#but I was staring at it and decided to go ahead and post it cos why not

[breezypunk]

Vaughn: Adrenaline Junkie. Goro: Too old for this shit.

[brenwritesss]

Jealousy

KK Arnold x reader

Summary: KK gets jealous of you and Paige always getting shipped together when on livestreams, so you show her why she shouldn't be jealous.

Based on this request

Warnings: smut and language

a/n: this is my first smut story that I'm posting so I'm lowkey a bit nervous for this one.

“Ayo, let me get some of those,” Paige asks, holding her hand out as you drop a few chick-fil-a fries in her hand. Paige was currently on live with you, KK, and Ice in her dorm room. You and KK had been “secretly” dating for a few months now. And by “secretly” that meant that only the team and your close friends and family knew. When you and KK had first started dating, you had both mutually decided to keep it private to the public, with KK knowing how crazy some of her fans would get.

This resulted in you and KK trying not to interact as much when either of you or a teammate was live to keep fans from speculating about your relationship. However, the more lives you showed up in, the more people speculated about you and Paige, KK’s teammate. At first, it wasn’t that noticeable as it would be small things like you two sitting next to each other, or laughing at one another’s jokes. And to you and Paige, it was never anything more than two friends interacting with each other. But to the public, it seemed like the start of a future relationship. And when you first started noticing the comments, the first thing you did was talk to KK about it and she had assured you that it didn’t bother her since she knew you were hers.

But that was before the ship edits started.

You and Paige were talking to the live while KK was sitting with Ice on another couch, watching the two of you. You were busy eating Chick-fil-a and reading comments, oblivious to the stares you were getting from your girlfriend. As you read another comment, Paige stole another one of your fries. You turned to Paige, “Paige, they wanna know about the braids.”

Paige’s face instantly dropped as she turned to the live. “Never gonna let me live that down, huh?”

As you let out a laugh, the two of you can hear a small scoff coming from KK, who crossed her arms and looked away from you the second the two of you made eye contact. This earned you and Paige giving each other a look before turning back to the live. You then looked over at Ice, shrugging your shoulders at her and she returned the gesture, shaking her phone at you to let you know she was going to text you.

“She’s in a mood”

“Why is she mad?” you text back.

“You and Paige, Ima assume”

“What? Why?”

You could hear Ice laugh at your response before she texted you back. “Pretty sure she’s jealous.”

“Oh lord.”

You set your phone down and looked over at your girlfriend. “KK, you want a waffle fry? I’ve got a few left.”

KK didn’t even bother to make eye contact with you, shaking her head and saying no.

Paige noticed this and turned to her. “Yo, if you don’t take it I will.”

That seemed to set KK off because she looked at the two of you for the first time in a few minutes, more specifically at Paige. Her arms still crossed and a frown on her face. “Go ahead, since you seem to like stealing everything of mine, I might as well not even stop you at this point.”

You widen your eyes at her sudden outburst and you could tell by Paige’s jaw dropping that she didn’t expect it either. “What?” Paige asked quietly.

KK stood up, walking a bit closer to the two of you. “Mute the live.” Paige grabbed her phone and muted the live, setting her phone back on the table. KK sighed before she spoke again, anger bubbling inside her. “You know damn well what I’m talkin’ bout Paige.”

Paige shook her head. “No I don’t.”

“Girl boo,” she scoffed. “You’re stealing my girlfriend.”

Paige put her hands up defensively, looking at KK as if she was crazy. “WHAT? When the hell did I ever steal Y/n? I ain’t doing you like that.”

You stood up, walking closer to your girlfriend. “KK, Paige and I are just friends. We talked about this and you said you were completely fine.”

KK rolled her eyes. “So are you both just gonna sit here and act like you’re not reading all those damn comments and watching all those edits of you two?”

Paige shook her head. “KK, I’d never go after your girl. Like ever. I know that people ship us but they also ship me with tons of other people. It’s not that deep.”

You nod. “Yeah, and KK, at the end of the day it doesn’t matter what they think. They don’t dictate what happens in our relationship and those comments sure as hell don’t determine or change how I feel about you.”

KK doesn’t say anything more and walks off to her bedroom, slamming the door shut. You and Paige stay standing in your spots, shocked expressions written on both of your faces. Ice stayed sitting on the couch, jaw slightly open as she didn’t understand what just occurred either. Paige slowly grabs her phone and ends the live. “Didn’t seem appropriate to keep going.”

“Good idea,” you mutter before walking in the direction of KK’s room. You approach the closed door quietly, trying to see if you could hear anything before you knock on the door. But as you stood in front of her room, you didn’t hear anything. You sigh gently, raising your hand to knock on the door. “Baby?”

You earn no response from her. You knock again. “KK? Can I come in?”

Again, no response. “Can we talk about what just happened please?”

No fucking response. You took a deep breath, trying not to get angry. “Just let me talk to you.”

After a few seconds, you heard shuffling on the other side of the door which resulted in the door opening slowly. KK walks back over to her bed and you walk in, shutting the door behind you. You move closer to her, as she laid on her bed, burying her head in a pillow.

You speak softly, “you should have told me the comments and the edits were getting to you.”

“How can I do it without seeming like I’m controlling?” she muttered from the pillow.

You sit down on the bed beside her, gently rubbing her back. “You’re not controlling at all and even if you came to me and told me you didn’t feel comfortable with me and Paige, I never would think you’re controlling.”

“Why does it have to be Paige?”

“What do you mean?” you ask her, confused by what she meant.

KK finally lifted her face up from her pillow, turning slightly to look at you. “Paige is probably one of the most popular girls on social media right now. And she’s perfect and gorgeous and now people think you guys are dating.”

You look at her. “Who cares what these people think. I love you, not her.”

“Well what happens when people find out we’re dating instead of you two.”

You shake your head as you respond, “it doesn’t matter. I could care less and you should too.”

“Maybe I’m just not good enough for you and you should be with someone like Paige,” she says quietly.

“What?” you ask her, shocked she could even say something like that. “No, no, no, don’t ever say that. You’re more than good enough, do you hear me?”

There’s something that changes in her eyes when she looks at you this time. Her eyes darken and she gazes at you with a hint of lust in her eyes. The type of look that sends a shiver down your spine. “How good?” she asks you.

You return the look she was giving you. “I can show you.”

She gives you a small smirk, pulling you on top of her in one swift motion, her hands running up and down your sides. “Paige can’t do this.”

“You’re right,” you quietly say, looking into her eyes as your hands traveled up toward the nape of her neck. The look in her eyes that she gave you sent a wave of heat all the way to your core, igniting small throbs that made you close your eyes in response to the feeling.

“Hey.” KK rests her fingers on your chin, tilting your head towards hers. “Eyes on me.”

You open your eyes as you feel her fingers start rubbing circles on your waist, each rub shooting a new electrifying shiver through your body. You waste no time in crashing your lips against hers with KK’s body instantly responding to you, a low moan coming from her lips. Her hands roamed the small of your back, fingertips beginning to travel up your spine. You let your hands move from the back of her neck to her jawline.

Her tongue brushes against your bottom lip causing you to slightly gasp, allowing her to slide her tongue into your mouth. The feeling of her tongue in your mouth made you release short whimpers into her own, resulting in her grip on you becoming tighter.

KK begins trailing soft and hot kisses down your jawline to your neck as you tilt your head in order to give her more access to you. You buck your hips against her in order to try to release some of the tension your body had been building up. KK’s hands instantly fly to your hips and push you down harder on her, making you moan. She guided your hips into a grinding motion against hers as she kissed you down to your collarbone.

“Fuck, KK,” you whispered, almost breathless. You tried to speed up the motion in an attempt to feel some sort of friction between the two of you.

Sensing your urgency, KK pulls off your shirt and flips you onto your back in one move, hovering over you as she continues the assault on your neck. She whispers into your ear, “you like that baby?”

Losing the ability to speak as her knee moves between your legs, all you can do is give her a small nod. She pushes her knee harder against your clit, eliciting a moan from your mouth right next to her ear. She let out a raspy laugh, “I know you can do better than that.”

Her mouth moved lower now, hovering over your bra-covered tits. She reached a hand underneath your back, making you arch in response to make it easier for her to unclasp your bra. After successfully removing the fabric, she began to work on your nipples, her tongue swirling around one while one of her hands toyed with the other, giving you light pinches. Your moans grow louder and her knee pushes harder against your core as you feel the wetness grow more with every second that passes.

She gently holds your nipple between her teeth, sucking it softly while she looks directly at you, making you roll your head back. “Oh god,” you breathe out.

Your moans only fuel her more. She moves her leg away from you, causing you to whimper at the loss. She leans up, inching farther down your body as her fingers find the zipper to your shorts. In a matter of seconds, your shorts and underwear are now balled up on the floor as she positions herself in between your legs, pulling your legs up and hooking her arms around your thighs.

The anticipation built up inside you had you shaking to the touch, wanting nothing more than to feel her mouth on you. Just to feel her deep inside you. 

She runs a finger through your slick folds, her eyes in awe of how wet you are. The touch alone is enough to stimulate a breathless moan from you which only makes her crave you more. She looks up at you, a smile on her face. “Proud of this. That only I can make you this wet.”

You nod fervently. “Yes, only you,” you say as best you can without feeling out of breath. “No one else.”

She swipes her tongue through your folds a few times before circling your clit. Her fingers dug into your thighs, which would no doubt leave a mark later. You buck your hips up in response, the feeling of her tongue on you almost too much to handle. The increase in heaviness of your breath makes her speed up, just craving to hear you. The moans and whimpers for you are enough to make her latch her mouth right over your clit, sucking it. 

“Oh my…fuck,” you moan and that only makes her speed up more. And if that wasn’t enough, one of her fingers outlined the edge of your entrance before curling deep inside you, making you arch your back at the feeling. Thrusting her fingers in and out of you building up a pressure in your core that leaves you gripping the bed sheets.

KK lifts her head up so that she can see you. “You can take it.”

The feeling in your core caused by her mouth and fingers travels through your stomach and deep into your throat. You feel as if you could explode any second.  “I don’t know how much,” you pause, letting out another moan before continuing, “I can hold on.”

“Cum for me,” KK whispers directly onto your clit and that was enough to make your knuckles turn white and your orgasm to finally take over. KK keeps her pace with her fingers as you cum straight into her mouth. You feel as if your body has snapped, your breath hitching and your body shaking to her touch. As she helps you ride out your orgasm, her fingers begin to slow down as she detaches her mouth from you. “Did so good for me, baby.”

Your breaths were uneven and heavy as she finally stopped her movements and let you go. “Shit,” you breathed out. “KK, that was…”

KK let out a low laugh, moving to lie beside you. “Just know the next time you and Paige piss me off, I’m gonna have to break out the strap.”

Still catching your breath, you nod. “Noted.”

You and KK laid in bed, tangled in each other as you both enjoyed being in each other’s company. Your head was on KK’s chest when you both heard a knock on the door followed by Paige’s voice. “Love you guys but a little warning would have been nice.”

[pedroscurls]

Hii!

I was wondering if you could make a hugh jackman x reader (shes in her 30's) where she is also an actress and they met while she also worked on Deadpool and Wolverine, and they are dating in secret and the reader is promoting her new show with her male costar and they do promoting and stuff and hugh feels like she deserves someone her own age also cause she is an uprising actress and he calls it off and they are both miserable, so ryan decides to bring her on the deadpool and wolverine press tour and makes them talk and make up and they decide to go public at the deadpool and wolverine world premiere ^^ you can decide the ending :)

better together (one-shot)

summary: after filming finishes with deadpool & wolverine, your relationship with hugh progresses... until he breaks things off with you. it isn't until ryan invites you to the press tour that you see him again and finally have a serious conversation with him. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader content warnings: angst (with a happy ending!), age gap (reader is in 30s, hugh is 56), description of reader (hair and outfit), no use of y/n. word count: 2.9k a/n: gah - this was so much fun to write!!! i know this took a while to post, so thank you thank you thank you for waiting and also for requesting! hope you enjoy it :) as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Hugh tells you, hands stuffed in his pockets as he stares at you. He didn’t want to do this, but after seeing the chemistry you had with your co-star in your new movie, he realized that he’d just be holding you back. You have your entire life ahead of you, still an up and coming actress in the industry who’s already taken the world by storm. You didn’t need him holding you back. 

“What do you mean?” Tears build in your eyes as you stare at him. You know where this is going, know exactly how this conversation is going to go. “I don’t understand. We’ve been– Things have been really going really well. We’ve been careful and–”

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he blurts out. Hugh lies. He sees you take a step towards him, but he just shakes his head and steps back from you. He needs to keep his distance from you, even though his mind and heart is screaming at him to just pull you into his arms. 

“You’re lying…” 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “You deserve someone better than me, baby. Someone your age and I can’t– I can’t give you what you need.” 

“You don’t know what I need.”

“I know that it’s not me,” Hugh says. 

“I asked you before if our age gap bothered you,” you whisper, tears now strolling down your cheeks. “You said it didn’t. What changed?” 

“Everything,” he answers. 

“Okay,” you reply, voice shaky. “I think you should go.”

Hugh nods, clearing his throat. “Right, yeah. I just– I’ll see you around?” 

“Probably not.” 

“Baby…” Hugh shakes his head, and corrects himself by calling you by your name instead. “I’d still like it if we remain friends…”

“I don’t think I can do that,” you answer honestly. “Goodbye, Hugh.” You walk to your front door and open it for him, gripping the handle as you keep your eyes focused on your feet. 

Hugh sighs and then walks towards you, he stops briefly to look down at you, waiting and waiting for you to just look up at him. But you don’t. He leans in, tries to give you a kiss on your cheek, but you pull away, taking a step back away from him. 

“Goodbye, Hugh,” you repeat, gazing up at him momentarily. 

Hugh tightens his jaw. He can see the broken look you have on your face and as badly as he wants to tell you that he doesn’t mean any of the things he’s said, he doesn’t. “Goodbye,” he whispers, stepping past the threshold as he hears the door shut quietly behind him.

—

“You called it off?” Ryan says over the phone once Hugh climbs into his car. “Are you an idiot?” 

“Ryan–”

“You do realize you just let go of someone who could have been really good for you, right?” 

“I’m fifty-six, Ryan. Let’s be real here. She’s just starting out and she’s going to meet new people, work with people who are around her age. I’m just going to be holding her back.” Hugh admits, starting his car and putting on his seatbelt. When he pulls out of the parking spot and begins to leave your apartment complex, he feels his heart break just a little bit more. 

“So all of a sudden, we care about age gap?” Ryan asks. “Since when?”

Hugh sighs. “I just saw her with her co-star for the latest movie she’s in and well, it just got me thinking. What is she doing with someone almost twice her age? I don’t deserve her, Ryan.” 

Ryan laughs. He literally laughs and it makes Hugh rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry, Hugh,” he takes a deep breath in between his laughter. “But that’s the most bullshit excuse I’ve ever heard. You’re not the type of guy to care about those things.”

“It’s just different with her. She has so much potential,” Hugh answers. “I just know what people are going to say if word ever got out that we were together.”

“Who cares? You never cared about all of that.” 

“I don’t, but her career is just starting. If everyone knew about my relationship with her, she would forever be attached to my name. People aren’t going to take her seriously and–”

“She doesn’t care about that shit either,” Ryan interrupts. “She can hold her own. If she couldn’t, she wouldn’t have made it this far in this industry. You and I both know that.”

“Well, it’s been done, Ryan.”

“So, get her back.”

“No.”

“Why not?” 

“Because I already broke her.” 

“Broken things can always be fixed,” Ryan adds.

“Not this time,” Hugh sighs. “There’s no coming back from this. You didn’t see the way she looked at me.”

“I have an idea,” Ryan comments. “I mean, you just broke her heart and–”

“Ryan,” Hugh warns. “Listen, I wanted to tell you because I know she might be joining the team for the press tour for Deadpool & Wolverine and didn’t want things to be awkward… Or weird.” 

“Well, I appreciate being in the loop,” Ryan sighs. “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” 

Hugh shrugs to himself as he continues driving. “I’m not okay right now, but yeah, I will be.”

“I still think you’re making a big mistake, but… if you’re sure, then okay, Hugh.” 

Hugh doesn’t know if he’s even sure this was a good idea. There’s a part of him that already knows he’s making a mistake by letting you go, but he couldn’t shake off the nagging thought that he’d be holding you back. Especially not after seeing the chemistry you had with your male co-star. It wasn’t that he was jealous – Hugh isn’t a jealous man – but it just showed him that you deserved better than him. Deserved to be with someone closer to your age. 

“Right, thanks for listening, mate. I’ll see you next week.” 

—

It’s been a couple of weeks since Hugh had broken up with you and you had to force a smile on your face for every interview for your new movie. No one on your team or your fellow co-stars noticed a difference in your behavior, so at least it was easy to put on a facade in the meantime. 

You just don’t know how you would react when seeing Hugh for the first time when you join them for the press tour of Deadpool & Wolverine. Since Hugh had broken up with you a couple of weeks ago, you had been utterly miserable. You couldn’t unfollow him on Instagram, afraid that some internet sleuths out there will take note. So when you aimlessly scroll the app at night, sometimes you’ll see his name pop up and he’s just reposting the marketing videos that the Deadpool account had been posting to promote the movie. 

It aches you every time you see his picture. You didn’t think that you would have fallen for him, especially since he had just gotten out of a very long-term relationship and commitment, but one night after filming and after about three drinks in, you kissed him. Luckily, it was just the two of you in the comfort of your trailer. You were exhausted, but you had been noticing Hugh more and more on set. It was hard not to. He just captured your attention every time he entered a room, would make eye contact with every single person, and flash them the kindest and warmest smile you’d ever seen. 

You were lucky that the feelings you felt for him were mutual. So after one kiss, things progressed even further after that. You’d meet him at his hotel room or he’d meet you at yours. Sometimes, you would even spend the night, but when on set, you remained professional and you slowly got closer with the rest of the cast, including Ryan and Shawn. 

Even after filming for the movie ended, you and Hugh continued to see each other, making sure to be very careful not to get caught by the public eye. Only a good handful of your close friends and family knew about the relationship. The more time you spent with him, the more you started to fall for him. 

So when he decided to call things off, it caught you by surprise. Hugh hadn’t made any indication that he was rethinking this relationship and with the excuse of it being because of your age gap hurt ten times more since he never mentioned that it was ever an issue for him. 

And now, you’re walking into the hotel where the press conference for the entire cast of Deadpool & Wolverine will be for the next hour. You’re dressed in a pair of dark, denim jeans and black heels paired with a white t-shirt underneath a black oversized blazer. Your hair pulled back into a slicked back bun, makeup always remaining light and you fidget with the rings that are placed on your fingers. You can see everyone congregating in the middle of the lobby, but your eyes – they immediately find Hugh’s. 

