards the edge of the bushes to get a look at what is happening. Bucky is stood with his fingers raked through his hair and a stressed look on his face and none other than Caroline sitting pretty on the stone bench.

“I miss you JuJu. I'm sorry for what I did but I've changed, my darling, I'm a better person now.”

“Are you actually joking? It's been a few weeks since you were fucking another man at our engagement party and now you want to get back together. You're insane.” Bucky moves to storm away but Caroline grabs his hand.

“I love you JuJu, I was an idiot to leave you,” they take steps closer to each other, eyes locked, “I want you…”

“Caroline-”

“Shh! You don't have to talk.” She silences him with a finger to his lips. Then she leans forward and I swear her eyes briefly flit to mine before she pulls Bucky into a kiss. A passionate kiss. Pull away for god's sake! Bucky! He kisses her back with as much need, a moan escaping his captured lips.

“Caroline…” I've seen enough. Hot tears burning my eyes, I back away from the bushes and run for the exit.

[thelioninmybed]

So putting canon!Mae in a room with dwmp!Mae results in insults and assault (unless intervention by Fingon), but how would canon!Fingon react? My main thought is a) look at the cute tiny, or b) sadness over the past/feelings of protectiveness. Of course I figure any Fingon upon meeting a copy of himself would go for the sex option, potentially including any Mae's that also happened to be nearby.

@imindhowwelayinjune , @emilyenrose and I have discussed this AU in exhaustive detail and luckily this was one of the subjects covered!

Emily: ok so when the powers in charge of universe hopping decide to bring the canon nolofinweans over it takes about five minutes for fingon to realise that he actually hates king fingon. He would still make out with him, don't get him wrong, but - like, at least canon mae has the decency to be kind of fucked up about all the violence and murder in his life. King fingon is actually, in fingon's opinion, scarier. Who is this happy about killing things?

also fingon is freaked out by how violent his alt selfs sex with alt mae is

also! why hasn't he taken better care of alt mae! look what a mess canon maedhros is, what has other fingon been DOING....

Lion:  “Dying!” says canon fingon cheerfully

Emily: also he's cross that king fingon is kind of better than him at basically everything. they go jogging together, canon fingon patronisingly slows himself down

Lion: On your left

Emily: later he steals fingon's old guitar, tunes it, and proceeds to play agonisingly beautifully? and sing? and not only is canon mae entranced, so is hipster mae. fingon hates this guy

Lion: Awwww shit hipster Mae doesn't stand a chance

Emily: right tbh most of fingon's hatred is poorly concealed jealousy. He's used to being the centre of the universe for his maedhros. He still IS, of course, but this is the closest mae has come to having a crush on someone not fingon... ever

Lion: Also no more opportunities for threesomes cause canon Mae is too busy staring/crying

Emily: hahahaha

also! he hates how king fingon looks at hipster mae! (king fingon is seeing a maedhros who isn't in pain)(and it's. it's nice to see.)(he still loves canon mae best, ofc, but look at this hipster who is okay)

anyway those are my two fingons thoughts. you'll have to ask june how the foursome goes

Lion: King Fingon logically proposes a foursome and shockingly it's the other fingon that objects. He KNOWS king Fingon would be better at sex. And get to fuck his boyfriend AND not his boyfriend and what if his Mae likes him better?

Emily: fingon handles insecurity extra badly because it's literally never happened to him before 

Emily: still thinking about king fingon. poor hipster mae. two fingons is an overwhelming number of fingons to have. canon mae isn't doing much better but he hides it well.

Lion: I am extremely impressed at his acting ability. Or, rather, ability to shut down all his emotions and never feel anything ever

Emily: king fingon still notices but instead joins in gently making fun of hipster mae instead. canon mae knows it's really about making fun of him

Lion: King Fingon has (sadly) a lot of experience interpreting this bullshit and drawing him out of it

June: I am rather annoyed with King fingon, have some respect for your sweet modern self, he has been taking care of two Mae's!