He’s matching your outfit – dark jeans, white t-shirt, and unbuttoned black top. He flashes you a small smile in your direction and you just nod, walking inside. You can feel his eyes on you and you approach. The last few weeks had been miserable and he had tried to distract himself from thoughts of you, but he found it very difficult. Ever since leaving your apartment, Hugh couldn’t stop reflecting on maybe he had made the wrong decision. 

“Look at you,” Ryan grins, pulling you into a hug. “Glad you were able to make time for us,” he teases. 

You roll your eyes and return the hug. “Oh, please. You know I’d drop everything if you asked,” you smile. 

“Good to know,” he winks. “Because I’ve been writing a little something and there’s a part that I think you’d be perfect for.” 

“You’ll have to tell me all about it then.” 

Ryan nods and then pulls away to look between you and Hugh, his hands crossing in front of him. “So… Looks like the gang's back together.”

Hugh’s hands are placed in his pockets, his gaze still on you. He feels the urge to pull you into a hug, to give you a kiss, but he refrains from doing so. 

“Hi, Hugh,” you say professionally, giving him a slight nod. “Nice to see you.”

“Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat. “You look great.”

“Thank you.”

“You– You been busy?” Hugh asks. 

“Yeah,” you answer, looking away from him.

“Okay…” Ryan says quietly, moving a hand to clasp Hugh’s shoulder. “I’m gonna give you two some time to talk and–”

“Ryan,” you and Hugh say simultaneously.

“What?” he chuckles. “You both need to talk. Press conference doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes.” Ryan turns on his heel and walks over to Shawn, leaving both you and Hugh alone. 

“You really do look great,” Hugh finally says. 

You just give him a nod. “Listen, we can just keep our distance. We can be professional. We don’t have to–”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts. 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” you reply. “I wasn’t what you wanted and that’s fine.” 

“Baby,” Hugh whispers, eyes softening. “That’s not– I didn’t–” He sighs heavily. “I don’t deserve you. I never did.” 

“Yeah, but that’s not up to you. It never was. You decided for me. You made that choice for me, Hugh.”

“Can we talk outside? Away from everyone else?” Hugh asks, leading you outside in a more secluded area. 

You bite your lower lip and then nod slowly, motioning for him to lead the way. He turns on his heel and glances over at you from over his shoulder, making sure that you’re still following him. Once outside, he shuts the door and takes a deep breath. 

“I miss you,” Hugh blurts out. 

“You can’t– You don’t get to say that, Hugh. You broke this off.”

“I needed to.” 

“You needed to?” you let out a sarcastic laugh, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. “Are you really going to give me another excuse, Hugh? Seriously. Just be honest. I liked you a lot more than you liked me and that’s that.”

“That’s not true,” Hugh shakes his head. 

“No? Then what changed, Hugh?”

“I didn’t want to be the reason I was holding you back,” he admits.

“What?” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about, holding me back? How?” 

“I’m almost twice your age, baby.” Hugh sighs. “I saw– I saw you with your co-star and I just realized that you deserved someone that was closer to your age. You’re still an up and coming actress and I don’t want you to regret this, with me.” 

“Did I–” you sigh quietly. “Did I ever give you the impression that you would hold me back? That I would somehow one day regret this?” 

Hugh shakes his head. “Well, no…”

“Then why would you assume that just because of my co-star? Do you think that I don’t have these thoughts? That you’re supposed to be with someone closer to your age and that if this were to ever get out, people are going to say that you deserve better than me?”

“I didn’t think about that…”

“No, of course you didn’t,” you tell him. “Because you decided for me. You didn’t even give me a chance to choose, Hugh.”

“You would have chosen me.”

“You’re right,” you tighten your jaw. “I would have chosen you. I would still choose you.”

“But… why? I’m fifty-six. I’m divorced. I have two kids and–”

“Because I’ve fallen in love with you.” you interrupt him, tears pooling at your eyes. 

Hugh’s eyes widen slightly and he takes a step closer to you. “You– You’re falling in love with me?” 

“Yes, but you broke my heart, so now I have to–”

Hugh shakes his head and cups your cheeks, pressing his lips firmly to yours. He doesn’t care who will see because hearing those words just validated what he was feeling too. He feels you lean into him, hands coming to rest on his hips as his hands move to splay against the sides of your neck, moving his lips slowly with yours.

“Hugh,” you mumble, pulling away briefly as he rests his forehead against yours. “You can’t kiss me like that.”

“I regret letting you go,” he admits. “And if you’ll have me, I really want to give this another try.”

“But our age gap…”

“If it doesn’t bother you, then it shouldn’t bother me.”

“Just–” you sigh quietly. “Don’t break my heart again.”

“I won’t. I let you go once and I’ve been miserable ever since,” Hugh confesses. 

“I can’t believe I just told you I’ve fallen in love with you,” you smile, leaning in to rest your forehead against his chest as his arms move to snake around your frame.

“And just so we’re clear,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss on your temple. “I’ve fallen in love with you too.”

You pull back with wide eyes and you open your mouth to say something, but Ryan opens the door and grins at the both of you. 

“Alright, lovebirds, press is about to start. Keep it in your pants until afterwards, yeah?” Ryan winks.

—

“So, you’re sure?” you ask, looking up at Hugh as you both walk towards the car waiting for the both of you outside. It’s the world premiere of Deadpool & Wolverine and Hugh had begun talking about making your relationship public. 

“I am if you are, baby.” Hugh leans down and pecks your lips lightly. “I’m tired of sneaking around.” 

You nod, reaching down and taking a hold of his hand. “Then, let’s do it.” you smile, stepping inside of the car and feeling him climb in next to you. The car begins to move, driving towards the venue of the premiere. 

“I love you,” he whispers, looking at you with a gaze filled with so much love and softness behind it. “Thank you for giving me another chance, baby.” 

“I’d be stupid not to,” you tease, reaching up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing against the stubble. 

The car stops at the venue and you look out the window with wide eyes. There are already so many cameras, so many fans waiting on the sidelines and other celebrities are walking the red and yellow carpet. Hugh steps out first and smiles to himself, waving at the cameras before he looks back at you. 

“You ready, baby?” Hugh extends a hand out for you and gently takes a hold of your hand. 

“With you, always.” You take his hand and step out of the car with him, hearing both your names being called and Hugh slowly laces his fingers with yours as you walk towards the first marker on the carpet. 

He holds you close to his side and when he turns to press a soft kiss on your temple, the crowd roars with excitement and the cameras continue to flash in your direction. 

“Are you two together!?” 

“When did this happen!? 

“We love you!!!” 

You try to drown out the noise and it’s easy with Hugh by your side. He releases your hand to allow solo shots of the both of you and when you pose a good distance from him, Hugh can’t help but keep his eyes focused on you. He only smiles for a few moments at the camera before he runs towards you, arms wrapping around you from behind as he presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“I love you,” he whispers into your ear. 

You smile and turn around to face him, moving a hand to cup his cheek. “Let’s give ‘em something to talk about?” 

Hugh grins. “Yeah, baby.” Then, he leans down and presses his lips softly against yours.

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

Is this the end? (part I)

Katya is new at SHIELD. When she messes up during her probation, she thinks Fury will send her away. To ease the pain, she distances herself from Nat.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 2.6k • Warnings: angst, mentions of self-harm (not detailed) •A/N: I couldn't fit everything into one post, so there will be a part two in a few day's time :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

2007

The Triskelion slowly emerged in the distance. Tall, massive, impressive. A building fit for a strong organization like SHIELD. A statement to scare off their enemies.

It used to intimidate Katya too, back when she worked for that enemy. All Hydra agents were warned to stay far away from SHIELD HQ, unless they wanted to die. 

But in the past few months, it had amazingly become her safe space. A place where she could breathe for the first time in her life. A place she eagerly returned to.

Not right now, though. 

On this sunny, late afternoon in cold November, Katya dreaded landing the Quinjet on the flight deck and getting out. Her hands shook as she pressed the buttons and flipped the switches, forcing her breathing to stay normal so the SHIELD agent in the co-pilot seat wasn't alerted of her anxiety. 

She failed her mission. She messed up. Badly. She let Fury down. 

And she was still on probation. 

Her boss was very clear; make one mistake and she's out. And Fury always meant what he said. Always.

Katya didn't think she could keep going if she was kicked out of the one place that showed her kindness. If she was forced to say goodbye to the love of her life once more. 

That was the worst of it all; her failure would come back on Natasha. Natasha who was responsible for her. Natasha who promised Fury that Katya was fit for duty. Natasha who had faith in her to become a better person.

Not only had Katya let herself, the safety of the world, and her boss down, she had disappointed the woman she loved. And that stung more than anything.

The Quinjet barely wobbled as it touched the ground—at least she could do one thing right—and Katya helped her co-pilot with the shutdown procedure before lifting her heavy body out of the pilot seat. 

She didn't want to go out there. As long as she was in the jet, she was safe from being fired. Or she could pretend that she was safe, at least. So Katya took her sweet time collecting her things, triple checking that the Quinjet was ready for its next use before reluctantly making her way outside. 

Her anxiety was miles high as she crossed the flight deck. She felt like a pig being led to the slaughter. Every step of her booted feet took more effort than the last. Katya kept her gaze ahead and avoided the scared agents that jumped out of her way, refusing to let them see the fear in her eyes. 

She thought about running. It was her first instinct after she managed to escape her mission earlier today. It shouldn't have taken her fifteen minutes to decide to call in a SHIELD pickup, but it did, and she felt so ashamed about it. 

That part of her life was supposed to be over. Done. But it tempted her like a line of coke tempted a drug addict. 

Being on the run, being alone, it was so much easier. The only responsibilities she had were to herself. The only person she could disappoint was herself. If she messed up on a shady deal, they would be hunting her for a while, but only her. 

Having people who counted on her was harder than she thought it would be. Emotions were harder than she thought they would be. Her default setting was to isolate and be alone. To run when things were bad.

But she wouldn't take the easy way out this time. She refused to. With a deep inhale, Katya stepped inside the building.

To her surprise, nothing happened. She expected some agent to materialize and take her to Fury, or for people to stare and gossip about her failure. She had even imagined Natasha standing there, a disappointed frown on her face. But life inside SHIELD HQ went on as usual. They barely spared her a glance.

Without further hesitation, Katya mixed with the group heading for the elevators. Maybe if she blended in, she could hide and avoid having her soul broken for a little longer. Maybe, if she was fast enough, she could make it to her room and hide from Natasha as long as possible. 

The agents around her should know how hard her heart pounded as they shuffled away from her. How scared she was. It could be the last time they saw her face. It could be her last day in this building. Her last time riding this elevator. 

Katya's throat closed up. The tiny room suddenly felt extremely crowded. Panic pressed on her lungs. When she arrived at her floor, she bumped some shoulders in her rush to get out. As soon as she crashed through her apartment door, she sank to the floor, shaking.

The silence inside her apartment was terrible. The thoughts in her head sounded ten times as loud in the silence. They were overwhelming. The angry voices screamed at her, calling her a failure, a loser, that she would be better off dead.

She wrapped her arms around her knees in search of comfort. Comfort that she didn't deserve from anyone else.

How did she manage to mess up this badly? The mission Fury gave her was so simple, nothing she hadn't done before. Infiltrate a Hydra building—one Katya had marked as one—and steal some information. In and out. 

But somehow, they spotted her. Katya still didn't know how. She knew nobody could have heard her, or seen her. But the alarms went off and all the exits were blocked. She was trapped with no way out.

It took her locking herself into a room and hotwiring one of the alarm boxes on the walls, to lift the blockades and escape. She ran for five miles through the hills and hid before calling a SHIELD jet to pick her up. 

Now they had seen her face, knew she worked for SHIELD, knew their facility was compromised, and knew what information they were after.

It was the worst thing she could have ever done. She might as well have sent them an email. Fury would not be taking this lightly. 

Katya only noticed she was hyperventilating when someone slammed a door shut down the hall that made her jump. 

She felt ridiculous, rocking back and forth like a baby on the floor of her apartment, but it was her apartment, her safe space. She felt in her bones that she started to belong here, that this was where she should be. So it hurt a million times more, knowing she herself was the reason she would lose it all.

Katya sat on the floor for hours, digging her nails into her arms until welts started to form. Only when dusk set in did she pick herself off the floor, exhausted and covered in cold sweat. Nobody had come to check on her. 

She did her coming-home routine on autopilot. Shower, unpack, turn on her phone that she couldn't take with her on the mission, eat something—even though her stomach was in knots and she felt nauseous.

She had four missed texts from Natasha, each more worried than the last.

Nat (3:44 PM): Welcome back. Hope the mission went according to plan :)

Nat (3:46 PM): Are you okay?

Nat (4:18 PM): Can't get out of this meeting, so I can't check in. Can you let me know if you're alright?

Nat (5:52 PM): I hope you fell asleep. Dinner later? My last meeting ends at 7. If I don't hear anything from you, I'm taking it as a yes.

Guilt started to pile up on Katya's shoulders. She couldn't tell Natasha what happened. She couldn't handle letting her down. She couldn't handle breaking her heart. She couldn't handle having her own heart broken again.

Katya left the messages unanswered. Maybe Natasha would take that as a sign to not come and find her later. 

She didn't. When she showed up at 7 PM and knocked on the door, Katya pretended to be asleep. She stayed "asleep" for the rest of the night and never answered the texts in the morning.

This streak of avoidance continued throughout the week. Katya woke up earlier on purpose, so she finished breakfast right when Natasha walked into the cafeteria. She changed her workout schedule from early mornings to the late evenings to avoid Natasha, who trained in the morning. She walked the other way when she saw Natasha in the hallway. She didn't answer texts, or answered very late. 

When Natasha did manage to talk to her long enough to make plans, Katya canceled them last minute with some lame excuse. 

It stung. It hurt every fiber of Katya's being to ignore Natasha like that. The woman didn't deserve it. She should be getting angry with her, but instead Katya triggered her insecurities too.

When she asked if Katya didn't want her around anymore, the blonde swore she heard her heart shatter.

But this was necessary. Even though Fury still hadn't called her in, Katya knew her exit from SHIELD was close. She needed to create a distance between herself and Natasha beforehand, so it would hurt less when that time came.

"Stop avoiding me."

It was lunchtime, Tuesday, and Natasha had finally managed to corner Katya. Literally. She'd grabbed her wrist in passing and forced her into a random supply closet in the hallway. Her body pressed Katya's against the wall, a fire in her green eyes.

"I'm not. I'm busy," Katya answered with a hint of annoyance, impatiently eyeing the door. She had places to be, people to avoid. 

"Don't lie to me," Natasha bit back, vulnerability in the back of her voice. "We're beyond that."

"Nat." Katya tried, avoiding her gaze at any cost. She didn't want to do this.

"What is going on? You better tell me right now," Natasha demanded.

Katya scowled. "Nothing. Let me go."

"Kat—"

"I said, let me go."

Slowly, Natasha stepped back, giving Katya enough space to escape. The brunette eagerly took advantage of that and slipped back into the hallway. They may not be in a good place, but they always respected each other's boundaries.

Natasha was at a complete loss. The only thing she knew was that everything changed after that mission. If she wanted to know why Katya was avoiding her, the key lay at that mission.

The problem was; her clearance wasn't high enough to get any information. She'd tried to get into the system, but it blocked her. The only thing left to try was going to the person who knew it all.

"I need to know what happened. And no confidentiality bullshit." 

Natasha stood in front of Fury's desk, her arms crossed over her chest. She was angry. At Katya, at herself, at the secrets. She was tired of the emotional rollercoaster, of being left in the dark. She wanted answers, now.

Fury lazily gazed up at her, unimpressed and calm. "It's simple. Petrova failed her mission."

A wave of nausea hit Natasha. Deep down, she wasn't surprised to hear this. She suspected something like this. But actually having it confirmed was something else. She, too, knew what it meant if Katya failed.

"Lots of us fail our missions."

"Correct. But we've also never had a Hydra deserter join us before," Fury said casually, reorganizing some folders on his desk.

Something clicked for Natasha. She didn't know the magnitude of the mission, or Katya's failure. But if Fury was this calm about it, and if Katya was still here, a week later, something else must be going on. As always, the Director of SHIELD had ulterior motives.

"You set her up," she realized with disgust. "You set her up to fail."

Fury didn't blink an eye at her accusation, only proving that she was right. "Only when they face death do people show their true faces."

Natasha boiled with anger, clenching her fists to keep herself contained. He really sent the woman she loved into a building full of hostiles just to prove her loyalty. "She could have died!"

"I knew she could get herself out of that situation."

Natasha had never felt as protective over someone as she did right now. "Katya doesn't deserve your mistrust. She's been loyal since she set foot inside this building. She hasn't lied about anything."

"Loyalty runs deep. We shouldn't underestimate her ties to her former employer."

Natasha swallowed back some nasty words. To call the Director of SHIELD an asshole was risky, even for her. Maybe especially for her.

"If your goal was to make her terrified of losing everything good she found, then you succeeded."

Fury sharply glanced up at her with his one good eye. "We are not a charity, Agent Romanoff. Petrova needs to understand that her stay here isn't guaranteed."

Natasha clenched her teeth together. What an outrageous way to prove a point. "If she has to go, I'm going with her. Just so you understand that too."

"Message received," Fury said dryly, returning his gaze to the desk. "Loud and clear."

A mess of emotions raged in her body as Natasha left his office and legged towards Katya's apartment. It was false hope that sent her there. Hope that her small, meaningless conversation with Fury would calm Katya down enough to talk to her. 

She was still furious at him. Furious for sending Katya into a trap, for mistrusting her, and for being the perfect director. She was angry because she couldn't be angry at him. In his position, it was a logical move to test Katya's loyalty.

But Natasha's love for the woman clouded her judgment. Funnily enough. 

"Open up." Her knocks were fast and impatient on Katya's door. "It's me, and I'm not leaving until you hear me out." She was determined this time, willing to kick the door in, now that she knew why Katya acted so strangely.

To her surprise, Katya opened the door. Her body shielded Natasha's wandering eyes from seeing her apartment. She had dark circles under her eyes, pale skin, and a slow way of moving about her. "What is it?"

Natasha pushed past her before Katya could stop her. It had been a while since she had been in the apartment, and what she saw broke her heart. "Why do you have everything packed?" Katya didn't answer. All her personal belongings were in bags. "You don't have to leave. It was a test. And I think you passed it."

Katya snapped her head up, her eyes suddenly wide awake. "How do you— Ты говорил с ним (You went and talked to him)?"

Natasha was taken aback by her sharp tone. "I—"

"мне не нужна няня (I don't need a babysitter)!" The brunette raised her voice. "I made a mistake during probation. He has every right to send me off, test or not!"

"But it's not a fair test if he set you up to fail!"

"That doesn't matter! Failing still isn't an option! Test or not!"

Natasha thought she would be easing Katya's mind. But the woman only saw failure, clouded by fear. Katya was too terrified to lose everything to think rationally. "You're being too hard on yourself," Natasha continued gently. "You're an amazing agent. All your other missions went perfectly."

Katya huffed, raising her arm to scratch her head. "You can save 20 people, but we both know you only remember the one you killed."

Natasha barely heard her words. When Katya lifted her arm, her short sleeve lifted enough to show red welts on her arms in the form of nails. Clearly self-inflicted. Pointedly, Natasha looked at that arm, the spots now carefully covered. "Nothing is worth doing that to yourself."

Katya watched her go with a broken look in her eyes.

[ichikopotato]

2017 Tom with f! Reader literally js smut!

If your comfortable!!💞💞

slay.

pairings : 2017 t.kaulitz smut

synopsis : you just got out of a relationship, meaning you were at the bar, trying to get your mind off of it. You suddenly meet a guy, actually forgetting what you came there for. Let’s just say you weren’t expecting to forget your past in one night.

warnings : one night stand?, p in v, degradation, rough/ kinda sweet sex?, sweet tom, pillow princess, unprotected sex, hair pulling, implied second round, usage of “baby, sweetheart, princess”.

a/n : YALL IM SO UPSET. I actually lost a few followers from not posting in a while, I’ll try to post more often now! Love you angels.

-> IT WAS A GLOOMY EVENING at the bar in your town, nothing too exciting, just normal people having fun and drinking. You sat down, ordering drinks, wanting nothing more than to release some stress.

You drank your drink, ordering another, after another. A man sat beside you, ordering your same drink. You look at him up and down, silently admiring him as you fixed your posture.

He saw you staring, smirking slightly. “Do I have something on my face?” He chuckled, as you clear your throat, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

“No, sorry. I’ve just never seen you here before.” You smile, taking a sip of your drink. You couldn’t deny that he was handsome as fuck, from his man bun to his outfit and body.

He smiled, as he drank his drink. “Just decided to go to a new place, last one was kind of boring me out.” He winked, smiling. You giggle softly, as he brought out a hand for you to shake.

“I’m Tom, you?” He smirked, eyeing you up and down teasingly. You shook his hand, blushing softly. “It’s y/n, nice to meet you.” You giggled. He chuckled, getting up.

You both talk for minutes, getting along and being able to communicate great. Until he stood up, smirking at you, “why don’t we take this back to my place? Im sure we can get along more.” He smiled.

You smile, nodding as he got the bill, signing it as he winked at you whilst smirking. He took your hand, leading you to his car. You drove to his place, singing some songs together, laughing and talking.

As you got to his apartment, you took off your heels and waited for him to say something. He smiled, leading you to the couch, “go ahead and sit, make yourself at home. Oh, and the best view of the city is at the end of the couch or balcony.” He smirked, walking to the kitchen.

You sat down on the couch, admiring the view. He came back with some wine, and two glasses. “Care to drink more?” He teased, sitting beside you.

You hit his arm playfully, taking the glass and taking a sip. “This is good, is this Riesling?” You smiled, taking another sip. “mhm, glad someone knows what I’m serving them.” He chuckled.

You remember your ex, knowing this is his favourite. You sigh, placing the glass down. Tom notices, confused. “Is something bothering you, sweetheart?” He smiled, rubbing your back.

“No, it’s just that— this is my ex’s favourite wine.” You giggled softly, your eyes watering up. He took your hand, rubbing his thumb over your soft skin. “Im sorry, y/n. I didn’t mean to.” He whispered, rubbing your back.

“It’s fine, Tom. It’s not your fault.” You smiled, rubbing his hands. You and him stare at each other, eyes filled with desire and lust. He leaned in, pulling you into a kiss.

You smile, returning the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, as he pulls you closer by the waist. He groaned softly, “are you okay with this, princess?” He placed hot kisses up and down your neck.

You moan softly, nodding. Without another word, he carries you to his bedroom as you yelp in surprise. “t-tom!” You gasp.

You get to his room, as he laid you down on his bed. He quickly strips you out your clothes, smirking and maintaining eye contact with you.

You squirm, blushing as he strips as well. He pulls you into a kiss, moaning softly as he rubs his tip on your wet folds. “You want this, hmm baby?” He coed, teasing.

You let out a moan, whimpering softly. “y-yes, please tom.” You gasp, your hands falling to his back, as he slammed his girth into you. His head falls back, groaning.

“shit, princess. s’tight f’me..” he smirked, chuckling. He pulled your hair, pounding into you roughly. You squeal, moaning as your eyes rolled back in ecstasy. He chuckled at your face, kissing the corner of your lips.

“Yeah baby, you like that?” He moaned, pounding into you. You could only respond with pathetic moans, whimpers and whines. He smirked, feeling you tighten around him.

“you close, sweetheart— hmngh.. fuck! taking me s’well.. such a dumb girl.” He moaned, pounding into you faster. You moan, “m’close, tom. please!” You whimper.

Your tongue lolls out as you cum all over his cock, moaning and shaking. He groans, pulling out and cumming all over your breasts and stomach.

He chuckled, slapping your cheek gently as he saw your eyes droopy.

“Not finished yet, sweetheart. Gonna fuck this pussy till’ I get tired.”

well, let’s just say you stayed the night, forgetting about your stupid ex.

YALL IM SO SORRY, I LOVE YOU ALL. THIS WAS REALLY SHORT, IM SO SORRYYY! I LOVEYOUALL, STAY SAFE ANGELS.

[kakushigotofanclub]

Saneoba friends with sfw benefits fic still real but I come home from work every day completely drained of all energy (in a good way, but still) and I don’t foresee myself finishing this fic for quite a while. Which is why I’m cheating and posting another piece from it~

***

Despite the chill from the cold still seeping into his bones, his face felt like it was on fire. He stared straight ahead over Obanai’s head to the opposite cave wall. God, this was humiliating. Would they ever be able to look each other in the eye again after tonight? What if Obanai hated him now?

…So? So what if Obanai hated him? Why would he even care about that? Sanemi liked Obanai because he was a good demon slayer; that was all. There was nothing personal about the way he regarded him. They were co-workers. And they were both freezing their asses off, and sharing body heat was a perfectly reasonable thing to do right now. It didn’t mean anything. They were just trying to stay warm.

Even though he tried to assure himself, Sanemi’s thoughts were racing. What if this ruined his relationship with Obanai forever? Was he really going to lose his only friend for the sake of being a little less uncomfortable for one night? Sanemi tried to tell himself this didn’t matter. He needed to stay warm, because if he got hypothermia he would be useless. He was only using Obanai to stay warm. That’s all this was. There was nothing intimate about this situation at all.

But it sure felt intimate. It felt uncomfortably intimate. It felt like a level of intimacy Sanemi didn’t think he would ever experience again in his life. It was like the nights when he was a kid, when he and his siblings would sleep like this when it was cold.

But now, compared to the years he’d gone without exchanging displays of affection with another person, that warm, fuzzy feeling he remembered just felt hot and uncomfortable, sitting in his chest and the pit of his stomach, as if it were pretending to be dread. It was like eating something with such an excessive amount of sugar it made him nauseous.

Even so, Sanemi shakily and hesitantly wrapped an arm around Obanai.

Obanai immediately stiffened up with a nearly inaudible gasp.

Sanemi kept his arm tense, like he hadn’t decided whether he was going to leave it there.

For a moment neither of them moved. They just stayed there frozen in place, barely even breathing. Was this…okay? Was this crossing a boundary?

Then, finally, Obanai exhaled slowly, and relaxed in Sanemi’s hold.

…Okay. This was…okay. It was fine.

[whositmcwhatsit]

Chapter 1?

Okay, so technically this is an introduction... taster... of the fic to come? I have been desperately trying to finish this for today, but didn't quite make it, so I'm posting this hoping it'll hold me accountable.

A fall/Halloweeny story Inspired by a brief stop Elvis and co made on their way to the World's Fair in 1962. @thatbanditqueen I apologise for messing with your era Elvis and the naughty, terrible things I plan to do with him later in the fic...

All the love to my coven of wicked sisters of the night @be-my-ally, @vintageshanny, @ellie-24, @from-memphis-with-love, @peskybedtime, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows

“You have got to be kidding me! What is your problem?!” Cheryl slammed on the brakes as the station wagon in front of her was forced to drop below ten miles an hour because of the Dodge motorhome in front of it. It was the third time it had happened in the past ten minutes and, just like before, both vehicles abruptly started speeding up again soon afterwards. “I’m going to pass ‘em and there’ll be a monkey at the wheel. It's the only explanation!” 

The height and size of the motorhome meant that Cheryl couldn’t get a clear look of the road ahead and this had stopped her from trying to go around before, but with time ticking on and so many miles ahead of her, she decided to take a chance. She pulled out into the oncoming lane and stamped her foot on the gas. 

It was all going so well, she passed the station wagon and was coming up alongside the motorhome. She had been expecting to see some silver haired, doddery grandpa at the wheel; that would have been the most reasonable explanation for the erratic driving. Instead, with a dark captain’s hat over his dyed black hair, she found Elvis Presley eyeing her curiously as she floored it to try and get ahead of him. And that was when the truck pulled out of a hidden junction from within the tall trees ahead. 

Cheryl had ten seconds to choose her fate: splattered face first into the broadside of a pick up or swerve into the ditch at the side of the road and take her chances. Ditch it was. There was a deafening chorus of blaring horns followed by a finale of grinding, crunching metal. The ditch was wider than it looked and the front end of her car dipped before smashing face first into the earth bank and turning sideways.

Ears ringing, Cheryl was glad later that she didn’t have to explain or justify her vanity as she checked her face for injury first. She worked her way down after that and was just discovering that she had managed to survive with only a cut across her knuckle where her flailing hand had caught a knob on the dashboard, when the door was opened above her and, appearing unexpectedly for the second time that day, Elvis Presley peered in. 

“I think so?” she called back, wriggling her toes and, she could only blame it on shock, hissing in annoyance at the ladder in her stockings.

“Miss? Miss, are you okay?”

“Good, good,” he murmured, seemingly in relief. “Honey, can you reach my hand? Let’s get you outta there.” More faces appeared around the doorway and Cheryl did not have the time or inclination to worry about the hands gripping her body and pulling her up through the gap and into the damp autumn air. 

“Christ, you should be dead!” one of the other men marveled, standing on the near bank of the ditch. Cheryl stared blankly at the dented and torn hood and the shattered windshield of her car, before reality penetrated the high-pitched whistling that filled her brain. 

“No, no, no, this can’t be happening!” She wrapped her hands over the top of her head. “I can’t… I need… What am I going to do?! I’ve got a show tomorrow a couple hundred miles from here!” 

“You some kind of singer or something?” asked another of the men, his voice more twang than words. 

“Or something. I’m- I’m a clairvoyant.”

“Clairvoyant? And you didn’t see this coming?” scoffed a short, round balding man, eagerly looking for approval from his boss. 

“I’m a spiritualist, not a fortune teller,” she snapped. “I see spirits of loved ones watching over us, I don’t get tips on horse races and car crashes.” 

The captain’s hat slipped slightly askew with the speed at which Elvis turned from the crumpled hood to her. His gaze was deep and it felt like he too was seeing more of her than just her earthly form. Her face heated despite the cold, damp air and the chilling effects of shock. 

“We’ll make sure you make your show,” he said, letting his hands drop from just below his hips to help with his balance as he climbed up the side of the ditch. His gait was a little awkward and Cheryl wondered if it had something to do with the tightness of his tailored pants or the height of the heels on his eye-catching shiny shoes, before she focused back on her mess of a car and wanted to cry again. 

A crow fluttered down and settled on the roof of her car, cawing judgmentally at her. She scowled at it, but it just impassively ruffled its tail feathers and shouted at her a little louder. She rolled her eyes and turned from it, surveying the little huddle that had formed around Elvis on the bank of the ditch. She noticed now that all the guys around him were wearing black coveralls like they were his own personal squad of mechanics. They each had a fancy ‘EP’ printed on the breast pocket. 

“... I mean we’re on a tight schedule, shooting starts in two days and the Colonel-”

“And if we happen to break down on the road and end up a day or two late, ain’t no helpin’ that, you know.” He winked at Cheryl, smiling so much like a mischievous little boy that she found herself mirroring him, her smile only fading when she glanced back at her car. 

“Ain’t gonna know what I don’t want him to know,” Elvis interjected, not bothering to hush his voice the way his lackeys were, which Cheryl appreciated from an eavesdropping perspective. “Man, we’ll make it for shooting, don’t worry about it.” He slapped the shorter man on the shoulder, adding over his shoulder:

As she stood watching a couple of Elvis’ guys scramble down into the ditch to retrieve her belongings, the man himself came to her side with his arms folded, looking down his nose like he was supervising. 

“What’s your name, honey?” 

“Why are you all the way up here?” she asked. “Taking a vacation from all that sunshine and dry air?”

“Cheryl,” she sighed, turning and giving him a rueful smile. “And you’re Elvis.” He stared at her a beat too long and she realized he was trying to get a handle on her, figure out if she was a fraud. “It’s not like I live in a coffin. I know who you are.” He ducked his head as he laughed a little and shrugged. He was very sparkly, she noted, sparkly white teeth, sparkly, twinkly eyes. Yes, she may have hit her head a little in the crash. 

“We’re heading up to film on location,” he explained, sticking his hands into his pockets. “At the World’s Fair.”

“Oh. Still, I bet you’d rather be warm in California right now, huh?” 

“I wouldn’t say that, honey. Wouldn’t have got to meet a pretty little thing like you now, would I?” His left eyebrow twitched up playfully and there was a hint of a smirk on his lips as he turned away towards the motorhome. 

Ignoring the way her stomach churned with excitement, Cheryl reflected that at least her car would have still been intact. She would have to call home as soon as she got to a phone, and get them to wire some cash for repairs. Her mother would be furious, as if it was her fault that Elvis Presley couldn’t drive and some idiot in a truck decided to commit a hit and run.

The air inside the motorhome was warm and kind of musky with so many men crammed in together. The guy who had been fretting about getting to location on time climbed in behind her, settling on her other side, Elvis was obviously behind the wheel to her left. 

“We’ll just follow the highway until we hit a town,” Elvis said like he was thinking out loud. “Even a one-horse backwater place’ll have a fella with a tow truck. I know a little about cars and I’m betting your ride looks worse than it is.” 

One of the guys in the back murmured something in a low voice that Cheryl didn’t catch, but she didn’t miss the sharp look that Elvis gave the rear view mirror.

“It’ll need to have a Western Union, I don’t have enough money on me to even cover a tow. Not until after my show anyway.” 

“Well, honey, don’t worry about that,” he murmured, glancing over his shoulder as he pulled out from the side of the road. “I said I’d get you to your show, didn’t I.” 

After a couple of minutes, she asked if a window could be opened as it was a bit stuffy and a skinny man behind her with a wispy mustache informed her that Elvis didn’t like the window open ‘on account of his hair’. 

At the same time, Elvis instructed the man to shut up in Pig Latin. Cheryl recognised it because it was how she and her brothers had communicated in front of townies when they were growing up. She was impressed with Elvis’ fluency and the way the curse words flowed so nicely off his tongue. 

Elvis rolled down his window as she sat pretending with wide-eyes not to have understood what he had said. There was no real need for the deception, but it was just in her nature and part of her upbringing to build up ammunition and jealously guard secrets and information like a secret agent. You never knew when it would come in handy.

“So, what does your show entail really?” he asked, glancing at her before turning back to the road. “You’re up there on the stage and you… do what exactly…?” He met her eyes briefly. “I ain’t making fun, I’m just curious, honey.”

“Well, it’s probably a lot less interesting than your shows,” she murmured, wiping at the beads of moisture sitting on the surface of her wool coat. “People come to me to make a connection or get reassurance or to find peace, and I try to help them. It’s a fluid thing, there’s no set script so to speak.”

“Oh, but you made plenty of connections at your shows, right, Boss?” chuckled one of the guys behind him. 

“The road!” she reminded him nervously, reflexively hitting his thigh. He jerked slightly, tightening his grip on the wheel as he turned back to look through the windshield. Luckily, they were only going about twenty miles an hour at the time. 

“Shut up, Charlie,” he murmured perfunctorily, still staring at her, eyes slightly narrowed. 

Suddenly, a lot of things made sense to Cheryl. 

Cheryl tried to not ask too many questions and distract him, but Elvis still told her about the movie he was making, talked about how security was going to be a pain in the ass because of all the visitors to the fair, but that he thought that it would make the movie look better than if everything was filmed on the lot with a backdrop. He said he always found that distracting when he was watching a movie, especially if the film in the background was repeated over and over. Cheryl did not doubt him since he seemed to get distracted extremely easily. 

They had been traveling on the highway for about thirty minutes when a big logging rig headed their way on the other side of the road. Elvis enthusiastically gestured for the driver to sound the horn and Cheryl side-eyed him, but couldn’t help breaking into an indulgent laugh at the glee on his face when a booming honk filled the air. 

“Hey, what you laughing at?” His entire face was radiant when he smiled. Cheryl almost felt like she needed sunglasses. “You know, I always dreamed of driving one of ‘em big muth- trucks when I was a little fella.”

“Oh well, at least you had this little sideline to fall back on when that dream didn’t work out.” 

He laughed too late and with a touch of incredulity, like he couldn’t believe that she could be funny. “Yeah, it’s my, uh, consolation prize.” He couldn’t let that stand even as a joke and quickly included an addendum. “Naw, I’ve been very lucky, I got more than I ever dreamed.” 

“You don’t want to tempt fate, huh,” Cheryl remarked. 

“Just don’t wanna seem ungrateful, honey, ‘cause I’m not.” 

She frowned at his earnest insistence, but smiled and nodded when he glanced from the windshield to look at her.

Finally, Elvis pulled the motorhome into the parking lot of the Cozy Pines motel, sounding slightly baffled as he mused that he’d never seen a cozy pine tree. 

It certainly looked like a motel designed by someone who thought a pine tree was cozy. It was the usual two storey L-shape concrete structure with a leaf strewn concrete rectangle sunk into the middle of the parking lot with a little fence around it that looked like it might have been intended to be a pool. 

“Welcome to the Bates Motel,” one of the guys in the back muttered, face pressed up against the window.

“It ain’t so bad,” Elvis remarked gently, seeing the dubious expression on Cheryl’s face. “Honey, you just gotta find yourself a car mechanic and have ‘em send me the bill. Won’t take long and you’ll be on your way.” 

“Or else you’ll end up dumped in a swamp.”

Cheryl swallowed as she peered at the squat office building, its window dominated by a flashing neon sign that promised/threatened ‘vacancies’. 

“Goddamn it, Marty, shut your damn trap!” Elvis snapped, ripping off one of his leather driving gloves and pitching it behind him at the guy who had spoken.

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Cheryl murmured, but only softly, because if he didn’t do that, she would slash his tyres to stop him leaving her.

“Okay, change of plan. Listen up, so here’s what we’re gonna do,” said Elvis, talking fast as he grabbed her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. “Joe here’s gonna get his lazy ass into that office and get us some rooms. And then we’re gonna rustle you up a car and straighten everything out so that you’re on your way in a blink of an eye. Okay, honey?” He snapped his fingers at the dark haired man with wavy black hair on her right, who nodded, but rolled his eyes once he was out of Elvis’ eye line, climbing out of the truck.