Lion: Right, even one is a lot of effort

June: (what if the irony is that king fingon totally does see that, and it makes him a little sad to see how gently modern fingon cares for both maes - and is allowed to! - and honestly, honestly, feels like he's not 100% needed) (he doesn't mean to show off, but kinging comes with a lot of arrogance that he's forgotten to change the dial on) (after all he was dead until recently)(so both fingons are a little insecure of the other because SURPRISE both of them fear being unneeded)... 

Lion: Doesn't the fact that canon Mae has latched onto him like a v. pointy limpet clue him in? Or is canon mae convinced he Doesn't Deserve to interact with Fingon and is thus hiding under the bed or some shit

June:  Everyone is profoundly overstimulated, it's a mess. I feel like canon Mae is really needing to hit the bottle to deal with all these emotions. But instead modern fingon just gets him and canon fingon a hotel room

Lion: oh no, how will he practice avoidance now

June: Hipster Mae finds out ironic that NOW fingon is like hmm isn't it time for them to go back to their place yet?... Also can they? If they go back, Maedhros loses his fingon again :(

Lion: also all that awaits them is horrible horrible war and death. The oath tho

Emily: no i decided based on the orome ficlet that this is all some huge cosmic prank by eru. they've actually all been dead for ages and they've just had their memories fucked around with a bit, they don't have to go back!

Lion: what about the oath???

June: Considered legally void. Does not apply in New England

Emily: WHAT JUNE SAID 'not even a thing, you idiots' - eru

June: Maedhros is .2 of a lawyer, he concurs

Emily: or: eru decided to interpret 'darkness eternal' as 'you have to live with yourself'

June: Hahaha

Emily: ‘but yourself wears pants with HOTASS on the ass'

June: And what did the poor innocent modernites do to deserve such a thing 'all good stuff, clearly' -celegorm

Emily: lol king fingon and murder elf mae in a hotel room. fingon makes sure it's nice. a nice hotel room. complimentary scented soap.

Lion: (it is a hint)

Emily: a jacuzzi setting on the bathtub

Lion: (do something about the gore, mae)

Emily: do you think gondolin was like this

June: Asks fingon. He is still a bit resentful 

Lion: Ecthelion def. had jacuzzis like, it was his job description

June: Glorfindel misused them a lot 'that is a BACK massager' says ecthelion, averting his eyes 'this is my back' says glorfindel. 'adjacent'

Lion: boys

Emily: (consider hipster mae taking care of king fingon like dwmp fingon takes care of canon mae tho)(sorry to be stuck on otp feels. but: if canon mae is startled by surprise biscuits, it is nothing to how much calm fingon is startled by casual affection

June: Or light humor. No gallows involved. Nicknamification. Like. 75% less guilt? He corners himself HOW he asks WHAT DID YOU DO

hipster Mae is offended for a second but then is like yeah, he really is responsible for much of this

Lion: No shut up hipster Mae, you'll make him wonder what he fucked up that the other version didn't

June: .... Fingon already wonders that

Lion: I mean, the answer is that being supportive is much easier when you're dealing with poor career prospects and an overbearing father, as opposed to satan torturing you and killing all your family...and an overbearing father

June: T b h

Lion: also Therapy Exists now

June: canon fingon thinks therapy sounds like a nice name for a child

Lion: lies, it doesn't have Fin in it anywhere

June: Maybe an epesse then

Lion: Oooh yeah, that's good

June: 'this is our child, its prophetic name is Better Adjusted Than Us, Please'

Lion: They can ask Maglor if he's got any spare babs. Being confronted with dwmp Fingon is probably a shock for King Fingon, he thought he was well adjusted? It is an easy mistake to make when your boyfriend is an orc

June: Eru is fucking cackling. This was such a good idea

Lion: at least, after the confusing wobble that was Fingon being attracted to canon Mae and then to canon Fingon and Maedhros being ???, now they can be reassured by how stable their relationship is

June: Imagine them lying in bed sort of trying to catch up after all the madness - their canon selves are off destroying a Comfort Inn - and just turning on their sides to look at each other in the dark. Touching hands very lightly. Not saying anything but both experiencing the same feeling of total gratitude

'i lo-' begins Maedhros, and fingon kisses him.

'thanks for being you' he says, and it's all Mae needs to hear.

[coffeeshopreads]

SO GOOD Chapter reveal

Coming August 7th

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On the roof of a house outside Truelove, Maine, master carpenter Max Doyle looks down through a skylight and sees the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. She’s naked, she’s gorgeous, and everything about her is perfect, down to the ball-busting tattoo of a rose that wraps around her hip. But it isn’t just any woman making his knees buckle. It’s his best friend, Rosie Madden. And as he stands there, mesmerized and precariously close to toppling off the roof, he knows he’ll never, ever be able to look at her the same way again. Rosie can’t help but notice that Max is suddenly acting very strange—lots of long stares, totally tongue-tied, and not at all like the slightly cocky hunk she’s proud to call her best friend. She can’t figure it out, until later that night when Max rescues her from the world’s worst date, challenges her to a game of pool, and shows her just exactly what she’s got him thinking about. Repeatedly. But life is complicated. Rosie’s cat, Julia Caesar, wants to eat Max’s dog Cupcake for an afternoon snack. A dream job threatens to pull them apart. And another glance through the skylight changes everything, one more time. Yet try as they might, they can’t go back to being just friends, because falling in love with the one you’ve always adored? It feels so good.

1Max I wasn’t planning to see her naked—I swear to God, I wasn’t. The day was a scorcher, one of those godforsaken New England summer days that makes a guy wonder how he ever said fuck you to winter. I stood on the roof her house, three stories above the Maine woods, with a far-off view of the ocean. It was pretty, yeah, like the kind of shit real estate companies put on complimentary calendars. But in that heat, it was like standing on top of a goddamned toaster, turned all the way to burnt. I could feel that shit in my socks, straight through my work boots. At my feet was a stack of shake shingles, old school, to replace the ones that were missing. Her house had a few slow leaks, and one over her bathroom that made the ceiling look like a huge Rorschach test. She said it definitely looked like a rose in bloom, I said it definitely looked like Batman. But I told her hidden meanings wouldn’t make shit for difference when the ceiling collapsed into the tub, so there I was. Fucking miserable work, but I was glad to do it. Glad to do anything for her—anything she needed at all.In the forest on every side around the cottage, the cicadas screeched. It sounded like a needle squeaking off a record player. I knelt down by the stack of shingles, using my utility knife to score a line through one to fit a nearby gap. I snapped it with my hands and tossed the scrap end off the edge of the roof. A trickle of sweat ran down my forehead, and I wiped my face with my forearm. One droplet got away, sparkling in the sun. It caught my eye, and I watched it fall, as it landed on the skylight window with a splat.​And that was when it happened. Boom.​There she was, right under me. She couldn’t have been more than six feet away, but she felt even closer. I had a direct line of sight down into her gorgeous, soft cleavage, bright and pure in the sunshine. Maybe it was the heat, or maybe it was the surprise of seeing her, but at first I didn’t really process that it was Rosie at all. My dude brain said, I want that woman.​Then my regular brain said, Don’t be an asshole, man. It’s Rosie. Have some respect.Respect I definitely had, but of course I’d thought about seeing her naked before. She was so fucking beautiful that any man would have thought about it. Sometimes, like right then looking down into her dress, I couldn’t fucking help it. Sometimes we’d be out doing something ordinary, like eating dinner, or I’d be changing her oil, or she’d be teaching me to do shit I should have learned at some point in the last 34 years, like iron a dress shirt without screwing up the collar, and I’d catch myself watching her cleavage rise and fall as she breathed, or thinking how nice her legs were, and I’d think, Holy hell.Now she was directly underneath the skylight. The angle of the sun cast my shadow down the roofline, away from the skylight, so