It started to rain while Joe was in the manager’s office, and not just flecks but a massive biblical downpour. They all peered through the windshield at it, bemused by how suddenly the clouds had converged. 

“Might be better off leaving the car and buying a boat,” Elvis remarked, leaning forward so that his shoulder pressed against hers. Cheryl looked at his lashes, marveling at how long and dark they were. Then she noticed the dark smudge underneath his lower lashes, recognising it as someone who frequently applied make-up and then absently rubbed her eyes. She was growing more and more intrigued by this man. 

Joe scuttled across the parking lot with his hand held over his head like he thought this would shelter him from the rain. 

“Okay, good news and bad news- Uh, it’s Sunday, so there is no chance of finding a mechanic willing to go out and look at the car until tomorrow. Good news, they have ten rooms available upstairs, and there’s a restaurant just behind the parking lot there that’ll deliver food to the rooms.” 

“Well then, let’s get unloaded before we start to attract a crowd,” said the one Elvis had called Charlie. 

Cheryl looked around the deserted parking lot dubiously, but scrambled out when Joe proffered his hand. She thought she glimpsed the silhouette of a couple of girls back behind the office building, but they were gone before she fully turned her head. 

“You got room 220,” Joe informed Cheryl, barely looking at her as he deposited the key with the wooden room number keyring into her palm. His annoyance was evident, she could feel him almost vibrating with it, along with his anxiety that this stopover would derail their entire schedule. 

Room 220 was at the very end of the concrete walkway, next to a room that Elvis and all his sidekicks disappeared into. All in all, Elvis seemed more normal than she would have expected, except for his need to be followed around by a line of identically dressed ducklings of various sizes and shapes. 

The room was surprisingly clean-looking, but otherwise much like other places Cheryl had stayed while plying her trade up and down the coast. When she was younger her father used to insist that she stay in boarding houses, places with doilies and nosy old women that set a curfew and forbade all gentlemen callers. No doubt he would have still insisted on this, but he wasn’t in a position to insist on anything anymore. At least not in person. 

Cheryl sidestepped quickly from the window as there was a clonk and a barrage of tapping against the glass. After a second, she cautiously hooked back the curtain with finger and frowned at the crow perched on the railing outside. It tilted its head almost condescendingly as she peered out. She huffed a sigh of annoyance and let the curtain fall back into the place. 

“Hey, how come your room’s bigger ‘n’ mine?” 

Cheryl whirled round and had to bite back from retorting: ‘How come you think you can just walk into my room?’ She forced herself to be more gracious to the man paying for her room and her car repairs. (Even if he was partially responsible for her needing them).

Elvis was standing in the threshold of what she had assumed was a closet opposite the bed. Apparently it was a connecting door between their rooms. 

“I’m happy to switch rooms with you if you’d prefer. I don’t mind being cozy.” She stepped closer so she could peer over his shoulder at his room, but she saw no size difference. The only discrepancy seemed to be that she didn’t have half a dozen men turning down her bed, setting out her toiletries and bringing in creature comforts like a record player. 

“As cozy as a pine tree. No, I’ll be a gentleman,” he said softly by her ear, his fingers sliding down from her ribs to the hips. His other hand snagged her fingers and lifted them up for inspection, frowning intently at the little nick on her knuckle. 

As she opened her mouth to make a joke about how it was clearly the end of her promising career as a piano player, he pressed his soft, pillowy lips to her knuckles and what came out of her mouth was instead a slurred mumble of vowels. She held her breath, gazing up at his dark blue eyes and watching those long, black lashes flutter, before his pout spread into a sunny grin and whatever spell they had been under dissipated like mist. 

“You hungry? I am starving!” he announced. He turned back to his room, “Hey, it’s chow time. Where’s Billy?”

After half an hour, there was a knock on Cheryl’s door and one of the guys stood on the covered walkway, his hands behind his back like he was about to ask Mr Bumble for more gruel. 

“Y’all can come eat with us, Boss said,” he informed her. There was no question involved. She reminded herself that her room was being paid for and stretched her mouth into a smile. 

“I guess the locals have heard about their special visitor,” she said, slipping her feet into her pumps. “All that screaming, I thought someone was being mur-” She stopped as she looked over the railing at the dreary, gray and empty parking lot. “I could have sworn I heard girls outside.”

“Oh, they’ll be here soon enough,” he sighed with inevitability. “They always are.”

To be continued...

If anyone is any good at yelling at people until they ignore their boring real life commitments and do the fun writing stuff, please feel free to shout at me in comments!

[justsome-di]

Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs: Final Chapter

Summary: Alex is an ordinary, highly-introverted office worker. He clocks in and out and goes home to his little apartment he shares with his younger sister. He hasn’t dated in years by the time his co-workers set him up on a blind date.

The only issue is he and his date are not on the same page. At all.

While Alex thinks it’s a normal date, Damián is under the impression Alex is a client who paid to be there. No-so-quickly, they realize something is up. It’s all a prank. Damián is a sex worker Alex’s co-workers hired as a sick joke.

After reassuring that they’re both okay, Alex decides he wants revenge for both him and Damián. The plan is to use the stigma of sex work and start a 6-week, scandalous fake dating scheme with a big finale at the office Halloween party. Alex’s co-workers will be too horrified to try to prank him again. At least, that’s the plan.

You can also read this on AO3. If you want to read more adventures of the NEUD cast and see other works by me, you can subscribe to my Patreon for only $4! If you’ve enjoyed the story and want to support me in other ways, consider dropping me a message in my inbox or reblogging this post!

And thank you for reading this silly, little story. It means the world to me <3

Damián rolled over, stopping when he felt another body. He lifted his head and opened his eyes. Alex was sitting up next to him, scrolling through his phone with bedhead and alert eyes. When he saw Damián looking at him, he smiled.

“What time is it?” Damián asked.

There was a pound of gunk in his eyes, and his mouth was dry and fuzzy. He hadn’t slept so soundly in days. His brain was running slow, and his body refused to move any more than it had to turn his head toward Alex.

“10,” Alex said.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I called in sick. They can cope without me for a day.” Alex set his phone aside. “I thought maybe it’d be a good idea if I hung around today. Just in case we want to talk anymore. Or if you wanted a little company.”

The tables had never been turned like that before. It was always Damián providing the company. Not that he was complaining. It was nice. It was wonderful. He was glad Alex finally understood.

“I’d like that,” Damián said.

“Do you want breakfast?”

It was a loaded question. Damián pulled himself up, preparing to start his long explanation. Food was hard to stomach at the moment. He could eat some things but not others. Even if he felt like trying something, he might not eat all of it.

He had fasted so harshly the past few days. He didn’t know what he’d be able to eat or if he’d fall into a binge in front of Alex.

“We can do something small,” Alex said, not quite backtracking but offering a lifeline. “However much you want. Just maybe we should eat a little?”

“We can do a small home brunch,” Damián said, trying to sound casual.

“I’ve never done brunch before!”

“This is like a queer initiation. We’re doing at-home brunch.”

“Please be here for my first brunch.”

He liked the way Alex said “we.” “We” could eat a little. There was no pushing. There was no anger. It was just understanding, patience, and solidarity. The promise of making food into something more than just eating—a bigger bonding moment—eased some of the uneasy turning in Damián’s stomach.

Damián pulled himself up even though it was hours before he would have willingly gotten up on any other day. He pulled on a shirt, borrowed from Alex, that actually fit well. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he cataloged that information.

Eve was standing in the middle of the living room, dressed and with her school bag on her shoulders. She stared ahead. Leo sat in the kitchen with his phone pressed to his ear.

“What’s going on?” Alex whispered.

“I would love to,” Leo said. “My brother went out the other night, and what this student told me was he was at the bar, and then all of a sudden he wasn’t—he was, you know. He was acting different. Like he was really drunk. But he hadn’t been there all that long. The bartender said he had only served him a glass of wine. And then the man my brother was with was trying to get him out of the bar. He apparently left when some people confronted him and offered help.”

Damián’s heart sank. Alex’s hand came to rest, lightly, on his back. Damián could have easily inched forward to break off the contact, but he leaned into it.

Leo took a quiet, deep breath. He laid his free hand on the countertop.

“And someone else managed to call me from his phone,” he continued. “She was a nurse, apparently. And she told me where they were and what she thought had happened, and I met them down there. And he was—he wasn’t okay.”

He was quiet for a minute, allowing the man on the other side of the phone to speak. He closed his eyes. His chest was heaving in and out.

“No, it wasn’t that,” Leo said. “He was totally out of it, and the bartender said there was no way he could have gotten that drunk. And he was sober when he got there. I saw him right before he left.” And I’m sorry that there’s no proof. My brother just wants to move on. He doesn’t want to press charges, and he didn’t go to the police or anything right after. It’s really time-sensitive, you know. And now that we lost the opportunity to get proof—yes, sir. That’s exactly right.”

Leo listened for a few more seconds and then quickly pulled his phone away from his ear and turned on the speakerphone.

“—really am sorry that that happen to your brother. That doesn’t reflect our company, and we would never support someone who would do something like that.”

“But your employee did do it.”

“Right. Right. I did contact the bar late last night as soon as I received the email, and they did confirm what you told me, and I’ve been conducting a thorough investigation since. So, the only option moving forward is our company will be cutting ties with Mr. Trills.”

Leo punched the air. Eve relaxed a little in her stance. Damián felt a little something inside him settle and loosen.

“I mean, that’s unfortunate, but honestly, it’s a relief to hear after what my family has been through.”

And when Leo said it, he didn’t just look at Damián. He looked at Eve, too, and then with great reluctance, Alex.

“I hope you all find comfort in that decision, then. And thank you for being willing to talk about this.”

“Yeah. No problem. Thank you for listening.”

“Have a good day.”

“You too, Mr. Parkwood.” Leo hung up and slammed his phone down on the counter. “Fucking got ‘em.”

Eve jumped up and down, squealing and clapping her hands. It was the most emotion Damián had seen from the kid.

“You’re going to be late,” Leo told her, stern. “Go.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours!” she said. “Damián, we’re celebrating tonight!”

Damián watched her run from the apartment and slam the door behind her. Alex nudged him a little toward the counter and to the seat next to Leo.

Damián didn’t know what to do with his little victory. He was happy, of course, but he wished it hadn’t had to happen. He didn’t blink for a few seconds too long. He ground his teeth together, starting a little bit of a headache at his jaw and traveling up to his temple.

Alex put his hand on his back. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

“Was that all good?” Leo asked.

Damián smiled and cupped his cheek. He pulled his hand back and lovingly slapped Leo’s face, making it split into a smile.

“You were wonderful,” Damián said. “You were perfect. Thank you for doing that.”

Leo shrugged and looked away.

“I’m going to order brunch for all of us.” Alex pulled out his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. “Do you guys like French toast? I’m already thinking of a place.”

“Can I get pancakes?” Leo asked. “Please? If it’s an option.”

“Oh, you’re nice to him now that he’s getting you breakfast,” Damián said.

“I’m easily bought.”

As Alex placed their orders, Damián started to figure out how the coffee pot worked. Alex exclusively kept bougie, gourmet coffee in his cabinets. If Damián wanted anything fancier than a bag he could grab at a grocery store, he went to a coffee shop and had someone brew it for him. He always thought it was pointless to buy something expensive if he had no idea how to brew it. It was like picking up a Stradivarius after a few violin lessons.

But Alex had fancy contraptions on his counter. He knew how to roast coffee well. Damián stared at the bag and at the glass carafes tucked away in the corner.

Alex took the bag from his hands. “I got this.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“No, I’m just doing this for you. You can chill.”

Damián fell into the stool next to Leo. Without something to keep him busy, he didn’t know what to do.

“Don’t you have a class?” Damián asked.

“My prof let us have the day off to work on our capstones.”

“So, are you going to work on it?”

“Probably not. I’ll be honest.”

Alex poured three cups of amazing coffee that Leo “tainted” by adding sugar and milk. Damián wasn’t a huge fan of black coffee, but he didn’t want to insult Alex’s special blends by adding anything. Just like last time, he trusted Alex’s barista skills.

Alex took a test sip of Damián’s coffee to make sure it was cool enough to hand over. Again, Damián didn’t burn his lips or tongue.

Brunch came to the door just after 11, and they set it up at the limited counter space.

Over a mouthful of pancakes, Leo told them all about his capstone project. Alex, Damián could tell, was trying his best to understand. He asked questions, and Leo was actually polite and patient as he explained it all. Leo’s manners might have taken a dip over the past month but at least he wasn’t pretentious. Damián barely kept up with all the math jargon himself, but eventually, he let the conversation fade behind him.

Damián picked up the trash of the takeout bags and containers and tucked his barely-touched breakfast away in the fridge. Alex insisted he try again later. Even if it took all day, Damián promised himself he would try finishing the modest serving of French toast.

Eve called Leo to scream in his ear that her professor graded her test in front of her and that she had passed with a grade that wasn’t fantastic but that she could definitely pass the semester with.

It was the first time Damián had watched Leo be so excited for someone else. He was glowing. His little protege, he said, had done so well.

And sitting there, watching Leo congratulate Eve and Alex pour more coffee for all of them and hearing Eve’s excited squeals on the other end of the phone, he hoped that he would get to have many more mornings like that. And, by the way everyone was laughing, he was almost sure that there would be.

He believed, at his core, that he deserved a happy ending. And while he wasn’t sure what it was going to look like, he was fairly certain that he was getting a happy middle to lead up to it.

[camgoloud]

please please please tell me more about "rotted leaves and lemon rinds" and "and you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile" 👀

my pleasure!

'rotted leaves and lemon rind' is a tlt fic about two characters named augustine and mercymorn (the saint of joy) who have hated each other for several very sexually charged millenia. she spends the fic trying to get him to get off his ass and help her kill their mutual friend god (john). he spends the fic being very reluctant to get off his ass. here's an excerpt:

“As dead as I can make her,” he’d said, and Augustine had never pressed him, because he couldn’t—he could never bring himself to speak too harshly to John, especially not on this subject, not when it was evident already from the set of his shoulders and the emptiness in his deep-space eyes that he was staggering under the profound weight of a grief that even Augustine, who’d been mourning half his own soul for dozens of lifetimes, didn’t believe he truly understood—but the Saint of Joy had done so, fervently and at length: “What does that mean?” she asked him, her voice ascending in pitch across the length of the sentence until it hit properly stratospheric, and Augustine resisted the urge to throw things at her until she stopped only because John was still standing right there, having just delivered them the news that he’d finally given into the only request the two of them had ever made of him in conjunction with one another, and Augustine understood that to thank him for yielding to their joint betrayal by immediately attacking his co-conspirator in his presence would have been simply unthinkable. Joy never did think about things very much before she said or did them. “As dead as you can—what is that supposed to mean?” she said again, hands waving in the air, face bright with unbridled passion, eyes shining. “It means you’ll never have to worry about her again,” said John. Then: “Excuse me.” And he’d wandered quietly away, down the hallway of the Mithraeum towards his private rooms in the center, and that had been the last they’d seen of him for weeks.

on an entirely different tonal note: 'and you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile' is, of course, a fun little romp in which our friend colin hughes has a very bad time:

By the end of it with Cartrick it’s not just Colin: the whole team’s had about enough. Isaac’s no exception. As they towel off and start tugging on clothes, he turns to Colin and asks him whether he should call the Uber to their usual post-loss spot, the one where they make all the drinks stronger than God, or whether Colin’s already on it, and normally Colin would already be on it, except that Isaac uses that one specific voice he’s got when he says he wants to get our minds off this shit tonight which means he’s definitely going to be trying to pull, which means there’s going to be a lot of girls around all night, and Colin kind of wants at least one part of his day to not be hard. Just this once, he tells himself.  So he pulls a Roy Kent: makes his incomplete-but-technically-true excuses about being too tired to deal with that kind of night out, points Isaac in Montlaur’s direction, and hurries to slip off into the car park ahead of the rest of the team, with plans to go straight home alone and sulk the loss off in private this time.  Except as it turns out Colin isn’t any better at Roy Kent-ing off the pitch than on it after all, because by half an hour into his quiet evening, alone, staring at reflections of himself in the walls and replaying that seventy-third minute gone wrong in his head, he feels like he might be about to go insane or possibly explode. Is this really how Roy feels all the time, storming back and forth in his bubble of angry silence with only his own thoughts for company? No wonder he tosses around and breaks so much shit. Colin eyes the floor-to-ceiling glass surrounding his living room on all sides: best not to start throwing stones, he decides. The house being a rental and all. 

[made-ofmemories]

When Life Tears You Asunder, But You’re Not Alone

(Chapter 13/18)

General Warnings/tags: Found family, implied Wayne/Susan in future chapters, Max & Eddie have a sibling like relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, Lumax and Steddie make appearances throughout the chapters but the primary focus is on the familial bonds between characters

Chapter specific warnings/tags: The aftermath of chapter 11 continues, mention of/ description of injuries, angst, quite a lot of Steddie in this one possibly the most we’ve had so far, Dustin features in this one a lot too.

Word count: 3904

Summary: Billy was a pretty shitty brother, there was no denying it, but Max still finds herself mourning for the sibling relationship they never got to have. With him gone she thinks so are her chances of ever having the big brother figure she’s always wanted. Then in a turn of events that she never saw coming, Eddie Munson waltzes into her life. Or more like, almost runs her over.

Notes: Apologies for the delay on this one! AO3 going down yesterday as well as a few other factors meant we had to push the posting of this one back a little.

Co-written with the wonderful @ladydorian05 and crossposted on AO3. Updates every Friday.

Series masterlist

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

Eddie gets discharged from the hospital 2 days later. Steve is there when they get the news in the early morning, he’d agreed to stay overnight and keep an eye on Eddie as well as Max. Wayne had suspected she wouldn’t be leaving his side anytime soon and so far he seemed to be correct. Eddie had insisted he didn’t need a round-the-clock babysitter, but one look at Steve with that kicked puppy expression and a stern glare from Max was all it had taken to change his mind. 

“You’re kidding right?” Eddie asks with his eyebrows raised so high they’re lost under his bangs as he stares at the wheelchair Steve has just wheeled into the room. 

Max is sitting on one of the chairs next to Eddie, trying to stifle a laugh at Eddie’s offended expression despite the eye roll she’d given to his protesting. He’d only left to call Wayne, his shift would be ending soon and Eddie hadn’t left room for much negotiation when he’d decided it’d be pointless for him to drive all the way out there when they could just meet him back at the trailer. 

“Don’t blame me.” Steve says with a sigh, he knows when he’s fighting a losing battle so it seems, “It’s just until you get out of here. The nurse insisted, hospital policy.”

“Nope.” He says, popping the ‘p’ as he throws back the covers that are over the lower half of his body and swings his legs out of the bed, “Last I checked there wasn’t anything wrong with my legs.”