I didn’t give myself away. Like that, I watched her. I gave in to my dude brain and just took her in. Her light brown hair glinted, and a beam of light caught the curve of her shoulder.That was when the goddamned striptease started, beginning with the left strap of her sundress.Her movements were graceful, sexy, sassy—the sway of her hips, the shake of her shoulders. I realized I might be in real fucking trouble, because I loved that sexy sass. It wasn’t normal Rosie-cute. It was naughty, like nothing I’d ever seen her do before. I liked it so much, I couldn’t look away. She shimmied out of her sundress, and it fell to the floor in a pool at her feet. No big deal, I tried to tell myself. I’d seen her in her bikini a thousand times. This was no different from that.Except it was, because then she reached around to undo her bra. Before I could tell myself Don’t look, dude. It’s Rosie, don’t look, it was too fucking late. The straps slid down off her shoulders, and for one perfect second got caught on her nipples, swinging in the air before falling to the floor.Holy…I pressed my clenched fist to my mouth and groaned into my hand. All my blood was leaving my head. The roofline was getting wobbly.It wasn’t like I didn’t know her curves; we’d spent whole summers on the beach—I knew her shape and her softness, I knew her lines and her freckles. Every curve of Rosie Madden was sacred in my book. Fucking douchebags on the beach giving her eyes had to answer to me and my eyes, right behind her. She did that to me—I was one punch away from defending her honor, always. But this? This was different. Seeing your best friend in a bikini at a clam bake is one thing. Protecting your best friend from assholes with wandering eyes is part of the guy-girl best friend creed. But seeing your best friend, absolutely naked in her bedroom, without knowing she can see you? That was a different deal.…Shit.Part of me knew I should keep my eyes off of her. She thought she was in private, I had no business spying. Anyway, I didn’t want to be that guy. I hated that guy. But the other part of me, fuck. The other part of me was nothing but want.Then she bent at the hips, and time slowed down, like some kind of stop-motion Jackie Chan kung fu sequence. All the cicadas went silent, at least in my head they did. The wind stopped blowing through the trees. It was just her, and her perfection, in the sunshine underneath me. I felt like I was on one of those glass-bottomed boats, looking at a world I never knew existed.She tossed her bra aside, and it landed on her neatly made bed. She shimmied out of her panties, shaking her ass as she did. I growled into my fist, and that’s when I went down into a crouch.Because as she shimmied I saw it in a V above her ass. My kryptonite. A skimpy thong.All these years, all these decades, I’d had her pegged for cute cotton panties—pastel polka dots, thin stripes, shit that was sweet and sensible. But I was so fucking wrong. Black. Strappy. Tiny. Not sensible at all. Now it was in a rolled-up ball at her ankles. Using her toes, she plucked her panties from the floor, and caught them on one finger.Fucking A.She was completely naked, not a thread on her. Every thought I’d ever had got sucked out of my brain, like dishwater down the sink drain. What was left was only one true thing, and it wasn’t about her ass, or her skin, or her breasts. It was the one thing I think I’d always known but never let myself feel. Until that moment.She is the most beautiful woman in the world.Part of the reason I thought that was, yeah, obviously, she was fucking stunning, every inch of her straight out of a dream. Not just my dream, either. Guys would slow down on Main Street to give her the elevator stare, and I’d quietly crack my knuckles and give them don’t-you-fucking-dare stares. But the other part, the part that wasn’t in my gut but that was in my heart, was that I fucking adored her. Adored her so hard it hurt.She crouched down to pick up her dress, lifting the delicate straps with her small, sweet fingers. She pivoted, so I had a view of her other side of her body for the first time. There it was.The tattoo.I groaned again. I wasn’t prepared for this shit; three stories up, that body was dangerous. It was a rose tattoo, snaking around her hip, on the milk-white skin that was always under