“Whatever, man.” Steve resigns, watching as Eddie stands on shaky legs, gripping the back of Max’s chair whilst he regains his balance. He hasn’t really been on his feet much the past few days, much less without the support of someone else by his side, “But if you fall and get yourself re-admitted I’m leaving you here.” He’s not. All 3 of them know he’s not going anywhere.

There’s a black duffle bag stuffed with whatever of Eddie’s belongings Wayne had been able to find in their trailer, including a set of clean clothes. Max leaves whilst he gets changed. Steve stays, helping him wriggle the shirt over his head since he’s still struggling with lifting his arms. Eddie thanks him and Steve gives him a bright smile in return, “What’re friends for, right?”

Steve goes ahead once they’ve left the room, heading over to the nurse's station and leaving Eddie and Max to trail behind. He seems to know what he’s doing so Eddie lets him get on with whatever it is he’s up to.

“Don’t.” Is all he says to Max before she can say anything when he notices the mischievous expression on her face, that kid doesn’t miss a thing and Eddie is more than aware of his cheeks glowing a rather bright shade of pink. 

“I didn’t even do anything!” She scoffs indignantly.

“Mhm.” Eddie hums in response, unconvinced.

Steve returns before the bickering progresses any further, “Good to go.” He says as he hands over some paperwork and a paper bag of medication that Eddie doesn’t bother to look at before stuffing it into his pocket. 

Wayne and Susan are waiting for them, seated at the bench outside of the Munson trailer and sharing a cigarette when Steve’s car pulls up. Susan heads straight to Max, brushing back a few stray hairs on Max’s forehead, Max bats her hand away complaining about the fussing. They’ve barely seen each other since Eddie was admitted to the hospital and he leaves them to catch up.

Eddie winces when he drags himself out of the car and heads for the trailer with a slight limp. His legs may not have been injured but everything else hurts and the bumpy journey along the road into the trailer park hadn’t made the situation any better. He brushes off Steve’s offer of help with a wave of his hand.

“How’re you feeling?” Wayne asks, he’s joined Steve and is hovering by worriedly as Eddie makes his way towards the front door. They both look as if they’re expecting him to drop to the floor at a moment's notice and visibly relax once he’s finally seated.

“Peachy.” He says with a tight-lipped sarcastic smile as he sinks into the couch cushions.

“I promised to pick Robin up, so I gotta go.” Steve explains, setting down the bag he’d carried from the car, “I’ll come by later with Dustin if you’re feeling up to it?” He asks. 

“Yeah, sounds good.” Eddie agrees, it comes across a little more clipped than he’d like. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Dustin, he loved Dustin’s bad jokes and infectious laughter and he had spent almost as much time at the hospital as Steve and Max. But, Eddie can feel the beginning of a headache starting to settle in, he’s hungry, and his ribs ache. 

“Are you comfortable there? Need more pillows?” Wayne asks, fluffing up a cushion before motioning for Eddie to lean forward and placing it behind him.

“I’m alright, Wayne. Stop fussing so much.”

“You might be a legal adult, but don’t you forget that I’ll never stop fussing and worrying about you.” Wayne ruffles Eddie’s hair, looking at him with fondness, “That Harrington boy isn’t what I expected.”

“He isn’t what I expected either.” Eddie says, blaming the soft expression he knows has taken over his face without his permission on the painkillers they gave him before leaving the hospital, they’re clearly not doing anything for the pain so they must be doing something, right?

“I can only hope you’ll treat him better when he comes back. Don’t scare him away, he’s a nice boy.”

“Nice? That’s the best you can come up with?” Eddie teases, letting his head loll back against the couch cushions. He can hear Susan and Max in the kitchen and wonders vaguely when they ventured in from outside.

Wayne shrugs, “Nicer than Chad for sure.”

“You still remember that?” Eddie groans. 

He’d been barely 15 when Wayne had come home early from work and caught them making out in the living room. Eddie had thought that he was about to get kicked out for sure, but Wayne hadn’t made a big deal of it and after a somewhat uncomfortable conversation, assured him it was going to take a lot more than liking boys for Wayne to want to get rid of him. 

“I like this one better.” Wayne shrugs, one corner of his lips twitching up into a hint of a smile as he clasps Eddie’s shoulder with one hand and squeezes gently, still cautious of his injuries. 

“Me too,” Eddie says, smiling bashfully and twirling a lock of hair around his finger. He feels like a schoolgirl with a crush, but he can’t help it. 

“‘Me too.’ Maybe you should tell Steve that.” Max quips, arms crossed as she looks between Wayne and Eddie. “I know! You could write him a song to let him know just how nice you think he is.” Her voice is dripping with sarcasm as her features morph into an over-exaggerated expression.

“How long have you been standing there?” Eddie asks, wide-eyed and trying to figure out exactly what she heard.

“Long enough.” She answers with a shit-eating grin.

“Max, could you get one of our folding tables? I don’t think Eddie should be straining himself to reach the coffee table.” Susan calls from the kitchen.

“Sure, mom.” Max leaves the trailer for a moment, returning with the folding table and placing it in front of Eddie.

“Okay, kids. Don’t get too excited, it’s from a can.” Susan says carrying two steaming bowls of soup to the living room. “Welcome home, Eddie.” She says warmly, placing his bowl on the small table before taking a seat next to Wayne.

She’s been doing better lately, in part thanks to the weekly AA meetings she’s been attending, accompanied by Wayne once she’d mentioned not wanting to go alone. The two of them had grown closer over the past few weeks, a shared cup of coffee in the kitchen, a chat on the porch over a shared cigarette. Eddie had noticed, Max too.

“I let Hopper know that we’ll be down by the station tomorrow morning to file the complaint,” Wayne mentions once Eddie is a few spoonfuls through his soup. The chief had already driven by the hospital the day prior to take some evidence photographs before the swelling on Eddie’s face went down too much.

“Okay… Do you still think that’s what we should do?”He knows he has agreed to do it back in the hospital, but he still has his reservations about going through with it.

“Yes, we talked about it,” Wayne says, giving Eddie a stern look.

“I know, I know.” Eddie lets out a sigh, “Tomorrow.” 

“I’ll go with you.” Max chimes in.

“Max, I’m not so sure that-” 

“Mom, I’m a witness. I saw it all.”

“You’ve already missed so much school.”

“Exactly, one more day won’t make a difference.”

“Wayne?” Susan questions, looking for some backup, she knows she’s never going to win this argument alone.

“I think she’s made up her mind already.” Wayne says gently, “Don’t worry, Susan. I’ll take care of her.” Susan sighs in resignation.

Susan collects their dishes once they’re done eating and heads to the kitchen joined by Wayne. No matter how hard he tries Eddie can’t make out their hushed conversation over the sound of running water and clattering dishes as they wash up. 

“So,” Max starts and Eddie turns his attention from his attempted eavesdropping to the redhead sitting next to him, “Who’s Chad?” She asks with an amused smirk.

“We are not discussing that.”

“Why not? Does Steve have competition?” She fires back complete with an exaggerated gasp.

“I don’t let you hang around here all day so I can be bullied by a twelve-year-old, y’know?”

“Fifteen.” She corrects. He knows how old she is, but the affronted look on her face whenever he purposefully gets it wrong never gets old, “And stop deflecting.”

“Alright, alright.” He sighs, “Chad was a long time ago, and as it turns out, a douchebag.”

“You didn’t see that one coming?” Max snorts, “I mean, Chad, really?”

“Yeah,” He laughs then immediately regrets it when the pain in his ribs worsens, “Maybe you have a point.”

“What’re you kids laughing about?” Susan asks, a smile on her face as she approaches. 

“It’s a long story,” Max says and Susan accepts it without question.

“I’m heading home, I’ll be by tomorrow.” She explains before they take turns saying their goodbyes. Wayne is next, announcing that he needs to go get some sleep before his shift later.

“If you need anything-” 

“I know, Wayne.” Eddie repeats for what feels like the hundredth time, “I’ll wake you if I need anything, will you go get some sleep now?”

Eddie spends most of the day on the couch drifting in and out of sleep, Max had brought over a few comic books from her trailer for him to read, but currently, their attention is glued to the tv and they’re both fighting to keep their eyes open when they hear the knock on the door.

“I got it,” Max says, jolting herself out of her half-asleep state as she jumps up to get the door. She returns with Steve and Dustin following close behind and Eddie’s face lights up at the sight of Steve’s awkward little half-wave and Dustin’s bright toothy grin.

“We brought snacks,” Dustin announces, holding up a brown paper bag packed with junk food for Eddie to see.

“And entertainment,” Steve adds, copying Dustin’s gesture and holding up the short stack of board games, “It’s not DnD, but it’s the best we could do.”

Dustin and Max are crowded around the coffee table, bickering between themselves as they set up the first game when Wayne emerges from his room wearing his work clothes. He offers Steve a quiet greeting followed by a pointed look at Eddie which Eddie returns with one of his own. 

“You sure you’re gonna be ok?” Wayne asks before he leaves.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine.” Eddie assures, “Stevie here is almost as good at being a nurse as he is a babysitter.”

Steve doesn’t miss a beat, “Excuse you!? I’m an excellent nurse and babysitter.” He replies, feigning offense. 

“If you claim to be so good then maybe you should sign up for nursing school, Steve.” Dustin says looking up at him from his place on the floor by the coffee table where he emptied the paper bag with the snacks and is now setting up some of the board game pieces, “You did act like a real pro before the ambulance arrived.”

“I think there’s a community college with a good program not far from Hawkins,” Max mentions as she sits cross-legged on the floor across from Dustin.

“Alright, let’s finish setting this up before you little shits start planning my future,” Steve interjects, moving from his spot on the couch next to Eddie to kneel next to the half-set-up board game on the coffee table.

Wayne, apparently convinced that Eddie will be alright, leaves them to it and Eddie notices him slip out the front door from the corner of his eye.

They make it through 2 out of the 5 board games Steve and Dustin had brought along before growing bored, at which point their attention turns to the tv which had been running quietly in the background whilst they played. 

Max is the first to fall asleep which is unsurprising, she’d spent the last 3 days in the hospital with Eddie and whatever uncomfortable, fitful sleep she had managed to get wasn’t enough. She’s curled up in the armchair she’s come to claim as her own. Dustin has chosen to stay on the floor and is using the bottom of Max’s chair to prop himself up, he falls asleep shortly after she does. 

“You can sleep in my room if you want,” Eddie says when he notices Steve’s eyelids drooping more and more with each passing second. His voice is barely above a whisper to avoid waking Dustin and Max. Steve had gotten up to turn the TV off a few moments ago, there was nothing good on anyway, “I’m just going to stay out here tonight.”

“Me too,” Steve says, slotting his legs on the couch next to Eddies so they’re laying side by side. It’s a tight squeeze, the small couch isn’t exactly designed for 2 fully grown young adults, but it works, “Promised Wayne I’d keep an eye on you.” He adds as an explanation. 

They both settle down, sharing the blanket that had been wrapped around Eddie’s legs and torso, but Eddie's mind keeps drifting back to his conversation with Wayne.

“Hey, you still awake?” He asks and Steve’s head pops up from the other end of the couch.

“Yeah, everything ok?”

“Um- yeah, I just wanted to say thank you.” Eddie says and Steve’s expression softens from worry into fondness, “For everything.”

It doesn’t feel like enough. Steve had saved his life, possibly Max’s too. He had stayed by their sides throughout the whole ordeal, making sure Eddie took his meds, that they were both fed, and that Max remembered to go get some fresh air, a mere thank you seems like nothing in comparison. 

“Anytime,” Steve replies, “Now get some sleep, Eds.”

Eddie listens this time, settling back down at his end of the couch with Steve’s legs pressed against his own, the only sound filling the room is Dustin’s quiet snores and an occasional sleepy mumble from Max. 

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

The morning light brings for Eddie the reality of what’s about to happen, what he is about to do. 

He doesn’t want to open his eyes. Not ready yet to face the day, he knows what he has to do, in theory. Hopper walked him through the process the day he took the pictures and promised that he’ll do it again as he fills the form at the precinct.

He’s not as anxious as he probably would be if he was alone in his room. The knowledge that his uncle came back safe and sound from work about an hour ago and is resting in his room, the sound of Dustin’s quiet snores, Max’s deep breathing, and the feeling of his legs tangled with Steve’s grounding him. Their presence, calming.

He knows he should try to go back to sleep, get a few more hours of rest before they have to leave, but the thoughts going around his head won’t shut up long enough for him to actually be lulled back to sleep.

“Are you okay?” He’s startled by Steve’s sleepy, quiet voice coming from the other side of the couch.

“Yeah, yeah, peachy. Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been shifting a lot and your breathing changed. I thought that maybe your sides were hurting or you had a nightmare.” Steve says as if those are totally normal things to notice, as if literally anyone else would have picked up on those things let alone paid them enough attention to realize something might be wrong.

“I’m fine,” Eddie reassures him,” just, just can’t go back to sleep. Can’t stop thinking about the complaint.” 

“Hey,” Steve nudges him slightly with one of his legs, “It’ll be fine. You’ll see, in no time you’ll have a restraining order and Carver behind bars if he ever breaches it. And if that’s not enough, remember that we all know how to get rid of monsters, I don’t think that self-righteous asshole would put up much of a fight.”

“What’s this!? Golden boy Harrington willing to defend my honor?” Eddie says, half joking in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“If necessary.” Shit, he’s serious.

“You, you would really go to that extreme?”

“To keep you safe? Of course.” Eddie is stunned into silence by the earnest delivery of Steve’s words.

“You realize Steve’s won like one fight in his entire life right?” It’s Dustin, they’d both assumed he was still asleep, neither noticing when the snores had stopped. 

“I– that- that’s not true.” Steve stammers, his face twisting into a frown as he shifts so he can look at Dustin.

“Alright, name 2, and Demogorgons don’t count.”

“What?! How do Demogorgons not count?!” Steve replies, his voice raising of its own accord, but thankfully not enough to wake Max.

“Because Demogorgons don’t fist fight.”

“Exactly! How is beating a Demogorgon less impressive than beating a person?”

“I don’t know Steve, why don’t you explain how you can face off with a pack of Demodogs and survive but you can’t beat Jonathan Byers in a fight?”

“As entertaining as this is,” Eddie interjects, amusement written across his features, “Maybe it can wait until later yeah?” He suggests with a small nod towards Max who is starting to stir, if they keep talking they’re going to wake her and she needs the rest. 

“Yeah, we should all try to get some more sleep, it’ll be alright.” Steve says, his voice softening, “And for the record, Dustin, all that stuff I said about protecting Eddie? I’d do the same for you.” He doesn’t say it but there’s the unspoken implication that it applies to all of them, the kids, Robin, Nancy, and even Jonathan if it came to it. 

“Steve?” It’s been a couple of minutes since Steve last spoke, Dustin is already snoring again, and he’s not sure if Steve is even still awake, but he needs to say it once more.

“Yeah?”

“I need to say it again, thank you.”

“Go back to sleep Eddie.”

And surprisingly he does.

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

They eat breakfast together, Max, Eddie, Dustin, Steve, Wayne, and Susan all crammed into the Munson’s tiny trailer. Max knows they’ll go their separate ways afterward. Steve has to drive Dustin home to change clothes and get his school bag before he drives him to school, then he has to pick up Robin before her shift starts. While Wayne, Eddie, and her have to drive down to the police station. 

“Dustin, could you please show this to Max’s teachers?” Her mom asks, rushing down the trailer steps to catch up with them before Dustin gets inside Steve’s beemer, “It’s a note to let them know Max won’t be going to school for a few days.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Hargrove.” Dustin takes the offered piece of paper with a toothy smile. He gets inside Steve’s car and they leave the trailer park.

“Thank you, mom.” Max wraps her arms around her mom, pulling her into a hug that doesn’t last long enough. She would have liked to stay in her embrace longer, but then her mom would be late for work and she would hate to get her in trouble with her boss.

“Take care kids,” Susan tells them before she heads out of the trailer park in her car.

“It’s weird to be called a kid by another adult that’s not Wayne.” It’s not the first time she’s said it, but even Max has noticed that it’s becoming a much more regular occurrence. 

“Does it bother you?”

“Not really, Red.” Eddie places his hands on her shoulders, both watching her mom drive away. “I could get used to it.”

“Alright kids, let’s go,” Wayne says, closing the door of the trailer and walking to his truck.

-----------

The process of filing the complaint is smoother and faster than Eddie had thought it’d be, it helps that the chief of police is on his side and that Hawkins is a small town where nothing ever really happens. Other than the whole interdimensional monsters thing, a girl with superpowers, and a secret Russian base under the local mall, of course. 

Two weeks. Two and a half weeks is how long it takes for him to be called to the courthouse. This is the part that had been worrying him the most, the wait leading up to this moment. His friends tried to take his mind off it, constant visits, Max rarely leaving his side, it helped, but not as much as seeing Jason and his minions standing in a courtroom. 

The whole ordeal feels like a fever dream. Between an unexpected turn of events involving Andy and Brad turning their backs on Jason when they learn about the consequences of their actions otherwise,  Jason almost losing it during the hearing and threatening Eddie’s life in front of everyone, and his body still recovering from his injuries, he feels drained before the day is even over.

Max, Steve, Hopper and Wayne cheer when the judge announces their verdict. The four of them are being much too loud for the quiet of the courtroom, but they’re too caught up in their celebrations to care about the stern glare they’re getting from everyone around them. 

Jason’s sentence is the heftiest out of the three of them, but they all receive a restraining order,  a hefty fine, and community service as well as being required to cover Eddie’s medical bill. It’s not the harshest punishment they could have received, Wayne and Hopper had been pushing for jail time, but it’s more than Eddie ever expected.

The news of the Carvers leaving town comes a week later.

And just like that, it’s over.

[thetopcabinet]

Creative Writing Exploits

I might as well post my creative writing stories here. That’ll be fun. This one the teach gave us a prompt of an comic book panel with 4 zombies in it. Each had a speech bubble, but it was empty. We had to fill it in ourselves, and give the scenario a little flavor. Here’s mine. 

10:00. Finally, time to get outta this place and have some real fun. The 4 zombies clocked in their time and departed to their usual spot, the Afterlife. It was their favorite spot, since it was the only place that stayed open this late. As they entered, a bell jingled, and the smell of old wood enveloped them. They couldn't smell it. A soft glow emanated from dim lightbulbs placed over every table, including the bar. There stood a glowing phantom, who was too busy cleaning glasses to notice them come in, even with the bell installed. The gang sat at their usual spots at the same table, where their orders were already prepared and waiting for them. The phantom saw them every day, and they never changed their orders. He decided it was more time efficient to make it and set the table ahead of time so he could spend more time cleaning up. Not like they talked to him much anyway.

"Ugh, our boss. What an asshole, right fellas?" The first zombie announced. He was one of the many accountants. For some reason, he thought showing up late, playing games on work time, and pulling pranks on co-workers was deserving of more than a stern talking to, and getting his hours shortened.

"Yup, he won't even let me eat my partner." The second zombie chimed in. He was notorious for trying to eat his human peers on a daily basis. Zombies already had a hard time getting jobs where they had to work  around, and sometimes with, humans. He didn't make it any easier. 

"Yeah, I'm sure he's real fun at parties." The third zombie quipped. It was a common sight to see this one missing an arm, a leg, and sometimes even a lower jaw. He used it as an excuse to get out of work early. But every time he'd come to the Afterlife, they would mysteriously re-appear. Just in time for him to get drunk again. Or at least try to. 

Then, there was the fourth one. He was meek, and shorter than the other 3. Typically, he doesn't join in the conversation because he disagrees with most of them. But they took turns covering the bill. He figured the occasional free meal was worth tolerating their bickering. Yet, he felt it was strange that they could talk so brazenly about someone who was right next to them. Someone who gets an earful from the higher ups every time they make a mistake. Someone who keeps them employed because he knows they have nowhere else to go. Someone who somehow managed to keep this branch of the company afloat while the 3 of them do their best to throw more water in

"I-I'm their boss..." The fourth zombie thought, as he stared at his meal. He was paying this week.

[choco-pudding]

Space Channel 5: Gyun Gyun Book p.32-p.35 (Translations by @lavoszero. Edit by myself)

I was going to post these in a batch with pages 28 through 31 but translating those is going to be a while.

Edit: 5/9/22, rescanned and edited the text on page 35. 7/1/22, edited the text on pages 32-33. 8/3/22, rescanned pages 32-33.

Imgur link to all of the Gyun Gyun Book translations we’ve done thus far.

Plain text below

p.32

Space Pirate Broadcasting Station Space Pirates Channel Trade Name: None Number of Employees: Unknown Work Motto: We are the voice of Truth

They're an illegal (also unlicensed by the Space Broadcasting Association) channel that doesn't focus on earning money, so not that many people have heard about it. However, their recent reports are well documented and known for providing honest information. They're amazing. Viewers who admire Jaguar often want to become a member. But even we don't know how to manage that. We just don't know.

Lead Reporter (?) of the Space Pirate Broadcasting Station

JAGUAR (jagā)   BIRTH: 2464 BLOOD:  AB GENDER: MALE

35 years old. Leader and reporter of the Space Pirate Broadcasting System. Rumor has it that Jaguar was once a Space Channel 5 reporter, but was fried after discovering that the spaceship accident was setup by Blank. If that's true, then it's understandable why he decided to continue reporting as a Space Pirate to reveal the truth. It also appears that the hero of that tragedy, who is being chased by the entire Space Broadcasting world, resembles Ulala's first crush.

Space Pirates Broadcasting Ship: Bad Tuning bad tuning

The Space Pirate's base of operations and where they broadcast illegal radio waves. Many of the Space Pirates actually live there. It has a streamlined hull, and though the operation system is an old manual type, it still provides excellent performance. The mysterious logo is super funky!

Program check! check!

"Emergency Special News Programs" are broadcasted by everyone (each channel covers their own version of accidents), however, if you don't trust those broadcasters when a suspicious accident happens, be sure to tune into other radio frequencies! Other scoundrels like Blank will never be tolerated! No hearsay!

Jaguar 64

Apparently, during "Urgent Special News Programs" a short film about Jaguar plays between certain broadcasts? It has no official title, but is unofficially titled as Jaguar and his year of birth.

[Translator’s note: The Space Pirate’s motto is the same thing Jaguar says i Japanese when after the others say his name .]

p.33

Channel 01 Space Channel 01 Trade Name: Space Broadcasting Association Number of Employees:  12,680 (as of 2499) Work Motto: Precise information, prompt communication

The very first channel in the history of the broadcasting companies, they manage and distribute Space Broadcasting licenses to other channels. They adhere to the basics of broadcasting, so their content is always good and the information they provide is stellar. They have an extensive amount of programs, and their team's technical skills are outstanding since their channel can be seen everywhere in the galaxy.

Lead Reporter for Channel 01

TACHIBANA (tachibana) BIRTH:  2459 BLOOD:  A GENDER:  Male

40 years old. The face of Channel 01. His real name is Shinichiro. His logical reports have no equal at his broadcasting station. He's actually very popular.

Program check! check!

For a channel that has every type of genre, Channel 01 actually plays a lot of sports and music. And of course, their perfectly scheduled news. The "7 o'clock Space News" staring Mr. Tachibana is always a classic!

Life's Q and A

Mr. Tachibana's "Life's Questions and Answers" is a segment where he answers callers and gives them advice, it's very popular. It has overwhelming support from people in their 40s!

Channel 88 Space Channel 88 Trade Name:  Space Broadcasting Station Co. No. 88 Number of Employees:  500 (as of 2499) Work Motto: Be ahead of the universe with the latest technology

Channel 88 is well known for its production of the newest technology, and they even created a robot reporter installed with a super AI. Although they don't have a large workforce, they're still a big hit in the Space Broadcasting industry.

Lead Reporter (Robot) for Channel 88

88MAN Robot Reporter (88man)

2 years old. A tall reporter robot installed with the newest super AI. 88Man's spacecraft is extremely sturdy, super agile, and easy to use. Other companies just can't replicate its efficiency.

Program check! check!

Reporter robots can broadcast from anywhere, even in places with extreme radiation, lack of oxygen, extreme heat, or the depths of the ocean. They can't even be affected by diseases. They can even infiltrate hard to reach areas and can be repaired!

Exploring the Unknown Regions of the Galaxy

Their broadcasts and data sensors are outstanding thanks to their high-performance processors. This is why88Man has explored many places.

p.34

Ulala VS Pudding

Super Big Funky Project Dialogue Ulala (ch5) x Pudding (ch42)

The long-awaited talk between the two who have the greatest rivalry between popularity of viewers, has finally been made a reality!  Why did these two become reporters? Will they find love in the end!? Ranging from work to their private life, we present to you their deep conversations.

p.35

Ulala: Pudding has a reporter’s spirit after all, huh?

-

Pudding: Ulala, thank you for helping me at the Morolian Secret Base. I really appreciated it. Ulala: Huh? But when you said "I could use a hand here" it didn't sound that sincere. Pudding: That's because I couldn't decide if I wanted your help! And you seeing me be forced to dance that freaky dance was so embarrassing! Ulala: Settle down, settle down. By the way, Pudding, how has work been lately? Pudding: It's been going good. I've got a new single being released. Ulala: Hey now, that's wonderful! A reporter who's able to both sing and dance. Hey Pudding, didn't you used to be an idol? Ever thought of making another debut performance? And why did you decide to quit being an idol? Pudding: Oh! Well… I wanted a change of careers. When I was an idol, I sold a lot of records, so the publishers gave me the okay. What about you Ulala, why did you become a reporter? Ulala: Oh, right. Mm… The reason why I became a reporter. It's a bit of a long story, is that alright? Ten years ago, I was thrown into space during a spaceship accident. There was a reporter who saved me during that time, so I wanted to find that person again. I wanted to thank that reporter and tell him how grateful I am for rescuing me, that's why I joined Channel 5 when I heard he used to report here. I still sometimes find myself wondering who that reporter could've been.

Pudding: Hmm. So, it's like your first crush. Ulala: Uuh, I guess. Anyways, I was so curious that I went through old recordings, but for some reason they were all erased. I also feel like I've met someone similar to that person recently, who was it again? Pudding: Maybe it's Jaguar! Haha, just kidding ~. Ulala: I think I'll remember when I meet that person again. It's definitely not the director, who's always complaining about me and yelling at me, or Blank since he's in prison. And definitely not Space Michael, he's way too old. Pudding: Huh!? S-seriously? …Then it's-! Ulala: Pudding, why are you so riled up? Pudding: No, no, it's nothing. Yep, hmm, nothing at all… Ulala: It's hard to remember details of an old memory from such a difficult time. By the way, do you have a boyfriend? Pudding: No way! If I did, then I'd be constantly chased by those weekly magazine paparazzi! Plus, don't you think that my bodyguards, who have been with me for ten years, would be so sad if I did that, too? Ulala: I understand. I guess you still have that idol image to uphold. It must be difficult. Pudding: Augh, please stop bringing up my past as an idol! Ulala: Okay, okay. I'll change the subject, is there anyone in another broadcasting station that you admire? My choice is 88MAN. Being able to calmly broadcast in something dangerous like a gas cloud is really impressive. Pudding: Hmmm. You might not believe me when I say this, but I often watch soccer on Space Sports 1. And the Space Cup, which Channel 01 broadcasts to the whole galaxy. I really enjoy watching Tachibana's live performances before the show starts too. And I like talking about the broadcast "November, 2499, the Mars Stadium. Is There a Way for This Red-Stained Team to Reach the Space Cup Finals!?" but whenever I watch it, it makes me tear up. It's only at times like this that I regret my choice of style with my broadcasting programs~. Ulala: Pudding, you have a reporter's spirit after all. I can see it within you. Pudding: Naturally, since we're both great reporters. But looks like it’s the end of the interview. Let's both do our best to support one and another!

- Pudding: Being forced to dance that freaky dance was so embarrassing.

[everlasting-stories]

To Feel Again [M]

Genre: light angst, romance

Warnings[!]: smut, penetration, creampie, unprotected sex, mentions of adult toys

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader

Words: 4.4k / One-shot

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Valentine's Day: the day of roses and hearts and chocolates and romantic candlelit dinners. When people proposed marriage and professed undying love.

You sighed, staring unseeing into your bowl of cornflakes as they succumbed to their milky grave and turned to soggy goop. Funny how a date on a calendar could open the pit of despair that lived somewhere near your stomach. It had to be near your stomach. You've been reasonably hungry until you've noticed the date and the pit opened. Your hunger had fallen into it, and the memories and pain rose out of it.

There was a time when this day had been wonderful. Life had been wonderful, you didn't need Valentine's Day, but you celebrated it with reverence and, sometimes, wild abandon.

You knew what love was, what it felt like to love a man and how it felt to lose him. You remembered what he'd said that last morning, how he'd kissed you; how the sun had lit his face as he smiled, promising he'd be back. You also remembered the police, how the sun seemed to dim as they told you the phrases out of courtesy. They were sorry for your loss. They will let you know of details as soon as the investigation on the accident comes to an end.

Since that time, Valentine's Day had passed unheralded, unheeded and uncelebrated. You knew you were a joke of the office - entering thirties soon and never been fucked, that's what they said. The borning woman who had no idea what fun was, wouldn't have known what to do with a man if by some miracle you did catch the attention of one. They were wrong, of course. Not that it was any of their business; it certainly didn't affect your ability to do your job.

If you chose to act and dress your age and spend your evenings quietly, rather than as mutton dressed as lamb in some gaudy nightclub, surely that was your right?

You sighed again, getting up from the table, taking your cereal bowl and dumping the gloop down the sink. A bleak day of petty jibes and pitying looks lay ahead. At least you knew what to expect this year.

Last year had been your first Valentine's Day with this particular company and, therefore, your first with this particular bunch of malicious people - your fellow employees. As front counter receptionist, you were the company's first "public face" and some of your co-workers had decided it didn't look good if that face wasn't surrounded by gifts from admirers on this day.

When the first bunch of anonymous flowers had arrived, you've been flustered, flattered and flabbergasted that anyone would send you flowers. You had hurriedly cleared a space on the counter for them, proudly displaying them, fussing with them to show them off at their best and make them visible from the greatest distance. You kept touching them, moving them slightly, reaffirming they were really there. Your heart sang; someone had noticed you. Maybe he was too shy to reveal himself; maybe he was married and couldn't: your mind was alive with questions, trying to solve the mystery of their origin. You were all in all happy.

Then a large box of chocolates arrived, closely followed by more flowers. By lunchtime, these had been joined by a little plush cherub, two red plush love hearts, a pair of earrings, three more bunches of flowers, four assorted boxes of chocolates and a large jar of candy hearts. They all carried the same anonymous message. And you knew then and there what is the catch behind this.

By the end of the day there were nine flower arrangements, ten boxes of chocolates, three cherubs, the two red love hearts, three teddy bears, two jars of candy, the earrings and a gift box containing four pairs of edible undies. Just before the close of business the final humiliation came - a fantastically wrapped see through box containing an inflatable male doll with vibrating tongue, a massive purple vibrating dildo and a copy of the Sex for The Beginners book.

You had to stay at your post until the last visitor or client left. But the rest of the staff was already heading out of the building. Some boggled at your desk, some snickered, a couple made loud crass comments and a very few had appeared horrified at the pile of stuff surrounding yourself. The building had almost emptied before that last visitor departed. You were sure that, too, was a set-up, particularly when you saw it was the client that had been visiting quite frequently lately.

Myungsoo ushered the man to the street and turned back to you as you gathered your coat and handbag, ready to escape.

"Gee, you're a popular girl. Who would have thought?" He reached your counter and began collecting up the flowers, grinning madly. "Let me help you with all that."

Before you could say a word, he bundled all the flowers, chocolates and assorted other items into your arms. You could barely see where you were going. Myungsoo put his arm around your back and shepherded you out the door, peeking at the vibrator in its transparent box. "There you go, sweetheart. Looks like you're definitely gonna get some action tonight." He turned smartly away, laughing as he rapidly put distance between the two of you.

You obviously had thrown the whole lot in the nearest dumpster and hurried to the relative sanctuary of your car before breaking down and sobbing, burying your head in your hands to hide from prying eyes of curious passer-bys.

Standing at your kitchen sink, you wondered what they'd pull this year. It couldn't be worse, could it? You sighed again and then abruptly shook your head, standing straighter. To hell with it - you were not going to let them get to you today.

It had already begun when you arrived. A bouquet of irises sat at the front of the counter. You were tempted to throw them straight in the garbage, but decided they were too pretty, too unusual. So they stayed. Curiosity got the better of you as you looked at the card, expecting it to say something sappy and insincere, as last year's cards had.

"You are worth far more than they will ever realise. Hear the flowers."

You pondered the card. Hear the flowers?

What on earth did that mean? You raised an eyebrow as you settled into your post: at least it seemed this year would be more intriguing than last. During quiet moments throughout the morning, you'd pick up the card, reread the cryptic message and study the beautiful bouquet, but its secret was never revealed.

No gifts arrived for you, no more flowers. You were relieved, but it only served to deepen the mystery of the flowers. As your lunch hour approached, other staff began filtering out of their offices to take a break. They all noticed the irises. Several of the women stopped and commented on their beauty. No one laughed.

As always, you left the building for lunch. You would usually grab a sandwich somewhere and do a bit of window shopping. Anything to get away for an hour - if you stayed in the office, someone always "needed" you for something.

When you returned, a neatly typed page was on your desk: "The meaning of flowers". One line was highlighted in blue: "Iris: Have Faith. Don't Give Up On Hope." A single purple violet was pinned to the page. You scanned the page to find "Violet (Purple): You occupy my thoughts". You put the page to one side, but still in view, unsure whether to laugh at it and throw it along with the flowers away before the punch line or wait it out. This was definitely a far more sophisticated assault than last year.

Throughout the afternoon a steady procession of couriers arrived, carrying flowers and gifts. You nervously watched each one approach your counter, only to breathe a sigh of relief as the teddy bears and hearts, the chocolates and flowers were all destined for other souls.

At 4:30PM a man approached your station: nothing unusual in that; everyone that came to see someone had to check in with you. What was unusual was that he actually saw you as a fellow human, not a robot programmed to take names and give directions. He smiled at you, a real smile that reached his eyes and warmed your heart. Something familiar in his eyes...

"Good afternoon. My name is Kim Doyoung. I have an appointment to speak to Choi Myungsoo. Would you mind letting him know I am here, please?"

Quickly, you dialled Myungsoo's extension, giving him the information. Myungsoo, as usual was brusque to the point of rude, telling you to "entertain the idiot 'till I'm ready for him - he's not supposed to be here for another 15 minutes".

You were tempted to tell the polite gentleman exactly what Myungsoo had said, but instead used your tact and diplomacy (that was why you were hired after all) to tell him that "Mr. Choi is a little delayed. He will be available in a few minutes."

With that being said, you offered him a seat.

Again he smiled. "Those are beautiful flowers," he said, nodding towards the iris bouquet. "A discerning choice for a lovely lady."

You lowered your eyes, feeling the heat rise in your face, knowing you were blushing.

His voice softened and became much quieter. "You don't remember me, do you?" Your eyes flew to his face, confused. Were you supposed to know this charming man?

"I had an appointment here at the same time, on this day last year. I was waiting outside for a taxi when you left. That was uncalled for, the whole situation that happened - mean and heartless and exactly what I would expect of Myungsoo and his friends. I deal with them only because I must. They offer a service unparalleled in this town."

He leaned across the counter, his voice so low only you could hear. "How they manage it, I cannot tell. They are pig swill and don't know a pearl when confronted with one." Doyoung paused, seeming to weigh up his next statement, then leaned closer to you. "Did you hear the flowers?"

Your eyes again flew to his face, your mouth falling open a little. "You sent them?"

"I did. And the violet. I had hoped to counter whatever crass display they had planned this year. Would you possibly consider spending the evening with me?" His face was eager, hopeful. "A nice dinner?"

You were stunned, flattered, amazed - but also wary. This was Myungsoo's client. He could easily have been put up to this. You studied his face closely, seeking any hint of a lurking cad. His face fell. "But, of course, you have other plans. I apologise for embarrassing you." He moved away and sat, abashed, on one of the hideous lounge chairs to await his appointment.

You studied this man. He didn't seem to fit the mould of Myungsoo's usual cohorts. For one thing he was unerringly polite. He was also good looking, very, very good looking, without being outstanding or flashy. He was also much closer to your age than Myungsoo's and had an air of quiet confidence, like he had nothing to prove to anyone and nothing to fear from them either. You looked at the flowers. Could Myungsoo have possibly thought of something this elegant? You didn't think so. You took a deep breath: to hell with it.

"Mr. Kim?" He looked up. "What time would you like to pick me up?"

In your bedroom, staring at the clothes hanging limply in your closet, the cool bravado that had claimed you as you agreed to the date vanished. In its place indecision, doubt and outright terror took hold. It seemed painfully obvious to you now, away from the office and that lovely man, that it was all another twisted joke, something for the office beautiful people to laugh at during tomorrow's coffee breaks. Why did you say yes? Your wardrobe was woefully inadequate. It was years since you'd been out with a man; you were bound to make a fool of yourself, even if it wasn't a set-up.

At that thought your heart jumped and lurched. The possibility that Mr. Kim - no, Doyoung; this was a date not a business appointment - was sincere in his wish to take you out only heightened your confusion and indecision.

Finally, in desperation and the realisation that if you didn't decide soon, you'd still be in your underwear when he arrived; you chose a chanel-knee length cremé skirt and baby pink cashmere sweater, topped off with knee length boots. The heels were quite high, but you remembered him being tall, so that wouldn't be an issue, as long as you didn't fall over in them.

You were saved from an overcritical examination in the mirror. You had just completed applying your makeup when Doyoung arrived. You grabbed your coat and quickly walked out the door, before you had time to rethink and back out.