her bikini bottoms. The part of her I’d never seen. It was serious ink, real art, not some namby-pamby temporary tattoo or some amateur shit she might’ve gotten in an hour at a tattoo parlor on a dare on a cruise to Puerto Rico. It was complicated, detailed, and artful. Multiple visits to some tattoo artist, touching that creamy skin—goddamn.It took every fucking ounce of strength I had, but I did manage to look away. I felt as disoriented as if I’d been sucker punched. Not cotton—lace. Not cute—hot. Not my friend—my fucking fantasy.She was so important to me, such an integral part of my world, that I’d never let myself think of her as more than what she was. She was like running water, or electricity, or the sunshine itself. She was one of those things that was perfect exactly as it was, and one of those things only an idiot would want to change. I never looked at her and thought, I wish I could have more of her than I do already. That would be like thinking, I wish I could turn that cold glass of water into a swimming pool. Or, I wish electricity came through the air. Fuck that noise. Perfect things are perfect things, and Rosie Madden was a perfect goddamned thing, from the tips of her toes to the freckles on her nose. And that rose, holy fuck, that rose.I was strong, but not that strong, and I let my eyes move down again. She’d disappeared from view, mostly, except for the edge of her ass. I watched her rifle through her closet, and a few dresses fluttered onto her bed. On her bedside table, I caught a glimpse of the picture she always kept there, of the two of us together. The memories flew back at me like a runaway train. The first time I’d ever seen her was the day my parents and I moved to Truelove, at the start of middle school. The first time I ever saw her, she was volunteering at the community gardens. She had a smudge of dirt on her cheek, and I thought she’d looked super badass. I’d helped her dig up carrots and had been too fucking tongue-tied to say a goddamned word.That’s how I felt, all over again times a thousand.I’d never made a move. She’d cried on my shoulder through a line of guys who were never good enough for her. Jocks and pricks and a brief and seriously unfortunate stint with a guy who was a drummer for a reggae band who I hated so much it made me grind my teeth. But I never said shit about it. She was perfect even when she made mistakes. Tips of her toes. Freckles on her nose.Never mind that rose. Like Banksy took on a temple.One more time, I glanced down. Now she was sitting on her bed, and I saw that dark V shadow between her thighs. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. I watched her put on a pair of red panties. Equally skimpy, equally not-sensible, equally ball-busting. They were only tragic because they hid the parts of her I’d never seen before.Christ. All. Mighty.As the world started to spin, I realized fixing the shingles could wait. I’d been working on old houses long enough to know that if you found yourself on a dangerously sloping roof and felt like you might be less than 100% on the ball, you needed to reconsider your game plan. I needed to get my shit together—that body had me totally fucking derailed. So I made my way down the roof, basically bouldering down backward. I focused on my grip, and my steps, like a climber coming down from Everest without enough oxygen. When I got to the gutter, I worked my way around the corner, standing on the eave, and hooked my leg over my ladder, making sure to put one foot after another and keep a tight grip on every rung.When I stepped off the ladder, I grabbed a bottle of water that she’d left for me and filled up my palm and then splashed my face. My sweat stung my eyes through the droplets of water, and I rubbed away the tears. I heard the hinges on the screen door creak. “All done?” she asked.I opened my eyes. They stung like hell, but I didn’t give a fuck. There she was, in a dress I’d seen before. Striped and sweet. But now I knew the secret. There were red panties under there. Red. Cherry red. My eyes fell on that part of her hip that I knew was inked.“Max?”I managed somehow to snap out of it. “Sorry. Getting there. Spotted something weird with the skylight.”Rosie cocked her head. “Were you up there? Above my room?”Awesome, dude. Smooth. “Just noticed it out of the corner of my eye.”