"You look lovely," Doyoung said, smiling down at you. Feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks; you weren't used to receiving compliments, particularly from someone like him. You mumbled a shy thanks as he helped you put on your coat and led you to his car.

Sitting in the car as he drove, you were able to study the mysterious man that is Kim Doyoung. He was extremely handsome, not in the classical sense, but he certainly was far from a plain looking man - a man at peace with himself. He knew who he was and was content with that; he knew what he wanted and how to get it; and what was beyond his capabilities and lost no sleep over it. He obviously managed quite well; his car was expensive but not too flashy.

The restaurant he took you too was a quiet small place, away from the standard eat-and-entertain strip. It was intimate without claustrophobia; the decor was elegant without being overbearing; the lighting low but not dim; the service attentive without being intrusive. The food you could not describe - later, you barely remembered what you had eaten beyond it being "nice" - your attention was totally taken by Doyoung.

He was gallant and charming; helping you with your coat and holding your chair for you at the intimate table for two tucked away in a corner. Doyoung quietly suggested items on the menu he thought you might like. It was obvious he'd been here before, was a regular, but usually without company. His choice of wine was perfect to go with the excellent food as you enjoyed each other's company.

And you talked.

You learned a lot about him. Doyoung was 34, older than you had thought; he had been engaged, but his fiancé decided to break off the engagement for simply falling out of love. He had had a series of short term relationships that had petered out and, for the past several years, had lived a solitary life, rarely going out with women. He didn't work as such; his livelihood came from investments, which explained him being a client of the company you worked in. Myungsoo may be a jerk, but he was the one of the best investment brokers around.

He had been attracted to you the first time he met you, a year ago, but had been intimidated by the evidence of all your admirers. When he realised it was all a cruel joke played by his adviser and the other brokers, he was mortified. He had seriously considered changing brokers, going to another organisation but that would have meant he had no chance of meeting you again. So he stayed. He had been in your office on three occasions since then, and each time had seen your quiet, unflappable charm and how your talent and lovely nature were either ignored or taken for granted by those around you. He was determined to gain your attention, but without the office cricus freaks being able to use it against you, hence the mystery flower delivery this morning.

You found yourself opening up to Doyoung. He seemed sincerely interested in hearing what you had to say, hanging on your every word. It was a liberating and wonderfully powerful feeling. You weren't used to being the centre of anyone's attention. You told him of your pride at the independence since the loss of your lover, all those years ago. You were happy in your little home, content with your work, rarely coming to the attention of the office jokers.

It was over coffee that you admitted to Doyoung something you haven't admitted to yourself: your life was lonely and you missed the affection of another person. You missed the companionship of sharing your life with someone.

Immediately after the words had left your lips you regretted them. You have given away too much of yourself, been too forward. You lowered your eyes, not wanting to see the closed expression you knew would be on his face, so you didn't see the fleeting look of pain, quickly followed by understanding and hope.

However, you did feel his hand close over yours and squeeze lightly. You looked up into a face of gentle eyes and soft smile. "Would you like to take a walk with me," he said quietly. "I think it's time we leave - they want to close the restaurant anyway."

You looked around yourself noticing that you two were the only people other than staff left in the restaurant, and many of the lights were dimmed. You gasped in wonder - you had no idea you've been there so long. "Yes, a walk would be lovely."

Doyoung ushered you along the street and across a small, neat park to a promenade along the riverbank. It was enough lit to feel safe and you walked along arm in arm. You felt his arm snake around your waist hugging you closer to him, and you snuggled against him, your arm around his back. The moon was up, the stars were out and the night was peaceful and clear.

Your heart was singing and your eyes sparkled. You've been right to take this gamble. He was sincere, and it was wonderful. But the night was late, and it was rather cold.

You shivered. Doyoung felt it immediately and turned off the promenade proposing to head back toward the street where he had left the car. "I'd better take you home. It wouldn't be much of a date if you ended up ill."

At your door, Doyoung formally thanked you for a lovely evening and asked if he could see you again. You smiled and surprised yourself only a little by reaching up and kissing him lightly on the lips before saying: "Would you like to come in for a nightcap?"

Doyoung blinked, looking mildly bemused for a moment before studying your face. "Are you sure?"

Oh, most definitely, you were sure. You have thought of nothing else since you two have left the river. He looked right, he felt right, and he smelt right. You wanted him but was sure he'd never make a move. He was too much of a gentleman to ever force the issue.

You took his hand and led him into your home, kicking the door closed with your foot, shutting out the rest of the world with its mean people and ugly attitudes. You reached up to kiss him again. This time he lowered his head to yours, cradling your face in his hands as he returned the kiss. The lips met and parted, allowing the tongues to join and caress each other. His hands moved down from your face to caress your body, yours moving up from his hips. Both of you parted, searching each other's faces for confirmation of your desires.

"I think we're on the same page," you said. "Why don't you leave your coat on the couch? Do you want the nightcap now, or after the tour?"

"I'll put a hold on the nightcap," Doyoung answered, reading the desire in your eyes and knowing it was mirrored in his while stripping off the coat.

"Right."

You took his hand again. "This is the lounge. There," you pointed to the right, "is the kitchen and dining room. This way," pulling him down the hall, "is the second bedroom, the bathroom and," dragging him through a doorway, "here is the main bedroom."

"Very nice," he said, looking around, trying not to focus on the bed.

Suddenly shy, you both looked at anything but each other, awkward in a lack of intimate knowledge of each other. Doyoung tentatively reached out a hand to you, aiming to caress your breast, veering off at the last moment to your shoulder, but still lightly brushing your breast with his fingertips. Your gasped breath emboldened him and he reached his other hand, caressing your other breast lightly as you shivered under his touch and sighed.

Your own hands went to his chest, running down the front of his shirt and back up, then beginning to undo the buttons, pulling the shirt from his trousers and teasing his bare skin with your fingers.

Doyoung pulled his shirt off and then raised the sweater over your head and off the arms, moving in to kiss you as his hands went around your back to undo the clasps of a bra and returned to cup your breasts. The sensation on your breasts as he caressed and pinched the nipples sent a sharp message straight between your legs. You could feel yourself becoming moist and shuddered under his touch; breath becoming uneven.

Pushing him away you removed the skirt, letting it pool at your feet while looking into his eyes. Doyoung took the hint and began unbuckling his belt, then grinned foolishly and sat beside you to take off his socks, sneaking kisses of your neck and shoulders as he did so. You both stood again, slightly apart. He dropped his trousers and you could see his briefs pushed out of shape by his erection, the fabric straining.

Doyoung stepped up, taking you in his arms, kissing down your neck and across the collarbone, his hands lowering to your hips, sliding under the elastic and beginning to tug your panties down. Your own hands flew to the top of his briefs. Together, you pulled down the underwear, stepping out of them and standing naked before each other. Again Doyoung moved first, holding you and gently pushing backwards onto the bed, following after you onto it.

He ran one hand down the body of yours, teasing and tickling the beginning of your womanhood and beyond, teasing you with his fingers, tickling across your mound and easing around your damp centre. You moaned as he explored, your hips twisting and twitching. It had been so long since another man had touched you there. It felt amazing, wonderful, but achingly short of what you needed. You could feel his hardness against your thigh. Reaching down, you took his cock into your hand. It was hot, hard and pulsed under your touch. Doyoung groaned and his hips jerked convulsively. You kissed him hard and whispered fiercely, "Please, it's been too long. I need you, now."

"For me too, far too long," Doyoung gasped back, rolling you onto your back and positioning himself before gently splitting your lips and sliding steadily but firmly into you. Your moans were prominent in the air as he stretched and filled you right, not stopping his steady thrust until he was wholly inside you, your warm walls gripping him tightly. Your eyes met and locked as you lay still, immersed in the feeling of each other's body.

Being warm, wet and a safe haven, you were engulfing his cock. Doyoung was filling you with his hard heat, owning your body completely. You fit each other perfectly; you could see it in each other's eyes. You belonged together.

As great as this feeling was, you needed more. Doyoung slowly withdrew, till only the very tip split you. Both groaning as he pushed back in, again slowly feeling each other with delectable inch. Slowly in and out, in and out, revelling in the feeling of each other's bodies, gradually building up speed as your need increased.

You could feel the fire building, the tension increasing as sensation on sensation smashed into you with each thrust, your body twitching, your hips writhing. Still it built; higher, tighter, fiercer. Your entire being was wrapped around Doyoung's cock as it pumped in and out of you. You could hear him grunting with each thrust, feel his body trembling as he got closer to his climax. His speed increased and you breath got caught in your throat, your back arched, legs went stiff as you began to twitch when the white light exploded through you, spreading warmth and scattering your senses.

You felt, from far away but deep within you, Doyoung losing his rhythm before coming, pumping wildly into you, grunting and thrusting hard one last time as he shot deep inside you feeling spent but overly fulfilled.

Your hand was making lazy circles on Doyoung's chest as you lay, curled against his side with a head on his shoulder. You weren't sure how you've come to be in this position, but it felt so right and he smelled so good.

You were at peace while drifting off to sleep.

Waking up without feeling body by your side, you immediately felt the loss. Doyoung wasn't there. Your heart dropped, the pit near your stomach threatened to open and engulf it. Sensing the tears coming up, you accidentally feel something on your side with a hand.

He wasn't there. But there was a note.

"I am so sorry. I hate to leave you, knowing you will wake alone. There is something I must do."

You had just finished reading when the phone rang, disturbing your thoughts. Grudgingly, you moved to answer it. "Hello."

"Wish I was still beside you."

Your heart flipped again. The pit dissolved so you could breathe again before whispering, "Doyoung."

"Y/N. Tell me, what are you planning for breakfast?"

"Uhm. Coffee? Maybe some toast. Why?"

"Don't move. I'm on my way. With breakfast. And it's better than toast."

You lay back in bed, listening to the dial tone after he hung up. Surprised, you smile softly. You must remember to thank Myungsoo for introducing them.

If this is how you will feel loved and feel free to love again, you have no complaints.

Your new chapter is about to begin and hopefully, it will last for a very long time with a man named Kim Doyoung.

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: one allusion to sex

A/N: me and @samuel-de-champagne-problems are doing a 500 follower co-celebration that you can find here! we would love to hear from you <3

Masterlist

Chapter 34

You came down the stairs in the morning to see Spencer staring out the window of the sun room.

He occasionally sketched something in his journal, poking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, before glancing up again.

“What’s up, love?” you asked him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind so you could peek into his journal full of sketches.

“I want to build a treehouse for Jo to use and the twins eventually. Maybe even grandkids,” Spencer smiled softly.

“I like that idea but please tell me you are having someone help you. I don’t want you up on a ladder by yourself,” you warned him.

“Derek was more than happy to help,” he kissed the top of your head.

“I’ve got to go to Lowe’s to get the wood planks. Do you want to come too or I can bring all the kids with me?”

“I am not going to miss alpha-male Spence,” you bit your lip, “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

“I’ll get the kids up if you make coffee,” he bargained.

“Deal,” you gave him a quick peck before sending him up the stairs.

Spencer came back downstairs with the two twins in the double carrier and Jo holding his hand. He was dressed in jeans with a measuring tape hooked to his belt and the leather brown doc martens you bought him on his feet.

“I was not expecting to be this turned on at 8 in the morning,” you whispered to him with a giggle which caused him to blush.

“Can we get donuts on the way, Mommy?” Jo asked.

“Of course, Baby J. Let’s go.”

-

You had Ollie and Ophelia in their portable car seats in the shopping cart while you and Jo were eating your donut munchkins and watching amusedly as Spencer pretended to know what he was doing.

“It’s okay to ask for help, love,” you reminded him.

“Fine,” he huffed, “Let me go get an employee. I have all the practical knowledge of how this should work but believe it or not, I was never a big handyman. I would just call my landlord when something broke.”

After getting the wood situation settled, Spencer brought Jo to the paint swatch section.

“Princess, you can pick any color you want for me and Uncle Derek to paint the tree house,” Spencer told her.

Jo took her time, carefully examining each swatch and considering her options before deciding on a pale lavender.

“Excellent choice,” Spencer smiled, kissing her cheek, “You got your love of purple from me.”

-

“I’ve got it!” Jo announced at the knock at the door.

“Jo!” Derek smiled as she opened the door.

“Uncle Derek!” she jumped into his arms.

“Long time, no see, kiddo. You’re growing so fast.”

You walked into the entry way with Ollie and Ophelia in your arms.

“Spence is already out back. Please be careful, you two. I don’t want to drive to the hospital today,” you cautioned.

“I’ll be out in just a second. I need to see my two godbabies first,” Derek extended his arms, taking Ollie from you and giving him little kisses on the cheek before doing the same to Ophelia.

“They still keeping you up at night?” Derek asked.

“Not as much nowadays, it’s a little harder with twins because as soon as one cries, the other follows. But Spencer always insists on getting up so I really can’t complain,” you smiled.

“Alright, I’ll head out there and get to work so Jo can have her new treehouse as soon as possible,” Derek waved.

“Hey, man,” Derek greeted Spencer as he walked outside.

Spencer looked up from his journal, “Oh, hey! I have got some preliminary blueprints sketched out that you can take a look at. Thank you so much for your help today. I really appreciate it and the kids will too.”

“Of course. You know things between me and Savannah are getting pretty serious so maybe my kid will be playing up there one day too,” Derek smiled.

“That’s so great to hear, Morgan.”

“I have you to thank for that. Seeing this life that you created outside the BAU inspired me. It made me realize I want more than to be a travelling single man my whole life,” Derek stated.

“I’m happy you’ve found someone you can see yourself settling down with,” Spencer smiled, “You and Savannah are welcome over any time for dinner.”

“When did you know Y/N was the one?” Derek asked.

Spencer couldn’t believe the Derek Morgan was asking him for girl advice. But then, he remembered he had everything. He had managed to win over his dream girl. His soulmate. His everything.

“The first time she laughed at an awful joke I made. I just knew from that moment on, I wanted to hear it over and over again and I would do everything in my power to keep that smile on her beautiful face,” Spencer admitted.

The sliding glass door of the sun room opened.

“Sorry to interrupt but Jo and I just made some fresh lemonade and I don’t want you guys to get dehydrated out here,” you said as you placed the pitcher and cups down on the table, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Spencer’s lovesick gaze was laser-focused on you.

“I asked him when he knew you were the one,” Derek informed you.

“Oh,” you smiled softly, reminiscing, “For me, it was on our first date when he held every single door for me and would even run ahead to make sure it was open. I knew I had found myself the perfect gentleman.”

You gave him a quick peck before heading back inside.

-

You woke up already crying. You cuddled further into Spencer’s chest as you teared up.

“I don’t want to go. Please, Spence, I want to stay home with you and the kids,” you sobbed.

“Love, remember, I asked you last week if you wanted to go back or if you wanted me to find a job instead and do you remember what you said?” Spencer cupped your chin and gently forced you to look up at him.

“I love teaching,” you sniffled.

“I completely understand if you change your mind but I think you should give it at least a day.”

“No, you’re right,” you kissed him before getting up and heading to the bathroom to get ready, “Besides, it’s spring so before you know it, the semester will be over and I’ll have all summer with you and the kids.”

“That’s my girl,” Spencer smiled.

-

“Okay bye, my beautiful babies,” you kissed Ophelia and Ollie’s heads, “Be good for Daddy while Jo and I are gone.”

“I will text you pictures of them every hour on the hour and you can facetime us at lunch if you want,” Spencer assured you, giving you a goodbye kiss.

“Ready, Jo?” you asked, extending your hand for her to grasp on to.

“Yes, Mommy,” she grabbed your hand.

“Have fun at school and work!” Spencer called out, crouching down and moving Ophelia and Ollie’s little arms as if they were waving goodbye.

-

Your day had gone as well as could be expected. You felt like eventually you would be able to adjust back to your regular work schedule. Spencer’s constant texts throughout the day and the multiple framed family photos that he got you for your office desk definitely helped.

You got home, setting your keys and bag down on the counter next to a takeout bag. Of course, Spencer got you takeout from your favorite restaurant on your first day back because he’s just that sweet.

You hadn’t heard any noise from within the house since you got home so you headed out to the back porch.

You saw Spencer in a hammock tied between two trees in the yard, soaking up the sun. Ollie and Ophelia were sprawled across his chest with a protective arm draped over them and Jo was curled up into his side with his other arm wrapped around her.

You quietly walked over and snapped a picture that definitely would be added to your office desk’s collection before laying down on Spencer’s other side.

He awoke from the rustling you made trying to get yourself settled.

“Why are you crying, love? During our last check-in, you seemed fine,” he whispered concernedly.

“Nothing is wrong, my family is just too cute and my husband is too sweet,” you smiled softly, “Now pass me a baby. You can’t hog them all to yourself.”

in case you missed it, i posted a stand-alone smut one-shot of RF titled ‘All Clear’ but it is not necessary to read to continue the plot of the story and it is strictly 18+

taglist (just ask to be added or removed): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly @doctorreiding @reidsfish

[violettelueur]

— GOJO SATORU || HAPPY NEW YEAR

↳ featuring : gojo satoru from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : grammar issues

↳ form : imagine

↳ published : 21 january

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 1.4k

↳ request : can i req gojo with a wife who likes to drink the finest wine on new year's eve and makes all sorts of sweet and delicious food, (she's basically the star of the party since she creates a nice atmosphere that everyone loves to be around) but she's sorta sensitive to loud noises so whenever its time for the fireworks, she just stays indoors and gojo is there by her side and she asks him that it was alright for him to leave her there and go outside but he says that as long as where she's most comfy at, that's where he will find himself in comfort aswell

↳ barista’s notes : i know this is a bit late to post BUT it is still january so it counts Σʕﾟᴥﾟﾉʔﾉ but right now, i have completed the request that are on my ‘orders in progress’ page (wip) but that’s not all the orders in my inbox, so i will update it later on today, so you all can see what to anticipate for ʕ￫ᴥ￩　ʔ but moving on from that, i hope you enjoy you cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and please come again soon ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

New years eve. One of the only days where you and Gojo were able to be together without anyone interrupting you both in any way since this was the rare time when most jujutsu sorcerers were given the day off.

Every year, all the jujutsu sorcerer within both Tokyo and Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College was excited for this specific day since this was the only time where you were going to get the chance to make your homemade sweets that they got to delightful enjoy as well as the dishes you made in advance for them to fulfil themselves with the flavours of homemade food made with a hint of motherly love.

To be honest, they always questioned the reason why you willingly wedded the Six Eyes sorcerer and allowed your last name to be replaced with ‘Gojo’ since you were known to be the complete opposite to the man himself. You were on the calm and mature side like your favourite glass of red wine - which was also Gojo’s favourite time to kiss you since the taste of sweet wine with a slight hint of bitterness from your lips was too irresistible for him to keep away - but always knew when you could have a laugh here and there. You were sweet towards the students while Gojo was just plainly annoying and arrogant from time to time, but that was the balance of your marriage. 

However, how could you not marry him? You just had fallen too deep in love with the man and now there was no way you could get back up after and to be honest, the same could be said by the strongest himself.