“I don’t like you being on the roof.” She pursed her lips. “Too steep. Promise you’ll get some ropes up there or something? Promise?” She reached out and put her hand to my arm, her fingers with their short pink nails pressing into my tanned skin. I had a quick but totally unavoidable image of her gripping my forearm in a very different situation. I want that. So fucking...Oh, for fuck’s sake.When I didn’t answer—I knew that if I opened my mouth the first words out would be You. Me. Right Now.—she looked up at the roof and squinted into the sun. She peered suspiciously up at me and shifted her nose, kind of like a bunny. Adorable. She wasn’t very tall, so whenever she looked at me she had to lift her chin, which used to be cute. But now looked…like everything I’d ever wanted. “Have you had too much sun?”​I was vaguely aware that she’d said some words, but I wasn’t hearing them because I realized that I couldn’t see her bra straps, so that had to mean she was she was wearing a strapless…Knock. That. Shit. Off. “I’m good.”“Mmm.” She nodded and furrowed her delicate eyebrows, which had never looked so pretty as they did at that moment. I didn’t even know eyebrows could be pretty. They’re eyebrows, for fuck’s sake. But suddenly I felt like for the last ten years, I’d been looking at her through a standard definition television, with a shitty cable connection. Now someone had handed me an HDMI cable, and she was in 1080 dots per inch. Christ.“Lemme make you a sandwich. You’re acting strange.”Rather than answer her, I dumped the remaining half a bottle of water over my head, like Andre Agassi used to do between break points at the French Open.“Ham? Or turkey? I’ve got both. Or chicken salad!” She clapped her hands together, compressing her cleavage. “Do you want a pickle?”She means an actual pickle, you fuckwit. “Surprise me,” I told her, and dragged my eyes off the curve of her cleavage. I grabbed the bottom of my T-shirt and pressed it to my eyes. I had to get out of there. I needed a cold shower, or a call from my tax guy, or an unexpectedly urgent trip to the DMV—anything to stop myself seeing her stark naked every goddamned time I looked at her. Anything to get my mind off that ink.As I wiped my face, she cleared her throat, and I dropped my shirt. “What?”She pressed her lips together and rocked back on her sandals. “Nothing!”I followed her eyes and glanced down at my fly, but the stallion was still in the barn. “Come on,” I said, finding myself smiling right along with her. “What are you looking at?”“Just…” She swallowed hard. “Looking good there, champ.” She glanced at my stomach, where I’d shown her my bare abs. She made a fist and gave me a mock punch, soft and sweet. “That P90X is working great for you.”Here we go again with the fitness videos. For everything else she was—beautiful, smart, funny—she was also a fucking ball-buster sometimes. She’d worked up this whole narrative that I spent my nights with Tony Horton on my houseboat, getting cut and doing reps while I drank protein shakes with a straw straight from the blender. It was her only explanation for why I didn’t have a girlfriend. P90X it had to be, she’d said. Or maybe, she’d whispered like a co-conspirator, “Jazzercise.” Now, though, I had a better idea than ever about why I was so picky: not a single woman held a candle to her. I’d been fucking blind to it, but now the mist had burned right off. “I’ve never even seen the opening sequence. Never have. Never will.”“They’re streaming now!”​“Christ.”Rosie snorted and made a long wheeeeee. “Sure. Surrrrrrre,” she said, stifling her giggle. “One ham-and-turkey, coming right up.” She spun on her sandals and disappeared into the house. Hips swinging. Red panties invisible, but not to me.Not anymore.

Nicola Rendell writes dirty, funny, erotic romance. She likes a stiff drink and a well-frosted cake. She is at an unnamed Ivy and prefers to remain mostly anonymous for professional reasons. She has a PhD in English and an MFA in Creative Writing from schools that shall not be named here. She loves to cook, sew, and play the piano. She realizes that her hobbies might make her sound like an old lady and she’s totally okay with that. She lives with her husband and her dogs. She is from Taos, New Mexico.

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