During the New Year’s Eve, you would always invite the others over to celebrate together since you never knew when it was the last time you all could get together like this - after all, this is a life of a jujutsu sorcerer, you never knew what to expect. 

“Sensei, thank you so much for the food!” Itadori cheered as he continued to munch on the cake that you had made earlier today leading to Kugisaki to yell at him for eating with his mouth full while informing him that it was rude which caused Fushiguro to look at his friends with such annoyance as he silently much on the sweet dessert that he really loved since he was a kid - he just never told you when you had taken care of him the day Gojo took him in.

Smiling gently over the scene, you slyly looked over to see your husband playful teasing Nanami who was casually eating the bowl of Ozoni that you had served him earlier leading you to giggle at the scene since you know the grade one sorcerer was getting annoyed but never express it visibly making you want to have his patience - since sometimes Gojo could become a little more irritating than usual, especially when he was sick.

“Sensei, the fireworks are about to start!” Maki announced to you, causing you to look out of your window for a second to be greeted with the dark midnight sky surrounding the world before you quickly turned back to glance at her while grazing a motherly smile. “Then we should go outside to see them, should we?” you gently asked, causing the students around you to excitedly nod in agreement before quickly making their way outside to have a proper view of the colourful display that was going to happen at any minute.

However, there was always a disadvantage for you during the new years. You couldn’t really handle loud sounds, in fact, you were quite sensitive to any loud. You weren’t sure when it started to be honest. Was it due to your fear of lightening when you were younger? Or was it because your eyes were just sensitive? But this wasn’t a problem for you during work since you were another rare jujutsu sorcerer that could use reverse curse energy that Jujutsu Tech had like your co-worker and friend Ieiri. However, as much as you wished you could celebrate the fireworks with everyone, your ears just weren’t having it at all.

As everyone was making their way out the door and into the outside world under the starlit sky, you leisurely leaned against the side of your front door and looked on ahead at everyone who was anticipated for the sky to light up with its festive colours. To see the excitement on their faces was enough for you to be excited for the New Years and what was ahead for you as well as everyone, even with the hint of panic and nervousness that came along with it.

Suddenly, your ears instantly caught the sound of something being shot up into the sky before a blaring boom came into earshot leading to a beautiful ruby red firework to decorate the sky with its sparkles. However, your body couldn’t help but slightly flinch at the loud sound only for it to suddenly flinch again once another firework decided to appear in the sky, replacing the red one that had disappeared a few second earlier.

Unexpectedly, you felt someone’s arms making their way around your waist before pulling you close to their board chest bringing you a comforting warmth, replacing the icy winds that surrounded you earlier. “You okay honey~?” a playful voice asked, causing you to slightly turn your head to your right side only to instantly feel a slight tickle due to his soft white hair brushing against your cheek since your husband was resting his chin on your shoulder.

“You know you can go outside and see the fireworks, I’ll be okay here,” you mentioned before pressing a light kiss on his temple leading to a small smile to be painted on his face at the small affection that you gave him as he then decided to do the same thing leading to your replicate the same smile that Gojo adored so dearly.

“Nah~ if you’re comfortable here, then I’m comfy here as well,” Gojo stated before he continued with, “it seems like you stop flinching as well, so we can both enjoy the fireworks by our front door ha?”.

Widening your eyes, you suddenly realise that Gojo was right on what he had just mentioned, you had stopped flinching the second he had brought you into his arms causing him to confidently and playfully smile at you, letting you have a clear view of his handsome face that was vaguely being lit up by the different bright colours of the fireworks. On the other hand, the only thing that stayed in colour were his beautiful bright cerulean eyes - that were sneakily behind his classic black circled sunglasses - you treasured so fondly ever since the day you met him.

“Yeah, I’m surprised I hadn’t noticed,” you whispered to him before staring back up at the sky to admire the gorgeous light show that was provided not just for you but all of Japan right now.

“Pretty ha~” Gojo commented as he looked up to also view the show before quickly but slyly going back to admiring his wife. Gojo couldn’t help but appreciate the glow the fireworks were giving you as your skin began to shine a tiny bit more brightly than it had ever today. Of course, you always had a light glow to your complexion every time you woke up till the end of the day but something was different with the multitude of colours that the light show was giving you for him to admire. From your face glistening in sweat from a night of passion to your face being covered in flour due to him being immature and throwing some at you while you were baking, this was the brightest he had ever seen you - not his favourite though.

“But not as pretty as you though, aye,” Gojo teased, causing a bright red hue to paint both your cheeks to express your embarrassment before you quickly looked away from him- too bright that no fireworks could even cover the shade of rose you were showcasing right now.

“Happy new year Y/N,” he then stated, as he gently grabbed the bottom on your chin before turning your head to completely face him leading him to have a perfect view of your glossy lips that were invisibly coated with the red wine that you were drinking before you had placed your glass on the kitchen counter.

“Happy new year Satoru,” you then replied to your husband, only for you to be quickly shut up by his lips being placed on top of yours leading for you both to faint taste of the sweetness that had stained your lips from the classic red wine that Gojo gifted you for the New Years.

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[justkending]

Moral of the Story. Chapter Four.

Summary: Marrying too young out of highschool leads to a naive and failed marriage. Now 10 years later, word comes that the divorce was never actually completed. Bucky and Y/N have to come back together after all this time to settle what wasn’t all those years back. Passive attitudes, miscommunicated endings, and reminiscing of old loves and lives all comes back for the two.

Pairing: Bucky x Y/N

Word Count:

A/N: 

Chapter Four:

Bucky groaned as the alarm blared throughout the room. Rolling over to his side, he threw his head into the pillow. That didn’t stop the beeping like he had hoped, so with a groan he pushed up, smacking the red numbers that screamed at him. He rolled back onto his back and blinked up at the bare ceiling.

Today was the day…

_________________

Y/N couldn’t seem to sleep at all, so she woke up early at 6:30 jumping into the shower. Having the extra time, she took it to have a nice long soak in the hot water. The schedule of the day running through her mind.

The chance of them running into each other was practically at 100%. They had a time frame of 9-10 to get in and sign what they needed. Mr. Murdock said something along the lines that it would take about 30-45 minutes to get everything finalized and copied. 

So yeah… Within an hour frame of needed 30-45 minutes of signing shit and getting multiple copies made, meant Bucky and her would most likely be sitting next to the other as it was done. 

She let out a tired and irritated moan as she finally decided to turn off the water. She had it running for so long, her hands were prunes and the water was becoming lukewarm. The world was telling her to suck it up and move on with the day. 

____________

The car ride there was dreadful. Every stop light just elongated the inevitable meeting. Every turn brought him closer to the terrifying reunion. 

He was running early to begin with, but after hitting traffic from a wreck, he was now running just a few minutes behind. So weaving through the people who didn’t understand New York traffic was his specialty in showing up in time. 

____________

She stopped at the coffee shop by her house before really heading to the attorneys office. The car ride to the place was easy and smooth on her end. From coming from the outskirts of Brooklyn, the inner city traffic was avoided for the most part. So she was there early. She even had a second to sit in her car and drink the latte she had bought. Something about Brooklyn latte’s was 10x better than anything California had.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact they actually had cold weather to pair the hot drink with, whereas where she now lived, the lowest low in temperatures was 70 degrees. 

________________

Getting there with just 3 minutes to spare, Bucky rushed out of the car and walked with a hint of speed to the door that read Nelson and Murdock Law Firm. 

No sign of Y/N yet, but as he walked in, he heard a shout from the street that caused him to turn as soon as he walked in. He didn’t have a second to register what the shout was about as he took two steps in and ran straight into someone’s back. 

“Whoa!” he said, using his hands to brace himself on the mystery person's shoulders, and the other person making the same exclamation. “Oh God, I’m so sor-”

Before he could finish the apology, the women turned showing the face of his matured high-school-sweetheart. 

“Oh,” he let out in a breathy turn. He could tell just from past experience with her, she had a snarky comment on her tongue at the run in, but upon seeing him, the words died on her lips. “Hey.”

She looked great. Like, really great after all these years. Not that she wasn’t a beautiful gal to begin with, but you never know how someone’s going to age. However, she looked almost the same. 

Sure, she had aged some, but just like a nice bottle of the finest wine in all the vineyards of California. Maybe that was her secret given her new home. 

Her Y/H/C hair was styled in loose curls. It was voluminous with a healthy shine to it. She had on an off white, canvas dress that cinched at the waist with buttons going down it. And she had a layered gold necklace going down her chest where the buttons were undone. She looked both professional yet casual at the same time. 

Bucky realized he had been staring when she awkwardly looked around her trying to not pay attention to his analyzing eyes. 

“Hey,” she said, letting out a deep breath. 

She didn’t miss how good he looked either. Even in those facebook pictures that she had found the night before, the ones she found him just as attractive, they didn’t do the real man justice. His hair was just as long as the most recent picture his mother had posted, and he looked more muscular than she ever remembered. The scrubs didn't do his build justice. 

He was wearing a navy blue v-neck tight fitting t-shirt. A brown leather jacket that looked as though it was tailored specifically for him and him alone. And lastly, he had on a pair of jeans that of course, fit in him all the right places. 

There was a very awkward silence as they stood there not knowing what else to say. Neither now looking at the other, but instead looking at every little inanimate object item in the office. 

After what felt like eons of the most tense silence to exist, Bucky was about to speak up again, but was cut off from another person running in late.

“Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry guys,” the voice sighed, out of breath from what they presumed was running to get there on time. “Foggy was supposed to pick me up and we were going to ride together, but he got food poisoning last night, so I had to take the train last minute.”

The man had dark brown hair, a nice suit, and a pair of sunglasses on even though it was overcast today and the sun was barely peeking through the heavy clouds. 

“Foggy?” Y/N asked with a tilt of her head. 

Bucky turned back looking at her with the same question on his mind, but watching the small action of confusion brought him back 10 years. God, it had been so long he had almost forgotten the little mannerisms she had that he found adorable. And damn her for still having that adorable action. 

“Oh, right. Franklin Nelson. My co-attorney,” he nodded. “We’ve been friends since we were in college. Friends call him Foggy.”

“Oh, I see,” Y/N nodded with a kind smile. 

“Anyway, I won’t bore you with my morning chaos. I’m sure you two are ready to get this over with and go on about your day,” he smiled, and pulled a walking stick out from around him as he closed the door. One that neither had realized he had been holding until now. “You two much be James and Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Matthew Murdock.

“It’s nice to meet you Matthew,” Y/N replied sweetly.

“Yes, thank you for helping us out,” Bucky nodded, placing his hands nervously in his pockets. 

“It’s my pleasure. I’m so sorry about everything that you guys are having to fix,” he said apologetically. But I’m sure you guys want to go about your day, so please, right this way,” he motioned to the door that was across from them. 

Bucky and Y/N both shared an impressed look on their faces as they watched him maneuver through the office gracefully. 

They followed close behind him and once they were seated in the chairs in front of the desk, Bucky began to fidget in his spot. Sure the office had been redone and really didn’t look much like it had all those years ago, but the layout was the same. And all it was doing to him was bringing back memories he hated trudging back to the surface. 

He subtly looked over at Y/N and saw her sitting in perfect posture watching Matthew as if if she were to look at him and only him, then she wouldn’t have to face Bucky. 

Why did he expect anything less? Of course she hated him just as much as she had all those years. She was probably dreading this meeting just as much as him. That small speck of hope that maybe they could be somewhat normal and civil upon meeting again after all this time, completely faded at that point. 

“Ok, this really shouldn’t take all that much time since Foggy and I went ahead and wrote up all the things that needed signed and double checked. So we should be able to breeze through all this,” Matthew nodded, bringing up a thick file that looked as though it had tabs on the side organizing them. 

Y/N looked over wondering just how he knew the difference between documents and noticed on each tab, there were bariel markings along them. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, out of all places to live, why New York? It’s got to be hard getting around such a crazy busy city given.. ” Bucky asked, but didn’t finish not sure how to word it. Y/N snapped her head in his direction and smacked his arm. “Ow!” Bucky jumped, sending her raised eyebrows. “What the hell?”

“I’m assuming you’re asking because of this,” Matthew laughed casually as he pointed to his glasses. “Don’t worry. You would be surprised just how often I get asked that.”

“Yeah, it was just a question,” Bucky pouted toward Y/N while rubbing his assaulted arm. The two falling back into their old behaviors rather fast. 

“I wasn’t always blind. I mean I have been for a good chunk of my life, but I’ve lived in New York my whole life as well,” Matthew went on to explain as he moved papers around. “If anything it would be harder for me to get around if I moved any place else. I know this place like the back of my hand.”

“That’s impressive,” Bucky nodded, getting comfortable in his seat. 

“Eh, it’s either learn or get bumped around the sidewalk of a place full of people who don’t give a second glance to anyone who’s in their way,” Matthew shrugged. “Oh, I need to go grab something before we start.”

He maneuvered through the room leaving the door open as he went across the office. Tension filled the air as they were left alone for a second time in the past 5 minutes. 

Y/N was sitting straight forward, her eyes wandering here and there around the meeting room, but careful not to go over to Bucky’s side of the room. He looked down seeing her hands were fiddling in her lap. She was tapping her thumbs together while his leg bounced up and down.

Bucky had opened his mouth to start to say something, but even he wasn’t sure what was about to come out. Lucky for him, Matthew came back in and went back to his seat. 

“Sorry about that. I thought I had it all, but needed to get some pens and one last paper I left on the printer last night.”

“You’re fine,” Y/N said professionally, but kindly. “I have one quick question, if you don’t mind.” Matthew nodded her on with a soft smile. “What exactly happened to Hammer after all this chaos was discovered?”

“Oh, yes. He, uh, he will not be an issue to anyone else to put it lightly. His license was revoked and terminated and he is currently on trial for money laundering and malpractice,” he answered. 

“Serves him right,” Bucky mumbled, and instead of getting a smack to the arm, Y/N nodded in agreement. 

“Ok, if you two are ready, let’s begin,” Matthew smiled before grabbing the first set of papers. 

The two straightened in their seats and the process began.

After a few minutes of just signing, Matthew started to make notes of updated information for the two. 

“Ok, Mrs. Barnes, sorry, Y/N,” he corrected quickly. “What is your line of profession at the moment?”

“I work at Horizon Labs in L.A. It’s a company a friend and I from college started up. I’m a Sustainable-Conscious Financial Advisor for a lot of smaller businesses as well as some bigger ones we recently just became partners with,” she answered. 

“Horizon Labs, huh?” Matthew said with an impressed look. Bucky turned to look at her as she lightly blushed. “I think I listened to a podcast about them. You guys help companies use recycled goods and find energy efficient technology, right?”

“We just redirect them to people who can help them get those resources. It’s practically just connecting the companies that would work great together in helping the environment,” she nodded humbly. 

“That’s amazing,” Matthew smiled. “We need more people and companies like that.”

“Thank you.”

He made note of that on a computer. “I’m assuming with all that, you have to be a little too busy for a second job, right? I don’t need to make note of another?”

“Uh, actually,” she added, Bucky’s already focused eyes on her quirked at her response. “I just invested in a Woman’s shelter with another friend of mine. I haven’t really got to do much with it, but it is a second job as of lately.”

“Wait? Nat?” Bucky caught on.

“Uh, yeah,” she nodded almost shyly. Probably the second time out of this whole meeting that she actually made eye contact with him. “My company works with them in getting some of the resources and items they need for the shelter. I talked with Nat and I invested into it some to help with some with their financial advisements.” 

“Wow, th-that’s,” Bucky faltered. “That sounds like you,” he said with a breathy laugh thinking about how maybe she really hadn’t changed all these years. That being one of the ‘reasons’ they had broken it off, how people change and all. But that’s a story for another time.

Y/N didn’t show a response to his words, but she did take them in. 

“So you run a woman’s home and you run a well-off business that promotes eco-friendly resources for the environment?”

“Well, I don’t run the woman’s home. That’s all my friends doing. I just help where help is asked if I can,” she answered once again humbly. No sense of egotistical pride hinted in her explanations or answers. 

“That’s extremely impressive Y/N,” Matthew gushed some, and Bucky noticed the smallest form of attraction come off the lawyer. He straightened at that. “I’ll make a note of it. And you Mr. Barnes. What is your occupation?”

Bucky relaxed his shoulders and focused back at the issue at hand. Trying to not get jealous of something that wasn’t even his to be jealous of. 

“I’m one of the head occupational therapist at Stark Theracorp,” he answered. Now it was Y/N’s turn to look at him intrigued. “I run the geriatric occupational therapy floor and manage our equipment and employees. ”

“Two very impressive people in the work field from what I’m getting,” Matthew chuckled some as he made the notes. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to ask about income from the both of you for the record. If you want to write it on a paper and hand it to me you can or if you are comfortable saying it outloud that works too. Either way, I’ll have Foggy add it in later to the finalized papers.”

“Wait, so we aren’t finalizing it today?” Y/N asked, somewhat shocked. 

“Did Foggy not tell you?” Matthew asked. “I thought he reached out to you before this meeting.”

“I don’t believe so,” Y/N shook her head. 

“Well, the reason this one is so quick is because I just need a few signatures and updated notes on you two. After that, I’ll make the altercations for the official papers and I’ll send those to you both on their own to get the final signature. You can either bring them to me here, fax them, or have them sent via mail after you signed off on them.”

“Oh, I see,” Y/N nodded. The look of defeat in her posture and facial expressions.

It hurt Bucky a little seeing her reaction to it. Did she really want to get away from him that bad? Was he that much of a nuisance in her life? I mean, yeah, they were supposed to be divorced 9 years ago, but he didn’t want it then and it still hurt seeing just how much she wanted it now. 

“That’s not an issue is it? I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” Matthew apologized. 

“No, no. It’s ok,” she said in reassurance to him. But she let out an almost bitter laugh before she spoke again. “We’ve been married for the past 9 years apparently. What’s a few more days?”

“I guess that’s true,” Matthew laughed with her. 

Bucky rolled his eyes discreetly. He really hated how she was reacting with all this. It wasn’t surprising, but doesn’t mean it hurts any less seeing how badly she wanted out of the situation.  

“Mr. Barnes, are you ok with that?” 

“I’ll survive a few more days, I guess,” he returned just as bitterly as Y/N. The two looked at each other one more time, but this time, anger and annoyance was clear on both of their faces.

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@taylormobley @ximaginx @vicmc624 @leyannrae @lonerlovescompany @jessyballet @angstysebfan @tita127 @semistablecentenarian @im-a-light-child @alyssahowden @studiesinspanish @natyvwe @rebekahdawkins@fanfictionjunkie1112 @millennial-teenybopper @scotlandasshole @aquariusbarnes @shinykoalacat​

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@thejourneyneverendsx​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @heyiamthatbitch​ @lizzymacy555​  @srrymydood​ @xa-dia​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @morganclaire4​ @connie326​ @captain-asguard​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ @teenagedreams-bucky​ @shower-me-with-roses​ @pham-tastical @livstilinski​

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